©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob Dole (left) and NICKY (right) “share” the electric blanket.
Bob is hanging in there. After four months of chemo, somehow he's still with us. Each day with him is a blessing, even if I only seem to interact with him when it's time for a snack or a pill. He sleeps a lot, so I try not to bother him too much. I know he's resting and comfortable. I check on him all the time. He still purrs and whines, depending on his mood and appetite.
I set up an electric blanket over an old chair, which became a big hit with the cats. I'm not sure if Nicky, our huge 24 lb cat, is willing to share or just puts up with Bob if he wants to warm himself on the blanket, too. Looking at this photo, you'd think Bob was very tiny. He's average size. Nicky, however, is enormous-freakishly so. More to snuggle with-that's for sure. In a way, it's like he's looking out for Bob and helping him feel better.
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. NICKY planning his next move.
I'll leave out the part of the story where I tell you that Nicky ran over my FACE this morning; his own brand of shocking wakeup call. I don't want to ruin your opinion of him as being a NICE cat, looking out for Bob, instead of being a pain in the rear end, thoughtlessly crushing Sam's man bits before he makes a beeline for my head.
It's okay. We can pretend Nicky's a good boy for awhile longer, but tonight I'm wearing a football helmet to bed and I heard a rumor that Sam's going to wear a cup.
I'm trying not to think about Bob...24 hours a day. I'm trying to remember to not loose my footing, to stay calm, to try to breathe. I don't want to make a rash decision, but I also don't feel like I have a lot of time to think. With the Holiday crush upon me and with Polly and her family and MacGruber about to arrive, I need to get things ready, but all I want to do is lie down next to Bob and just be with him.
I know I can't take enough photos of him. I can't pet him enough times. I can't listen to his crazy purr long enough. I got up at 5am, went downstairs and just sat with him and petted him. I can't take one second for granted. I can't assume he will be here tomorrow. Sure, that's true for all of us, but when you KNOW the sand in the hour glass is running low, is there any way to prepare?
I've made a few more decisions. I took Bob to get a blood test to check to see if his blood will coagulate properly. If it does, then he is a better candidate for surgery. If it does not, then we'll stop here and just let Bob live out whatever days he has left. If he's OK to go ahead, then I'll meet with the surgeon. She is VERY well respected-certainly one of the best. I'll only have a consult with her, that's it. If she says we can go ahead, then I have to make a very difficult decision. Dr. Larry told me that if we did open Bob up and they find that he has cancer, to wake him up out of sedation is unkind. It would be asking so much of Bob-to have him wake up, then face painful recovery, only to die a few weeks or months later in even more pain from the cancer spreading.
“You have to prepare yourself now for being able to make that choice for Bob, if it comes to that.”
There goes my heart, breaking into little pieces. I can't put Bob through Hell, but there IS a chance it is benign, operable, can be removed and he can live for a few more YEARS. How can I not take that chance? My head feels like it's going to explode.
I ordered a new cat tree a few weeks ago-before all this mess with Bob. I bought it on a lark, thinking it would give another one of my cats a place to go if she got stressed out. The box just arrived a few days ago when I was hormonal (why do cat trees show up when I have PMS? If you want a laugh, read THIS and THIS). Sam and I weren't on great terms (still). Somehow we still managed to put the thing together without killing each other.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen, the parts inspector arrives.
In a way, it was nice to do something that got my mind off things. The simplicity of tightening down a bolt helped me stop obsessing. Seeing the parts scattered across the floor, while my cats excitedly inspected every piece made me break with tradition, as of late, and actually smile.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob helps with the inspection, but as usual, Nicky fails by smelling Bob's tail, instead of the parts of the cat tree.
Blitzen was fascinated. He sniffed and climbed on everything. Bob and Nicky joined in, but were soon bored and went back to taking a nap. Blitzen, began to scratch on the sisal posts just seconds after they were in place. Lock down a sleeping platform and he was on it having a field day.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob!
Blitz was certainly test-driving the cat tree and it was a good thing he did-he's about the ONLY cat that will actually FIT onto or into most of the damn thing!
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bratty boy “helps.” (we're still building the cat tree at this point)
It's small. This is not a cat tree for full grown cats, save for the main platform that's big enough for any cat to lie on, but the rest of it is tiny. One piece was so small we didn't even bother to attach it. Honestly, this will be GREAT for my foster kittens, but my guys will not be able to enjoy this very much.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson
Of course, tell that to Blitzen. He loved it. There was only one problem.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen gives this cat tree a 1-Belly Up!
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bucket o' Blitz.
“Someone” is not big on sharing.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Spencer was investigating the top of the cat tree when Blitzen reminding him whose cat tree it was.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Not sure which end of Spencer you're seeing in this photo.
I admit that Blitzen is good for cheering me up when I'm feeling down, but it makes me feel guilty, too. Blitz is, in some ways, much like Bob. Blitz has a crazy purr and it's obvious he shares a resemblance with Bob, though Blitz is very light in coloring. Blitzen is all things joyous and fun-full of promise and magic. He has decades ahead of him, most likely. His story is just beginning.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. King of the Cat Tree (for now)
Bob was like Blitzen once-a long time ago. I never knew Bob in his youth, only as an adult. I bet he was a handful when he was a baby. I find myself wishing that I COULD have been his “mama,” from day one. I could have prevented him from getting FIV+, he'd still have all his teeth and most likely, he never would have gotten a mass on his liver in the first place...but I can't get a “do over” to put Bob back together again. I don't have the right tools and I'm pretty sure the instructions are written in Chinese.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, enjoying his heated cat bed.
I know this road. I've walked it more times than I care to recall. It's the moment at which I realize the time I have with one of my cats is coming to an end. The road is full of hopeful moments that will ultimately lead to despair and to the final choice we must make for our cat, one day.
I hate this road more than I can say. It eats at my heart and taxes my reserves. I try to prepare myself, but there is no preparing for death. It comes, as it does for all of us. We either accept it and find peace or fight and have the same end, no matter what.
On Saturday I got Bob's blood test results. His liver function, one test indicated by his ALT, was stratospherically high. A normal value would be 10-100. Bob was at 1240.
Other liver values were also very high, save for his Bilirubin, no it's not a sandwich, it's a blood test. That test result was normal. This is a good thing.
From Cat World, Australia, I found this description of Bilirubin:
Bilirubin: This is a major breakdown product of red blood cells. When red blood cells wear out they are trapped in the spleen and destroyed, releasing bilirubin into the blood. This type of bilirubin is called unconjugated. This bilirubin is transported in the blood to the liver, where it is taken up & conjugated (joined with glycuronic acid). This conjugated form may either be stored in the liver cells or excreted into the bile. Bilirubin levels are increased in cats with liver disease, gallbladder disease or have excessive destruction of red blood cells (known as hemolysis).
What do these numbers mean? See THIS web site for some helpful guidelines.
Then the kicker came today. Bob had an ultrasound done of his heart and abdomen. I thought I was going to be able to sit in during the ultrasound, but Dr. K said it would be quicker if he was on his own. Super Deb assured me she'd be with him and answer any questions. I kept thinking about this and that thing I wanted to make sure he knew, but in the end, nothing I was worried about mattered.
I took Super Deb's dog, Jayne for a walk, instead of twiddling my thumbs in the waiting room. It was freezing cold outside with a bitter wind. I tried to shake off the fear of what I would find out in a few more minutes. I tried to not cry thinking about it. I know as any good cat-parent knows-something is wrong, I just didn't know what it was. I didn't really WANT to know.
When I returned to Dr. Larry's office, grabbed a magazine about celebrities and their fabulous lives and pretended to look at it. I saw Super Deb. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. Then Dr. Larry arrived to start his day. He didn't even look towards the waiting room. Maybe it was not a big deal that he didn't look, but it seemed like no one wanted to even give me a hint as to what was going on.
Sam arrived with Petunia and Nora. He sat next to me, but we didn't speak. It's been a common thread here for a very long time. We only speak when necessary. Something is going on with Sam. I can guess, but he won't talk to me about it. Instead he hides in his office in the basement and plays his guitar. He mumbles this and that. He helps out around the house, in silence. Each day I grow a little more resentful, more angry. I am shut out and alone. I didn't do anything wrong. I can't wait forever for his life to be in a place where he feels like being a partner to me again. I'm still suffering from the car accident, in tremendous pain, but he does nothing. No comforting. No nothing. With all the stress I have about Bob, he only taps my shoulder or brushes my hand. When I need him most, he is the furthest away. I have to ask myself how many more years can this go on? What happened to having joy? Companionship? Even a dear friendship? For so long I have tried to encourage him to trust me, to talk to me, to give him guidance and support, but I am tired of trying.
So, Sam is there, but not there. I am there, but wishing I was somewhere else.
Petunia is getting a dental. One of her molars has a HOLE in it! Was THIS what was causing her to go on a pee-storm throughout the house? Fight with the other cats? Did she also have a urinary tract infection or impacted anal glads? While under anesthesia we'd be finding out. Maybe after all these years, I'd finally have a true end to the inappropriate urination going on in my home.
Nora was there to check her foot. We thought she had ringworm, but turns out she did not. She has some sort of fungal infection on one foot. It hasn't spread. We've treated it and it's getting better. But what about BOB??! Will someone please TELL ME what is GOING ON?
Dr. Larry took a deep breath. That was all he had to do. I knew it was bad news and he was preparing himself to speak.
Bob's heart is normal, which is very good, but...
Fun with ultrasound results.
As you can see, above, the many LONG words that I can't make heads or tails of spell out that Bob has a 5 cm mass present in the right lobe of his liver. It is not possible to tell if it's a cancer or if it's a benign tumor that could be treated or removed surgically.
With FIV+ and being a senior cat, Bob may not be a good candidate for surgery. He may have cancer and if they do the surgery they will open him up, then say they have to put him down. That it would not be fair to wake him up when he will only live a little while longer, anyway. It's a big crap shoot.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob ponders his future (on his new blanket from Jennifer)
Thanks to one of my readers who works with FIV+ and Feline Leukemia positive cats, she told me something shocking:
...for any kitty that has been tested since the beginning of this year with the new IDEXX 3-way test (FIV/FeLV/HW), you cannot trust ANY positive result on the FIV or FeLV component: incredibly high rate of false positives, confirmed by retests with the western blot for FIV or the IFA for FeLV. the true positive rate on retest is the normal, VERY LOW, percentage. (and, of course, the FeLV component only tests for EXPOSURE, and most cats are able to process the virus out of their systems, which is why retesting is imperative. usually, the retest should be done 90-120 days after last exposure, but with the nationwide problems on the new test, we-who-get-the-panicked-calls-to-place-these-cats are advising that cats be retested immediately. (IDEXX does know about the problem, and will admit it to vets; however, tho they've asked for the names and contact info for those who have stats--national rescues, and special-needs sanctuaries--they've never followed up when they were provided with same.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen and Nicky try to cheer Bob up.
Even though Bob was tested years ago, this is the time to make SURE he is FIV+ because that will effect his ability to get a surgeon to take on his case. Because he was not neutered at an appropriate age, he got FIV. This is my Mother's fault and I will never forgive her for not caring for her cat. His life would have been so much better if he'd been neutered sooner and not left outdoors to get into fights with other territorial males.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen decides to lick Bob's head while Nicky is...Nicky.
I started to cry when I got the news...big, shaky tears. I tried not to cry, but he knew I couldn't hold back. Dr. Larry rubbed my arm and told me about a woman whose dog had the same thing Bob does. That he opened the dog up and saw the mass and called the owner and said he should put the dog down. The mass was too big. The dog would die anyway. She was going through a bad divorce. The dog was all she had. She demanded he cut the mass off-so he took half the liver. The dog lived...another two and a half YEARS. But Bob's not that dog and Bob could have cancer and Bob has FIV+ and he's a senior...blah blah blah...
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen being cute, as usual.
I just wanted to fall over, curl up in a ball and weep. But that won't help Bob get better or live a bit longer, at least.
So I asked a few questions, then left the exam room. The first thing I saw was Moonpie's face! His new owner, as promised, brought Moonie and Patty to meet Dr. Larry now that they are adopted. I couldn't have been happier to see their friendly faces. I took Moonie out of his cat carrier and held him. He sat comfortably in my arms. Both cats meowed furiously at me. I hope they weren't asking me to take them home. I wanted to, but they will be happy in their new home one day. Right now they're doing well, but are still scared. Their new owner says that each day the calm down a bit more and become a bit more cuddly. With three young boys to play with, it's a big change for them. I told her to give it a month and that I'm always there for her whenever she had a question. She told me to come visit them any time. It would be too tempting to sneak them back home with me, but it was really GOOD to see them again.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. My boy, Bob.
We loaded Bob into the car, alongside Nora and drove separately home. I got Bob fed and gave him his liver medicine. He ate well, then went to his heated bed for a nap. It was just like any other day, completely unremarkable, save for the part that I know there may not be many more such unremarkable days ahead.
As Hurricane Earl churns in the Atlantic, I sit and wait and wonder if it's going to behave and only give the folks here in Connecticut a glancing blow of high winds and torrential rain or if the weather reports will be wrong and Earl will take a devious leap west and blast us with its' Category 2 fury.
I realized that should we ever take a direct hit that I have nowhere to go that would allow cats-and certainly not foster cats that also have ringworm. I couldn't even put them in the car with the healthy cats.
I'd be forced to stay behind.
So Sam and I got up at 6AM. This was not my idea of a good time. No one should get up until at least 9AM and 10AM would be even better. Anyway, we wanted to get to the grocery store and buy some non-perishable items like pudding cups, nuts, chocolate covered raisins. You know-important things that will keep us healthy if we lose power—which happens if you fart too hard around here. We expect the power will go out-which also means, no WATER.
We live in a house where everything is run by electricity-including the pump that goes to our 390' deep well. That means no shower and NO FLUSHING. Not fun. We have those 5 gallon bottles of water and a dispenser. Some of the bottles are empty so we filled them with tap water. Ah ha! Now we will be able to flush, though holding a 40 pound jug of water, aiming over the toilet tank, then hoping you don't miss and dump it all over the floor or miss and get it into the toilet BOWL, which would splatter whatever was currently IN the bowl all over the walls.
Gosh, I hope the power doesn't go out tomorrow. I just don't think there's enough bleach in the world to clean my walls after that.
As I wait to find out if my little house in the woods is going to be decimated by Hurricane Earl, I thought I'd catch you up on a BUNCH of news...in no particular order...
Her leg, HELLO!, is HEALED! She will walk just fine. She beat the infections, but traded them off for a cold. That said she is well enough now to go into foster care. I heard her foster home is terrific and her rescuers, called The Cat Women, should be getting a check from me via Sweetwater Vet Hospital, to cover ALL of HOPE's medical bills! There will be a bit left over and that will go into a fund to help other cats who need vet care.
HOPE has a new name: Ariel. This will mark her new journey. In a very strange coincidence, Ariel's foster mom is none other than Mary Jo-who is the subject of item number 2!
There aren't enough swear words to cover how I feel about Pattycake getting ringworm. She had it in transport, but only a tiny dot on her ear. I didn't even NOTICE what you see below. Granted the area was shaved after Dr. Larry's Vet Tech, Mighty Lauren found it!
And of course, a few days later I felt some "crud" on her brother, Moonpie's ear so he's got it, too. Both cats are in the bathroom for eternity, or another month. Then they will be 5 months old and even harder to find a forever home for. If this is as bad as it gets I will be grateful. If the 4 little kittens in the foster room get it, too...that will be really bad...if my cats get it...well...not good...not good at all.
This is why having TWO cats is nice. If one gets sick, no problem. If both got sick, no problem! When they ALL start to get sick? PROBLEM! Having EIGHT CATS is NOT FOR SOMEONE WITH A WEAK CONSTITUTION-which is WHY I should have TWO CATS!
Thanks to Barb Lowe at Winging Cat Rescue and two other rescue groups, five cats from Jasper were saved, along with three others from Douglas and eight by our friend Joan Flores in TN, along with six from Heard County and three more who were supposedly rescued but their rescue DUMPED THEM!!!!!...so they were RE-RESCUED!
Yes, there's a price for rescuing all these cats. Barb needs Scotch and a vacation somewhere quiet AND she needs $400.00 to cover transport. Let's show her how we can help her money woes disappear and thank her for all her hard work, saving these babies!
6. Little Maria WILL be having her surgery next week! Stay tuned for LOTS MORE NEWS ABOUT THIS BIG EVENT FOR A LITTLE KITTY!
That is if my power doesn't go out tomorrow...and Earl keeps his distance.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson
Before I found the big barf to clean up or even made it out of bed, this was the first thing I saw this morning; Nicky and Blitzen, snuggled together. Nicky weighs 19 lbs and is one of the biggest cats I have ever seen. At 8 months, little Blitzen looks like he's got a long way to go before he'll be as big as his new “brother.”
Looks like Blitzen has learned how to fit in quite well.
But really. We need a bigger bed. Sam's legs are behind Blitzen and Sam is almost hanging off the mattress! Oops.
I'm not getting any younger. That's for sure. Every day new aches pop up and the type on cat food can labels looks like a secret code only a mouse could read. I don't have children (other than furry ones) and my family is sparse, mostly non-cat people (how that happened, I don't know) or I hate their guts (oops).
That leaves me with a predicament.
Who will care for my cats after I die? Sam and I are together so often that we could die together in an accident. What then? What if Sam dies first, then I die?
©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob has already had two families that I know of. Will he have another one day?
I have a Will. In it, I dictated that the Director of the group I'm with should find homes for my cats. I have come to realize that that choice is not a good one any longer. I would rather know the homes my cats are going to now, if, at all possible. Just as people do with children, I would like to choose “Godparents” for my cats.
Am I being morbid? NO. I'm being realistic. Shit happens even when you're 18 or 32. I'm pushing the big 5-0. I've been lucky so far, but one day the luck will run out.
©2008 Robin A.F. Olson. Cricket sleeps. My former feral is mostly too shy around anyone but us. What will become of him? He's a really sweet boy. He would not make it in a shelter.
I started to imagine putting just one person in charge of all the cats. They would get my house, most of my stuff, but would have to live here until all the cats pass away (naturally!), then they can do what they want with the stuff. But that's a lot to ask.
The other problem is that the people who would give my cats the best home, already HAVE, in most cases, quite a few cats, already. Asking them to take 8 more is too much. Perhaps, asking them to take one or two is possible?
I don't have to have it all sorted out in a day (I hope), but I dipped my toe into the water to see how it would feel. I asked someone to take Bob Dole, should he outlive me.
I asked, Super-Deb.
©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Spencer. The pouffy cat with his own fan club. Spencer is my beloved, but he wouldn't be an easy fit into just any home. He must have play time or he can be bossy with other cats. He's an alpha-boy, too and does not like belly rubs or to be picked up. That said, he loves to be near me at all times and he's “my boy.”
I love Super-Deb, but who wouldn't love someone who is super? Even though I've known SD for many years, I don't know her very well. She is a private person, with me, but I get the feeling she's shared things with me that maybe not many other people know. She may seem to be a bit guarded, but it doesn't take long for her to reveal a wicked dry sense of humor. Her devotion to her own animals and her loving care of them is a beautiful sight to behold. She really knows her stuff and has been a mentor to me during so many crises and a calming voice during the worst of it.
©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. Petunia or “'Tunie” as I call her. She should be called; “Princess.” She's clever, chats with me and can do tricks, but she is high strung-no wonder, she's one of the lowest cats and I know the boys pick on her some times. She would be great in a home with no other cats other than her mama, Gracie. I know she would blossom.
She's jokingly called “Aunt Debbie” when Bob goes to Dr. Larry's. Bob loves her and vice versa. He will let her brush him and he won't let me do as much. I only want Bob to visit Dr. Larry when Aunt Debbie is there to oversee his care. It's a perfect fit for SD to take Bob.
©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. I should re-name this cat, “Poor-Gracie.” for she is not in good shape. I'll write more about her, separately, but she's had a very long road with a skin ailment that's taken her beauty and her joy in life. She needs a kind hand and a knowledgeable person to keep her healthy.
Yesterday we were talking on the phone about my worries about Gracie. I didn't have the nuts to ask her about Bob, so I sent her an email, shyly asking her to ignore my being a loonie, and would she consider taking Bob (along with some money for his care) if something happens to me and Sam? She wrote back a resounding YES!
A few minutes later, my phone rang. SD blurted; “Can I have Blitzen, too?!”
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob and Blitz. Some days things are just perfect.
I didn't want to ask her for that, thinking it was too big of a request, but of course, YES. I would be happy for her to take him, too.
I've got four more cats to figure out homes for, unless Sam wants me to try to place his cats, too, and then it will be six. Once we have this worked out, I go to my lawyer. I want to protect my cats as much as I can after I die. They shouldn't have to face death row at a shelter because they might be older or sickly. It's not fair to them at all.
©2009 Robin A.F. Olson. I assume there will be a fist-fight over Nicky, but with Nicky, comes Nora. Maybe they can go back and live with their brothers; “Charles and Bailey,” but I haven't asked just yet.
Nick and Nora. Sam's cats. These two cats are just about the biggest cats I've ever seen. Nicky is not even fat, he's just gigantic. Nora, well, she's slowly slimming down, but still kinda-sorta looks like a baby seal at the right angle.
Well, it's Sunday, folks, a perfect day for a long snuggle with the kitties, maybe read a good book with a cup of tea or coffee? Maybe a ripped, shirtless, guy would bring me some donuts, while I'm relaxing? Maybe he would also rub my feet for at least two hours (per foot). Then he would clean the house and prepare an elegant, delicious meal for me to enjoy, before he LEAVES.
Ah, Sunday. A day for dreams.
I'm not big on tooting my own horn. My efforts are all about saving cats. That said, it's been a very strange few days. I'm getting my 15 minutes of fame and then some...
Monday I asked my Director about doing a “Fur Raiser” for Matter of Trust. She liked the idea. Tom, the owner of our local pet food store liked the idea and offered to help by being the drop off location for any fur we collect. I began designing flyers and a banner, some web graphics and whatever else we need. I also wrote the Press Release and our Director sent it off to the local paper. I sent it off to the local News stations.
On Wednesday, a reporter for one of the local newspapers saw a comment I made on Facebook about the Brookfield Craft Center closing its' doors. She asked to interview me about it and I agreed. I used the opportunity to tell her about our “Fur For the Gulf” Fur-Raiser and she liked the idea and said she would talk to her Editor about it. The Editor liked the idea and asked her to interview me AGAIN and to send a photographer to my house to get a shot of me brushing the cats (easier said that done, I can tell you that!).
Nicky is going to star in the local paper in a day or two! Here he is just after the photo shoot, still looking like a model.
Out of three news programs I contacted, one, NBC, contacted me right away and want to do a story about us. With any luck, they'll be at Your Healthy Pet on Saturday, early in the afternoon. I've arranged to have our mama cat, Sally Sox there with her 6 kittens-just for the photo op and hopefully some viewers will fall in love with the kitties and adopt them. Why not? Kittens have to be brushed and can donate fur, too!
Today the article hit about the Craft Center. I think it's a hoot. If you want to read it, it's HERE. Tomorrow or Saturday or Sunday or who knows when, the articles about the Fur For the Gulf will be out.
How much fur will we collect? I already know a Vet and a groomer who is going to donate fur. I have a little bag from our photo session (most of it ended up on me) and I have a feeling we'll get a lot more. No one knows if this will work or not. If we'll be stuck having to cough up a lot of money for shipping or if we will scratch our heads and wonder why we did this. I wish we got all this press over our kitten programs, but it's a start. By doing something a bit unusual, I was able to get our group some attention. I have to say, the irony of writing a blog called: Covered in Cat Hair and knowing I'm about to collect cat hair on purpose, didn't go unnoticed.
So two newspaper articles and a tv news spot. Not a bad start. If anyone wants my autograph, just drop me an email. Hee hee.
Circa 2006, the cats gather 'round the fridge. Is it for a late night snack? In so many words, YES.
Go ahead, YOU tell me what this means. Don't need a manual to understand this cat behavior I photograhped in 2006, right?
Coincidently, the same thing is going on in my bathroom right now. Some critter is makin' a whole lotta noise in the wall behind the shower stall. Sweet! Guess it's time to pull out the havahart trap before my cats find whatever creature has moved in.
By the way, the mouse that was under the fridge was probably depressed and suicidal because I can't figure out any other reason why a mouse would DARE come into my house!