Who Knew?

I just created a Facebook Fan Page so we could all hang out and chat a bit easier! I'm still learning the ropes on how to build satisfying content into a fan page, so please bear with me.

If you're on Facebook, do a search on “Covered in Cat Hair” and our page should come up. I'm going to add a link, but I'm not sure it will work! Oops. Try THIS. Did it work? Or not? Let me know!

Stop by and leave a msg or post photos of your cats or both! Hope to see you all there soon!

Dear Clare,

Thank you for the homemade cat mats. I know I'm supposed to give them to the foster cats-and I will, but I had to “test drive” one on my cats first.

Dear Clare,

What did you put in the cat mat? Spencer's sense of smell is poor. Normally he isn't interested in catnip. Is there something you want to tell me? Spencer is bunny-kicking the shit out of this mat. His eyes are glazed over. What is going on?

Dear Clare,

My cats won't share. They want their own mat. If they don't get one, they'll spat.

Dear Clare,

There is more square feet of cat, than there is square foot of cat mat. Can you make me a bedspread sized one?

Dear Clare,

Do you know if there's a catnip rehab facility in Connecticut? I'm thinking Bob might need to go there. He looks like he's had a bit too much and Nicky can't stop rolling around and yeowling incoherently. I'm afraid the neighbors are going to call the cops.

Dear Clare,

Nora would like to know if you can rub her belly to maximize her user experience (since she can no longer reach her own belly).

Dear Clare,

Nicky also asked if you could rub something, but I had to edit out what he said. I blame the drugs for his ungentlemanly outburst...plus, he had a surgery a few years ago and that sort of limited his options in that department, anyway.

Dear Clare & All My Dear CiCH Readers,

It's friends like you that are like a big mat of catnip for me. I can wrap myself up in your comforting words and breathe deep, feeling suddenly quite invigorated and alive when only moments before I was too busy licking my wounds to do much else.

With Love,

Robin

People often ask me; ”How can you let foster cats go? Don't you miss them? Doesn't it make you sad? Cry?”

I energetically answer that if I don't adopt them out, I can't rescue more. I already have seven cats, which is more than plenty. It's not wise to add on to the “family” for a variety of reasons. Sure, it hurts when the cats leave, but usually they're only here from just a few days to a few weeks. If that's the case, hey, anyone can do this. Just keep them moving in, then leaving promptly. It's doable.

What happens when it's NOT the case? What happens not only when you've had foster cats for a few MONTHS, but what if they were all sick? They all needed you? Some were so sick you didn't know if they would survive? How can you not become deeply attached?

How do you let THOSE foster cats go?

Jennifer has been caring for Rudy & Comet for months. They are no longer in their foster room, but have the full run of the house. They frolic and play and love life. Jennifer's been crying, thinking about them leaving. I've been reminding her that we'll find them a great home and we'll keep them together if we can. That she can't adopt more cats. Jennifer not only has plenty of cats, too, but she has seniors and special needs kitties. Adding two spunky kittens to that mix would not be good in the long term.

I'm not telling her anything she hasn't told herself. She's steeling herself for the day, which may come VERY soon, for when she has to say goodbye to them and I feel really bad about that. I never wanted her to have a bad experience fostering, but I can't protect her from this.

I, too, am faced with the same thing.

Today was the big day. After MONTHS of struggle, I was able to put all but Blitzen on Petfinder. The cats are ready to go, at last!

The problem is...in looking over my photos and selecting the ones that are the cutest and will garner lots of interested adopters, I found myself awash in tears. I could barely type out a description or upload a photo. I'm still crying now.

I just kept looking at their faces. I missed them and they are still here. I never want any of them to leave. They've all captured my heart and I honestly don't know if I can be here when they get adopted.

And if this wasn't painful enough, Sam and I are done after 17 years. I am flat out heartbroken. The person I used to be able to go to when I was sad and needed a hug is lost to me, probably forever.

I have lost so much in my life. I don't know how to go on.

I suppose this is what they call burnout or just a big, bad bump in the road? Whatever it's called, I don't recommend it.

I do the best I can. Maybe it's not enough. Certainly I'm flawed in how I deal with things. It's part of the human condition-that old clichè that no one is perfect.

March is just about here and I thought that perhaps in a week, all the fosters would be ready to go on Petfinder-the process of finding them homes would finally begin. Now that Blitzen probably has ringworm, all my plans are tossed in the wind. The balance of keeping them here until I'm sure they're healthy vs. the ticking clock, is a losing one. The older they get, the less chance they'll have of finding a home.

Cupid has been going crazy being confined. After three long weeks and her nightly rants-usually around 2 AM and 5 AM, where she'll start to cry and bang on the door to be let out test my patience. One morning, I was so angry I burst in the room and yelled, shoving her with my foot. I didn't hurt her, merely scared her, but it scared me, too. I think we're all tired.

I let her out the next day. Enough is enough. Quarantining her from the kittens didn't help keep them from getting the ringworm. No big surprise. I couldn't see the how it would help to keep her locked up any longer.

The big reunion didn't go as hoped. The kittens, their tails up high, ran to their Mother, eagerly sniffing her. She grabbed one and bit down on it, wrestled it to the ground and started to bunny-kick it. This was not play time. This was serious. Long gone are the days of Motherly love. I stopped her from doing more harm, but she continued to do it to the others.

I don't know enough about the Mother-Offspring relationship after the Mother has long since been spayed. I give her short time periods to run around with the kittens and if she gets out of hand, I put her back in seclusion. Again, the balance tips...trying to find a way for everyone to be comfortable and happy together.

Along this bumpy road, the balance has been tipped in my relationship with Sam, too. Today, out of the blue, he came down hard on me about something that didn't warrant such a harsh reaction. Apparently, I was supposed to know that whatever upset him, was not about the incident, itself, but from 17 years of other things that I can't quite understand.

I'm not asking anyone to take sides. I don't know who is right or wrong or if it matters any more. I just felt beat down and tired and done. I put my engagement ring back in its' box and left it by Sam's side of the bed. Is this it? I don't know.

All I know is that life is a struggle to seek “smooth sailing”-that perfect place where things are all right and everyone is happy. Thing is, maybe it's all just a struggle with no happy ending? Learning how to accept that...maybe that's what matters?

I was just thinking about this blog post. How I was going to write that this is it. In a few days, I can start putting some of the fosters up for adoption. FINALLY! We have an adoption event coming up on March 6th. Perfect!

About 5 minutes after I took this photo of me with Blitzen, I thought I would check on this bloody scratch I found on his head a few days ago. I couldn't really see it, but it felt crusty. My heart sank.

I got Sam to hold Blitz for me so I could look with a magnifying lens. Yeah, looked ringwormy. Then I got out my black light and looked again. I think it was florescing green-the telltale sign but his tear ducts looked a bit green, too.

So tomorrow I'll see if I can get the little bugger over to see Dr. Larry. If it IS ringworm, I can probably kiss any hope of getting this kittens adopted before they are adults, out the window. At almost three months off schedule, this is just killing me to have them here this long.

Oh well. Not like this is all that surprising. What I'm waiting for is for ME to get it. I predict I will get a big BALD ringworm lesion on my head just around my birthday in April and my trip to attend BlogPaws. Just you wait. I said it here, first!

I just HAD to do it! I just HAD to buy both of these paintings on Ebay yesterday. I kept looking at the listings and looking at the images. I asked the seller about them, hoping that I wasn't going to be duped and end up with some sort of computer generated print, mounted onto board.

I don't have them yet, so time will tell. Supposedly they're oil on board and painted in the late 1950's to early 1960's. I can't find much about the artist; L. Cassidy, but did find a few other paintings he or she did-of dogs.

I've always wanted Victorian era oils of kittens, but my budget does not allow for that. These little gems were sort of “affordable” and are only about 8" x 10." Will be easy to find a nice spot to hang them.

I'm so excited! I can't wait for them to arrive!

Plus, they NEVER need to go to the VET and they can't get RINGWORM!

PHOTOS BY TOMOKAZU KOSUGA

I LOVE the Japanese culture and I really LOVE how much they LOVE their cats. I have a small stash of books I've bought from amazon.co.jp (yes, JAPAN). I have NO IDEA what they say because I can't read Japanese, but there are so many great photos, it doesn't matter! Maybe some day I'll go to Japan, but with my fear of flying and lack of funds, that doesn't seem like something that will happen any time soon.

Apparently, Japanese landlords are douches. Most don't allow pets, so Norimmasa Hanada decided to change things. She opened Neko no mise (Shop of Cats) and the rest is history. Anyone lonely for the company of a cat or who is shy about meeting people, heads to Ms Hanada's shop. For a small fee, about $9/hr, her patrons PAY to sit in the cafe and pet and play with the cats. They can even buy food and treats for the cats for an extra charge!

You got that, right? They PAY to sit in the cafe with the cats. The "cover charge" pays for the cats Vet visits, food, litter, etc. and keeps out the folks from staying all DAY. Okay, we have shelters in this country that need people to come visit the cats-if not adopt them. Why not combine these two things together?

TOMOKAZU KOSUGA covered the story and it was picked up by Viceland.com (oo!) and translated into English-whew! To read the entire article, click HERE but keep in mind that this web site is more “adult” in nature, but not really bad at all. I'd rate it at a PG level if that's of concern.

Now, I just LOVE this idea, but am wondering if it could be done in the USA? What are the regulations regarding having cats in a shop that might serve coffee and tea? I'm thinking Covered in Cat Hair Cafe, coming to your town, soon! Who wants to bankroll me?

It's not my fault I get PMS. I didn't go online and order a 12-pack of the “Super-Beyatch 2010 Kit.” You know, the one with “extra Rage flavored” tablets?

I get PMS. Some times it's REALLY bad. I think it's PMDD, but since I'm going insane at the time, it's tough to do any research when all I want to do is slit my wrists, cry, get mad about things that only usually annoy me, watch chick flicks, overeat carbs, or do all of those things at the same time.

As a Public Service, I notify Sam a few days ahead to watch out. I do this every single month. Every single month he seems to FORGET to steer clear of me during this malström and gets pissed at me when I start to get pissy.

Yesterday we had to run some errands. Before we even left the house, Sam noticed we'd gotten a big shipment by the front door. I was delighted to see that Cupid's new Cat Tree had arrived! The box was too huge to schlep into the house so I suggested we cut it open and take the parts into the house and leave the box in the garage to take to out to be recycled later. So Sam stepped up and started ripping the box apart. Intent on being helpful, he grabbed at the contents of the box as I had already started to do. I hit some of his fingers and he recoiled back, shouted, then gave me a REALLY nasty look. Well my friends, that was it.

There goes the switch. KAH-CHONG! (Yes, that's the sound it makes. Trust me.) The PMS I had been trying so hard to avoid went from a simmer to a boil. I thought; “If he hadn't been trying so hard to be a Boy Scout (push me out of the way), we could have just gotten this done without the drama!” Now I was mad. He was mad. The tension only got worse as I drove (safely and not insanely) to the Bakery.

In trying to avoid things going more postal, I said that I didn't feel like we were getting along very well and that I thought we should forget doing the other errands and just go back home. Well, that just pissed Sam off even more, but what was I to do? I knew that at any moment I was going to lose control, drive into a tree, screaming all the while; “I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO HAVE PMS. I TOLD YOU. DID YOU LISTEN TO ME, EVER?!!!!SEE? THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT PAYING ATTENTION! WHY DIDN'T YOU STAND NEAR ME IN THE BAKERY? DO I SMELL BAD? YOU HATE ME, DON'T YOU!”

So we got home. I took off my coat, trying to be calm. Sam walked in the door, got his car keys and turned around and curtly said; “I'm going to the store.”

You have GOT to be kidding me! We didn't even HAVE to go to the store. So I offer up the shopping list and manage not to rip his head off. All I could do was think what a jerk he was for putting a bigger rift between us while I'm really trying NOT to do or say a thing. It's the only way to prevent Armageddon. 100% avoidance of each other until it passes!

I decided I was going to build the stupid cat tree for Cupid. I told myself I would go slow and if I got upset, that I would stop. I saw the video about how to build the cat tree on Drs. Foster Smith's web site. It looked super easy. I can do this. I do not need help!

RIGHT???!!!

Donner declares; “Mmmm...nothing smells like home more than me mum's bum!”

It's that time of year again. Time for Punxsutawney Phil to make hopeful predictions about the upcoming weather. Will winter lose it's icy grip soon or will we have to endure six more weeks of bone-chilling temps?

This year, through my very high-up contacts, I was able to ask Phil to add a prediction, just for me—well, for my foster cats. I asked Phil if he could tell me WHEN my fosters would be ready to get adopted. After all, they've been here for over a month and they appear to be getting to a point where maybe they're well enough to go to their forever homes.

Phil pondered my question for a moment, then came out of his snug burrow. His answer was clear:

I could have saved $278 by not taking Cupid to the Vet this morning and just figured, heck, the cats are going to be here FOREVER. Might as well get used to the idea of having TWELVE cats.

It appears that the little bald patch on her right rear leg is most likely

RINGWORM

Que the scary violin music! Cupid, watch out! The RINGWORM-Psycho is gonna get you. It's right behind you! Ack! Hey, don't rub your ringworm on the bed, while you're at it, OK?

We did a DTM culture, which takes 7-10 days to get a result. In the meantime, I have to treat the area externally, for now. No need for nasty anti-fungals. If Cupid gets another patch, she WILL have to take the meds. The hope is that we caught it quickly enough. Cupid also had a nasty rodent ulcer on her mouth and her blood tests showed a falling Hematocrit level, which could add up to an immune disorder (FIV+, FeLuk), so we re-did her combo test. Showed she still is negative/negative and negative for heartworm, too. We ran another CBC to see if she's doing better. She's certainly gained weight-up about THREE POUNDS now and she is still a sweetheart.

Of course, her kittens have been exposed to her, and so have we, and so has OUR BEDROOM. Cupid is to be quarantined from all of us for the next SIX WEEKS. Hence Phil's prediction. “He told me so,” I know!

So poor Cupid is locked up in the bathroom. It's cold and dark in there, so I'm going to go out and buy her a heater and a cat tree so she has some vertical space in the tiny room. I feel TERRIBLE about this. Saturday we were going to put her up for adoption. Now it will be March 16th before she is cleared again.

The bedroom's been cleaned up, kinda-sorta and I'm doing a mountain of laundry. I cleaned up the foster room as best I could, but I already know that Donner likes to groom her mama, so I'm guessing any day now the kittens will break with ringworm, too. They'll all have to stay put. No more running in and out of our bedroom for now.

If I only knew then, what I know now. Don't lick da Mama, Donner!

I'm going to take it in stride, not have a nervous breakdown, but I may begin to fantasize about running away from home or becoming an alcoholic or both.

Maybe I should ask Phil? Six more weeks of madness or is sanity just around the corner? If you see Phil, please don't ask him for me. I don't want to know the answer.