Bob Dole

Bob Dole (my cat, not the ex-candidate for Vice President) has been coughing for about a week. I admit I didn't give him enough hairball remedy, but thankfully he, somehow, managed to hork this bad boy up.

Okay, it's gross, but you have to admit it's impressive, too! In all the years of discovering hairballs, I've never seen one this big.

So now, my dear readers, I challenge you. Can your cat blast a bigger hair hunk? You've got a week. You can't "make" a fake hairball with your hands or in photoshop. You need to include a ruler next to said hairball so we can see how long it is. It's gotta be the real thing. Also, include a photo of the cat who did the “horking.”

To enter, you must email a photo of the hairball w/ruler and photo of the cat who “made” it to: info@coveredincathair.com by Friday, April 23, 2010.

Prizes? Hey, do I look like I'm sponsored by a major corporation? I might have a Furminator or a box of Catnip Tea I can toss your way. Is it great motivation for you to send in pix? Heck no. Is bragging rights worth something to you? I think, YES! The winning hairball will be posted right here on CiCH, along with a photo of the now somewhat less hairy cat (if the owner provides one).

So stop cleaning up those messy hairballs and get out your camera, first!

Note: open to anyone who has a camera, a cat and a cat who just puked up a hairball. Please DO NOT HARM or otherwise induce your cat to vomit. I mean, really, do I have to put that in writing?

Do not play with your food!

Okay, play with it, but eat it when you're done.

Bob LOVES frakenprey-which in this case is the neck and giblets of a chicken we were going to roast. I cut up some of the bits because Bob only has a few teeth. I don't have to worry about Blitzen, so he got a neck to gnaw on to help clean his chompers. He really had a blast dragging a chunk around, throwing it up in the air and carrying it in his mouth. No, not particularly hygienic, but I cleaned up after his playtime was over.

P.S. Bob and Blitzen LOVE their raw treats!

How do you get your furniture to look like it does at my house-covered with cat hair? First, throw away that lint roller refill and buy a new piece of furniture. In this example, it's a comfy chaise lounge. The process doesn't work on hard surfaces, so we opted to add nice, complimentary soft green cushion, to go with our cats fur colors. Some of you might say; “No! You need to match the cats fur so it doesn't show up as well. Only cowards do that. You need to embrace your cat-hair-covered-ness! Especially this season. You want your cat hair to “pop” off the surface, so if we could have gotten black cushions, we might have gone that route for a more dramatic effect.

Bob enjoys the brand new cushions. Not only do they compliment his fur color, but the surface is perfect for locking down and holding any loose fur from his coat.

Also, make sure the fabric has a rough texture. This not only attracts your cat it, but it also locks the fur down on the surface better and makes any feeble attempts to remove it nearly impossible.

While Bob sleeps, his fur is shedding, beginning the process of covering the cushions with his cat hair.

The time period between you revealing the new furniture and the cat sitting on it should be less than a few minutes. Clean cushions are passé!

At first, it may be difficult to let go of trying to clean off the cushions, but with patience and some will power you can achieve the same elegant look shown here.

Due to time constraints in getting this article to press on time, we had to create an “artist's” interpretation of how the lounge chair should look in a few days. This effect would require three additional and differently colored cats to also spend time shedding on the cushion. Your results may vary depending on the furniture color and color of your cat/s.

Remember, the look for Spring is big, and bulky cat hair covered cushions and bedding. I hope to see some photos of your covered in cat hair collection soon!

Little Blitzen is the last of Santa's Team to be in foster care. The rest are off to their forever homes. Blitzen would have been long gone had he not needed treatment for Ringworm. His last dose of meds will be on Saturday. He's had no sign of any ringworm for a few weeks. Other than an occasional sneeze, his health seems good.

I also let him out of his room a few weeks ago, too. Once the others were gone, it was too unkind to leave a little guy alone for so long. I knew it put my cats at risk of getting ringworm, but since the stuff is airborne, I had to figure they've all had a snoot-ful of it by now.

Blitzen loves the cat mat that Aunt Clare made him!

I think he's wear it if he could.

Bob's not too sure he wants to share the cat mat, even though there's one behind him...yes, it IS considerably smaller and Bob wants what Bob wants. Blitz is happy to have someone to roughouse with. Spencer is staying out of it this time.

Open the door to the deck and all fighting ends. The boys love the fresh air.

Blitz has been trying to find his place among the other cats. Petunia is very angry about him being here and Spencer has ramped up attacking her. It's a complex situation having eight cats. Spencer wants to bully Petunia and so does Bob. I can't understand why, though I do believe that Petunia might want to be the alpha cat OR she is so fearful that she needs a nicer alpha cat, instead of a bossy guy like Bob or Spencer. Having Blitzen here doesn't help her, but it does give the big boys someone to play with and chase around, so maybe they'll leave her alone a bit more often?

Someone's tail is growing faster than their body. I'm not sayin' who, though.

And don't think for a minute that Blitzen is in any danger. In fact, the little squirt instigates many of the clashes. He's not aggressive. he just wants to play. I've seen Spencer race up and down the stairs with Blitzen hot on his tail! It's great to see the cats running around more. Even Bob and Nicky, who have been slow to warm to Blitz, have begun to show signs of accepting him.

Blitzen and Nicky. Looks like the little guy has a long way to go yet before he's as big as Nicky-if that is even possible!

I feel bad for Blitzen. He's doing his best to fit in where there isn't a whole lot of room. He was sleeping between Sam and I most nights, but now he is under the bed. I think ”the girls,” Gracie and Petunia, had a talk with him and asked him to get lost. He won't even hang out on the bed and they rarely leave it. Something is up.

I know you want to come outside on the deck, but you're too young! Talk about guilt!

I really want Blitzen to be happy here. Sam is ready to adopt him. I see some definite benefit, but I also see the problems. He might not get as much time and attention from us as he would from a family with only one other cat, but he will have other cats to interact with here in addition to his human family. The problem is that this sweet little guy has had a few cats hiss at him, so now he's confused about being friends with other cats. I really hope he can find one or two of my guys to be closer to. I'm sure he misses the closeness he shared with Cupid and his sisters and it's not fair for him to go without cat companionship.

Blitzen has done very well adapting to a much bigger space, lots more cats and challenges. He remains a sweet tempered kitty and he always makes me smile.

I have to ask myself if I can be happy letting him go and knowing he's in a great home, that's not mine; or decide that although we weren't looking for another cat, that one found us.

It's time to adopt him or put Blitz on Petfinder.

While I wallow in self-loathing and despair over parting with many of my foster kittens, I thought I'd mention that my latest article just went live on Feline-Nutrition's web site.

It's a story about how I got started feeding Bob (Dole)(my cat, not the dude), a raw diet. Just after I wrote the article, I made my first batch of “homemade” raw for the clutter. Since it was too late to go to press, I'm including some extra photos, here.

For my crew, this is what it takes to feed my cats for a little over TWO days. Yes, it's a lot. It's kind of a pain in the ass, actually, but I'm still trying to find my pace and getting used to not opening a can and dumping it onto a plate. At least now I know for sure what my cats are getting in their food.

For anyone who fears this is gross, it's not. It smells nice and fresh. The trick is getting it warmed up without cooking it. If it's still icy cold the cats won't eat it.

If you want to know why I bother, look at the before and after photos of Spencer, below. He was a blimp a few years ago. It was hysterical to look at him, but I was doing him an injustice and I knew it. Spencer also has a chronic breathing problem, which left him wheezing all the time. These days I can barely hear him. I'm sure the diet helped keep any swelling down in his sinuses

Here's Bob on day one of the new raw diet. He ate as though he had never eaten before. Most of the cats cleaned their plates, which I have NEVER seen them do in almost a decade. This might sound weird, but they also seemed relaxed and content. Most of them passed out after they ate and washed their faces. It's not like that every day. I'm still working out the kinks, but it's nice to see them be interested in their food.

The article is on the front page, so if you care to read it, just look for Bob's cute face and you've found the right place.

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

It wasn't enough to take SEVEN foster cats to the Vet on Tuesday. Of course I have my OWN cats who need occasional vet care, too. Right. I DO have my OWN cats. I keep forgetting about them!

He looks so sweet because his is still DRUGGED in this photo!

Spencer was up first. He wasn't too thrilled about being at the Vet. He was due for a dental cleaning and WAY overdue for a CLAW (talons of DOOM) TRIM. To make things easier, I brought a “to do” list for Dr. Larry and to make SURE he trimmed Spencer's claws (TOD), I wrote: “Please trim the Little Fu@ker's claws...” I figure, humor is a good way to drill in the request to get those claws trimmed. Spencer LOVES to sit on my chest at night and no matter how far I pull the covers up, he has a way of sneaking his claws around the edges and digging those tips right into my shoulder. I will do what it takes to get some relief.

Spencer wheezes. After thousands of dollars spent on tests, it was determined that Spencer has scar tissue in his right sinus from an old URI (from before I adopted him). Because his breathing is effected, I always worry about him going under anesthesia AND he does NOT like to be messed with while at the Vet, too. So he can get himself VERY worked up and out of breath from fighting everyone who has to handle him. He will hiss and spit and make life HELL for everyone at Maple Ridge. He really IS a nice cat, but just not when he's getting a cath removed.

One of the other things on my list was to check Spencer's bald patches to determine if, indeed he has symmetrical alopecia or not. If you recall, Spencer looked like this (see below) a few months ago.

So, the ”Little Fu@ker” (now his new nickname) got his teeth cleaned, his claws trimmed and his fur combed. His fur is growing back nicely, so Spencer isn't sick. Hurrah! That said, I GAVE SPENCER THE BALD PATCHES FROM RIPPING OUT HIS MATS. MY BAD!. In my own defense, Spencer DOES have very soft, delicate fur. I know. Call the Cops on me! I'm sorry, Spencer!

Spencer is getting ready to kick some ass. Ears are locked and sphincters are loaded.

I"m not even sure if I should write the next bit 'cause I'm really going to look bad! Spencer also lost 10 oz in a few MONTHS. That's a LOT of weight. So now I'm starving him, too! First abuse, then starving. Great. Actually, I've taken him OFF dry food. No more for him AND I have been transitioning him to a RAW diet. He gets a combo of RAW and canned grain-free. Apparently, I can give him a bit more than I was. Will fix that. His weight is great. He's just under 13 lbs.

This is where I shine as a cat-mom: Spencer's wheezing is almost GONE! We're sure it's due to his diet change and possibly his weight loss, but most likely the dry food was irritating him in some way. So there! I'm not a complete Cat-Mommy Dearest!

I also brought Bob Dole in to see Dr. Larry. Bob's been vomiting a bit and also sneezing. Since he's FIV+, I don't want to risk him getting REALLY sick. Right now Bob has no fever and I needed them to take his temperature (I am NOT going to check that on my own! I would like to keep both my hands, after all). Bob was congested, but not bad. He got some Convenia and we'll wait and see how he does. So far, whatever he has is mild. Thank goodness. Super-Deb combed out Bob's fur which he couldn't decide if he loved or hated her doing. SD even combed off some poop particles. Okay, dingle berries. Anyway, Bob is a bit happier for it. Well, okay, I'M HAPPIER for it. Super Deb was shocked that Bob would “go out looking like that.” SD was right. Bob should start wearing pants.

Bob lost 8 oz, too! Starving your cats, Robin? Say no!

Spencer (aka, Little Fu@ker) got through his dental, then drove me INSANE once we got home. I wasn't supposed to feed him and he was supposed to be confined to a room for the night. He clawed at the bedroom door, desperate to get out. He would not stop no matter how many times I yelled, cajolled, begged. Around 10pm I gave up and fed him some broth. That wasn't enough, so he returned to trying to claw a hole through the door. I was so happy he was okay and so pissed because he can really be an annoying maniac some times. By 11pm I had enough. There was NO WAY anyone was going to sleep unless loonie-boy got FED and got FED NOW. Who cares if his body temperature lowered from eating? I'll set him on fire so he will be warm after he eats.

I AM JUST JOKING. No need to call the authorities, but he was really being a pain in the ass.

All is well for now. Tomorrow Jennifer will bring Comet and Rudy here, then we'll drive over to visit Dr. Larry and Super Deb. I hope that we can get the ball rolling on ruling out Ringworm and also find some answers regarding why Rudy isn't recovering from the URI.

That will add up to four trips to the Vet in five days. I hope I don't have some sort of Vet-visiting disorder. Granted I DO enjoy chatting with Dr. Larry, Super Deb, Jessica and everyone else at Maple Ridge, but it IS a bit embarrassing to think if I had been going to the gym as often as I go to the Vet I would certainly look like a super model by now.

Some of my cats just don't get along. For whatever reason, Bob (on the far right ) and Petunia (center) don't like each other. Bob always goes after Petunia and is quick to give her a swat if she gets too close. Is it because SHE wants to be the alpha cat and Bob wants to keep his position of authority? Perhaps.

I bought an electric blanket (on sale at Tar-gay), thinking it would be a cozy treat for my cats, since I keep the heat low in the winter. It took all of five minutes before the cats were lining up to lay on it. Not only lay on it, but stretch out, relaxed, without a care in the world. This is pretty big stuff around here. Gracie usually is really tense and high strung and Petunia is very jumpy, too. Yet, once on the warm blanket, they started to unwind, the tension falling away, as they turned into furry puddles of bliss.

I think I'm on to something! Here are mortal enemies, hanging out together, peacefully. It makes me wonder if the same thing could happen in the Middle East if everyone would just have a Spa Day together? Think about it. Put down your weapons and get a hot stone massage and a dead sea salt scrub. I mean, really, if the warmth of an electric blanket can get my cats to get along, just think what aromatherapy might do for World Peace?

I'm too tired to plot out the points of this post so I'll ramble along the best I can. Last night I was up until about 3am with palpitations-I'm guessing from too much caffeine and stress. On top of that, Christmas, has not been an easy holiday for me to endure-yes endure. My parents are gone-3 years since my Mother died and 10 since my dad's been gone. Holidays give me a stomach ache, mostly. Little things make me cry. I try to find solace in visiting with my close friends, but all the family traditions are gone and I feel like I'm wearing someone else's clothes. Maybe they protect me from the cold, but they don't fit quite right-maybe they smell a bit odd, too.

Today didn't get off to the best start. I was already tense about Donner and Cupid, who weren't eating well, or at all, the day before. When I opened the door to the foster room, I feared seeing a dead cat. Thankfully everyone was alive, but Mama-Cupid had clearly vomited all the food she ate the night before. I had gotten her to eat by offering her about ten different foods. I finally found a winner- crappy, grained dry food, but she ate. That's what was important. Now, a huge splash of vomit covered the left side of her dog crate. She was curled inside a covered cat bed next to the mess, looking limp and weak.

Sam has to help me give the meds to the cats. They get so many different medications, I can't hold them and give them the drops, ointment, creams, pills, what have you...When I tried to get some probiotic paste into Blitzen's mouth, he squirmed, then bit my thumb-a deep puncture bite. I threw myself backward and howled in pain. I knew I was in trouble if I didn't get it cleaned out quick.

I ran to the bathroom and grabbed at the betadine and hydrogen peroxide. I washed my thumb, trembling all the while. I soaked my thumb in a peroxide filled Dixie cup and kept squeezing at the wound to push any contaminants out of my finger. It bled profusely, which was good. Hopefully I got it cleaned out enough to keep me from having to visit the ER on a HOLIDAY!!!

After that, what could I do? I had to finish giving the 4 remaining cats their meds. By now I was cross and Sam was silent. We just did what we had to do, then I had to figure out how to get Cupid to eat, so I force fed her some A/D and warm water gruel. I hoped she could keep that down and that it would help her find her hunger again. She looked so miserable, but I have to do the best for her, whatever that may be.

Thankfully, little Donner ate. She ate a bit of this and a bit of that and a bit more, then had a drink. She looked a bit more perky. With any luck, she is out of the woods and on her way to being healthy again.

Then I tried to feed my own cats. Poor Bob is sneezing. He's either sick from being around Nora or he's got the nasty-ass bug my fosters have. He was reluctant to eat. I'm sure he can't smell his food. I tried and tried to get him to eat. I finally gave up and gave him some grain-free dry. He hasn't had dry food in a month. He gobbled it up greedily. At this point, I want to keep him going. I don't care what it takes.

I also put out a brand new electric blanket for Bob. I got it on sale at Tar-jay. I let it warm up, then carried a very irritated Bob over to the new bed. He sat on it, feeling the warmth. He started to purr and gently knead at the blanket. I feared he would electrocute himself, but he wasn't doing it too hard. He laid down and purred deeply. He looked relaxed and content. It was great to see him like that.

Sam put on the "Yule Log" DVD. It's video footage of a fireplace with a nice fire going, so in essence you can pretend your TV IS a working fireplace. The soundtrack is rather poorly orchestrated Christmas songs, but it does the trick. It throws me over the edge and I burst into tears. I'm taken back to all the years my Mother would turn the TV to WPIX to watch the Yule Log broadcast. This was before there WERE DVDs or even computers in the home. My Mother would have my brother and I stand in front of the TV and pretend to warm our hands on the warmth from the phoney fire. Of course she would take a photo to commemorate the event. One year, when we were in our teens, my brother lit a piece of paper on fire and held it in front of the TV to add to the realism. I was terrified he would drop it onto the floor and set the house ablaze. Hey, he did it when he was four, so why stop at 15?

Sam didn't know what to do. He offered to get some present for me to open. He just didn't get it. Opening a present isn't going to fix a broken, stressed out heart. Then Sam got real quiet again. This was just not going well at all. Some times I just want to give up and leave, but I don't. There is no running away from heartache or missing your parents.

We both tried to right the ship. I sucked it up and said we should open our presents. I didn't expect much, nor did he. We both had some good surprises and it was all right, though there was little joy, more polite friendliness. Let's just get through this...right?

We were invited to visit some friends. I thought it would keep my mind occupied, which it did, but Sam stayed on one side of our friend's home, while I was on the other. I tried to make peace, while he sat quietly with a cat on his lap. I know he might be hurting, too. Sam has to have a root canal in a few days. He was treated with a big antibiotic injection and said he was doing all right, but maybe he wasn't. I don't know. Sam doesn't say much. Maybe you're noticing that trend. I'm too tired to talk to him to figure it all out. I got nothing left. He's got...I don't know what. I know he went to bed at 9:30pm and I am up, too wired to sleep.

If Cupid doesn't improve, I'll take her to see Dr Larry tomorrow. She's too thin to not be eating. She's separated from her kittens so they can't bother her. It's weird. They seem to know she's in trouble. When she gets up to use her litter pan, they run over to her dog crate to look in on her with interest. They so want to be with her, but she pays them no mind. She does her business, then goes back to her bed. Her sparkle, what little she had when she got here, is gone. I hope I can get it back.

As for my own sparkle, well, the odds are that I will get that back one of these days and I will get through this Holiday season. What I can't get back is a part of my heart. It was left behind with a small, crazy family that lived in a 2-story colonial house on Salem Road in Trumbull, CT. They did silly things during Holidays, like Olympic Score belching at the dinner table or take a family portrait and where our heads would be, we each have taped in place, a vinyl die-cut placemat of Santa's smiling face. There was something about all of us together that was magic and there's no getting that back.

I've decided I want someone to build me a "safe room" in my house. You know, those rooms you hide in that even some crazed assassin with a battering ram can't enter if you happen to be the victim of a home invasion.

I'm not particularly fearful of someone breaking into my house while I'm here. I just want a place to EAT MY LEFTOVER MEATLOAF SANDWICH IN PEACE!!!

DAMN CATS!