Tag: cats

Some Things 1/10

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 2 Comments on Some Things 1/10

1) K came through with the most adorable, soft, crocheted blanket for my familiar. It’s now adding more padding and a shit ton more style to his heated cat bed. What a good friend. It’s such a sweet comforting gesture when I could REALLY use it. I wish I could show mom. I love you, K!

Fuzzy

2) I saw a Lysol commercial today. We’re still smack in the middle of Covid (for future reference). Has ANYONE seen a bottle of Lysol since February last year? Why are they spending money on advertising? It’s not an old commercial either – it said it kills the Covid virus in the commercial. We fucking KNOW, Lysol. Put your money into getting that shit on the shelves. You think you need to advertise your product right now? It’s aerosol gold.

Wait. Let me check something.

There is literally an 8 pack on ebay for $129.99 plus $19.99 shipping right now. People are scalping Lysol. And they’re advertising.

3) I’m using wool dryer balls now. How hippie is that? We finally ran out of dryer sheets and these things are supposed to last forever without all the chemicals. Do they really prevent static? We shall see… free-trade, ethically sourced-from Nepal, hand-felted by little old hippie ladies, happy sheep dryer balls. We shall see.

My Spirit Animal is Slowly Dying

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on My Spirit Animal is Slowly Dying

So when mom died I freaked out.  Oh shit, no one else is dying.  I told Mr C I was taking the cat to the vet.  He’s only ever been to the vet for emergencies.  Which hey, I grew up poor, animals didn’t go to the vet.  Hell, he’s already been to the vet more in his short life than I’ve been to the dentist.  But I have money now so I’m taking the cat to the vet. 

I had them do everything.  Full work up.  Six hundred dollars of work up.  This cat is my soul.  I got him when I was agoraphobic in college and he’s all I had.  We’ve come a long way.  I’m married, I graduated college, and even more importantly: I’m medicated now.  But this cat is still my soul outside of my body.  No one fucks with my cat.  No one.  When he had an abscessed open wound and Mr C wouldn’t let him sleep on our bed, I slept on the couch for two months.  Not because I was mad at Mr C.  No, but I’m not shutting my soul away from me because he might get blood on the bed.  Especially when he’s in pain!  I’m sleeping with the cat.  Goodnight. 

Anyway, so his first ever vet checkup – at the grand old age of 15.  He has mild renal failure and arthritis.  My poor familiar!  He’s never more than 10 feet from me when I’m home and now he’s gonna die?  I just assumed he was immortal.  Aren’t witches familiars immortal?  I didn’t see myself living another 15 years when I got him, this shit just wasn’t considered. 

Oh… what if Satan showed up and offered me my cats life for my soul?  That’d be fucked up.

Anyway.  Now he takes medicine twice a day and I have to give him fluids through an IV under his skin twice a week.  Poor little guy.  I gave him fluids for the first time today.  They went all lopsided and now he has like 200ccs of liquid on one side.  Sorry buddy.  That can’t be comfortable.  With that and the pain meds for your arthritis, maybe you should just lay down. 

Well.  I didn’t get to tell mom about any of this.  So now I feel better.  It’s out there.  I did order him a heated cat bed.  I got out the heated blanket in the meantime.  He likes it very much.  And I ordered him a staircase to get up on the bed.  And he has to switch to a new diet so I ordered three different kinds of kidney food so he can pick his favorite.  He has options.  Is there anything else I can get you?  Beer?  More stinky wet food? Blood sacrifice?  TELL ME WHAT YOU NEED.