A southern girl in the Pacific Northwest

I read an article recently which posited that cats think their humans are giant, dorky, clumsy other cats. Dogs obviously react to people differently than they do to other dogs, and to their own humans in even more specialized ways. Cats, not so much.

The idea that Stripey and Henry think of me as their huge special needs cat mom just cracks me up.

Stripey : her litter box has WATER in it!
Henry: she eats with her paws!
Stripey : Get this! She grooms herself with a tool!
Henry: she only purrs at night and its really loud and sounds like she can’t breathe!
Stripey : she puts on extra fur over her fur every day!
Henry: sometimes she leaks from her eyes!
Stripey:… And she’s blind in the dark.
Henry: HER TOYS ARE SO STUPID. They’re just paper! They don’t crunch or move!
Stripey : Look kid. I’ve been with her for 16 years. She’s harmless, but really slow and she’s weird. You’re never going to understand what she’s saying because she’s never managed to actually learn cat language. But she’s soft and she’s warm and she’ll snuggle you a lot. Also, she brings food, so there’s that. Just watch out for her. She can’t see or smell very well, so it’s up to us to keep her safe.
Henry: (solemn nod)

Stripey’s thyroid is OK. He’s lost another pound though, so she is concerned that he has Inflammatory Bowel Syndrome… Or intestinal cancer. We’re beginning a steroid treatment, which will increase the possibility that he will relapse into diabetes, so I’ll have to be careful to check his BG regularly. If the steroid treatment doesn’t produce satisfactory results, we’ll go for a ($500!!!!!) ultrasound and proceed from there.

The ok news is that both IBS and intestinal cancer are treatable, though not curable. He is 16. I am staying optimistic.


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