No rest for the wicked

Friends, I'm not wicked, am I? But if I'm not, then why is there no rest at all for me sept at night time! It's terrible, awful, and what happened before is even worse! There follows a tale of cat cruelty. Those of a tender disposition should not continue as this story contains scenes of a graphic nature.






It all started with a swolen nimple, just one. A nimple is such a tiny little thing, useless for most of your life except when you turn into a living milk bar, that you'd think it wouldn't be able to cause major problems, right? Wrong. My swolen one was very uncomfortable, so painful in fact that when the kittens tried to feed from it, I had to beat them up until they stopped. I'm not proud of that, but I'd asked them nicely, then told them, then smacked them when they tried, and nothing but nothing was getting through to them! My human, who keeps a check on me every day anyway, wasn't helping matters. She kept trying to plug the babies into that particular nimple all the time, telling me I'd feel better once they'd drank all the milk I'd been storing, but I was having none of it. The next day, she took me to the horrible vet lady people. Well, she's not horrible if I'm honest, but she's not our really nice vet lady people who knows everything.





The vet lady people agreed with the human, and I was diagnosed with mastitis. I wasn't happy when I heard I'd have to take stinky pills, and that my babies weren't allowed to drink from the milk bar as that was perpetuating the problem. And get this, I was supposed to survive on reduced food!





A cat's body only makes milk under two conditions; firstly that there's a demand for it, i.e, the kittens drinking at the milk bar, and secondly when the cat has enough food to sustain her own weight and to produce the required amount of milk. The reasoning was that if food was reduced, my body would go into survival mode and I'd stop the milk. The stinky tablets were to make sure that the infection, which is usually present, didn't spread anywhere else. I also got some more stinky tablets called urtica which makes milk dry up real quick.





Friends, that first day she took away my dry foods, and she only fed me one sachet of wet stinky goodness, all day! And all night! I don't know how to describe the horror of that day. Imagine your stomach being so hungry that it decides to eat itself... Literally! I could feel it gnawing away inside me. I cried at the human, but she didn't listen. I screamed at her, pawed at her, crawled on her with the last of my strength and begged. She went out. Can you believe it? She left me, at death's door, and went out! She did something even worse though. She put a huge plate of stinky goodness in with the kittens, then closed the pen so that I couldn't get at it. I could see it and I could smell it, but I couldn't eat it. Chinese water torture has nothing on this. I was sure I was going to die. I didn't even have the energy to write and beg you all for help in my hour of need.





The light began to fade, or perhaps it was evening, I don't know, and I wearily lowered my head onto my paws. As I closed my eyes, my last thought was, "Well, at least the kittens are well fed. They will survive." My heart ached for them, and so did my nimples! The pressure of the built up milk was unbearable, and I needed them to suckle, but I couldn't get at them. They howled and cried for me too, but, as I said, the light was fading. Alone, cold, hungry and no more than a skeleton, I laid myself down in front of the cage and my eyes closed for good...





A ting, ting sound intruded on my senses. Strange, I thought, for feline eutopia to be tinging. But then I realised, that was the sound of my food bowl! Oh, eutopia would feed me! I leapt up, hurtled towards the sound, and pulled up short. I was in my own kitchen, and there was the human in front of me. Immediately, all my lacitude came flowing back. I slumped pitifully at her feet, let out the faintest of miaows, and fixed my eyes on the bowl. Was it true? Was she really going to feed me? It seemed she was, but the amount she gave me was terrible. It just about took the edge off the ravenous beast that was my yummy tummy!





For three days that continued, and for three days, I teatered on the edge of death itself. There was one good point though. She bought me a clever little cat jacket which is loose enough not to restrict me, but secure enough that it covers all my nimples. That meant that I could socialise with the babies, but only when their stinky goodness was taken away. My human is too careful sometimes! The other one good point was that she phoned the vet lady people again the next morning, as my other nimples were beginning to swell. That vet lady people, a different one, told her to let the babies suckle, just not lots, as that would keep the milk flowing and make me more comfortable. With a bit of coaxing, she was able to plug a baby, Hamster I think, into the really sore nimple, and cuz she held my paws and tickled my chin and said all sorts of nice things to me the whole time he was feeding, I didn't even beat him up! Ok, perhaps I tried and she had my paws so I couldn't, but that wouldn't be so romantic, would it? I surrendered to my child, gave him life-giving flluid, even though I had little strength myself, and prayed that it would be enough. There, that's much better, isn't it? It's no lie when I tell you it really hurt though, or at least, it did until he got the flow of milk going. Then it wasn't so bad until near the end when I wanted to beat him up again. It's just as well he'd had his fill and all the milk was gone, cuz the human says that she wasn't going to keep restraining me for too much longer!






Yesterday though, everything changed. On the one hand, I'm glad, cuz I get to eat normally again. On the other though, half of me wishes that things were the way they were this time last week. Why? Cuz the kittens have been let out of the pen. While many might think this is a good thing, let me tell you, it isn't. Now they can chase me everywhere, and they're much harder to keep together too! They run in three different directions, and no sooner have I gone and got one and put them where I want them to stay, but they've run off again. I can call and call them, but of course they don't listen. I ran myself ragged yesterday, then gave up and just lay down. There was nowhere for them to go. My human has closed off the doors to the living room and has put a baby gate with a screen sewed to it over the kitchen door.





As soon as I lay down though, they all came and jumped on me and attacked my tail and bit my nose and chewed my whiskers. In frustration, I went to the top of my scratchy post, but then all they did was climb it. That made it shake, and I don't like shakey things, so I ran to the sofa instead. Well, it didn't take them long to discover that either! Now all of them can jump up on it really really well, so I'm not safe there either! No space is sacrosanct sept for the human's bed, but that's only cuz they can't get in there yet. It won't be long, I'm thinking. Help! Can anyone look after them for a bit? They're wearing me out! Now that I'm allowed to eat normally again, I'll share some stinky goodness with you Oh, and if anyone knows a humane disposal method for cruel peoples, do let me know, won't you? I'd be tempted to dice my human up into cat food for what she did. After all, it would be just desserts. But I wouldn't inflict that on other poor cats. I'm sure you'd be able to taste the evil in her, no matter how much seasoning was used!

Saturday Stuff

Yet again, it's been a while since we blogged. The human says she's feeling less driven to write lately, because we're not sure how many peoples are reading us any more. I've explained to her the fact that it's a vicious circle. If she doesn't write down my dictations every day when I give her them, peoples are going to read us less. She displays her stupidity with worrying regularity, does she not?

Well, it seems as though the competition has been a resounding flop. One cat is interested in the give away so far. To be honest, this one even took me aback. I was expecting that, like every other competition on the CB, we'd have lots of entrants.

The human and I have been thinking about this a lot over the last week, and have come to a reluctant conclusion, which we'd love to have proved wrong. It seems as though others visit blogs to look at pictures rather than to read what's written there. Wordless Wednesday is a classic example of this. Puss-Puss
also seems to be coming up against the same problems. She is one of the most wise cats I have ever come across. She studies peoples behaviour and offers insights that I, even after living with peoples for all of my life, haven't considered. Yet, since Whicky's post on the CB about her drew readers, I've been the only one to go visit her and leave comments on a regular basis. Is it coincidence that she often posts no pictures either?

My human says I'm starting to sound whiney. I resent that comment, because everybody knows that it's Dogfaces that whine, not us more sensible cats. For her sake more than yours, I'll clarify (we cats understand how it is, so I'm sorry I have to take a moment to spell it out for her slower brain). I am not saying that other peoples and cats leaving comments defines whether I will continue blogging or not. It's just that it's nice to know that writing is appreciated, that's all. I was considering having a CB event encouraging all of you to post one post which tells a story without pictures, but I tried that with my Tortureshell, and it had one participant for one week. I guess pictures are just the way to go.

Anyway, enough of my self pity. I have some exciting news. This is all very hush hush at the moment, but we could be having a celebrity guest star on here very soon, who has tentatively agreed to having a regular slot. When I say celebrity, she's a celebrity only to certain peoples, namely one Bug. You'll have to keep your eyes peeled for more information though. I'm bound to say no more until contracts have been finalised, and treat fees discussed and agreed. Oh, I hope she's not too expensive! I love my Dreamies too much to part with lots of them.

My human has the day off the work hunt today, which I'm loving. It meant we got to stay in bed much longer this morning. She's put a new blanket on there too, so it's really cosy and warm now.

We had another trip to the vet peoples yesterday. Dogface had to go for her hydro, and I needed to have a scan to see about those kittens. I decided that I would cooperate this time. It was the vet man people who saw me when I stayed in hospital. He was the one who got me better enough to go home though, so I guess he's not quite as bad as the others. I stayed nice and still for him, and even tenderised his arm a bit with my claws, to show my affection, you know? Well, I can't have him thinking I'm a totally easy patient. It gives them a false sense of their own importance, makes them think they can get away with more than they have a right to.

The worst bit about those scans is the horrible gel stuff they put on my yummy tummy. Even though this vet man people was good enough to clean most of it off, he's nowhere near as thorough as we are. They never quite manage to get it all, and I'm forced to do it myself. It tastes yucky, and feels nasty when it's on my fur. There's always something unpleasant about going to the vet, isn't there?

As it turns out, I do not have kittens in my tummy, but am continuing to produce milk. Oh, I do so love playing games with my human. It keeps my days interesting. The vet peoples say it's because my hormones are probably all over the place from when I was with my man friend. Honestly though, if you other ladycats had seen him, your hormones would be in a whirl as well. He's quite the handsome picture. Why do peoples feel the need to state the obvious? It's hardly rocket science that I'd still be thinking about him.

The Admiral
would be quite proud of me, I'm sure, for I sang my heart out both on the way there and on the way back. I did Christmas songs. I did old old favourites like Three Blind Mice, I did classical opera, and when I got really frustrated, I sang "Tia Claws are Coming to Town" right into my human's face through the bars of the PTU. In her usual thick-headed way though, she took no notice, and just asked me to be quiet. I also took no notice. The human is not to be listened to when she is in one of those "what I say goes" moods. It's not good for her to have these delusions of grandure attended to as though they were true.

So, we're back at home. Dogface is sleeping as usual, I am thinking about sleeping and the human is tippy-tapping away, for once, being a good secretary. Happy Saturday to you all, and happy winning on the competition... Hopefully.

Female Friday

Well, there's big news today... Or maybe big news. It has to do with my vet visit.

So, the human went to the work hunt as usual this morning, and she says she had a very, very busy day. She had some products arrive to show her patients, and there were lots of them which meant a lot of unpacking for her. When she got home, she was, as usual, tired. She knew she had to take me and Dogface to the vet though, so she didn't even try to go to sleep like she usually does.

She was proud of herself cuz she managed to get a sample of the fluid that was coming from my infection on a piece of gauze so that they could have a look at it and see what colour it was. When it was my turn to be looked at, the human showed them the stuff, but it had no colour! They couldn't find any lumps or bumps or anything, and everybody was very, very confused. My human had to show them the place that she could feel under the skin. Her fingers are really good at finding small places. Eventually, they managed to find a little hole in my skin, and when they touched it, the fluid came out! It was white. The vet was a bit perplexed, cuz there was nothing to indicate that I was holding fluid. She asked if I had had my ladygardenectomy, and when the human told her no, she got very excited.

She flipped me over and had a look at my, oh, the word is not one for a ladycat to say! I'll call them what my human's cousin called them when she was just a very small peoplekitten. They looked at my nimples! I say they cuz there was a nurse there too who was good at tickling me. Even though she was good at it, I didn't like them touching my nimples. My human can do that, but only cuz I trust her.

Anyway, all the other nimples were producing the same white stuff, although in lesser quantity. The vet lady people flipped me up the right way again and had a feel of my tummy. She says she could feel something hard in there that definitely wasn't a full bladder or poopoo. She said she thought I might be pregnant.

My human got all excited then too and made her voice go all high and squeaky and surprised. The vet lady people and the nurse took me off for a scan after that, but I'd had enough. I know that when they take me away from the human they're going to do horrid things to me like collect my poo and steal my furrs and my blood, so I just wriggled and wriggled and wriggled. The end result was that they couldn't tell if I had a kitten in my tummy or not. If you ask me, that's the way it should be. Don't these vet peoples thhink that a cat deserves privacy? I know the answer. When they stoop to collecting poo, they don't know the meaning of the word, let alone the concept!

They wanted to put me to sleep and do a propper scan, but the human didn't want me to go through that, not when I'm just getting over mr Bug. She says she wants me away from the vet peoples and the chance of infection because my immune system is still recovering.

So we know at least that I don't have an infection. The hole is an inverted nimple apparently, so the human can stop worrying. Now all that remains to be seen is whether or not I have a kitten in my tummy. The human is going to take me back again when Dogface goes next Friday, just to let someone else have a feel of my yummy tummy cuz by that point I will be five weeks pregnant and they will be able to tell better by feeling if I have any babies in there. She doesn't think she's gonna let them do the sleepy scan on me as long as I'm still acting as though I'm well.

She phoned the lady people who is owned by my man friend to tell her. The lady people was very surprised and says that she really doesn't think me and the man friend got, ah, friendly. I'm not saying whether we did or not. A gentle ladycat never kisses and tells! You're just going to all have to wait and see.