Pride goeth before a ruined shirt

With Mickey relatively healthy, a free, warm afternoon, and no dirty dishes in the sink, we decided it was time for a bath to remove that distinctive 'cat fart' smell from our feline friend.

You can probably guess where this is going.

Now, I have bathed cats before. I have bathed big old tom cats who were nearly as big as I was (as a kid) I have bathed frighted cats who'd never been wet before and didn't even sit on your lap by choice when they were dry. I've done it in showers, in sinks. It's not a big deal. The worst part is how pathetic they look when wet.

I do not understand the people who refuse to bathe their cats out of fear. It's almost as bad as the ones who take the cat to the vet to have it's nails clipped. Seriously? It's easier to get the cat in the carrier, and drive to the vet than it is to flip 'em over and snip their claws? Your call. Though on that note, there is *nothing funnier* than a cat who used to have sharp claws trying to jump on your lap and sliiiding back down where her claws used to grab so effectively into your bare skin.

So we caught the cat, warmed the water, cleared the area around the sink, found towels and soap, and got to work. Now, what I'd forgotten about all these trouble free previous cat bathing experiences was that all the sinks had those little sprayer attachments, meaning all you had to do was hold the cat still, and squirt away.

This one didn't. And while Mickey was a relatively good boy (for a wet cat at least) about holding still in the water, he was not too keen about being repositioned while we tried to get the faucet to spray all of him.

Which is how I ended up with a half-wet cat climbing over my shoulder.

Which is how I ripped my good work shirt (I always, always put on old clothes before, and all that had gotten on them was a lot of cat fur, but this time I was just so confident)

Which is how M ended up carrying the still half-wet and increasingly pissy cat to the bathroom to finish the job with the detachable shower head. (thank the lord for detachable showerheads)

At least he forgave us quickly, and was sleeping on my lap by bedtime (at which point I had to give him his antibiotics)

Oh, and an addendum, while cat baths normally leave clods of fur lying about, this time there was none to speak of. It could be white fur is less obvious, but I blame the furminator we recently bought. He really doesn't shed much at all now except his tail where he's not fond of being brushed. But more on that later.

kitty friends

We have now officially diagnosed Mickey as lonely. He's quite friendly and cuddly when we're around, but seems mildly distressed when we're in a different room, or sleeping, particularly. We are no good to him when we are asleep.

So he wanders the rooms, perimeters in particular, meowing quietly and plaintively. M suggested the meows sounded like a feline 'ping' (see, we really are nerds here), and he was checking to see if anyone else is around. Of course, this is all armchair psychology, on a cat no less, but he grew up with other cats around, and his brother at my parents is quite friendly with one of the cats (the other is a crotchety old hag), so it seems a valid guess.

So now the question is where to get one.

We've decided an adult would probably be better, so we could tell up front whether it was batshit crazy or not, but that a kitten isn't nearly the responsibility of a puppy, so wouldn't be a problem. Also, a female would be more likely to be a good companion than another male, though Mickey is really pretty laid back.

Somewhere, however, I developed the notion that you should never need to pay for a cat (or, in particular, go though any particular trouble, search, or application process). I suppose it's because they're so much more successfully feral than dogs are, but wait a few months, and it seems someone, somewhere, has a friendly stray they found and want to get rid of. There are always more cats than people willing to take an extra.

But I'm starting to second guess that, particularly given our predilection towards an adult. It's kitten season, so there are several litters to choose from. Right this instant I can think of four. Is giving a home to a returned kitten who's mother is still not spayed -though not being intentionally bred- ethical even if she's free? Does taking one of the feral kittens the neighbor girl found in their spot at the fairgrounds doom a perfectly nice cat in a shelter? Or since there are finite homes, would one of them have gone either way?

I'm fairly decided on that matter with dogs. It's never made sense to me the rescues that go to extravagant expense to save unhealthy, or temperamentally unfit dogs while healthier ones are still being euthanized. It seems a zero-sum game. If you take a less fit dog out of pity, or nobility or what have you, all that means is that a better one will be killed. But somehow, cats seem more fluid, as though that the rule may not apply. I don't know.

In the meantime, Mickey is lonely.

Feeding the cat.

Mickey is still a little skinny, and not eating as much as it seems he should (or perhaps the recommendations on the can are biased). He ate a bite or two of the dry when he arrived, but hasn't touched it since. He will eat the canned readily, but stops long before he finishes. He seems to like company while eating, and will eat more if you tap the bowl or move it in front of him after he wanders off, but again not as much as it says he should eat.

So, for now, we're shuffling the food back and forth between him and the fridge several times a day until he eats it. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to have a problem with the refrigerated food. The eventual goal is to get him to eat two meals a day, one dry, one wet, but we figure since he's a little thin and under the weather now, it's better to just get him to eat, and deal with schedules later. Personally, I wouldn't mind going with all canned, but M thinks that's a little much money wise.

In the interest of disclosure, the dry stuff is felidae, and the wet is innova chicken something flavor, in the large cans. We picked them out of lists recommended online, because a) that's what the store in town sold, and b) they were cheaper than some of the other options that looked pretty comparable. Not much to say on the dry stuff, but the wet does not smell nearly as terrible as I was expecting. Essentially like the canned chicken you buy for yourself. This makes the larger (and thus cheaper and less wasteful packaging-wise) cans much more reasonable, since it doesn't stink up the fridge unreasonably. I'm not fully sold on the fact that it contains apple and carrots and other non-catty things, so we may experiment with other brands later too.

Mickey arrives

(Mickey is not a dog, contrary to the title of the blog)

(or a mouse - the name is a little unfortunate, but it is what it is)

Mickey is a barn cat from M's parents house. They tend a small community of cats ranging from true wide-eyed ferals to what are probably the neighbors pets simply allowed outside. They've started working on a TNR program to get their numbers down. Mickey was part of the last litter, four years ago. At the time, we promised to take him, but lived in dorms, then rentals, and other places that frowned on pets. But this Friday was the day.

It was all surprisingly uneventful. He's always been a relaxed little loverboy, but not only did he sleep on my lap for over an hour on the ride back, but let me clip his nails right there in the car without any fuss whatsoever. I was not expecting that from a cat used to being on his own devices for four years.

One of the side effects of being in the great outdoors is he has a bit of a head cold, or sinus infection, or otherwise nasty snotty nose that he likes to rub cat boogers on you with. Pretty much all the cats there had this to varying degrees. The kittens got antibiotics for it when they were small, which cleared it up, but the caught it right back again. Apparently, this sort of thing can be hard to squash in cats, but we're hoping for the best, that it really was a cold that kept getting passed back and forth ad infinitum, rather than a true chronic sinus problem.

Oh yes, and while tolerant of most things, he *does not like* the antibiotic (liquid in a dropper). Touching the face is not looked kindly upon. It does seem to be working so far though. The first day was terrible. He was groggy from the vaccinations, and the snot turned from a little pale yellow, to a lot of dark brown - almost a dark red or orange color. (sorry for the t.m.i.). I guess that must have been the root infection draining, because things got dramatically better by Sunday. It's not 100% gone, but he is no longer disgusting, wheezy and sad.

Holding pattern

I realized I posted this on my other blogs, but not here. We bought a 100 year old farmhouse (with over two acres of prime fenceable land!) back in December, and are slowly diy converting it to a habitable residence. Slow, diy house renovation doesn't leave much time for daydreaming about future dogs, so this blog is in a bit of a holding pattern until we actually live in our house, as opposed to just work there. I do still get notifications of comments, so if you got here from a comment I made somewhere, I'll still see your response.
If you're insatiably curious about how we're coming (hint: we thought we'd be moved in by February) you could check at my house blog, which I'm doing my darndest to update when I can.

A House!

After 6 months of searching (and testimonials from our real estate agent *and* our lawyer, that they'd never seen anyone with worse luck).

We have a house.

Mostly.

The good news is, it is great for us, it's incredubly cute, with good space, and even better, it's on almost three acres of rural 'you could raise emus here and nobody would look at you funny - a fence and a big dog is nothing' land.

The bad news? We gotta rip up and replace nearly 100 years of nasty flooring and wallpaper before we can move in, much less start getting pets.

So, for now, the plan is work our butts off over the holidays (coincidentally, most of our family is out of town for the holidays this year, so we may well be painting over christmas) and move in sometime late January. At that point, find a vet and bring up 'our cat' from the barn cats at M's parents. Then start dog-shopping again.

A bit of the problem in that the backyard is both a) a mud pit from the rather slap-dash job they did replacing the septic tank (did I mention our bad luck?) and b) frozen solid. Which kinda precludes putting in a fence until spring. But, if past experience is any guide, it'll probably take us that long to find a match anyway.

See you in two months!

what we want

So, with a lot of time not being able to get a dog, we've come up with a pretty through group of what we're looking for in a dog.

- It needs to be low energy. We both work full time. For now, that's not negotiable. The dog will have to be ok with two long walks a day and evening yard play/training. Unfortunately, this rules out huskys, gorgeous as they are.

- It needs to get along with other animals. Dogs and cats. The plan is to have multiple pets.

- We want a big dog. This is getting in to preference. There's no real logic behind this one other than preference. The obvious question is 'how big?' well, no smaller than a border collie - and we've considered great danes.

- We plan to do a lot of training. Not formal obedience, just establishing a (very very by today's standards it seems) good rapport and solid boundaries. I'll probably go into a lot more detail about this later. This is more of an individual dog thing. Alert attention to people is important, but not necessarily slavish retriever-style desire to please above all else.

- We want a dignified, confident dog. This was a little surprising to us, but after meeting with a lot of dogs (the first time we thought we'd be able to get one soon) we both observed that we were turned off by 'asking for belly rubs' or other playful/submissive behavior. Again, not really logical, just preference.

- We want a friendly dog. I mean, heck, we should pick one that likes us back, right? While belly-rubs was a turn-off, behaviors like licking hands, or leaning against you were positives. Also would probably help with that 'training' thing above.

Where did this get us? Well, it tended to point to breeds that were traditionally 'stock guarding dogs' send 'em out in the pasture to keep the wolves away.
They mostly hang out and sit all day, plus they had to be calm enough not to freak out the sheep, so low energy. They tend to be big.
Unfortunately, the dogs that used to be 'stock guarding dogs' are now often considered 'vicious breeds'.
Our leader right now is an Akita. We're also considering Great Danes, Chows, German Shepherds, Rottweilers, Newfoundlands and any sort of mix that happens to work out right.

p.s. a bit of a consequence of the above, we want an adult dog, probably at least a year old. Mostly this is due to #1: we're not going to be home to entertain/housebreak a puppy as diligently as we think we need to. But also, with all our emphasis on personality, it'd be good to see what we're gonna get a little better.