Open House

So things are a little hamster-centric around here lately.

Deal with it.

Ha ha kidding. But seriously... I do have a tinge of hamstermania at the moment. Getting to know my new hamster Angelina has been a trip, and has brought back memories.

When I was a kid I wanted nothing. more. than. a. HAMSTER! It was all I dreamed about.

And then, one birthday, I got one.

Here is a pic of me, all pretty in pink for my b-day shenanigans. I remember being extra excited that day as I was allowed to put on some blush for the first time ever. Yeah it was a little on the Baby Jane side. That's ok. I rocked it.

And so what! I had A HAMSTER!!



A sweet, soft, adorable hamster all my own. I would love it, and it would love me, and we would have lovely tea parties and it would travel around in my pocket and I would just snuggle it and cuddle it and pet it's fluffy little furs forever and ever.

Oh, it was all going to be glorious.

But alas, this hamster fairytale was not to be.

From what I recall, this man-eating hamster tried to devour a chunk out of my finger pretty much the very first time I touched it, savagely ripping into my flesh with it's razor-sharp hamster fangs and drawing blood. I cried and cried.

And thus my prior opinion of hamsters can be summed up in this classic little ditty here.

I never had a hamster again.

Until now!

As you guys know I was recently persuaded to adopt a very cute and wee little dwarf hamster, and have been getting to know her. Though I do still feel a little bit of (skin-crawling, paralyzing) fear when she gets near my (soft, bite-able) fingers, things have been going ok so far.

And in our most recent chapter of this new hamster journey, may I present to you... Angelina's new bachelorette pad.

Ta da:



And what a pad it is... everything a lil hamster could want in a pimped out hammie house, and it's all hers.

The elevated wheel not only spins, but spins around a track so that she can get that much-needed exercise. Did you know that hamsters run up to 5 miles per day? True.

(she also got a new exercise ball)

It's also got a groovy spiral slide. And a nice upstairs 'dining room' that I can easily access to hand feed/spoil her with treats and snacks. And seeds. And stuff.

Whilst hoping that she does not viciously sink her killer teeth into my fingers.



Ok now this is where hamsters have always gotten me- the facial expressions.

OMG.

Here, she was tearing up some soft new bedding to go inside of her little purple sleepy-den. Nothin is cuter than a hamster with it's cheeks stuffed full, d'aww.




Also, note that ridiculously cute teeny broom. No, she does not use it for cleaning her cage (as if!) And no, she is not an itty bitty witch and does not use it for transportation (ok, Ken? :P) It's for chewin'. And/or chawin'.

Hope that you enjoy your new house, Angelina!

All photographs copyright Heather Shade

Angelina's pasta dinner

"Hmmm.... what is this here?"

*nose wiggle*





"Sniffsniff.... nibble........ hey... this pasta stuff is pretty deelish!"




Angelina loves pasta!

"Om nom nom nom nom nom nom....."




All photographs copyright Heather Shade

Angelina, you dirty little hamster

Allow me to introduce you all to the newest member of our family.

Meet Angelina...




Angelina is a Winter White hamster.

Also known as a Djungarian hamster, Dzungarian dwarf hamster, Siberian hamster, or Sapphire Winter White Russian dwarf hamster... whew, that a lotta names for something so little!

As for her name-name... Angelina... well.... I am a big Jersey Shore fan.

There! I said it! And I am not ashamed!

OK, maybe a little ashamed.





Moving on.

So I was at Petsmart getting some supplies for my aquarium when a very evil, evil employee told me that they had a very cute hamster up for adoption. For free. And that said cute hamster needed a good home.

I tried to counter my inner squealing 10 year old by reminding myself that I had nowhere to put a hamster. And then I remembered that I had an empty aquarium. Dammit!

Then he brought her out, and showed her to me...




And ZOMG, she was too cute to resist.

I mean, seriously? Look at her.

So I ended up with a new hammonster.




I like how she looks like she is going 'nyah nyah nyah'... all sinister, like Snidely Whiplash, in this shot.

Since I can't afford to get her a proper habitat til next month, she has a ghetto little home right now... an old aquarium held closed with a bungee cord, with dollar store bowls modified into a wee 'house', and some toilet paper tubes. Heh heh. She seems to be ok with it.

When I can afford to, I am going to hook her up with a great little bachelorette pad.





Angelina hadn't been handled much by humans, so I started out with a glove. Because hamsters ARE SCARY!

"That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!!"

Heh heh.

But she has been ok with it so far. She's still a bit scared & nervous, and she has harmlessly nibbled me a few times, more of a curious-exploration-type nibble. She has allowed me to hand feed her, and to pick her up bare-handed...





...aaaannnnd of course, she has also pooped on me half a dozen times (thanks, hammie!)

Fortunately, hamster poops are teeny, smaller than a grain of rice, and thus not too gross.

I have become way too familiar with hamster poops this week.





Though I never anticipated that I would become a hamster-owner, here we are. I love watching her and I think she is adorable. Those sweet, beady black eyes! That stripedy fluff!

Those itsy-bitsy little pink hamster 'hands' wringing each other!

I die.

We are happy to welcome Miss Angelina to our crazy, motley familia. And we all look forward to getting to know her better, and to getting closer to her.

Some of us more than others...

No, kitty, NO!!



All photographs copyright Heather Shade

introducing the fabulous & amazing desert pirate dog

So I'm sure it will come as no surprise to most everybody that I ended up keeping the scruffy little ratdog known as Minx that I was fostering back in January. Yeah, I couldn't help it.

Well?? Look at that face!!



The Minx became a really important part of our motley little family very quickly; she's lovable and kinda crazy- so she fits right in. As she has gotten more acclimated to her new home her weird, funny personality has been emerging. She of course still has a doggy-sisterly relationship with Mia- she had that right away- but even cuter is how she has gotten to the cat. The cat loves her! It is seriously adorable.




One of the best things about Minxie is how she has shown herself to be a true desert pirate dog- look what she does! This is not something anyone taught her- she will just jump onto/perch on your shoulders like a wannabe parrot, it's hyterical. Weird dog!




I really love this little freak. She has wiggled her way into my heart and she's there to stay. I think it's safe to say the feeling is mutual...




...right, Minx? ♥

Minxed!

So I got myself into another foster situation (this year so far I have fostered & found homes for 2 stray cats and one wayward turtle)... this time it was 2 little dogs- a snow white poodle & a jet black terrier- whom my uncle found wandering near an intersection together, lost, dirty & hungry. The poodle was obviously boss lady, with the little terrier shadowing her every move, which was cartoonishly cute. Both dogs had (dirty grimy) sweaters on, but had no collars, tags, or microchips to identify them, so we ran ads in the paper and alerted all the vet clinics in the area. No one claimed them.

The poodle was eventually adopted by a friend of my aunt's and is reportedly doing great in her new home, with new friends both canine & human. The little terrier is still here with me, however, and I have a sneaking feeling that I'm being slowly but surely seduced by the pint sized thing.

Because of her feisty personality I began calling her The Minx, and it sorta stuck. And this is The Minx (chillin' here w my chihuahua Mia):



Check out those ears! The vet said that Minx is about 10 months old and is most likely full grown, which is funny because this dog is practically pocket-sized. I've always thought my chihuahua Mia was tiny, but this pooch makes her look like a big dawg. They are close in age- both still in puppy mode- so they've been tearing shit up like trashed rock stars in a fancy hotel together. Ah, puppies.




My sis-in-law thinks they look like peanut butter & chocolate- so I guess that together, they combine to make an adorable canine version of a Reese's PB Cup..?



So what to do with this insanely-cute, Muppetlike little creature? I think she wants to stay- she sure seems to have become at home here, she's even made friends with the cat.

And every time I think about finding her a home, she gives me those heartbreaking puppy eyes (see image above, doh)... it's like she knooooooows and she is saying 'pleaseplease let me stay, lady'!

We shall see, puppy, we shall see...

ad astra per aspera

Yesterday I got a new tattoo (oh I love new ink), and, here 'tis.

It's a tribute to my babydog Dearly, who passed away last week. But it's also in memory of all of the pets that I have loved & lost so far in my lifetime... Nico, Tiger, Quiche, Radar, Rasta & Piewicket... 7 in all, and a star for each one...



I will add another star for every future pet as well as time goes on. I wanted something old-skool simple and symbolic- like stars- and something that could be added to, but wasn't sure what exactly beyond that... my tattooist Francella (@ Sinister Pleasures here in EPTX) hooked me up with the idea for the stars to trail from ankle to foot, and it was a fab idea, I love the way it turned out, she did a stellar job as usual.

So in addition to being sentimental, it's also cute... good good. I really like that there is a tiny star in there too, because to me, that one is especially for Piewicket, who was just a tiny baby kitten (we had just 1 month together but I adored little Pie) when a stupid dog mauled and killed the poor thing.

I can't wait til it heals. On a side note, damn does it hurt to get tattooed on the foot.

Dearly, departed

This past Saturday night, my much-adored dog Dearly died in my arms.

I haven't been able to write about it because I have been heartbroken... well, I am still crushed. But I want to leave a memorial here for my beautiful Dearly-dog. So I'll do my best. Forgive me if I'm still a bit um, overwrought...




Back in July when Dearly mysteriously went blind overnight, the vet warned me that there might be underlying problems that she couldn't really diagnose or reverse. One possibility for the blindness was a brain tumor or some sort of aneurysm (they can't diagnose those things by x-ray because of the skull, it would take an MRI which costs approx $1500-2000 and can't even be done locally)... and these things, even if they could identify them.... they couldn't have done anything about them. The best (and only) thing we could do was to take Dearly home and to try to keep her happy and help her manage with the blindness, and if she started becoming sick or distressed take her back to the vet. And thus we have been since July... Dearly actually adjusted to her loss of sight quickly, like a champ, and she'd been her sweet lovable self ever since.

Then for a few days last week she didn't seem to want to eat as much as usual. But she was still her regular happy self, seemed ok in every other way, so I got some different dog food (thinking maybe she just didn't like the other) and kept an eye on her... and she actually seemed to feel a little better. Then this past Saturday night she suddenly started acting sick again, and vomited once. After that she became really lethargic, she almost seemed like she was drugged... could barely stand, seemed drowsy. I laid her down on her pillow and her nose and lips were icy-cold. I covered her up in blankets and me and my cousin took turns holding her for awhile... she warmed up a bit but she never regained alertness, she was just limp in our arms, and very quiet.

A few hours later, she was back on her pillow and I was on the floor beside her petting her when she suddenly stood up and staggered onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her body meaning to hold her when she made a little coughing sound and went limp in my arms. At that exact moment I felt her heart stop beating against my hand, which was cradling her under her chest, she was still standing in my lap but she was... gone. Her head went heavy onto my chest and her breath sighed once and she was gone in my arms. Just like that.

The horrible feeling that opened up in my chest at that moment just won't seem to go away. I know her prognosis wasn't too great 6 months ago but I still for some reason cannot believe she is gone. Ever since I rescued her from a cemetery death-trap years ago, Dearly has been my literal shadow... trailing closely by my side every single time I moved, and I am not exaggerating. So her absence, and the silence when I walk (I can't get used to not hearing that tickticktick of her nails against the floor)... it's just overwhelming me still.

She was really special to me and I hope her spirit is somehow still trailing me even now... because I just can't bear to think she's gone. Goodnight, Dearly-dog... I love you very much mama. I know I'll see you again someday.

RIP Dearly D. Parted

my cat = alarm clock kitteh!

Oh my lordy my cat is famous!

Today while randomly surfing icanhascheezburger.com I found a picture of MY cat, look here!
I heart lolcats, and that is the best site for them on teh interwebs, so I am actually pretty flattered... and of course I have to give props to my model-slash-crazy-cat Bela...

This is my original image:




Here is one more from the flying cat series:




Yep Bela is a little insane.
And no.... no kittehs were harmed in the making of this photo! Bela is a ninjacat and will climb onto & jump off of anything and everything he can. And these shots involved the use of a laser pointer, a tripod, a LOT of patience, the assistance of my best friend, and maybe a little catnip. Heh heh. It took about 50 tries to actually get anything other than a blurred gray streak, and these were the only two shots that actually came out ok... but so worth it lol.

Anyway, more of my Bela pics here if you are interested.

merde!

So I am sitting here relieved and frankly, kinda pissed. I just went through an awful 3 days preparing for the death of my 14 year old dog Courtney. Only to find out that she has a severe case of...... constipation. Constipation!! Yep.



This is the Courtster (hanging with her kitty friend Sabre) She's a supersweet, lovable Spaniel mix who I have had since she was a wee pup. This dog was given to me just after my Mom's sudden death 14 years ago, at a time when I was so overwhelmed with grief that I could not eat, sleep, or even speak. At the time I couldn't even summon the strength to care enough to take care of myself. Watching my Mom's terrible death had left me shell-shocked and lost. But then someone handed me this needy, homeless baby puppy and I looked at those brown eyes, and had no choice but to love her. I took her in. And then I had this little life to take care of, and it helped me to survive that horrible time. It channeled my energy and pulled me out of my fog of grief.



This is an old pic, I've had her such a long time! This was me & my chubby puppy maybe 10 years ago?

Anyway. Last weekend, Courtney seemed to be having a bit of a problem with dropping the kids off at the pool. She couldn't launch a sub, couldn't chuck the football. You know, she just could not um..... well it rhymes with 'make a spit'. So I took her to the vet on Monday because she has had this problem in the past and it's usually an easy fix (you want no more detail than that, trust me) So I told the doc what her history was, thinking he'd do the usual fix (which rhymes with schmenema) Instead, he ignores me completely and orders a round of (expensive) x-rays & blood tests.

After the tests he brings me back into the x-ray suite, and shows me her x-ray. He says that there is a huge mass in her belly area, and that it was NOT there a month & a half ago (when she had to have an emergency surgery) And he says because it's so big, and has grown so fast, he's pretty sure it's cancer, and that the 'prognosis is very, very poor' He says that due to the 'deadly cancer' and her old age, his advice is to just go ahead and put her down right away. Well, I'm never one to give up on my babies so easily (yeah you guys know that by now right? Haha) So I say what are the alternatives. He says a very risky $300 exploratory surgery. I say, can't we try an enema or some other treatment first, since you're not even sure WHAT the 'mass' could be? And then maybe do a second round of x-rays? He says no, it won't do any good. He has to put her on an IV for 2 days and then do the surgery. And he assures me that he really does not expect her to survive this.

So I try to prepare myself.
I left her there and went home crying. I went back yesterday to say 'goodbye' to her... sitting on the floor on front of her cage and curling my fingers through the bars while she whined and touched my hands with her paws. I told her how much I love her and that she will always be my babydog. Because of the IV and stuff I couldn't even open the cage to hold or pet her. It was excruciating. So I tried to make my peace and leave her with some love. Again, I came home crying.

Today was surgery day. I had tossed & turned all night long, feeling sick to my stomach. The hours passed by so slowly. Finally the news came of Courtney's surgery.

And guess what.

They opened the poor girl up, put her 14 year old body through all of that surgical stress, and found nothing. No tumor, no cancer, nothing whatsoever other than a badly constipated canine.

Now, as relieved as I am to know that she doesn't have some awful deadly cancer, I am also pissed, because had the vet just listened to me I'm betting they would not have seen a 'mass' in her belly. Now she has to go through a long recovery process from the needless surgery. In my (humble) opinion, they should have tried an enema first, then an x-ray... they might have seen that that 'mass' had um, moved along after the enema. Have they never heard of the scientific principle of Occam's razor, for pete's sake??! (Occam's razor= 'All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best'... I am not a doctor but I do watch one on House! :P)

Now they suspect that maybe the mass was food that couldn't pass into the intestines. DUH. I wish they would have listened to me, we could have avoided all the stress, trauma, surgery, and oh yes the almost $400 vet bill!!

Anyway... *deep breaths*... at least she is ok. I am thankful for that. I know she's 14 and she's not gonna live forever, but thank goodness I did not listen to them on Monday and just 'put her down' Can you imagine- I would have put my dog to sleep for being constipated. And that is scary stuff.

And PS I never ever expected to blog the word 'enema' so many times- let alone ever- in my blog, lol. I will most likely get some um interesting search results as a consequence ha ha hahaha.....

the bitch is back

Welcome home, Wicca, you baaad dog, you!



Here is the little runaway shortly after she got back home from her grand adventure. She looks pretty happy to be home, no? Note the wagging tail :P

They told us that she was wandering the streets in northeast El Paso when she was picked up by Animal Control. That's reallllllly far from where we live- she never could have just walked there on her own- so now I know without a doubt that someone took her (and shame on them for not trying to find her owners, she is microchipped so it would have been really easy to find us... freakin' dog thieves!) I am betting that she escaped from wherever she was (she's a master escape artist, we had to Wicca-proof our yard long ago) and that's how she was found on the streets. So booya to the dog stealers. She was clean and well-fed, so I'm sure somebody had her for most of the time she was gone.

I am just happy to have the little scoundrel back home :)

hot diggity dawg!

I don't know what happened to swing my luck around, but since the day we (oh-so-luckily) found my mobile home, things have been looking up, and my bad luck has seemed to be slowly turning to the good...

Case in point: WE FOUND OUR RUNAWAY DOG!!!
Yes, for those of you who have been following the saga- the missing Wicca has been found! I am so happy I could do back flips. Well, ok maybe not back flips. How about a Peanut Butter Jelly Time dance. I am so happy I could do a Peanut Butter Jelly Time dance. And Hell I just might!





To recap: this is Wicca. She was my sister's dog, and since my sister's murder, we have had her here at my Gramma's house (where I have been staying), and I've been taking care of her. It has meant a lot to me to have my sister's dog, because taking care of Wicca (and also Haley's cat Moofi) is pretty much the only thing I can still do for Haley.

Well, a little over a month ago, someone (no not me, heh) accidentally let Wicca out of the back yard one night, and she took off running like a big, spotted, 4-legged bat out of Hell... and had been missing ever since.

I have been heartsick over it.

I've spent almost every day since then putting up Lost Dog fliers, and calling the shelters, and checking the papers... all to no avail. No sign of Wicca was to be found.

I have been even more stressed over the fact that Wicca has seizures (apparently, it's pretty common with certain full-breds, like Dalmations) and, if you don't know how to care for a seizure-prone dog, they can die. For one thing, you can never leave them unattended on a leash (they can get strangled if they seize while leashed) Also, the seizures are pretty violent, and can go on for over an hour without proper medication being given, and the dog is totally helpless during the seizure... they can even break bones or choke on their tongues. So... the thought of Wicca being out there somewhere, and having the potential to seize and no one to help her, has been TORMENTING me. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind, even though, after a month+ I admit my hopes of ever seeing her again had faded to almost nothing.

And then, just an hour ago, I got a call from my Dad. He had just gotten home (yeah at 2 a.m., he's a musician what do you expect heh)... and he found a note from Animal Control taped to his front door, saying that they have found Wicca, and that they have her at the shelter! We dunno yet how she got to the shelter (did they pick her up on the streets? Did someone turn her in? We don't know), but she was identified at the shelter when they scanned her and found her microchip! And we can pick her up on Monday morning!!

Oh, happy day! Wicca! Yay!

So... whatever I owe my new found good luck to, thank you.... Fates... I will do my best to keep deserving it. Finding this dog again means the world to me. It means I can keep a promise that I made to my little sister, and yeah that means the world to me.

Now, if only dogs could talk. I mean, where the Hell has she been this last month, what adventures has she gotten herself into??! I guess we'll never know!

All I know is I am so happy to have her back... *grin*

my Dear

It's been awhile since I updated you guys on my life. There is good reason.

For the past week my nights & my days have been consumed with caring for my dog Dearly. Last Sunday I woke up baffled to find that she had gone completely blind overnight.
Yes, blind. Overnight.



Dearly performs an operatic aria cause that's how she rolls

Dearly is a rescue dog. I was photographing a remote desert cemetery one day about 3 years ago, and I found her there. In many of the older cemeteries around here, the graves have been surrounded by 'fences' of chain link (like this) It was on top of a grave, inside one of these 'fences', that I found the most pathetic, starved little creature- and the gate was purposely secured from the outside with a piece of wire. Pissed me off enormously that someone would do something like that to an animal! She had been trapped inside for many days without any food or water and she was near death. She was starved, dehydrated, she had mange, half of her fur was missing, and she had so many cuts and wounds they were uncountable. She had been trying to dig or squeeze her way out under the chain link, and she had dozens of cuts and scrapes to her head & face as a result. She was in extremely bad shape.

This is how she looked after a week of careful care, you can imagine what she looked like when I originally found her:



I brought her home and named her Dearly (as in Dearly D. Parted, in ode to where she was discovered) and with a lot of love and hard work, I nursed her back to health. I wasn't planning to keep her- I thought maybe I'd foster her til she recovered, then adopt her out- but none of the no-kill shelters would take her because she was a 'wild' stray, and I didn't have the heart to send her to the pound (and probable death) after she'd come through so much. So, I kept her.

And this is how Dearly looks today:



Dearly likes hanging around with the newest addition to our fuzzy family, little Mia.

Dearly has always been very timid, and fearful of her own shadow, despite much coaxing from me. But when Mia came to join us at the beginning of this year, Dearly made friends with her and opened up in a whole new way- letting go of her timidity and suddenly tearing through the house, tumbling & playing with Mia without fear. It's like Mia brought out the puppy in her again. It's been wonderful to watch.

Then, disaster strikes- Dearly wakes up last Sunday with absolutely no sight. I first noticed that she seemed disoriented, and when I called to her, she tried to come to me but walked right into the bed. I could tell right away that she couldn't see anything. The more I checked her out the more obvious it was that she was blind.

We got her to the vet and they ran every test they could on her, thinking that they'd find some brain tumor, or neurological issue, or something dreadful like that. Instead, they found absolutely nothing, no reason whatsoever for the instant blindness. However, they did supposedly find that she had a low red blood cell count, and told us that they think she has something called aplastic anemia, a blood disease which is terminal.

Devastating news, especially considering that I just lost my kittycat Nico so recently.

The bizarre thing is that the anemia seems to have nothing to do with the blindness- they said they have no conclusive idea as to why she has gone blind. There is something called SARDs that can cause overnight blindness in dogs, but they didn't know whether or not that had anything to do with it. They sent her home with antibiotics on the off chance that she had a low-grade infection that they couldn't detect, and told us to bring her back in a week to check the progress. There's nothing they can do about her blindness, and there's nothing they can do about the anemia if she does indeed have it. Right now I am in wait-and-see mode, and suddenly have a blind dog to look after. It's been heartbreaking to watch her fear and confusion and to not be able to do a thing about it.

I'm trying to do all I can to take care of her the best I can. I sprayed perfume on all the corners, doorways, and furniture so she would have scent points to guide her (watching her blindly bump into things was so awful, I had to try something) And I've been talking to her a lot, guiding her around by having her follow my voice (and sometimes with a milkbone in my pocket for extra incentive)... and by using her nose & her ears she has been learning how to find her way. I've also been singing to her a lot too, for some reason she seems to really like that. And strangely, she's become a bit braver through all of this, using a confidence that I'd never seen in her before. She is adjusting, as dogs do.

I don't know what is going to happen. My mind has not had a break from worry as far as my pets go... two months ago all of our cats came down with a virulent respiratory infection that could have killed them, and let me tell you something, you think giving a cat medicine sucks, you should try it with several cats, several times a day! My arms looked like cat-scratch road maps for a few weeks. Then, last month my other dog, Courtney, woke up sick as Hell one morning and ended up in surgery a few hours later having an emergency hysterectomy. She very nearly lost her life that day and required some constant nursing on my part for a few weeks (she got her stitches out last week and has recovered nicely) Then while that was happening, Nico got sick and had to be put to sleep. And now this with Dearly. Oi.

Whatever happens, I will take care of her the best I can. I had a one-eyed blind dog once before (though much different, because she went blind gradually over a long period) so I do know what to expect in some senses. And I'll give her heaps of love no matter what happens. As for the future, we'll just have to meet it when we come to it. We'll see.

RIP kitty princess

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to a beloved & loyal friend of 18 years, my beautiful kitty Nico. I had to make that totally hard and crappy decision to have her put to sleep. Her liver had shut down due to old age, she had stopped eating, and there was just nothing more that could be done for her other than to spare her any more pain. Still I absolutely hated to have to make that decision. I miss her. I keep forgetting and looking around the corner into her basket but her basket is empty. A little piece of my heart is gone for sure. I'm trying to deal, and trying to focus on what a great f**king cat she was, and all the good memories I have of her....

Like how I rescued her from a dangerous alley behind our house when I was only 17... like how she was a wild little thing but she came right up into my hands with perfect trust... like how she was such a fluffy, funny, lively, curious, fearless little kitten...




...and how she grew up into such a gorgeous cat:




Nico was a total character. Everyone that knew her found her adorable. She loved baskets, she was a wicker fiend. One of her nicknames was 'Basket Case'. Another one of her nicknames was SataNico. You can see an example of the reason for both nicknames in the following photo:




She was a photographer's dream- an awesome cat model. She had such total attitude, yet posed for so many funny photos! She was also a rebel, a real rebel. Well, most cats are rebels I know, but Nico was a rebel among rebels, a hardcore cat...




She was just so beautiful. Her green eyes were insane... she had what we would call the Godzilla Stare, and she could look right through you with that shit. Nico was always independent. She loved her humans- the privileged chosen- and often hopped up on a lap, pushing her head insistently into her target's hand until she got got petted (or she'd just pet herself with the hand, either way!), but she didn't have much use for other animals...




You'd usually find her off on her own somewhere, bathing in the sun or sleeping in something basket-y. She had a very elegant air about her, and a slinky-cat walk. The fur on the back of her legs puffed up and out halfway down like a little frilly, froofy white pair of pantaloons and she walked with her tail pointed straight up above the fur 'knickers'... people used to laugh whenever they saw her walking away, couldn't help it... so funny looking with her fuzzy 'pants', Hell another one of her nicknames was 'Pants' heh...




Nico was an exceptionally healthy kitty for 99.9% of her long and amazing life. Only in the last couple of years had she started to look more like an old kitty, and she started sleeping a lot more, and even- *gasp*- started tolerating a few of her fellow house pets. Sometimes she even let Mia lie close to her while she slept- maybe she just liked the chihuahua body heat easing the ache of her old bones, or maybe she was mellowing out. Nico got sick with a serious feline respiratory infection a few months ago- it was going around El Paso, all of my cats got it in fact- and they told me then that Nico wouldn't survive it. She almost didn't. But with a lot of work on her part, and ours, she pulled though and was more Nico than ever. The past few months with her were great, she even started sleeping on my bed again and hanging out more than usual. She'd to climb up into my lap and curl into a purring ball as I sat at my computer, sometimes pushing my hands away from the keyboard to get herself a good petting or a scratch or two.




Then, last week, I woke up one day to find that Nico's skin had a yellowish tint... and the vet confirmed that it was liver failure, probably just due to age. We decided to give her a fighting chance anyway, putting her on some antibiotics on the off chance that it was just an infection (though the vet prepared us by telling us she doubted it) She seemed to be doing ok at first but gradually I could see that all the fight had just gone out of her, and she was just exhausted. She couldn't eat and was very weak. I couldn't watch her suffer any longer and had to make the decision I had been dreading all along.




Yesterday, we said goodbye to Nico, kitty princess and beloved kittycat, and she left the world a lady to the end. I miss her terribly. But I wouldn't trade it for the world, Hell no- this pain sucks but it was so worth the 18 years of love and friendship she gave to me. She had an attitude & a half- I used to say 'she's French', heheh, and she was named for the Velvet Underground's German chanteuese Nico, but it wasn't til years later that I learned that 'neko' is Japanese for 'cat', which was pretty cool too. She was a fussy eater but she loved french fries. Her personality always reminded me of that cat that PePe Le Pew always sexually harassed in his cartoons, heh. She was an awesome cat, funny and unique and loyal and beautiful. I never imagined a life without her.

Rest in peace, Miss Kitty. I love you, fuzzy girl.

the great kitten rescue extravaganza

So this wee abandoned little kitten had been creeping around my neighborhood for a few days, crying it's fluffy heart out. And I kept trying to go out there and approach it, but the tiny dood was so terrified that he'd stay across the street from me at all times, just standing there, shivering & crying. It was too sad. This kitty didn't stand a chance in our notoriously cat-danger-filled area- dangerous Montana Street traffic... free-roaming pitbulls... crazy-mean old tomcats... and even a cat-poisoning neighbor... kittens don't last long here, sadly. So I knew I had to rescue the kitteh or he had a slim chance at survival.

He eluded me for a whole frustrating day. No amount of coaxing would let me get near him. I'd approach, he'd run away, I'd go back inside and soon would hear him crying outside my window again, I'd go back outside, repeat cycle.

Then I realized we had a can of tuna. Lightbulb! I went across the street and from there, left stinky dollops of tuna leading back to my yard like a fishy E.T. Reese's Pieces trail. Keep in mind I was doing this at about 1:30 in the morning, it's a wonder I didn't get carted away to the mental ward. Again. Haha. It worked- he came right into the yard, but then he still wouldn't come within arm's reach. At least he was getting closer. This went on for awhile... until I ran out of tuna and he ran off again. I was beginning to feel like the guy in I Am Legend (the book not the Will Smith flick), in that part with the stray dog. Frustration!

A little later in the night, I heard the dalmation out back barking it's monster head off. Immediately I thought uhoh, and hustled outside to find- yep- the none other than the orphan kitten... cornered by the gigantic houndzilla. Somehow, I had to move fast with Spideylike skills and grab the little guy, pluck him into the air and away from the dog drooling/barking an inch from his face, and get him inside... so I just went for it! And got myself gouged by the freaked-out kitten like 3-4 times in the process.

So I took him inside, and (after cleaning up all the blood- mine that is, ha) I fed him, gave him water, and cleaned him up. And he was ADORABLE... fluffy white with big blue eyes and fitting right in the palm of my hand. He even calmed down pretty quickly. I could tell right away that he was a really mellow, sweet cat. I had him purring within 5 minutes. But I couldn't keep the little bugger... so I used the power of Myspace and sent out a bulletin about the orphaned kitty...





















In an answer to my wishes, quickly I got a message from a friend whose brother might be interested, and, it turned out, WAS interested in adopting the kitteh cat. Yay!

So I dropped him off at his new home this afternoon, and he has an awesome new family. Total cat people, and I can tell that kinda stuff *wink* He seemed to dig them right away, too... burying his face in their cat's food right away without shame, and later cuddling up and making muffins in their arms. And best of all he was a birthday gift for a very adorable little girl, showing that sometimes, timing really is everything.

Tonight it's quiet outside, no pitiful kitten cries in the air, and that makes me smile. Bigtime.