My latest posts haven’t been all that fun or silly and I have been wanting to lighten the mood a bit, so I think we will get in the TARDIS and go to 1985, only not with Michael J. Fox, but with me and Peachy.
This is me and Peachy when we first got her. I’m 7, almost 8 and Peachy is about 3 months.
My mom found an ad in the paper for kittens. We were suppose to only get a kitten for me, but when we got there, there was another one. Peachy’s brother, Bud. So needless to say, I got Peachy and mom got Bud. I don’t exactly remember what happened to Bud. He may have run away or he died mysteriously, but he didn’t stay long with us. One thing I remember about Bud was his nasty smelling farts. They were so bad that even he would leave the room. But Peachy... well, she was... interesting. While she was still a young little fluffy kitten, she decided to climb up the ironing board that was standing up in the garage. It fell over, and she with it. She hit the concrete floor so hard she got a concussion. She couldn’t walk straight for two days afterward. And ever since then, she was never the same. I can only conclude that it was not just a simple concussion but brain damage as well. She would drool when you pet her. She would suck on your toes. Really! She never really grew out of her kitten phase in that she would knead (I know normal cats do this too) but she wouldn’t just knead, she tried to nurse, hence the sucking on your toes thing. She was sort of slow, I wouldn’t say stupid, but she was kind of like Forest Gump, only in cat form. She also became allergic to herself (her own fur). She would scratch herself so much that her fur would come out. We had to take her to the vet every year for shots so she wouldn’t do that. She also sneezed all the time. Which I also associate with her being allergic to herself.
She had so many things going against her. But she was such a loving cat. She was beautiful. And I think she had a pretty good life. I would get frustrated with her at times because I didn’t want to have wet spots all over my clothes from the drool and get sneezed on or have my toes sucked on, and I would push her away. But she always came back and I always gave her some loving.
I eventually had to make that hard decision in High School. She had gone into kidney failure and she was suffering. The Veterinarian asked if I wanted to see her before she gave her the last shot of her life. I said no. I couldn’t do it. It is one thing I regret. I didn’t say goodbye to her. I cried all the way home. I buried her up on the bank in the backyard where I thought she would like to be. As far as I know, she is still there. We had quite the pet cemetery back there. Mostly cats, a dog, many hamsters, a bird or two, and a rattlesnake. It wasn’t a pet and I dug him back up because my nephew wanted to see it and have the bones.
I have to say that every cat that I have had over the span of my life to date, has been weird in one way or another. We have had cats for as long as I can remember. There has almost always been at least one cat in our household. I have never had a “normal” cat. Pumpkin got run over in front of our house by our neighbor ( dad saved the day on that one, I never saw her), Turtle had half a tail and I still have scars on my chest from her. She came back from the vet after getting “fixed” a changed kitty. Tosca loved classical music, but started spraying like boy cats. Dot was so special, she was so friendly she spent time in the neighbors houses. She got shot by a BB gun. :( I’ve blogged about Jack here, I even made him a facebook fan page because he had human and feline friends that would come visit him. I now have a cat named Quirk, and he is quite quirky. He lives with my parents. But he too is... different. Here is a pic of Quirk.