I should start of with an admission that will surely earn me a pitting: I am not a cat person. Personally, I could happily live the rest of my life without living with another over-blown mousers. I can, however, tolerate the little buggers when someone else is responsible for them. I have met a very few cats who I would call cool. My brother’s cats are well-trained sociable creatures. One of them (Hobbes, his Abby) is a shoulder-mounted kitty; very cool. Still don’t want to live with 'em, tho.
Anyway, now that I’ve got that off of my chest, there’s a problem with this cat I live with. It’s sorta kinda my housemates. This is where things get a little complicated, so I will take another little tanget. It’s kinda long for a cat health question thread (but not Sampiro-long).
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Our housing story is long enough in it’s own right, but the short version is that we didn’t know each other until the day we signed the lease. So far, things have been great, tho. My housemate …Sally… (of course that’s not her real name) moved in with one cat, Max, and the stated intention of getting a dog, Lola. Of the two, I prefered Max’s company. (And, given the first sentence, and the fact that I am a dog-person should tell you a little something about Lola, but I digress…) Very unforetunately, Max died last weekend from an embolism that started in his back or legs, then migrated to his heart or lungs. Max was a very sociable creature; he would constantly mmrrrooowwww for attention. I nicked named him the “Attention Whore;” his owner whole-heartedly agreed. He died suddenly; he was only six. He is missed around the house. (Surprisingly enough, even by me.)
Max is (was) not the problem cat. That’s Queenie, who is not really Sally’s. Ok, so one of Sally’s former roommates is moving in with her fiance. She (the new fiance) is allergic to cats. Max knew Queenie and had lived with her before, so Sally decided that they would get along ok. So, after asking us (her current housemate), she agreed to take in Queenie. But - and here’s I think the funny part - having watched her old roommate go through several relationships, Sally only agreed to take in Queenie because she doesn’t think the relationship will last. So far, it’s been a couple of months, but the bet was six…
Queenie is nowhere near as sociable as Max was. In fact, one of her favorite games is to purr, let you start to pet her, then try to take a swipe. She can change her mood faster than any other creature I have ever seen. Her nick name is “The Drama Queen.” Again, I got full agreement from Sally.
Ok, enough backstory / rambling.
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So, Queenie is fairly new to the household; but - and here is an important part - she is still eating the exact same catfood as before she moved in. The problem is that she pukes EVERY FRICKIN WHERE, and it’s been going on for a couple of months now! I mean, it’s like I’m living with a bulemic cat or something. What, does she think she needs to lose weight or something? I could understand some issue if she had switched her food, but it’s the SAME GODDAMNED FOOD! Why does this cat decide to puke all over the house? I don’t understand it. Maybe she doesn’t like the looks of our carpets and thinks she can convince us to get rid of them? Is she trying to tell us we need to clean more often? I mean, whiskey-tango-foxtrot, cat? What is your major malfunction?
Damn! Last night I stepped in it (with shoes still on, or I would have added my own puke to the pileS), and didn’t notice until I started slipping on the hard-wood floor. (Gee, why am I losing traction? Oh, look, the cat puke again. and again. and a-FRICKIN-gain!)
So, you cat people (and I know you’re out there), what the #@(% is wrong with this cat?
Oh, and because I know I will be tarred, feathered, dipped in oil, and then cast into the pit of doom without this, requisite cat pic.