They can. A teaspoon at a time (unsweetened and unflavored, plain, plain, plain), same with the plain canned pumpkin, just a teaspoon for a cat once a day. Metamucil is also used, mixed into canned food, I think that’s 1/4 teaspoon a day.
It can go in both directions, sometimes a lack of beneficial bacteria can be the cause of sporadic diarrhea, so adding probiotics can help. Sometimes an overpopulation of beneficial bacteria can be the cause, and in that case an antibiotic (usually metronidazole) is called for. Sometimes it’s a combination of these or neither, and just plain fiber (which is the pumpkin or Metamucil) does the trick. But as the veterinarian in EmilyG’s case said, if it’s only occasionally and not so bad the cat misses the box, it’s likely not to worry much about.
I had one cat who only got diarrhea when I was away from home for more than a day. It was nerves from being separated from me and having “not mom” coming into the house twice a day and feeding him and trying to play or give him attention. So, a nervous environment can also be a factor.
Friend of mine put up a picture the other day that had some quote of inane wisdom about not picking flowers cause then they die, which was fine, but it was a picture of the bearded mystic who said that thing, and it identified him as “Osho”.
So I bit my tongue, but it sure rubbed me the wrong way, because that guy was a turd. I lived in Portland around the time his gang showed up around there, and they were just a three year infection upon the desert. How do you take a mystical guru seriously when he has over 90 Rolls Royces? Might as well be Jiminy Swaggart or Uri Geller.
Just wanted to vent. It kind of bothers me that it bothers me. The guy has been the late for more than 20 years, I really ought to be over it by now, it makes me feel a little uncomfortable in my own skin. I guess seeing people appreciate his vacuous “wisdom” just brings it all up, and I want to say to them, “screw that guy, sideways, with a hedgehog.” (Not that I have anything against hedgehogs.)
My eighteen year old is smoking weed, not really going to school anymore, owes us lots of money, has banged up his nearly new car, and will be a father in about a month. I’ve really tried to be understanding and helpful and kind and loving but it’s. not. working. He is not in school today and I’ve called his cell about ten times but he won’t answer.
Sure, but probiotics are good for you too. Get some capsules that have many strains, sprinkle 1/4 on the cat’s food, then take the rest for yourself. Repeat weekly.
TheElf is for the most part, enjoying his time in the UK, but for some reason thinks that it shouldn’t be raining in Scotland for over a week. In October. :smack: Oh yeah, you Scots should have better roads so I don’t have to hear about it every time He and I have a conversation. Good thing there is scotch (both here and there).
I’m in a major, interkingdom SCA household. Less that a week ago, one of the members (who I did not know personally) died. I believe this makes the 4th or 5th person in the household this year. This sucks.
This morning, I found out that someone who I knew as slightly more as a passing acquaintance died yesterday. He was a lovely, courteous, well-respected member of the SCA, and was also peripherally associated with my household. I am also good friends with several people who were members of his SCA household. This sucks moose balls.
On top of it all, I can’t get an image out of my head of a prank that two of my friends pulled at Pennsic on the gentleman who just passed; and one of the two who pulled the prank died several years ago. So I’m getting sucked into this morass of pissed off depression.
We have a “stray” family at our house for the foreseeable future. They’re mostly good folks - mom and her two kids, mom lost her job and is trying to finish a certification at technical school, her housing situation became unstable to the point of worrying about her personal safety, and I’m sincerely glad they’re here instead of where they were. Mom is lovely, teenage daughter is about as civilized as I expect a teenage girl to be. College-aged son? Can kiss my ass.
Son is going to school with mom, in the same certificate program. Poor kid can’t help being incredibly stupid - I’m not exaggerating when I say that I had to explain three times today when his mom wanted him to “help” me change a (bog-standard) light bulb in the bathroom. He has the common sense of a not-particularly-gifted spinach leaf. But his Entitled Princess attitude is already old. When my dad generously offered to let dipshit use his motor home, so that he could have a little space and privacy of his own? “Would he mind if I rearranged/removed the stuff he has stored in there/had parties there?” Yes. Yes he would mind. If it’s not good enough for you, please continue to share a room with your mother. When he was informed that no, he’s not allowed to drive our vehicles unless one of us is in it with him, he had the nerve to argue that, well, our own 17-year-old is allowed to drive his truck, which he paid for, so why can’t he? (Incidentally, this kid has already has one Super Speeder ticket. His own mother won’t let him drive her car, either!) When I cook dinner, I can never find the ingredients I expect - they’ve been eaten, and no one has mentioned that we’re out of cheese/yogurt/pecans/etc. But he doesn’t like my cooking, because I don’t/can’t afford to pay twice the cost for certified organic/pasture-raised/gold-plated fruit versus three pounds of apples for $2.00. Naturally, he’s made no move to get a part-time job to buy his own caviar and foie gras, though!
I almost sorta hope that my husband loses his cool with the kid before I do: Mom and Tony have been friends and colleagues for more years than I’ve known her, and she’d probably take the tantrum from him better. As far as I’m concerned, the kid can find his own living quarters, or bunk at his dad’s, but I’ll put up with him for his mother’s sake.
Well, the boy turned up. We had a nice fight in the guidance counselor’s office. Turns out my special snowflake just doesn’t like school, so he’ll be taking an alternate route to his diploma.
The good news is that at least we’ll be trying something different now. Also, I got some of the crying out of my system.
No offense, but why the fuck are you putting up with him? I do sympathize because my late mom had to put up with this shit from from my bro. It’s nice you’re being nice to the mom but you are not obligated to put up with the son. IMO, you need to tell him to behave like an adult or get his mom to get him to behave like one. That ought to include earning at least some income unless he’s taking a heavy class load like pre-med or engineering.
My 13 year old is a great kid. I love him like mad. He’s polite, smart as a whip, generally well-behaved…
And trying to fail out of 8th grade. He tried to fail out of 7th as well, but pulled it back together. We’re under martial law at the moment: I’m dropping him off and picking him up from school, and watching over his homework like a hawk. Everything is to be done at the kitchen table, I’m riding his every moment. With me working as jailor/taskmaster/slavedriver, he’ll get out of the hole he’s already managed to dig for himself this semester.
That’s not my rant.
Oh my, no.
No, my li’l minirant today is, once more, directed at his mother. My ex. Evil Bitch Queen.
She’s turning the Boy’s school troubles, inasmuch as she can, into a referendum on my (and my partner’s) parenting. Snippy, nasty insinuations in emails, all perfectly deniable of course. Suggestions that I’m going too easy, or not paying enough attention, or don’t care enough, or am just not good enough.
The real problem is that I get it. I really do. She’s in another city (by her choice, and we fought a nasty custody battle at her initiation over it) and she’s paying for his (fucking expensive) school. She feels helpless, at a remove, uninvolved.
Eh, lessee - have my field journeyman cook in Atlantia, wrote some 75+ full length articles and several hundred filler articles for assorted local and baronial newsletters, schlepped a kiln and provided supplies and taught a multi-day pottery class down in Virginia Beach while I was on a months vacation there, made and gave away some 40 + sets of garb to both gold key and private individuals, worked innumerable events in various posts … over some 20+ years.
I know why I never got anything in Atlantia … when Mikey of Bedford asked me if I spit or swollowed when introduced to him by my then champion I spit into his lap and walked away. Thus ended any chance of anything in Atlantia. The most I got there was baronial level service awards. Ten when I got back up to East, since I had been away so long [and went from Thescorre to BBM] everybody considered me a new member so I effectively had to start all over again. So since I had an ‘attitude problem’ about being forced to start all over again despite demonstrable laurel quality work, fuck the process.
[URL=“http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/”]
There’s yer problem right there. You have this strange notion that it’s the laurel quality work that makes one deserving of the goddamn laurel. :rolleyes:
To be fair, An Tir seems to be pretty decent about newcomers from other kingdoms, as these things go…but I’m so very done with that bullshit.
Have you posted this at the Café Society? Those folks could probably point you to just the right place, they really do know their stuff.
Offers up some internet support. You sound like an awesome parent, you are doing everything you can. I hope things get better.
I have to take this moment to tell you that I’ve always thought that you were a totally awesome person. Now I’m just standing up and cheering! W00T!!! You go, girlfriend!!!
I’m really doing my best to be tactfully straightforward about my expectations for Vinnie. I don’t think he’s a bad kid, just monumentally self-absorbed and lacking enough experience to realize just how ignorant he is. Part of this is, I know, because he’s 20. Part of it is because his parents seem not to have ever expected him to take any responsibility for himself. It will get better or he/they will leave! And, honestly, he would be well-served to get out on his own and make his own mistakes.
The Paul Harvey “rest of the story” is that mom has learned that the lung cancer she successfully fought for several years is no longer in remission. Like another friend of mine, Mom has chosen to not seek treatment again - the first time was too much, the prognosis is already terrible, and she has chosen quality of life versus quantity. The kids don’t know. I don’t know if that’s the route I’d take, but it’s not my decision. Mom only enrolled in school to encourage her son to gain credentials for a potentially stable job with a good salary. Mom hopes she’ll survive the two years she needs to get Vinnie through tech school and her daughter through high school. We’ve done the paperwork so that my husband and I will become the daughter’s legal guardians if Mom doesn’t survive that long.
Back to mini-ranting: Tony can kiss my butt right about now. The internet went out again - same thing happened last night, and I had to call tech support and reset the router. Before calling tonight, I performed the same stuff that we did last night, right up to the part where I had to have technical help. My solution worked - internet available on the desktop, and on my phone. Tony couldn’t connect on the laptop, nor his tablet, so obviously, I had done something terribly wrong and ought to spend at least a half-hour on the phone with a bored stranger.
Turns out, he was trying to connect to the wrong router. But he wouldn’t shut up speculating about what I’d done wrong long enough for me to figure out the problem. I finally just took the laptop, connected, and handed it back to him. I was too mad to call him an impatient, overly-critical poopyhead, but I thought it very loudly.
It does seem to be on a kingdom by kingdom basis. I will teach someone privately, but I will no longer make the effort to teach classes at events.
Thanks I had tried complaining about his rudeness as did others but we were all told “That is just Mike, deal with it.” and I was no longer being tolerant of his or anybody elses shit. But then again, I was seriously close to being burnt out that far back.
Good thing there is scotch (both here and there).
I had tried complaining about his rudeness as did others but we were all told “That is just Mike, deal with it.” and I was no longer being tolerant of his or anybody elses shit. But then again, I was seriously close to being burnt out that far back.