#fuzz therapy

[imagine-loki]

Imagine you’re able to somehow get to Loki in that desert place before the TVA do, so you’re able to take him home, sit him in the comfiest armchair in your living room, wrap him in blankets (one for his legs, one for his shoulders), plonk your cat on his lap for Fuzz Therapy purposes, and feed him a nice comforting mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and sprinkles and things

[bomberqueen17]

Cat updates. 

She won’t eat pills hidden in food. Fine. So I read a WikiHow article on pilling cats, figured out how to hold her face to make her open her mouth (the U-shaped grip over the top of the head seems to work on an animal her size, my baby’s petite), and have gotten pretty good at flinging a pill straight down her gullet.

A couple things seem to be helping me. Well, one is Dude, I make him hold her and sit down so I can reach. But another is that she’s petite and not very strong, and a third is that when she was a kitten we used to sometimes hold her in a restraint position when she was being totally nuts, and she’d try to escape but she was too little. As a result of this, she will often genuinely believe that if a human is holding her, she can’t escape; she’ll struggle to let us know she wants to go, but if she doesn’t succeed, she doesn’t keep trying. (And I know once Dude really did hang onto her in a dangerous situation where she was genuinely trying to get away, and she scratched the everloving fuck out of him but he didn’t let go, so that reinforced it.) She just doesn’t struggle hard, because she believes she can’t succeed.

I know, and you know, that she damn well could, so I’m really really grateful for this. I’ve had some run-ins with cats who knew I couldn’t hold them if they really tried, and I’ve got actual scars in a couple of places, so. But not Chita! 

I’ve experimented, and she’ll still take treats from my hands. And she’ll still sit in my lap and snuggle. and she spent the entire night sleeping on my arm/face. So, I guess she’s not mad.

The one thing I’ve found important is to dampen the pill, as this is a kind of powdery one. One time I didn’t and I think it caught in her throat, she was coughing afterwards and seemed disgruntled. But if I put a little water on it, then fling it in there, it goes right down. 

You really gotta toss it, though, you can’t set shit down on her tongue or she’ll spit it out.

Let’s hope this is as difficult as it gets. 

She went into hiding for a couple of hours yesterday, sulking or maybe just sleeping, but I don’t know if it was pill-related. She was on Dude’s lap and the fridge made a weird noise, and he turned to look at it, and after a moment she suddenly freaked out so bad she got one of her back claws stuck in his arm and ripped a chunk of his skin. I think she hurt her toe; she’s yelped at me a couple times while I was holding her since then. Anyway, she vanished for a couple of hours, and didn’t answer when I wandered through the house calling for her, but then she came out in the evening like nothing had happened, so I guess she’s okay and not feeling too weird. 

Dude went and bought her replacement cat food, the kind she had before, and she went right back to eating it, so I guess that was the problem after all. 

You just never know, with cats. They hide so much. We had no idea she had a UTI, she was behaving perfectly normally. And we wouldn’t have known she was having thyroid issues, she’s slender but that’s the shape she’s always been. I guess her numbers weren’t really bad for either condition, but they were noticeable. 

Anyway. My little dork. She spent from 4am to 5:30 am with her head upside-down in the palm of my hand, squeaking occasionally. I slept with my face against her belly.

[lazyscience]

[lazyscience]

Pic from yesterday I overlooked but look at Mr. Supermodel of the World, i love him.

[void-tiger]

I’ll get through this one cat tummy at a time

[void-tiger]

I guess Tonks sensed my depression, ‘cause the cuddly, purry furbaby insisted on giving me cheekrubs and kisses

[its-sugar-n-spice-blog]

My heart is breaking. My roommate (who technically owns Simba, the orange kitty) has decided out of the blue that she “can’t handle” having two cats in the house. So she’s getting rid of him. My kitty, his brother, is going to be broken-hearted, as they’ve been together since birth. I’m broken-hearted, because he is one of the sweetest, most cuddly cats I have ever met. I’m angry. And she has chosen to ignore and devalue my feelings on the subject.

[lazyscience]

(via Man Saves Roadside Kitten Meowing for Help, The Transformation Will Amaze You!)