Monday, September 04, 2006
Attack of the 22 lb Cat
This morning King tried to eat my face. I should have known this would happen eventually. After rubbing a steroid on his third eyelid for three weeks upon adoption, I decided to try and tackle the blood-in-the-stool problem. After being diagnosed with IBS, King was put on prednisone. This meant giving him two pills a day. At the time, King weighed 25 lbs and had broken off a tooth from breaking into the garbage bag and molesting a chicken leg. Trying to wrestle him into taking a pill was no party, which led me to invent (in my mind only) The Cat Burrito. The Cat Burrito is for those who live alone/get absolutely zero help from their partners while trying to pill a cat. See illustration.
Anyway, the prednisone caused King to gain even MORE weight, which led to him getting mild diabetes. My vet, who is a saint, suggested that we take him off the meds. So back to the blood in the stool (and I’m not even going to discuss the sheer SIZE or ODOR of King’s daily poop). Then I had to put him, and consequently Webster, on an all-wet-food diet, which pissed off Webbie because he loves his crunchy dry food. According to my vet, an all wet diet is kind of like Adkins, and let me tell you, it worked like a charm. Even the realtor (did I mention my building has been for sale for over a year so a realtor comes trolling through about once a week with rich people?) asked me if King had lost weight. He is so svelte now at 22 lbs.
King regularly wakes me up by eating any plastic he can find in the house. Other cat owners have told me that their pets like to “lick” plastic. No, I say, mine eats the plastic. I didn’t know I had so much plastic in my house, but King will find it. Usually, it’s the smallest bit of garbage bag that hangs out of the trash can. If he can’t find plastic, he sticks his nose into my nostril and squeals out his little meow, which is remarkably high-pitched for such a large cat. MAR. That’s what his meow sounds like. He tries to shove his whole body up my nostril. Then he curls around my head on my pillow (more than once leaving a nice poo-smear in the process—cats with IBS often have dingleberries) and purrs and kneads my head until I get up.
Once I was so frustrated that I jumped out of bed at 6AM, threw some leftover dry food in the bowls and went back to sleep. Only later did I realize the error of my ways. Not having dry food for so long upset King’s delicate stomach and while sitting on a bookshelf in my office, he projectile-vomited onto the wall, computer, computer desk, stack of CDs, about 10 books, computer chair, floor, etc. I knew I had to hurry and find a way to get it off the wall since, of course, the realtor was coming over. After a botched attempt with 409, I went out and got those Mr. Clean Magic Eraser things. Worked like a charm. If you ever have cat vomit on your wall, get the Magic Eraser.
This morning King was being innocent enough. He was on my pillow above my head, placing his paws ever so delicately so that they perfectly found small clumps of hair that he could yank on to wake me up. Then he went for the nostril, MARing and rubbing his face against me. I said good morning. Now, I’m willing to admit that it is possible that my breath smelled like his special non-chicken-non-beef-order-only wet food. But I was totally shocked when he actually opened his little three-toothed mouth and BIT MY CHIN. It is true what they say, he will eat me if I die.