Tuxedo Gets Spayed #39

I just called the hospital. Tuxedo’s operation was a success. I agreed with the doctor to keep her there overnight to supervise her coming out of anesthesia, and to monitor her eating and drinking pattern. I like that better than sending her home right after the operation.

It’s so quiet here at my house. I miss her so much. She’s not here to follow me from room to room. No one lightly meowing to make sure I am in the house. No Tuxedo trying to zoom out the front door when it’s opened and running upstairs to visit her buddy Angel.

I picked her up early the next day. I was glad to see her because I barely slept the night before. I can’t believe how Tuxedo affects my sleeping pattern. I was expecting her to jump on the bed with some toy, or interrupt my writing, or try to put me to bed.

She now has a microchip. The doctor told me she has severe gingivitis. They gave me some medicine drops to give her twice a day for the next 10 days. They gave her pain medication that will last for 3 days in her system.

When I picked her up in her carrier, she meowed for a while until I got her in the car. Then she squatted down and never made another peep until we got home. The minute I let her out she ran for her litter box. I didn’t see her for hours. When I awoke from taking a nap, she came out from under the bed.

She drank water from the other room. Soon after, I saw her sitting at the foot of my bed. She looked like she wanted to jump on, but was tentative about it. I gently picked her up and put her on the bed so she could lie down on her favorite spot.

I’m glad I had the spay operation. She is a house cat, so having a litter wasn’t the issue. Now I won’t have to see her struggle in heat every few weeks. The operation wasn’t cheap. Still, I have satisfaction that she is safe from breeding and trying to breed.

Tuxedo is Going to Get Spayed #38

My Poor Tuxedo. She looks so miserable when she’s in heat. Her beautiful round eyes slant to slits. She hates to be touched because it makes her shiver. It lasts so long, and I feel helpless seeing her suffer. She’s a little over a year now. So, I have decided to have her spayed sooner than later.

I wonder if Tuxedo will change after the operation. Will she still be loveable and affectionate? Will she still like to be kissed on the head and face? Will she be happy not to have the monthly burden of looking for a mate? Will she gain weight as I’ve heard happens after a cat is “fixed”?

I know I am being selfish, but I hear cats change after the operation. Will she become a “typical” cat? Will she become the aloof and selfish stereotyped cat, ignoring me and no longer follow me around the house? Will she continue to lie on the bed and take her naps? Flick her tail wildly when I pet and kiss her face? I have so many questions. I’m so insecure about all these issues.

I feel that spaying is a way to allow a cat to be free and out of mate-looking pain. She is clearly miserable. Her butt is always in my face. She screams all day long, and half the night. Being in heat makes her tired and sensitive. It must be done.

I am researching a few places to take her. My nieces have some suggestions. I don’t want her sliced up like a dead turkey. I want her to live through the operation and without complications. I want a hospital that is caring and careful and recognizes how owners feel about surgery and our pets.

I am afraid, but this isn’t about me. It’s about Tuxedo and her need to be spayed. I will make it happen, for her sake.

Tuxedo's Territory #37

Last night Tuxedo accidently pushed my writing notebook behind my bed. When I went to get it, she ran underneath the bed and started hitting me with her paw. Every time I reached for my notebook, she pawed me. I couldn’t believe it. She was fighting me for going under the bed. She sleeps there all night when we go to bed. I guess she resented me being in her territory. Eventually I was able to get the notebook. I made a mental note to be more careful next time.

The other day I went into my bedroom closet. Just as I opened the door, Tuxedo jumped on the dresser next to it and proceeded to whip me with her paws. Again, she fought me, meowing loudly, and jumping up on my arm. I took out what I needed and left. The back of the closet is where she takes her long naps.

I know cats are territorial, but this is ridiculous!

Keisha - In Memorial

I have found it difficult over the past month to write about Tuxedo. I have a heavy heart over the death of Keisha, my niece K.W.’s dog, who lived in our compound. She was a small, red mixed Chihuahua with perky ears. She came into our lives at four months old.

Keisha was the sweetest dog I have ever known. She loved her owner K.W. with a passion. She would bark every time K.W. was in, or even near the house. She wouldn’t stop until her owner was with her. K.W. would walk around the house, and Keisha would be directly at her side. She was always happy, always. Her smile was infectious.

Keisha’s personality was so sweet. She loved attention. Whenever the entire family was together, she would go to each of us for her head to be petted. After getting affection from us, she would lie down next to K.W. as we watched a movie or played games. It was always a pleasure to talk to her and rub her head.

Keisha even got along with other pets. I remember when Keisha first met my sister E.G.’s dog Jordan. They were both puppies. She went right up to him and started sniffing. Let’s say Jordan is a bit anti-social. Still, whenever Keisha visited my sister, she always tried to be friends with Jordan. Over the years, Jordan softened, and decided to co-exist with Keisha when she visited. Keisha in turn, respected Jordan’s space.

She lived with two large cats, and was a friend to Tuxedo. She played rough and tumble with them. She would sit down and let them wash her every day with their tongues. I could often hear them running and jumping around the house. It was clear that they loved each other.

When K.W.’s daughter G.M. was born, Keisha loved her too. Everyone knows a dog allows children to ‘abuse’ them without biting back. She let my toddler niece get away with things that were incredible to me. She followed G.M. around like a body guard.

Eleven year-old Keisha died on Thursday, August 12, 2011 of a heart attack in the waiting room of the animal hospital. K.W., G.M. and I had taken her there for x-rays for her heart condition. I guess the trip getting there was too much for her. It happened so fast. Her last view was of her beloved girls, K.W. and G.M.. I know we did everything that could have been done for her. I know it was her time to go, but her death still hurts and cuts into me.

I know she was up in age, but I wasn’t ready for Keisha to die. Every day I expect to hear her bark. I miss seeing her smile as I pet her head. Her presence in the house was strong. She added joy to our lives.

It’s been 6 weeks, and I am trying to move on from Keisha’s death. I miss her so much. I grieve for her, even as my life with Tuxedo has flourished. As I struggle to accept the Circle of Life, my memories of Keisha will never fail. Rest in Peace, little one.

The Ratty Toy Mouse Part 2 - #36

I was doing some cleaning when I discovered Tuxedo’s ratty toy mouse in a corner under my bed where she sleeps. Everybody together now – Awwwww!

Then I thought – wait a minute. Here I was feeling sorry for Tuxedo all these weeks, thinking she was upset over losing that ratty toy mouse. I looked all around the house for it. And she had it under my bed all along.

I brought it out into the open so she could play with it. It soon disappeared again, but not back under the bed. She put it somewhere else where I guess I won’t easily find it.

Now the stolen mouse is under the bed. I guess my Tuxedo wants a toy mouse to sleep with, like a small child with a teddy bear. She must have another private place where I can’t or won’t confiscate it.

That is soooo cute!

Looking Out for Tuxedo # 35

The inevitable happened today. I tripped over Tuxedo. Rather, I apparently stepped on her because she gave out a giant yelp. I jumped, she ran, and I fell on my living room couch. Half on, half off, I was unable to get a good grip on the couch to stand up.

Did I say I fell like a ton of cement bricks?  As I am very overweight, I couldn’t get my fat carcass up from the couch. Of course, Tuxedo knew nothing about my arthritic knees preventing me from just standing up from a prone position. So she just grazed her arched back on my legs several times before she lay down beside me on the floor.

It took me over 15 minutes to get off the couch. I felt like a beached whale. My knees just couldn’t support the weight I was carrying to get me upright again. I finally took three giant breaths of air, held on to the end of the couch for dear life, and forced myself upright.

I was on my way to getting some water for my ibuprofen. Once I could stand up, I needed to get my balance back. Then I limped to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water, and went painfully into bed.

I vow to rejuvenate my diet. For every ten pounds overweight it’s like adding 50-60 extra pounds on the knees. I felt every overweight pound hold me down. I have a long way to go. Still, I have a good reason other than I need to lose weight. I suspect I have many years of tripping over Tuxedo ahead of me.

Tuxedo Has Given Me a Bed Curfew # 34

Lately I have been on a writing roll, staying up until as early as 5 am. I guess Tuxedo decided that she’d had enough of my burning the midnight oil. Now, between 1 am and 2, she shows up and makes me go to bed. She walks all over the laptop, meows while hitting me with her head, and generally makes a pest of herself.

I don’t know why she chose this particular time for me to go to bed. But it’s been working. Rather than put up with her bullying, I go to bed around ‘her’ bedtime. I have to admit that getting the extra sleep has worked for me.

Today at six thirty in the morning, I heard tuxedo meowing for me. She does this from time to time, but not so early. As I was tired, I ignored her meows. I knew she had plenty of water and food. I hate getting up at six-thirty in the morning, so I tried to sleep through her noise.

Soon the meowing stopped. But a few minutes later, I felt her playing with my hand. I couldn’t ignore that, and I felt she really wanted me to get up. So I opened my eyes and saw her playing with my hand, and I played with her for about ten minutes.

Tuxedo then stood up and hopped off the bed. That spoiled feline woke me up at six-thirty in the “hell no!” morning to play with her for ten minutes! What cheekiness! She is so spoiled, and I can’t say anything because I caused it.

Note to Self – Start sleeping with my hands under the covers.

 

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