First, rolling in a day late - I am linking up with Cari for her Theme Thursday. This weeks theme was answer. Here is my submission, it comes with a both a question and an answer:
Question: Is Spring ever coming? Answer: No |
Moving on because I can't stand my own whining any more.
Nike.
My poor, neurotic, OCD, sweet, crazy cat.
My favorite picture of her. Her keeping watch. |
Nike's life has to be set to her own regimen. She will only eat her wet food in a certain spot. We play together at the same time every day. She spends the same amount of time walking all over my Beloved every morning when he lays down, being petted. The list goes on and on.
We do the same things every day. That is the way it has always been for her. We're okay with that.
Then, we moved. I don't remember her reaction being as severe when we moved to the condo but, she did have Icky and he was laid back, carefree and all "Whatevs". He was the Yin to her Yang.
Then, in September he got sick. And in October her big brother went away and never came home. She was depressed, she licked all the fur off her belly, her thighs and the back side of her front legs.
Then, in December I brought Gandalf into her life. He was locked in the library for a week where she could smell him but not interact with him. The next week he was roaming around the house playing with her toys, sleeping in the only cat bed she's ever slept in and just generally being in her life. The next thing you know he's gone for a week, then back for a week before being gone forever.
Then, the very next week, my Beloved and I went on our yearly Road Trip Anniversary Vacation. We had a pet sitter come once a day to feed her, scoop her litter and play with her for an hour but for the most part, she was all alone in that big old farmhouse. According to Dawn, her sitter, she was very good and there was no vomiting, only one accident where she aimed high and missed the litter box a bit. When we got home- Woodoggy! She would not leave our sides. Literally. And she has never been a lap cat or an overly affectionate one but, all of a sudden she was sitting next to us on the couch touching one of us, sleeping in our bed, following us around.
And now? Now I've gone and done it. Because she was so incredibly lonely and she is still acting depressed I went and rescued not one, but two kittens last Friday (their story another day). They're locked in the library so she can smell them and she knows they're there.
This past Tuesday her aim was way off and that little cat managed to leave a Lake Superior sized puddle mostly outside of the box. I emptied the box in the trash, washed the bejeezsus out of it and put it out on the deck. I got one of the litter boxes out that used to be hers and Icky's and is much deeper. I was hoping that with the higher sides her bad aim wouldn't matter. When I got home from work on Wednesday I was glad to see that she had done at least some of her business in there.
One of our "routines" is her chasing/pouncing on my hands as I fish around beneath the covers for my rice heating pads and again after they've been warmed in the microwave and I'm putting them in the bed.
Tuesday night she was acting odd and instead of playing she was sniffing. That's when I got a sinking feeling in my gut. I knew. Sure enough, she peed on the quilt. I didn't get angry, I just stripped the bed and put everything the washing machine. I thought it was just the change of litter box and maybe it was too high for her to step into. Wednesday was uneventful except she did only some of her business in the box again.
On my way home yesterday to pick up the kittens to take them to vet for their last distemper and general checkup, I stopped at Petco and picked up a gigantic litter box that is low in the front but is high in the back and along the sides- better to prevent poorly aimed urine from reaching the floor, yet not difficult to get in and out of.
That obviously wasn't the answer because last night was a repeat of Tuesday night. I calmly stripped the bed and had a good quiet cry. I woke up this morning to Coke can sized pile of "scarf and barf" vomit right outside the bedroom door. And when I came out of the kittens room this morning she was busy in the living room producing hairballs because she's licking herself bare again.
My heart is breaking for her that she is so stressed out and is so miserable. I cried a lot this morning, I am crying now.
My poor Nike, she's had a horrible week.
I wish I had an answer on how best to help her.
Praying for Nike and you, and all your cats.
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