Could it be? Oh dearie me. Could I be allergic to my cat? Oh drat! Hair on my clothes And all up my nose That hair in the eye It did make me cry.
Half a lifetime ago, a white kitten was with me briefly.
His long hair and Roman nose determined that he should be named Caesar. In the end he took up residence with my friend Tim and I got to keep Tim’s cat Mo. A story in itself.
Caesar slept on my bed.
One day I woke up with a very strange feeling in one eye. When I looked in a mirror: “Oh my!”
Tim was nearby so I asked his opinion.
Sikkim, another Himalayan (aka Muffin)
“Ah!” he said.
The orb in that eye seemed to have been replaced by a golf ball.
It was swollen and lumpy.
Eyes being rather important, we agreed to seek immediate help and luckily it amounted only to an injection of some sort of antihistamine.
“Go home and sleep” said the doc.
Which I did for some 12 hours. It was the only time I managed to sleep while I was on a midnight shift. When I woke, the eye was normal.
Somehow one of Caesar’s hairs had got into my eye.
At least in future I would know that having a “golf ball eye” is nothing to get excited about.
He was my first, Mo
I loved him so.
Two Tim’s. My friend Timothy and another of my Himalayans.
Often a cat’s name seems obvious. “Tim-Pooh” was not actually named after my friend but after the capital of Bhutan, in the Himalayas.
Poor Thimphu had been bred to have a fore-shortened nose which made life difficult for him.
He was 12 weeks old when he was given to me by concerned friends.
Thimphu was born two days before my beloved Yeti (Yeti-Pooh) died. He was tiny and struggled to reach his first pound of weight.
One does not “replace” a deceased pet, but their passing opens a space for one more that will claim another piece of your heart.
Thimphu was adorable.
He was funny and sweet and he loved to be petted.
My vet mentioned that some flat-faced animals benefit from re-constructive surgery so I took him to a specialist, but when they anesthetized him, they discovered that there was not enough cartilage for them to work with. Timmy continued to snuffle.
It was all he had ever known, but I would love to have made life more comfortable for him.
It is so wrong that people interfere with Nature’s design.
Another Himalayan joined us for a few short months.
You can see in the picture the difference between Thimphu’s poor flat face and Georgy’s normal nose.
Georgy was a sweet old boy that was rescued off a street where he was struggling to stay alive. His hair had been so matted, he couldn’t move.
When I read his story I contacted his rescuer. If he could cope with being part of a crowd, I would be happy to offer him a home.
So he lived out his days with us.
What I intended to point out here, was that I have had quite a few long-haired cats over the years. Apart from the episode with my eye and nearly losing a finger after foolishly allowing it to be bitten, I have not suffered physically.
Cat-litter and odor remover sprays are another issue. Those toxic sprays affect my breathing, so I carefully use very diluted Clorox.
Allergies can develop but, if was to discover that I had become allergic to my pets, I would simply learn to manage.
What I have never been able to manage is losing pets.
Annie one of the Washington cats.
Thimphu and Panther.
It was not my intention to write this today. Sometimes it’s as if I cannot control where my fingers go.
Then again, it was February 11th 2014, that I lost Panther who had been such a great buddy. His passing was the first of a painful sequence.
No amount of psycho-therapy has ever been able to cure me of what I know is pointless torment. It’s separation anxiety. I have been parted so often from people I love/d and I was always able to cope with that, but with animals it is simply different.
My bunnies, Macy and Joely.
They were a big part of my life in Washington State.
Yeti’s Suites opened in 2008.
“M” and Oliver were among the first residents, along with Emily, peeping out of the box.
“M” and Oliver were bonded pals and were offered a home together, but “M” was unable to settle in, so we went to fetch him back.
That weekend was hard.
Oliver remained with the lady who wanted him and Emily eventually found a wonderful home.
We never tried to home “M” again. He liked being master of the suites and was very attached to Grant.
There were so many others! There were many cats that I baby-sat. There were cats at Best Friends sanctuary in Kanab, Utah where I spent a few days helping out. It is so special.
There were of course, many cats that I met in my travels and could not bring home. As well as many other animals. They all lodged themselves deep in my heart.
Note to self:
Do not listen to requiem masses while writing about long-ago pets.
It’s not helped my red nose a bit.
Nov ’86 – 19th Nov 03