WhKnight
June 10th, 2005, 10:19 PM
Hi, my name is Linda, I live in Missouri, and I'm new. I sought this list out for additional information when one of my cats stopped eating, and really appreciated the information and support.
I have had cats from the time I was four years old. My mother bought my first cat for me when we had to move and I could no longer take ballet lessons. His name was Tom (hey, I was four), and he was primarily a tiger cat. He lived until I was a junior in college, then just passed away in his favorite sleeping spot in front of the family refrigerator. He was a very patient cat who even tolerated being dressed up in doll clothes and ferried around in a baby carriage.
I got my second cat after I had my first apartment. I was and am a big Star Wars fan, and her name was Princess Leia. I got her at a pet store (never again) so she wasn't very socialized, and I think she had some Siamese in her. At any rate, she was a one-woman cat, and she had very good instincts when it came to men. Unfortunately, when she was about 14, she contracted some mysterious illness, and after struggling to get her to eat for about two months, she too died in her sleep.
Leia's temperament and her illness taught me a great deal about the importance of the right vet. She was a very anxious cat, and when vets tried to examine her or take blood, she became very upset and terrified and naturally fought with everything she had. I'll never forget the vet tech at one hospital, where I went to pick Leia up after the umpteenth IV fluids just to keep her alive. When I asked how they thought she'd do, the tech said: "She'll be all right. The mean ones always survive." I turned back to her and said, "She isn't mean, she's just frightened." I really wanted to tell her that if she thought my cat was mean, she should get another job, but I satisfied myself with finding another vet. Thank heavens for Dr. Rosen, who understood frightened felines and is as tender as a poppa. Leia was in the hospital; she died about midnight and he had her on his lap when she slipped away...that's how much he cares about his patients.
For the last 8 years, I have had two female cats I got from the Humane Society. Chaco came first, a calico mix who looks like a calico and two tabbies all thrown together. My boyfriend at the time and I were doing a lot of theatre and were often gone, so we got her a companion (somehow I think she wished we'd asked her opinon). Maya is a tortoiseshell with long hair. They have amazingly different personalities and I am utterly attached to both of them.
I'm trying to figure out how to post a picture of the girls...I'll have to root around and give it a try.
Linda
Linda
I have had cats from the time I was four years old. My mother bought my first cat for me when we had to move and I could no longer take ballet lessons. His name was Tom (hey, I was four), and he was primarily a tiger cat. He lived until I was a junior in college, then just passed away in his favorite sleeping spot in front of the family refrigerator. He was a very patient cat who even tolerated being dressed up in doll clothes and ferried around in a baby carriage.
I got my second cat after I had my first apartment. I was and am a big Star Wars fan, and her name was Princess Leia. I got her at a pet store (never again) so she wasn't very socialized, and I think she had some Siamese in her. At any rate, she was a one-woman cat, and she had very good instincts when it came to men. Unfortunately, when she was about 14, she contracted some mysterious illness, and after struggling to get her to eat for about two months, she too died in her sleep.
Leia's temperament and her illness taught me a great deal about the importance of the right vet. She was a very anxious cat, and when vets tried to examine her or take blood, she became very upset and terrified and naturally fought with everything she had. I'll never forget the vet tech at one hospital, where I went to pick Leia up after the umpteenth IV fluids just to keep her alive. When I asked how they thought she'd do, the tech said: "She'll be all right. The mean ones always survive." I turned back to her and said, "She isn't mean, she's just frightened." I really wanted to tell her that if she thought my cat was mean, she should get another job, but I satisfied myself with finding another vet. Thank heavens for Dr. Rosen, who understood frightened felines and is as tender as a poppa. Leia was in the hospital; she died about midnight and he had her on his lap when she slipped away...that's how much he cares about his patients.
For the last 8 years, I have had two female cats I got from the Humane Society. Chaco came first, a calico mix who looks like a calico and two tabbies all thrown together. My boyfriend at the time and I were doing a lot of theatre and were often gone, so we got her a companion (somehow I think she wished we'd asked her opinon). Maya is a tortoiseshell with long hair. They have amazingly different personalities and I am utterly attached to both of them.
I'm trying to figure out how to post a picture of the girls...I'll have to root around and give it a try.
Linda
Linda