ToT: The Fur Babies

Before we had a child, I was CERTAIN I wouldn't be one of those people who neglects their animals after the baby is born. POSITIVE.

Hmph. Easier said than done, but to some degree, we've pulled it off. We figure these poor guys have to get through a couple of years of being pretty low on the totem pole, but in exchange they'll have cuddles from Peanut for years to come.

Meet Arthur.

 

He is a furball and a half. He is an extremely smart cat, and extremely well-behaved. Shockingly, really. We got him in 2005. Ben thought he wanted to get a kitten, to start from scratch . . . until he saw a kitten. Cute, of course, but wild! Ben had never had a cat before, and I think he was ready to give it up, until we saw this guy. He immediately snuggled up to us through the cage, and we knew he was ours. The name on the cage was Ishi, and his previous vet bills called him Tigger. It's as if these people never even met him before! He was clearly an intellectual, with refined tastes, who preferred an old library to running around. Since he's so literary, his name is Arthur Pendragon Weasley Clark. (Yep, mixed a classic and a pop indulgence there.) He has red hair, for pity's sake. The triangle on his head (and other behaviors) indicate he is part Turkish Van, but his looooong hair and cuddliness make me wonder if he is part ragdoll. We think he was 2-3 years old when we got him, but he has always been an old soul. He's a snuggler (the most affectionate cat I've ever known--ask anyone who's had him sit on their head) and he was a perfect fit for us.

Then came Rigby.

Ugh, how humiliating. Poor Rigs.

I was fine with just the one cat, though I sort of felt that we could give another animal a good home, so we should. Rigby was wandering around someone's yard, and a friend picked him up. He was a kitten--maybe an adolescent--at the time. They loved him and said if there was ever a cat for them, this was the one--but their pugs kept eating the litter. Gross. Ben was sure it was a great idea, so here he came. And Ben was right. He and Arthur became fast friends (after some hierarchical negotiations). We always thought we would name our next cat Franklin, but it was specified his name must remain Rigby. My historian Beatles-loving husband and I came up with the ridiculous name Franklin Delanor Rigby Clark. Yes, folks, we are that cheesy. He is our street thug kitty, and he acts kind of like a dog sometimes--though he has become more cat-like in his old age. Somewhat. He's the only cat I know who falls down on a regular basis. When he's not sneaking water out of my glass, he's chasing imaginary insects or running laps around the house. He's a sweet guy with some anxiety disorder to go with his attachment disturbance. Possibly psychosis as well.

Yes, I diagnose my cats. Arthur was originally abandoned when his previous home had a baby, so I was very careful to navigate that trauma trigger for him--until the baby was born and reality set in. Rigby definitely is on an attachment disorder spectrum (not conventional clinical speak here but I think it's a spectrum!), based on his early neglect and abandonment. (I sound like I'm kidding, and I am a little bit, but I think there's some truth to all of this!) One year, we got held up in New York on our way home from Russia and were gone over 2 weeks (as opposed to 10 days), and even my mom believes he's been a different cat ever since. We're still rebuilding the trust from that one, I think.

These poor guys get a lot less attention from us than they used to, and they put up with a lot more noise and someone who is extremely fascinated with their fur and tails. But at the end of the day, we still love our boys. These guys have become pretty high maintenance, as far as cats are concerned. For pity's sake, Arthur had a tooth pulled the first year we had him--he has the cutest little hole in his mouth. And Rigby used up one of his lives when James was 3 weeks old . . . after a weekend of unpleasantness, we found out he had a bladder blockage and would die unless we took him to the kitty hospital, and even that was a longshot. We have feared this and taken him to the kitty ER a couple of times over the years only to be out a nice stack of cash and get sent home with some silly medicine he hates to take. But this time, it was legit. He was in kidney failure, but God love Noah Animal Hospital, after 3 days of IVs (and what some would consider a ridiculous bill), he was back. He is currently sponging my belly, blocking my view, and attempting to sit on my arms. Thanks to absurdly priced prescription food, we have had no issues since . . . a miracle of modern veterinary medicine, I'm sure. And poor Arthur seems to be getting old. He is stuck on Rigby's bladder and kidney food, since these guys can't keep to their own bowls, and it has made him heavy. He's popped up with his own unpleasant digestive issues over the past year or so, to the point we've had to cancel plans and deal with it. He has been sick today, digestive stuff, lethargic, and not eating. He's perked up some this evening, but I think he is going to the vet tomorrow. And I will hope my little snuggler has more kitty life left in him.

Yes, the kitties can be pains in the tuchus sometimes, but I wouldn't have it any other way. If they weren't with us, who knows where they would be, and I daresay even with the changes since J was born, they like it here. And we like them. There are studies galore saying that pet owners are happier, have less stress, all kinds of stuff. Like most good things in life, it's a bit more work, but the payoff is worth it.

I wrote a bit about shelter animals before, and I will say it again: if you're considering a pet, and I hope you do, PLEASE do your research. Most breeders and pet shops perpetuate misery, it's just a fact. There are so many animals who need homes! ARPO is great at matching particular animals with your needs, to make it a good fit. Most breeds have rescue groups, and most shelters want to help you find the right animal for your family. We were planning to get a therapy dog a couple of years back, but we had a baby instead. We'll probably go through ARPO to get J a buddy after we move, and I'll choose one ready for therapy training. A well-behaved dog who can help someone . . . that's my style.

Lots of our ToT bloggers are pet lovers--check out the links to the right for more animal love!