Suffering cat!

[Bondbug 32]

I am not a cat lover, let it be said. But a few years ago when we had, as happens in a village like this, an invasion of cat mum's and kittens (dad left for fresh pastures once the kits arrived - typical!) arrived in our bit of garden. They used to huddle on the kitchen window cill which is fairly high and at least 2 foot wide. We fed them for a while, but it became too much and we did not want it to grow into a cat menagerie. They were semi-wild. We managed by devious means and with a despicable betrayal of trust to semi-tame most of them, and take them to the local animal home. We hoped they had become friendly enough to be adopted. One of the mums, the least trusting, did manage to leap out of our badly secured carrying box at the centre and escape. I was pleased about that.

 

To please my wife, who talks more to animals than she talks to me (I worry about that), we kept one kitten. After several years he is still semi- wild.

 

The one thing that we rely on, however, is that any time we go out in the car he arrives from nowhere on the doorstep when we return - for food of course.

 

Monday evening after choir in Tours we arrived home ... no cat. He did not show up at the cat flap before bedtime ... unusual.

 

Tuesday ... no sign of cat. He usually lies under one of the bushes in the garden. In the evening my wife drew my attention to frantic cat-shouting which appeared to come from the house abutting the garden. Trapped cat ... in the house next door. They are away all day. Nobody at home. At 1030pm we gave up and went to bed.

 

This morning, still frantic cat noises, appearing to come from upstairs or even the roof space next door. I found another neighbour who has a key, just on the point of leaving for a holiday near Cologne (Köln). His key was for the other half of the house, where the cat appeared to be.

 

I should explain that next door there were two houses, one occupied by our neighbours , a young couple, who have recently purchased the second house and are in the process of making two into one, the second being semi-abandonned (or, if you prefer, interestingly in its original half-unused state). It was for this second part of the house that the neighbour has the key.

 

Problem solved ... but no ... they had left the other key in the lock on the inside. Phone calls were made. It appears that the neighbours did return home late last night and heard these cat noises ... searched the house(s) and found nothing. He is, to be sure, very timid and would certainly stop shouting and hide for his life in the face of unknown people.

 

So he is still shouting, somewhere up there behind the eaves. We have conversations through the slates. He is unhappy. I try to reassure him. He is abusive. I climb back down the ladder.

 

Nothing to do but wait the neighbours who get home today at 5.30. Fortunately the cat seems to be in a part of the house which has no proper floor at present except the topside of the clay/straw ("torchis") upper side of the ground floor ceiling. Friendly neighbour says the smell will be no problem given the under-renovation state of this part of the house. If anyone cleans up it won't be me - IT WON'T BE ME.

 

I don't like cats. I do however endure them if necessary.

[Rusto 0]

I'm pretty compassionate for animals, cats included. Prefer them to dogs, which I find a bit exasperating with their groveling and depency.

[chattius 2,527]

Menschen besitzen Hunde, Katzen besitzen Menschen. People have dogs, but cats have people.

[Rusto 0]

Menschen besitzen Hunde, Katzen besitzen Menschen. People have dogs, but cats have people.

 

Haha, yea some truth to that

[FrostElfGuard 9]

Menschen besitzen Hunde, Katzen besitzen Menschen. People have dogs, but cats have people.

 

Haha, yea some truth to that

 

I agree that most cats in general are in charge of their relationships... but there are some breeds that have the personality of dogs. My Athena was one of these. I wanted a cat that acted like a dog. Who would meet you at the door, and follow you from room to room (to some extent). She was perfect.

 

I feel sorry for the trapped but unable to let himself be rescued cat. Very interesting that he could get himself into such a situation. Also... very sad.

 

Thirst/hunger... loneliness... not a good way to be.

[Bondbug 32]

Rescue operation completed. First attempt, mum on own, failed; second attempt, mum with food failed; third attempt, mum + food + supposedly-sick-dad + ladder, eventually succeeded ... but it needed both of us. He was up top in a large area of ceiling space that only went halfway across the top floor. Wouldn't come till I got up there with his food. Most timid cat I ever knew. Not easy to carry down a ladder. Hungry but neurotic and in perfectly good nick.

 

Sleeping well, and no sore throat after all that miao-shouting.

 

Somehow your cat don't seem natural Frosty! Not sufficiently pin-brained.

Edited May 12, 2010 by Bondbug

[gogoblender 3,070]

So he is still shouting, somewhere up there behind the eaves. We have conversations through the slates. He is unhappy. I try to reassure him. He is abusive. I climb back down the ladder.

 

I love your prose.

 

You had me hooked, I was, unfortunately, laughing as I read this, wondering about the outcome. Thank god by the time I got to the end of this topic you had rescued him.

 

All hail the cat and it's minions.

 

You served him well that day.

 

 

gogo

[Bondbug 32]

All hail the cat and it's minions.

 

gogo

 

Not sure what you mean by minions pal ... it's a castrated male. Unless you mean me and the missus are its minions.

 

Yeh. Well ... you could be right. B....... cats.

[Grindtime33 0]

Did you know dogs can smell scents up to 40 feet underground? Also, cats can read peoples minds when we are in the delta state of our brain. The one were your kinda day dreaming not thinking or doing anything. Pretty odd but was flipping through the channels last night and ran across this show called "weird or what". Very interesting though. Another interesting topic you guys should search for is Oscar the cat. Better yet I'll post the article here.

 

 

"A Day in the Life of Oscar the Cat"

 

David M. Dosa, M.D., M.P.H.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oscar the Cat awakens from his nap, opening a single eye to survey his kingdom. From atop the desk in the doctor's charting area, the cat peers down the two wings of the nursing home's advanced dementia unit. All quiet on the western and eastern fronts. Slowly, he rises and extravagantly stretches his 2-year-old frame, first backward and then forward. He sits up and considers his next move.

 

In the distance, a resident approaches. It is Mrs. P., who has been living on the dementia unit's third floor for 3 years now. She has long forgotten her family, even though they visit her almost daily. Moderately disheveled after eating her lunch, half of which she now wears on her shirt, Mrs. P. is taking one of her many aimless strolls to nowhere. She glides toward Oscar, pushing her walker and muttering to herself with complete disregard for her surroundings. Perturbed, Oscar watches her carefully and, as she walks by, lets out a gentle hiss, a rattlesnake-like warning that says "leave me alone." She passes him without a glance and continues down the hallway. Oscar is relieved. It is not yet Mrs. P.'s time, and he wants nothing to do with her.

 

Oscar jumps down off the desk, relieved to be once more alone and in control of his domain. He takes a few moments to drink from his water bowl and grab a quick bite. Satisfied, he enjoys another stretch and sets out on his rounds. Oscar decides to head down the west wing first, along the way sidestepping Mr. S., who is slumped over on a couch in the hallway. With lips slightly pursed, he snores peacefully — perhaps blissfully unaware of where he is now living. Oscar continues down the hallway until he reaches its end and Room 310. The door is closed, so Oscar sits and waits. He has important business here.

 

 

 

 

Twenty-five minutes later, the door finally opens, and out walks a nurse's aide carrying dirty linens. "Hello, Oscar," she says. "Are you going inside?" Oscar lets her pass, then makes his way into the room, where there are two people. Lying in a corner bed and facing the wall, Mrs. T. is asleep in a fetal position. Her body is thin and wasted from the breast cancer that has been eating away at her organs. She is mildly jaundiced and has not spoken in several days. Sitting next to her is her daughter, who glances up from her novel to warmly greet the visitor. "Hello, Oscar. How are you today?"

 

Oscar takes no notice of the woman and leaps up onto the bed. He surveys Mrs. T. She is clearly in the terminal phase of illness, and her breathing is labored. Oscar's examination is interrupted by a nurse, who walks in to ask the daughter whether Mrs. T. is uncomfortable and needs more morphine. The daughter shakes her head, and the nurse retreats. Oscar returns to his work. He sniffs the air, gives Mrs. T. one final look, then jumps off the bed and quickly leaves the room. Not today.

 

Making his way back up the hallway, Oscar arrives at Room 313. The door is open, and he proceeds inside. Mrs. K. is resting peacefully in her bed, her breathing steady but shallow. She is surrounded by photographs of her grandchildren and one from her wedding day. Despite these keepsakes, she is alone. Oscar jumps onto her bed and again sniffs the air. He pauses to consider the situation, and then turns around twice before curling up beside Mrs. K.

 

One hour passes. Oscar waits. A nurse walks into the room to check on her patient. She pauses to note Oscar's presence. Concerned, she hurriedly leaves the room and returns to her desk. She grabs Mrs. K.'s chart off the medical-records rack and begins to make phone calls.

 

Within a half hour the family starts to arrive. Chairs are brought into the room, where the relatives begin their vigil. The priest is called to deliver last rites. And still, Oscar has not budged, instead purring and gently nuzzling Mrs. K. A young grandson asks his mother, "What is the cat doing here?" The mother, fighting back tears, tells him, "He is here to help Grandma get to heaven." Thirty minutes later, Mrs. K. takes her last earthly breath. With this, Oscar sits up, looks around, then departs the room so quietly that the grieving family barely notices.

 

On his way back to the charting area, Oscar passes a plaque mounted on the wall. On it is engraved a commendation from a local hospice agency: "For his compassionate hospice care, this plaque is awarded to Oscar the Cat." Oscar takes a quick drink of water and returns to his desk to curl up for a long rest. His day's work is done. There will be no more deaths today, not in Room 310 or in any other room for that matter. After all, no one dies on the third floor unless Oscar pays a visit and stays awhile.

 

Note: Since he was adopted by staff members as a kitten, Oscar the Cat has had an uncanny ability to predict when residents are about to die. Thus far, he has presided over the deaths of more than 25 residents on the third floor of Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Providence, Rhode Island. His mere presence at the bedside is viewed by physicians and nursing home staff as an almost absolute indicator of impending death, allowing staff members to adequately notify families. Oscar has also provided companionship to those who would otherwise have died alone. For his work, he is highly regarded by the physicians and staff at Steere House and by the families of the residents whom he serves.

 

Here is a picture of the little guy.

 

 

Couldn't get the damn HTML codes to work so you going to have to copy and paste haha. Sorry about that.

Oscar the Cat.

 

http://content.nejm.org/content/vol357/iss...large/03f1.jpeg

Edited May 13, 2010 by Grindtime33

[Bondbug 32]

Aristocratic looking beast!

 

Odd tale.

Edited May 13, 2010 by Bondbug

[Grindtime33 0]

Its a true story. Quite extraordinary if you ask me. Very interesting to me.

[Rusto 0]

Yea, my cat(lives with my mother), always seems to know when I'm leaving home. Starts acting very strange(stranger). Always will be following me about everywhere. For instance she'll be sleeping on my bed, I go downstairs, she gets up and follows, I go out for a smoke, she follows, I go back upstairs, she follows. Although always just kind of hanging about in the background, as if pretending shes not really following me.

[Groosum 1]

Totally believable and I have seen an instance of this sort of thing in my own personal life. I have heard of similar stories also surrounding cats and dogs, so I guess that makes me a believer in this.

[Bondbug 32]

Certainly did not disbelieve you Grindtime. There is a grave in Edinburgh of a dog called Greyfriars Bobby which shows outstanding commitment. But a dog this time. Here are some photos including the pub beside the cemetery, and pic of statue with traditional Edinburgh tenements behind

 

As for our cat he is scared of his own shadow. He comes in (cat flap) to feed, he sleeps in his chair; he purrs on our laps. But any sudden moves and he is off. Any visitors and he is off, though there was one visitor (who hated cats) that he took to and climbed on his lap!

Can't understand it. He has always been well treated and well but simply fed. Spends most of his time under bushes in the garden, or scratching up anything newly planted. Have to protect new plants with wire mesh.

 

Oddly enough when we take him with us down to the Pyrenees, out in the wilds, apart from decimating the lizard population he does follow us when we go on walks - but only so far, then he stops and waits.

 

P.S. I like the avatar Rusto. Less terrifying in battle perhaps. Looks not unlike me - handsome chap.

Edited May 14, 2010 by Bondbug

[chattius 2,527]

Cats and dogs:

If one of them is always licking the same place on a people's skin and the skin has a mole/skin marking there-- it's not a stupid idea to visit a doctor and have it checked. My niece (the one who makes this insect cheese) says that there are tries to train animals to smell/taste skin cancer.

[Groosum 1]

Cats and dogs:

If one of them is always licking the same place on a people's skin and the skin has a mole/skin marking there-- it's not a stupid idea to visit a doctor and have it checked. My niece (the one who makes this insect cheese) says that there are tries to train animals to smell/taste skin cancer.

They are currently training and assessing dogs for that role already with apparently results that can't be matched with technology yet.

[Bondbug 32]

Grindtimes post seems to show that the animlals have sensitivities that we humans lack.

 

My wife tells my of a story about two animals who lived together (she can't remember whether it was 2 dogs or dog and cat)

 

One night one of the animals licked its friend the dog all night, which was dead the next day. Odd how they can sense such things.

 

I am relieved to say that our cat does NOT lick my skin. Or perhaps he knows I have skin cancer and doesn't care. Oh well.

Edited May 14, 2010 by Bondbug

[Grindtime33 0]

Pretty cool pictures. Thats interesting as well. Was saying you didn't believe me . Haha, anyways its getting hard to find some spare time for sacred. Will be playing some tonight. Lets see what the adventure brings.