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Archive for June, 2007

I’m a bit nervous. I mentioned yesterday I attempted to purchase a restraint module, gloves, etc. The salesperson said she’d call me if the restraint module (which I must have, at a minimum) was not in stock. She didn’t call. However, she also send she’d email me an invoice, and she hasn’t. I NEED this restraint module. I must have it. Tigger is coming… I’ve even seen photos of him, practicing his movies in preparation for our next battle.

Tigger is a cat. A HUGE 18 pound cat. Tigger’s not only big, he’s brave and he’s smart. A great combination, unless you’re attempting to cat-sit for said cat, and that cat does not want to be sat. To complicate matters a bit, Tigger’s diabetic. When his bean (human being) Donna first mentioned it, I offered to sit for Tigger. “No problem!,” I said. “Have dealt with lots of difficult cats”, I said. I had never met the likes of Tigger. I’ve met cats that will run. I’ve met cats that will bite or scratch if cornered. Tigger is neither.

So, in the interest in putting the upcoming visit into perspective, let me recap the first visit. It was over a month ago now, so the scars are healing well.

Tigger arrived Friday evening. Eighteen pounds of mammoth giant cat. Not fat (though he could probably stand to lose a pound or so)… HUGE. He’s also very cute, orange and white with a little pink nose.

We put him in a spare bedroom in the basement, and his beans let him out of his kennel. He walked around the room investigating (and hissing). He did come up to me and even brushed past my legs at one point, and I held out my hand once and was able to lightly touch his tail as he walked by. I was optimistic.

After a few hours I went down to spend some time with Tigger. His mom-bean had already given him his evening shot before he arrived – but I thought spending some time with him before I had to do anything to him would help. I was sitting on the floor, talking and looking his direction – suddenly he LUNGED across the room at me, grabbed my upper arm between his front legs and started biting.

(My arm was bruised and cut, but fortunately none of the bites were real deep. I’m really lucky I had on a long-sleeved t-shirt *and* a long-sleeved jacket. I cleaned them with hydrogen peroxide and it was black and blue and sore with a few cuts, but otherwise okay.)

Score: Tigger 1, Lintee Bean 0

Saturday morning arrives. I gear up. The gloves I bought for tearing up carpet – thick sweat pants – thick sweatshirt over t-shirt… and I go in. I start by attempting to scoop the litter box. I have to keep an eye on Tigger, because he’s pacing the room and making really unhappy noises.

I distract Tigger with freeze-dried chicken treats. While he’s eating, I attempt to touch the lancet pen to his ear… he glares at me and jerks back.

I try again… he screams and starts to attack me.

Tigger bites me in the leg.

I push him away.. he runs in the “cubby” of the cat tree… I try to touch his ear through the cat tree.. he gets angry and tries to bite.. he runs out, I grab him by the scruff and wrestle him to the ground with a thick towel… he flips over and screams and tries to bite… I have to let him go before he bites my forearm. He runs into his kennel. At this point he is screaming and panting.

I shut the kennel door. I try to figure out if I can test his blood sugar somehow through the kennel… No, not gonna happen.

I decide the best I can do is just try to shoot his insulin blind. I fill up a syringe with the dose for the lowest end of his scale and try to stab him through the kennel holes. It took some doing, and it may have been a fur shot, but it’s all I could accomplish.

My leg is cut, but fortunately not deep – since I pulled my leg away as he was biting, it’s more like he scratched me with his teeth than a deep bite.

Score: Tigger 2, Lintee Bean 0

I call his beans, and tell them I am *really* trying, but it’s not happening. I’m so sorry. They were super nice about it, and gave me a flat dose I could give without testing.

I came up with a new system. I have a baby safety gate I can use as a “shield”. I put a smaller plastic carrier I own with a wire “door” on the roof and put it in Tigger’s room. I make Tigger get out of his big kennel by “dumping” him from it toward the cubby in the cat tree… he is trying to attack because he doesn’t want me to mess with his kennel.

I manage to keep him away from me (or from hopping over the shield to rip out my jugular), and get the second smaller kennel set up.

Fast forward to Saturday night… here we go again. Using the new “shield” I enter the room (geared up) and herd Tigger into the smaller kennel. He goes in. I get the door shut and now he is contained. I’m able to scoop the litter box and fill his feeder without being maimed.

Now… treatment. Try to figure out if there’s a way to test him thru the kennel. He is NOT happy.

Lancet pen doesn’t fit thru the wire top door… his ears aren’t close enough to the front door… I am NOT opening the door and sticking my hand or arm in there.

I give up. I tilt the carrier so he’s forced to be closer to one side of the carrier… (He is FURIOUS).. take a lucky shot and jab the syringe through a carrier hole (hopefully into his flank). May have been a fur shot.

Get the shield, open the door a bit… and get out without being bit.

Score: Tigger 2, Lintee Bean 0 (neither of us drew blood, neither get a point)

Sunday morning.

Suit up and open the door – Tigger is ready and waiting.

Once again, able to herd Tigger into the smaller carrier using my new shield. Scoop the box without injury.

Thought about trying to test using a pawpad somehow… since his paws are pretty close to the front door of the carrier… he says it is NOT gonna happen.

Give Tigger some treats. He likes treats.

Tilt the carrier and shoot through a hole… I don’t know if I got much if any insulin in.

He’s ANGRY.

Open the door a bit, he tries to bite me – got my shield and able to exit room.

Score: Tigger 2, Lintee Bean 0

Left message for his beans that it was going better… kind of…

Sunday night I tried putting a bed of sorts in the bottom of the kennel to raise Tigger a bit… managed to do so without getting bit, but then he wouldn’t go in the kennel. (Smart cat.) Tried to use the shield to just shoot him while he was loose – but the syringe just bent and I didn’t get any insulin in, and it made Tigger very angry.

So, had to remove the bed thing again…. I figure out that if I pushed the treats through the holes in the kennel furthest from the front door – Tigger’s butt was near the door and I could shoot him near the flank through the door.

Score is still Tigger 2, Lintee Bean 0.

At this point, I’m spraying his freeze-dried treats with Rescue Remedy, I’ve got Feliway sprayed in the corners and a Feliway Plug-In diffuser in the room. I’ve laced his food with Tranquility Blend. I’ve got smooth jazz on the radio. Tigger still hates me.

He stayed with me a week, and I can’t say he ever warmed up to me. He’d tantalize me on occasion, roll over on his back and show me his fluffy belly… kitty hypnotizing technique… I’d be unable to resist, and reach my gloved hand toward the precious kitty belly, and he’d try to bite. The tummy was a trap.

Final Score was: Tigger 3, Lintee Bean 0

I got no glucose tests done while Tigger was with me, unless you count one urine test (with what were discovered to be expired test strips).

He nailed me the last (Saturday) morning. On his best behavior, and I thought I’d see what happened if I opened the top-loading door of the carrier… nothing. What would happen if I just tented the skin a bit? A glance, but back to eating treats… go to shoot, he sees the syringe, turns on me and bites me on the left wrist HARD, where the sweatshirt and gloves met. It was deep and bloody. I got to meet a new doctor and get antibiotics. Yay for me.

Yes, I know, I’m an idiot. What was I thinking, opening the kennel door? I have no idea.

Apparently, I’m the first cat-sitter in Tigger history that has said they’d be willing to cat-sit Tigger more than once His beans are taking advantage of it to take their first real vacation since he was diagnosed. He’s coming back in August. I’ve got to be ready.


Not a great picture of Tigger. It’s hard to take a photo while holding a shield, with a cat trying to figure out a way around it so he can kill you. You can see a bit of the shield in the lower right corner. I’m backed into a corner using it as protection.

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Typical day

Typical day today.

I had trouble dragging myself out of bed. Got up a half hour later than I should have – not a good start to the day. Fed and medicated the cats, and scooped the litter boxes. I have SEVERAL cats… several HIGH-MAINTENANCE cats… so this takes me an hour or more. One of the cats got sick this morning, so I had extra clean-up duty. Showered and dressed and off I go.

Many crazy cat ladies, including me, have real jobs… jobs at reputable companies doing professional work.. though we do it with more cat fur on our clothes than the average person. I commute downtown, take an elevator up to an office and punch at a keyboard most of the day.

Today during my lunch break, I called a couple companies looking for squeeze cages/restraint modules, muzzles, and wildlife gloves. Not as much luck as I hoped for, but at least I have a restraint module ordered (I think – she promised she’d call back if they weren’t in stock). I’m preparing for another visit from Tigger, but that’s another story.

I also had a few minutes over lunch to check my favorite online forums, a private board with other crazy cat people friends, and YourDiabeticCat.com.

Finished out my day, and headed back home. On the way home, I walk past the house of Little Old Man Neighbor (LOMN). He tends to watch for me and run out to say hello. Tonight, he was anxious to show me some flowers he was growing in the back yard. He cut me a bunch for a bouquet.

When I got home, I fed and medicated cats, and scooped litter boxes again. I had some more extra clean-up duty. (Not sure why I call it “extra” – not really extra above the usual, I guess it’s just extra nasty.) It’s hairball season, that adds to the fun. I swept the floors – that’s not really typical, I usually wait until the dust bunnies roam across the floors like tumbleweeds, but I decided to wipe them out while they were still young.

I noticed the bunch of flowers I got from LOMN came with a bug. Moved Mr. Bug outside. Noticed he brought a friend. Friend was squashed (sorry, friend… I already did my good deed of the day.) I hope it was just the two of them.

Now I’m enjoying my hour of TiVo and computer time.. which often turns into two hours, which leads to the getting up late…

It’s a glamourous life, but some crazy cat lady has to live it!

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I went shopping Friday night after work.

I decided it was probably good to “warm up” first… so I went to Old Navy and just picked up a few t-shirts and shoes without trying anything on.

Then, I ventured into Macy’s. Gigantic overwhelming Macy’s. Eight floors high, taking up an entire city block, Macy’s.

Eventually found my way through the first floor of perfumes, toiletries, handbags, jewelry… and found the escalators. Ventured up to the second floor – Men’s… up another floor – Women’s. Found a sign that said (among other things) “career”. Career sounds good. Career sounds like what I need.

Followed arrow… kept going… looking… searching…. eventually found three suits. None came in my size.

I’ve now spent about 1/2 hour at Macy’s. Over an hour shopping. Need to take a break… find a sign that says “restrooms”, it points to the floor. What does that mean? Pee on the floor? Go down a floor? I ask for assistance. Go through a scary frou-frou “don’t breathe on anything, it all has more digits in the price tag than I’m accustomed” department… wandered… found restroom.

Back to searching… searching… searching… after another 30 minutes, I’m thinking of throwing myself into the atrium.

Decide to try going up another floor… more women’s clothes… searching.. searching… I find some suits! Kasper… Jones New York…. even some “Sale” signs.

Start loading up my arms with suits… lots and lots of suits… arms start to hurt… head to the fitting room.

Nothing fits. I hate my body.

Left with three suits – the pants fit, though they’re way too long, and the blazer does a weird thing in the back – presumably because a friend told me I’m “short-waisted” so the waist of the blazer is too low and gets “hung up” on my enormous butt.

Head back out, carring my three not-so-horrible suits. Looking… found petite suits. Started loading up again. Having some trouble as it seems they don’t think people my size need petites.

Sales clerk in this suit dept has been ignoring me all this time.. but a sales clerk from the next dept over sees me and offers me a fitting room.

Started trying on again. Most don’t fit. For some reason, some designers think “petite” means “smaller and shorter” not just “shorter”.

Find two that “fit”. That is, they fit if I’m standing up. If I sit down, they’re a bit snug – not exploding at the seams, but I wouldn’t want to sit 12 hours in them.

I decide to buy these two suits. They’re on sale.

Sales clerk tells me if I apply for a Macy’s card, they’ll give me another 20% off. Decide to get a Macy’s card.

So, I now have two suits and can dress appropriately should the need arise.

One is a black pant suit and the other is a sage-green pant suit. Both are Kasper, as my friend Holly recommended. I could use some new shoes, but I have some black & white pumps, black flats (slight heel) and brown flats I could get by with.

suits

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Well, my friends have encouraged me to start my own blog – so here it is!

Since most of my waking and sleeping hours revolve around cats, I suspect most of my blog entries will as well. As a child, we lived next door to the town “crazy cat lady” – you know the woman who lives in a housedress and has more cats than anyone can count? (Someone tried, but gave up after they reached a hundred…) I liked cats, but I don’t think I expected to grow up to be the crazy cat lady… but it seems to be happening, or perhaps happened already.

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