Sunday, December 30, 2007

Caretaker?? What's going on here?

Jennifer, my new caretaker!

So what's going on here you might be wondering. One of my litter changers (not the cute one) invites this person over and they're talking about me. My food needs, where my cancer pills are, and he even shows her my litter box! I know I'm a pretty public cat, being a celebrity and all, but where does he get off showing my litter box to a complete stranger? This isn't a rhetorical question! I'd like a damn answer to that!

I'm getting the feeling that the owners are going to desert me but there aren't any traveling things laying around like suitcases. I'm not very happy about this - as can be seen in the surveillance photo above. Now another thing becomes clear ... this chick works at Dr. Schoen's veterinary clinic & gulag. In fact, I overhear that she's a vet technician. I hear the word technician and I think of someone who is skilled at something - like maybe torturing cats!

I get abused around here only getting two feedings of Fancy Feast Sliced Ocean Fish Feast in Gravy a day and not getting petted nearly enough, but why call in a ringer? Well the next day I find out. The litter changers are leaving for a week and basically she's my babysitter! I'm 15 years old. Let's face it, when I was born she was probably in the 4th grade! I'm not sure what relevance that has, but I don't like being left in the care of strangers! My owners aren't good enough for me but at least they take care of my basic needs!

So here's the bottom line! She's been called in to "pill me" and make sure I got plenty of food and water. I'm getting a little tired of the new lingo around here. It's time to "pill Tommy" and referring to me as the "cancer cat." WTF!! The first day she comes I come out and she's all nice and stuff. Then like wham bang she's sticking pills down my mouth! She was pretty slick about this. I have to admit, even as street smart (and wilily) as I am, she got the best of me that day. She reminds me of the vet tech at the cancer clinic I go to. Vet techs are sneaky - I'm not going to mince words. I guess that's like a big job requirement or something!

She feeds me right after this and is serving me the Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy (one of my favorites!). Then she leaves. Just walks out.

The next day she comes I'm not quite so trusting. But she pets me and talks to me and then damnit! she sticks two pills down my throat!! I'm getting kind of tired of this routine! But she serves the Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy again and at least she knows how to make up for being so rude. She pets me quite a bit that day. I think she feels guilty sticking pills in me. I'll try and use that against her for more food.

Basically this routine goes on for a week. I'm getting lonely with just one visit a day with the bare minimum of adoration and one (not two) feedings a day. This ain't right. One of the four treaties in the Geneva Convention sets standards for non-combatant cat prisoners and that's just what I feel like - a prisoner in my own home! IS ANYBODY LISTENING! I'll look into this and Jennifer better hope that I don't find a good international cat law attorney to take my case because only one feeding a day of Fancy Feast has got to be against the law. That only makes sense!

A week alone got to be pretty dreary even with sleeping 18 hours a day and I have to admit I liked that at least Jennifer would come by. I don't think I'll hold her sticking pills down me against her. She was basically pretty nice to me and I think what happened was she was paid off by one of my owners (the mean one obviously) to do this to me. I hope she wasn't into all this just for the money because I'd hate to think the affection that came my way and the relationship (her admiration of me) that we developed wasn't real. At least she fed me the best Fancy Feast so she has good taste in cat food like my owners. She came by and scratched me behind the ears (it's my weak spot) and her and the big owner talked for awhile and nobody shoved pills down my mouth. I wasn't paying attention to them because it probably wasn't important and I was getting my head scratched as I just mentioned.

At least my owners got someone who is highly qualified to look after me. Most cats (and I'm not "most cats"!!) just get a neighbor or kid to come by. My status apparently requires a highly trained veterinary technician to visit me daily. She has 9 years of professional experience and she has a cat of her own. I won't settle for less in the future.

Things are starting to get back to normal around here. It's about feeding time so I gotta go!

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Natalie - another one of those models that love me!

Well another model was hanging around here all day. I don't know how they do it with the flashes popping all the time. Makes me see funny so I don't hang around all that. But, as usually happens, she really took a liking to me. Her name is Natalie and she's kind of confusing because her hair was black not an hour before she grabbed me and the paparazzi snagged this photo.

I've never seen a person with pink hair before. And I'm pretty worldly too. I wasn't born yesterday! She's really pretty. I mean that's kind of obvious - I just don't want any more sexual harassment charges! I ain't got time for that!

Anyways, I was feeling the love and she can squeeze me anytime she wants. Well, not at feeding time. But any other time is ok.

Monday, August 6, 2007


I have cancer. That's the diagnosis! How's THAT for some news! Dr Mallory called my owner up and we were hoping that the verdict would be feline inflammatory bowel disease that would explain my barfing and weight loss and it would suck less than cancer!

Well, I guess it's not my day!

They took a couple biopsies last time I went to the California Veterinary Specialists. That's when Dr Mallory poked that endoscopic torture tool down my throat (see surveillance photo below). They had drugged me so it's not like I gave a rat's ass when they did that, but the whole process is just annoying and, to be honest, I'm getting reeeaallly tired of it. I just keep thinking about how all this money my owners are spending on this stuff could be invested in additional Fancy Feast meals for me! Well, who said life is fair, right? I mean ... just ask any dog! ha ha ha!!

In this surveillance photo you can see when they took out the disgusting biopsy goop. YUK!

So anyways ... the good news (yeah, right ... good news!) is that I have a small cell cancer. I'm no expert but it seems like if you're going to have cancer it's best to have a smaller one than a bigger one. I mean, come on, that's just common sense. It's not like I need a PhD is histopathology stuff to figure that out! And the tests also showed that the cancer hasn't spread much in my lymph nodes. I didn't even know I HAD any lymph nodes! Now that's pretty funny! So on Thursday, they're going to drag my ass back to the vet facility to get poked and looked over by a oncology-type doctor. I hope they don't shave any more fur off of me - I'm walking around here looking like a french poodle. It's hard not to be a little self-conscious chasing rodents into the swimming pool looking like a french poodle!

Hey, guess what! The cancer is in my intestine. I'm taking a little satisfaction knowing that my cancer cells are swimming around in my POO! HA HA HA!!!!

I don't have any first hand stuff but I keep my ears in gear when the Vet calls anymore. It's like I want to know if the news is bad news or worse news! I heard my owner on the phone with the Doc and it sounds like they're going to inflict me with some chemotherapy. I'm not sure I need any therapy. I'm not a neurotic cat and I have no active psychoses anymore so I'll take a pass on this therapy stuff. We live in California so I can just imagine they got some wack-job new-age dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks therapy in mind for me. Last thing I need is another session in a sensory deprivation tank! Those things are like Starbucks out here - one on every corner. Hey! Maybe they'll get me a shaman to go into a trance and sing and dance around my litter box!

I'll have more to report after this next visit to the feline medical compound. The news could have been better but the important thing with this is to keep a good attitude. I draw my inspiration from Lance Armstrong. He had cancer, lost a nut, and came back to do some pretty good bike-riding. At least it was good enough to piss off the French which suits me just fine since I'm stuck here looking like a french poodle thanks to the shaving I got at the Vet's! Maybe I'll get one of those yellow Lance Armstrong bracelets. I could wear it as a collar and make a fashion statement while I'm fighting my disease! At least I'd be looking good while I lose weight. You'ld think I was trying to be the Kate Moss of the cat world or something. Now she's hot! But if you want to catch a glimpse of her make sure she's not standing sideways!

One last thing ... I wish my owner would stop referring to me as the Cancer Cat! Frankly, it seems a little insensitive. Maybe I'll start doing some elective barfing!

I'm outta here!

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Cornell's "consultant" for your cat's health

Since I've been having all these medical problems, I decided to take my health into my own paws.

I discovered a great resource that makes me seem like I got a Doctorate in Cat Medicine! I don't usually comment on other people's web sites since it diverts attention from me, but this one is really good.

It's the Consultant web page at the Vet School at Cornell. It doesn't just give you some information, it also gives you refernces to the latest research. That's the kind of knowledge a really smart cat like me needs to have!

Look at this disgusting deader-than-a-doornail, pushing-up-daisies flattened rat! ewwww!