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Cat Addiction: Chapter 199



 
 
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  #1  
Old March 3rd 05, 06:44 AM
Brian Link
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default Cat Addiction: Chapter 199

One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...

So we adopted Henry the pitiful stray, expecting him to be integrated
into our menagerie. This didn't work, so we've been looking for a new
home for him.

It looks like we may have actually found a spot for him, if the
potential adopters are interested. But the idea of losing him turns
out to be really painful.

Tonight I spent about an hour and a half on the couch with Henry. I'd
intended to take a nap, but he saw his opportunity to cuddle.

With his enemies safely quaranteened upstairs, he snuggled me close.
He tucked his head under my neck, and as he'd been trained, did not
knead my arms with his sharp claws, but chose the pillow I was laying
on instead.

We had serious quality time together - Henry being content to snuggle
and drool with one of the folks he sees whizzing through the house
every day. The guy who fed him, cleaned his ears, and gave him a soft
place to sleep.

And I cried, thinking about losing him.

To be sure, this is entirely different from having to put a cat to
sleep, or have them struck down by a car or dog. But the sense of loss
is very similar.

Howard, the best cat I've ever loved, merged into the family with only
a few scuffles (Tiger went to the vet with a scratched cornea, which
he healed from, and there-after formed a truce with Howard). But
Howard developed an inscrutable cat-disease after a few years, similar
to Feline Immuno-Deficiency-Syndrome, but not exactly that, which
forced us to surrender him to oblivion. Poor old Howard.

Henry is so close in temperament to Howard. Calm, grateful, snuggling,
and world-wise from his time on the street (he got his name the same
way, when I asked both cats who they were, they told me).

Once, while sitting in a Vet's office, I heard one guy say to another
"when you rescue an animal from the street, they never forget it".
That was true for Howard and for Henry.

Part of the problem with cat-grief, I think, is that these wonderful
little creatures are so human-like, that it's trivial to overlay your
own expectations and feelings on them.. to anthropomorphize them. They
have binocular vision, they learn how to be social with creatures so
unlike themselves, they are independant and thoughtful.

Thank god for Louis the Bengal, who is indeed a domesticated cat but
continues to show the quirky behavior of a wild animal who
unexpectedly finds himself in the company of another species. He's a
great anchor (did you know that Bengals actually smell different than
domestic mutts? At least Louis has a real musky-ferret smell,
something we didn't expect at all). He is the touchstone to remind us
that we are living with another species.

I take some solace that the new home could potentially be so much
better for Henry than our own home, which sports a vengeful, defensive
and threatening little Bengal with a frightened senior-citizen mutt.
Henry'd be the center of attention. He'd have very constant
companionship. He'd be well cared-for. But by god, I'd miss him.

BLink
  #2  
Old March 3rd 05, 06:48 AM
Mary
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default


"Brian Link" wrote in message
...
One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...

So we adopted Henry the pitiful stray, expecting him to be integrated
into our menagerie. This didn't work, so we've been looking for a new
home for him.

It looks like we may have actually found a spot for him, if the
potential adopters are interested. But the idea of losing him turns
out to be really painful.

Tonight I spent about an hour and a half on the couch with Henry. I'd
intended to take a nap, but he saw his opportunity to cuddle.

With his enemies safely quaranteened upstairs, he snuggled me close.
He tucked his head under my neck, and as he'd been trained, did not
knead my arms with his sharp claws, but chose the pillow I was laying
on instead.

We had serious quality time together - Henry being content to snuggle
and drool with one of the folks he sees whizzing through the house
every day. The guy who fed him, cleaned his ears, and gave him a soft
place to sleep.

And I cried, thinking about losing him.

To be sure, this is entirely different from having to put a cat to
sleep, or have them struck down by a car or dog. But the sense of loss
is very similar.

Howard, the best cat I've ever loved, merged into the family with only
a few scuffles (Tiger went to the vet with a scratched cornea, which
he healed from, and there-after formed a truce with Howard). But
Howard developed an inscrutable cat-disease after a few years, similar
to Feline Immuno-Deficiency-Syndrome, but not exactly that, which
forced us to surrender him to oblivion. Poor old Howard.

Henry is so close in temperament to Howard. Calm, grateful, snuggling,
and world-wise from his time on the street (he got his name the same
way, when I asked both cats who they were, they told me).

Once, while sitting in a Vet's office, I heard one guy say to another
"when you rescue an animal from the street, they never forget it".
That was true for Howard and for Henry.

Part of the problem with cat-grief, I think, is that these wonderful
little creatures are so human-like, that it's trivial to overlay your
own expectations and feelings on them.. to anthropomorphize them. They
have binocular vision, they learn how to be social with creatures so
unlike themselves, they are independant and thoughtful.

Thank god for Louis the Bengal, who is indeed a domesticated cat but
continues to show the quirky behavior of a wild animal who
unexpectedly finds himself in the company of another species. He's a
great anchor (did you know that Bengals actually smell different than
domestic mutts? At least Louis has a real musky-ferret smell,
something we didn't expect at all). He is the touchstone to remind us
that we are living with another species.

I take some solace that the new home could potentially be so much
better for Henry than our own home, which sports a vengeful, defensive
and threatening little Bengal with a frightened senior-citizen mutt.
Henry'd be the center of attention. He'd have very constant
companionship. He'd be well cared-for. But by god, I'd miss him.

BLink



Nooo! KEEP Henry. You were meant to be together.


  #3  
Old March 3rd 05, 07:14 AM
-L.
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default


Brian Link wrote:
One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...


snip

Think of it as opening the door for another foster, foundling, or
street urchin to wander into your life. Don't ever turn down a truly
good third-party home for a cat who finds you. You are the conduit to
a better life - and can be for many, many cats.

-L.

  #4  
Old March 3rd 05, 08:38 AM
Brian Link
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

On 2 Mar 2005 23:14:12 -0800, "-L." wrote:


snip



Thank you ... =)

BLink
  #5  
Old March 3rd 05, 08:44 AM
Brian Link
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

On Thu, 3 Mar 2005 01:48:20 -0500, "Mary"
wrote:


"Brian Link" wrote in message
.. .
One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...

So we adopted Henry the pitiful stray, expecting him to be integrated
into our menagerie. This didn't work, so we've been looking for a new
home for him.

It looks like we may have actually found a spot for him, if the
potential adopters are interested. But the idea of losing him turns
out to be really painful.

Tonight I spent about an hour and a half on the couch with Henry. I'd
intended to take a nap, but he saw his opportunity to cuddle.

With his enemies safely quaranteened upstairs, he snuggled me close.
He tucked his head under my neck, and as he'd been trained, did not
knead my arms with his sharp claws, but chose the pillow I was laying
on instead.

We had serious quality time together - Henry being content to snuggle
and drool with one of the folks he sees whizzing through the house
every day. The guy who fed him, cleaned his ears, and gave him a soft
place to sleep.

And I cried, thinking about losing him.

To be sure, this is entirely different from having to put a cat to
sleep, or have them struck down by a car or dog. But the sense of loss
is very similar.

Howard, the best cat I've ever loved, merged into the family with only
a few scuffles (Tiger went to the vet with a scratched cornea, which
he healed from, and there-after formed a truce with Howard). But
Howard developed an inscrutable cat-disease after a few years, similar
to Feline Immuno-Deficiency-Syndrome, but not exactly that, which
forced us to surrender him to oblivion. Poor old Howard.

Henry is so close in temperament to Howard. Calm, grateful, snuggling,
and world-wise from his time on the street (he got his name the same
way, when I asked both cats who they were, they told me).

Once, while sitting in a Vet's office, I heard one guy say to another
"when you rescue an animal from the street, they never forget it".
That was true for Howard and for Henry.

Part of the problem with cat-grief, I think, is that these wonderful
little creatures are so human-like, that it's trivial to overlay your
own expectations and feelings on them.. to anthropomorphize them. They
have binocular vision, they learn how to be social with creatures so
unlike themselves, they are independant and thoughtful.

Thank god for Louis the Bengal, who is indeed a domesticated cat but
continues to show the quirky behavior of a wild animal who
unexpectedly finds himself in the company of another species. He's a
great anchor (did you know that Bengals actually smell different than
domestic mutts? At least Louis has a real musky-ferret smell,
something we didn't expect at all). He is the touchstone to remind us
that we are living with another species.

I take some solace that the new home could potentially be so much
better for Henry than our own home, which sports a vengeful, defensive
and threatening little Bengal with a frightened senior-citizen mutt.
Henry'd be the center of attention. He'd have very constant
companionship. He'd be well cared-for. But by god, I'd miss him.

BLink



Nooo! KEEP Henry. You were meant to be together.


Thanks for the good wishes, but it's been six months, and Louis is
relentless in his anger toward this new usurper..

BLink
  #6  
Old March 3rd 05, 08:47 AM
Brian Link
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

On 2 Mar 2005 23:14:12 -0800, "-L." wrote:


Brian Link wrote:
One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...


snip

Think of it as opening the door for another foster, foundling, or
street urchin to wander into your life. Don't ever turn down a truly
good third-party home for a cat who finds you. You are the conduit to
a better life - and can be for many, many cats.

-L.


Thanks. It's an overwhelming number of strays out there. Poor Henry
endured one mild Minnesota winter .. there are so many others out
there who will not see the next winter..

BLinkj
  #7  
Old March 3rd 05, 05:06 PM
Monique Y. Mudama
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

On 2005-03-03, Brian Link penned:

Thanks for the good wishes, but it's been six months, and Louis is
relentless in his anger toward this new usurper..


Sometimes the best thing for the cats is to find one of them a new home. It
hurts like hell, though. Keeping him because you love him, even though his
home life would be miserable, would be selfish. You're doing the right thing.

--
monique, who spoils Oscar unmercifully

pictures: http://www.bounceswoosh.org/rpca
  #8  
Old March 3rd 05, 06:04 PM
Mary
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default


"Brian Link" wrote in message
...
On Thu, 3 Mar 2005 01:48:20 -0500, "Mary"
wrote:


"Brian Link" wrote in message
.. .
One of the many definitions of addiction is "doing things repeatedly
that are known to cause you pain". Like adopting new cats...

So we adopted Henry the pitiful stray, expecting him to be integrated
into our menagerie. This didn't work, so we've been looking for a new
home for him.

It looks like we may have actually found a spot for him, if the
potential adopters are interested. But the idea of losing him turns
out to be really painful.

Tonight I spent about an hour and a half on the couch with Henry. I'd
intended to take a nap, but he saw his opportunity to cuddle.

With his enemies safely quaranteened upstairs, he snuggled me close.
He tucked his head under my neck, and as he'd been trained, did not
knead my arms with his sharp claws, but chose the pillow I was laying
on instead.

We had serious quality time together - Henry being content to snuggle
and drool with one of the folks he sees whizzing through the house
every day. The guy who fed him, cleaned his ears, and gave him a soft
place to sleep.

And I cried, thinking about losing him.

To be sure, this is entirely different from having to put a cat to
sleep, or have them struck down by a car or dog. But the sense of loss
is very similar.

Howard, the best cat I've ever loved, merged into the family with only
a few scuffles (Tiger went to the vet with a scratched cornea, which
he healed from, and there-after formed a truce with Howard). But
Howard developed an inscrutable cat-disease after a few years, similar
to Feline Immuno-Deficiency-Syndrome, but not exactly that, which
forced us to surrender him to oblivion. Poor old Howard.

Henry is so close in temperament to Howard. Calm, grateful, snuggling,
and world-wise from his time on the street (he got his name the same
way, when I asked both cats who they were, they told me).

Once, while sitting in a Vet's office, I heard one guy say to another
"when you rescue an animal from the street, they never forget it".
That was true for Howard and for Henry.

Part of the problem with cat-grief, I think, is that these wonderful
little creatures are so human-like, that it's trivial to overlay your
own expectations and feelings on them.. to anthropomorphize them. They
have binocular vision, they learn how to be social with creatures so
unlike themselves, they are independant and thoughtful.

Thank god for Louis the Bengal, who is indeed a domesticated cat but
continues to show the quirky behavior of a wild animal who
unexpectedly finds himself in the company of another species. He's a
great anchor (did you know that Bengals actually smell different than
domestic mutts? At least Louis has a real musky-ferret smell,
something we didn't expect at all). He is the touchstone to remind us
that we are living with another species.

I take some solace that the new home could potentially be so much
better for Henry than our own home, which sports a vengeful, defensive
and threatening little Bengal with a frightened senior-citizen mutt.
Henry'd be the center of attention. He'd have very constant
companionship. He'd be well cared-for. But by god, I'd miss him.

BLink



Nooo! KEEP Henry. You were meant to be together.


Thanks for the good wishes, but it's been six months, and Louis is
relentless in his anger toward this new usurper..


Well, you are just more mature than I am. And it is hard to see the
pain in your post and accept that it must be.


 




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