Django for President!

Mr. Gibbons

I really love my cat. We have had him about a year now. He is the strangest cat. He is 22 pounds, has the reflexes of a balloon, and a heart of gold. He got sick Sunday night. While Adam and I watched True Blood (Ah! King Bill is my favorite!), Charlie threw up three times. That isn’t so unusual, he is old and has a sensitive tummy. After True Blood was over we left our projector room in the basement and went upstairs, accidentally shutting Charlie in. We noticed about ten minutes later that he wasn’t upstairs, so Adam went and got him, but not before stepping on a heinously large pile of diarrhea with his bare feet. It was disgusting to say the least, and the smell filled the whole house. Charlie has never gone to the bathroom anywhere but his box, even when trapped in rooms. Adam started to get real worried. It was around 11:30pm, and I called the emergency pet clinic, and they were insistent that we bring him in.

In the ride over there, Charlie was silent. Adam asked him if he was alright, and he sweetly replied with a little meow. I swear he is the strangest cat I have ever known. Charlie was so scared on the cold metal table, I just stood with him and he leaned into me the whole time we waited for the vet. The vet took a look at him, but I doubted his experience with Main Coons. After he said a few things about his size and it being difficult to feel what inside his tummy, I asked if he had treated large breed cats before, he didn’t reply. That was unsettling. He wanted to do X-rays, but they were rather expensive, so we just got him rehydrated and his bum cleaned up from the nastiness.

I have been watching him, and so far he has been right as rain. He is my little lovey cat, and I really hope everything is OK with the little guy. We lost our other cat last October and I just don’t think I could take losing Charlie.

Who’s a Big Bad Lion?

Charlie got his fur shaved today to look like a lion. He loves it. I knew it was time when I saw tuffs of cat fur in the water dish as Django was drinking it. Gross. Now to vacuum and enjoy the time without so much shedding everywhere!

In Memory of Arnold

It has been more than two months since the disappearance of my dear friend and pet, Arnie. It is now time for me to call it what it is, he isn’t coming home. I will admit that his disappearance has depressed and solemnized me. I will be taking his photo from the right hand column off of the blog and begin to move on.

We got Arnie from a friend of mine. Her momma cat had kittens. We actually wanted one of his brothers at first, but the owners didn’t want us to have him, so they pretty much made us take Arnie. He was the adventurous one. Probably the best for what we were getting him for. He was always intended as a pet for our dog Django, rather than a pet for us. Django loves cats. Our house is too small for two dogs, but it was just right for a dog and a cat, plus, I love cats.

He is the one on the left with the white fur collar.

We brought him home and Django was thrilled, Arnie was not. It took him a few days to warm up to the idea that he was Django’s brother, but it came, and soon, it was Django that resisted all the attention Arnie gave him.

Arnie was a loud cat from day one. He meowed all the time, all the time, let me make it clear, all the time. When he was meowing at the loudest volume I have ever heard from a cat, he was purring to even more insane volumes than a normal purr should be. He slept on my head until we finally taught him how to go out at night. We had to close our door to our bedroom to drown out his meow and hope he didn’t hang out under our window. He wasn’t meowing to come back in, usually, it was just meowing. Our house is so quiet now, I hate it.

He ate like a horse, too. He was a small, skinny kitty that ate more than any human being, and when he didn’t have food in his bowl, he would let you know. Once he started going out at night, he started sleeping more soundly during the day. I loved the bother the crap out of him, you know, as revenge. I know he loved it though, he is a cat, and cats love attention.

Django and him were best friends. They would wrestle and snuggle. They would chase each other around the yard. Whenever Django came outside, it didn’t matter where Arnie was, he would come running to meet him.

I loved that little kitty cat. I am really going to miss him. I just wish I knew what happened to him.

Arnie is Missing

My cat, and dear friend, Arnie has been missing since Friday night. I am quite devastated. I just want him to come home. We came home about midnight Friday night from a Halloween party and he ran outside, which is normal since he gets let out every night. Every morning about 7:30 he gets let back in, Adam even sets his alarm on Saturdays so we can get him, because if we don’t he will find a place to sleep all day and I get worried (which hasn’t happened in months). Adam got up Saturday morning, and Arnie wasn’t there. He waited for a while, I got up a few hours later, but still, no kitty. It rained, trick-or-treaters came, but still no kitty. After our Halloween party we went back out looking for him in all his usual spots. Usually if we bring out our dog, Arnie will come running out from wherever he is to come see Django, since they love each other. We stayed up so late, and even when we went to bed we were so worried that we hardly slept at all. In the morning I so believed he would be there, but he wasn’t. I went to both Weber and Davis County Animal Shelters, but nothing. Davis County were so helpful and considerate, Weber has been a little short with me and have offered no programs or solutions. I am a little irked about that. I have been so worried. His food has gone stale in his bowl, we rearranged the furniture for the party with the couch under the window, I know he would love it, so I haven’t moved it back. My dog has been moping around the house. A pheasant in our backyard started to yelp the other morning and it sounded a little like a meow and Django came running out thinking Arnie was home.

Seriously, I have only had him for a year. I just want him to come home.

Charles Duncan Gibbons III

Tags

cat, charlie, maine coon, orange kitty

Awhile back, I talked about getting this big fat cat named Charlie (we think he is a Maine Coon). My dad gave him to my brothers Dustin & David instead. I was quite devastated, but they didn’t have pets and I did, so I gave him up. They added a couple more names to his, gave him a background story, and loved the crap out of him. Dustin is engaged now to a awesome lady who is allergic to Charlie-butt, and so they are kicking out David and Charlie, and moving her in when they get married. Charlie a little bit sooner than David, since they need to get the hair out. We took him in. I was so excited, Arnie, our kitty, and Django, our dog, were so excited. You could see the dreams of friendship in little imagination bubbles above their heads. Charlie didn’t have a beautiful imagination bubble above his head. He was too busy hissing and plotting to hide away in the first chance he could get. Don’t believe me? Look:

He is a punk. All he does is hiss and growl at them. Later that day he ran downstairs and huddled in a dark dirty corner. After a day of that we went to the carpet down there, and started eating. He lashes out and attacks Django when he gets too close. Arnie pushes his luck, since I think he really wants to lick his really long fur. Charlie came upstairs one day, probably wondering why dinner was late getting to his bowl, and Arnie wanted to see how close he could get to smelling and licking him:

About a half a minute later, Charlie found out and screamed, swiped at Arnie, and ran downstairs. He is such a jerk. I even used him as an object lesson in church. I said that Charlie chooses to be afraid and resist new friends, and that leaves him in a dark basement, pissed off, and so upset that he throws up his food. But if he would just relax and get to know the people around him, then he could be upstairs, happy, and clean from Arnie’s little tongue. Sometimes we are like this, too. I think some of the ladies in my class totally understood, because they opened up a bit to the other ladies in their groups.

I have this facebook album about his first visit outside, you can experience it with him by clicking on this photo below:

Click here for the full album

David might take him when he gets his new place, and I hope he does. He is an old cat, and isn’t making it easy to coexist in our tiny house if the other animals are not allowed near. He is super cute, and very lovey, but he just doesn’t get along with Django and Arnie.