There’s just something about orange tabby cats.
This is one of the cats that owns us. He has issues. He came here as a 6-week-old kitten named Sun Muffin. His previous owner was a young hippie girl. Kids renamed him Simba, thank you Walt Disney. He also answers to Fat Cat or BFK, Big-Fat-Kitty. We believe that if he could talk he’d sound a bit like Edward G. Robinson: “Meow, see! Meow.” He loves to suck on blankets, the softer the better. He has a nasty ear condition that causes non-cancerous tumors to grow in his ear canals. He’s had surgery on both ears, which is why they look all floppy and wrinkled. Poor kitty.
Until last week he weighed in at 18 pounds. While kids and I were away at camp, Fat Cat stopped eating. He lost 5 pounds in a week, wouldn’t come into the house, absolutely refused to be social. He’s 13 years old now and I know he’s getting on up there in years. Hubby warned me that BFK was not feeling up to par, but when I got home and saw him it scared me, badly. The last orange tabby we had, Chester, died at about the same age, of kidney failure. Fat Cat looked as sick as Chester did the last day I saw him.
I had nightmares last weekend about Fat Cat dying. We dreaded taking him to the kitty doctor Monday, but knew we should, at least to find out what was killing him and how to make him comfy.
Right this minute, Fat Cat is curled up on the back of the couch next to Hubby’s head, sleeping like a, well, a cat. This is after he kept Hubby up most of the night last night squirming around, moving from sleeping on Hubby like he was a tree limb or something, to sleeping on his pillow, on my pillow, between us, on our feet. He’s feeling much better now, thank you. Turns out he had a nasty mouth infection, probably from eating something icky that only a cat would eat, like maybe a dead bird. He might be fat, but he can still catch a bird, or a snake, or a mouse, or a…whatever.
The kitty doctor says that, since Fat Cat isn’t a kitten anymore, we should probably feed him only yummy soft cat food. Fat Cat is happy. We’re happy. All’s right with the world.
I think the cat went out looking for something nasty to eat so we’d have to resort to giving him the good stuff from now on.