I AM the Crazy Cat Lady!!!

I love animals.  That's all there is to it.  Especially the fuzzy defenseless animals.  The cute abandoned, sad, needy animals.  The pitiful, big eyed, forgotten animals.

When I was a kid we always had dogs, Brittany Spaniels (as they were called "back in the day."  They now go by the name "Brittanys."  Very Cher/Madonna/J-Lo of them.)

Misty was my first dog, a brindle Brittany Spaniel - unfortunately you don't see many brindled around any more.  She was an outside dog, but she had a house with carpet and a blanket door and straw in the winter so it was ok.  She was so calm, so laid back.  She never jumped on me and she was just the nicest dog.  She hunted also - kinda pointed/leaned toward prey - and she always smelled like lilacs cause her house was in a lilac bush.  She passed away of old age... so sad.

Then when I was 5 or 6 we got another Brittany... Rusty.  He was rust and white and a boy.  I named him.  So original!!  He was a jumper and scared me until I got taller.  My biggest memory of Rusty was that he had the talent.... skill?.... to pee himself out of his cage.  That dog could pee 24/7.... ironically he died of kidney failure.  :(


Then we had a long dogless dry spell.  Finally we got a yellow lab named Candy.  Candy was my first inside dog.  What a revelation!  It was fantastic!  We taught her to stay in two rooms downstairs and she also became my dad's hunting dog.  I loved her!  You could lay on her, play tug, hold her... the nicest dog ever.  She had a stroke at the age of 11 and had to be put down.  It was one of the few times I've seen my parents cry.  I can't find a picture of Candy and that makes me sad.

A few years later we got Aggie.  A HUGE yellow lab she was also an amazing dog.  Hunter, pillow, blanket, you name it.  She also had this weird little hair thing going on on her forehead where the hair grew backwards.  She survived a torn ACL and bad hips.  She lived to be 10 which is amazing for how huge she was.  I miss her.



When I moved out of the house I felt lonely and went to the shelter to find the perfect dog.  I found him and named him Buddha.  A great dog, we were together about 10 months before I had to give him away.  A large dog in an apartment just wasn't working.  Add to that the fact that we had to go down umpteen steps and leave through two locked doors - it wasn't working.  I felt terrible... like a failure.  I'll never forget my friend Jimmy telling me not to feel bad, and that pet ownership was like dating:  "sometimes you have to break up with them for everybody to be happy."  Buddha and I broke up and it was a couple of years before I tried the dog route again.  I hope he's happy running around in a great big house with a great big yard.

Then... along came Zoee.  My sweet tiny Shih-Tzu!  She's litter box trained, sleeps with me, and is so damn cute!!!!!  She is sort of my Doggie/Kitty.  I never had a cat or a small dog so it was all a learning experience.  She doesn't shed either which is WAY cool!  She's 6 now but because she's so small she looks younger.

Then... it happened.  Jennifer knew of someone with a litter of kittens. I was excited but a little scared.  My biggest fear was that Zoee would hate me and run away from home!  So, after much thought and much stress, I got Mya.  Sooooooo sweet!  Best thing ever!  And slowly, I moved from being just a dog person to being a cat person.  She's so shiny and fluffy and loving.  She actually likes to be around people and she's not stuck up at all!  Her favorite toys are a paper bag and a fish on a bungee.  She pulls so hard on that thing that the suction cup keeps popping off the door!  She and Zoee had a love/hate relationship for a while.  Zoee hated Mya and Mya looooved Zoee.  :)  Now they are at the point of calm indifference with the occasional beat down.

I thought I was set.  One cat and one dog (oh... I didn't even mention the fish!!  Sushi the beta and Dilly the goldfish!!  Can't forget them!!)  Then, it happened.  I came home from practice one night to see a little cat in the parking lot... so cute and it looked so cold and so alone and it had a wound on its shoulder.  :(  I sat outside for like 4 hours just trying to get it to come to me.  The next day, I deployed food.  Kitty came a little closer.  The third day, I deployed food and tried to get kitty into the airlock... that was a big fail.  Kitty is fast!!  I acquired some battle scars, but kitty got the food and freedom.  Over the next few days I tried to catch kitty with tuna and food and a normal crate and had some help from Jennifer and Dicky.  Then, the plan.  Dicky brought me a live trap and within 6 hours, kitty was captured!  I brought kitty in and started to feed him.... (there was a ball sighting so he is officially a he).  His wound started looking better and he was loving and cuddly and everything was going well.  Then Sunday morning.  His wound looked different... kinda like a blood blister.  Well, it was different.  I picked him up to put him in his cage when suddenly....
 
SpLurT!!!!  PlBbbttTTttt..........

The wound!!!!

That wound exploded!  All sorts of icky came flying out of it... and onto my foot.  My bare foot.  In between the bare toes of my bare foot....  uh...... EW?!  Immediately we rushed to cleaning mode and I called the service and spoke with a vet.  We kept an eye on him and did warm compresses and such.  I have to admit, it was fairly disgusting.  It was gaping and looked like a pouch or a pocket.  So the wait was on to take him to the vet the next morning.  The really sad part about this was that he didn't even have a name yet.  Poor thing... he was called everything we could throw at him.

Next morning, No Name and I were at the vet where it was determined that he needed stitches.  I came back later to get him.... and finally..... after a week of pain and ick and stress and mini animal strife and introduction to the inmate population...

Meet Wallaby - Wally for short.   :)