I had a special kitteh. Not special as in the most loving, cutest, most playful… Figaro was literally special. I blame it on being found in a ditch and then kept in a cage at the SPCA for the first eight months of her life causing her brain damage.
After I picked her out of the dozens of other perfectly normal cats in the SPCA, we brought her home and I pretty sure she didn’t stray from the kitchen for the first few years. Did I mention she had a heart murmur? Ya, I would pick out the special cat with a heart condition. She would stare at the cupboards or sleep in the middle of the floor where she was most likely to get stepped on.
After she eventually ventured away from the safe confines of the kitchen, she would sleep in the most bizarre spots like on the arm of the couch, in the middle of the stairs. She was very uncomfortable, and always stressed. This was no good for her pre-existing heart condition.
Figaro monitored the food bowl like it was a personal treasure that she had to safe guard like a soldier with a prisoner of war.
We have this automatic feeder tube because we are a crazy cat family. Figaro would get super stressed out if the food got low in the tube. I mean she wouldn’t leave the tube and wouldn’t stop crying until someone for the love of God and all that is holy filled the tube to the brim. After that she would calm down for about 5 seconds until she found something else to be stressed about.
Her short life ended in an unprovoked heart attack. Go figure.
The End :3
No comments:
Post a Comment