Typical Cat Bullshit

I haven’t written in a few days because I’ve been beside myself with worry.

That Fucking Cat went missing!

I hadn’t seen her since early Saturday when I was returning from my morning walk with Blue when I heard a racket overhead in the trees and a squirrel dropped to the cement right in front of me.

A split second later That Fucking Cat fell right where the squirrel did. They both scurried off instantly so I assumed that everything was okay.


I was even a little amused. She’s never been very agile. She eats shit half the time when she’s trying to jump onto the counter.


It was such a busy weekend (big pole dancer party but I need some time to edit the video from that epic evening so you’ll have to wait until the boys are in camp again) so it wasn’t until Monday that I realized that I hadn’t seen her in a while.

These parties are very distracting and she would hide with all these people around anyway.

These parties are very distracting and she would hide with all these people around anyway.

I checked all the usual places, the boys’ bunks, etc, but she wasn’t there. That’s when I started to worry.

I canvassed the neighborhood with posters and Testiclese and I went door-to-door with a photo of her.


“Have you seen my kitty?” he asked. It was enough to break your heart.

I got a lot of calls from people who had seen her prior to her disappearance and I was filled with optimism about the human race that anyone would even bother calling.

Loony, Tabby and I walked around early in the morning when it was quiet and still to listen for her jingling collar and baby meow.

By this morning I assumed that she was gone forever. I’ve never had a cat go missing and then come back.

She’s pretty slutty popular with the neighbors and I thought that someone might be stupid enough to take took her.

I noticed that this morning it was exactly the same temperature inside as it was outside, always an omen full of portent.


I make up my own superstitions.

For as much as I trash talk my cat, I really do love her. I even wistfully looked at an unmolested case of toilet paper wished she was there to shred the shit out of it.

The good old days.

The good old days.

To get our minds off of her, I packed up a big picnic lunch and loaded the boys into the car to spend the day at Rocky Mountain National Park.

It's named after my kid!

It’s named after my kid!

Scrotus forgot his sweatshirt and as I bounded up the stairs to the door, I heard her cry.

I found her under the porch where we had looked many times. I’m certain that had she been there the entire time, I would have heard her. She must have found her way back home.

I couldn’t get her to come out, not even with canned cat food. She refused to moved at all.

“Typical cat bullshit,” I thought to myself.

Loony unscrewed the lattice so I could get to her. She shrieked when I picked her up.

fucking cat


We knew that something had to be wrong with her and immediately took her to the vet.

Blue watches over her as we wait.

Blue watches over her as we wait.

At the vet she got the once over by the tech. She was so uncomfortable that she actually clawed her way back into the cat carrier.

She loves the carrier, thank goodness.

She loves the carrier, thank goodness.

The vet couldn’t find anything wrong with her legs so we opted for x-rays.

Off to get her x-rays. She had to be sedated to get good images, she was in so much pain.

Off to get her x-rays. She had to be sedated to get good images, she was in so much pain.

We could hear her screaming from the other room. It broke my heart. I was glad we left the boys at home so they didn’t have to hear her.

Her pelvis is fractured in three places.

Her pelvis is fractured in three places.

It turns out that she has a broken pelvis, at least three fractures. One option was surgery that would run $2000-$3000, maybe more.

I love my pets but I can’t spend that kind of money on a cat when children, actual people, need surgery.

Fortunately the vet said that she would likely heal entirely on her own.

So it’s eight weeks of mandatory kenneling. It totally sucks. She has to stay in a kennel at all times to discourage her from moving around, jumping, twisting, etc.

It’s going to be a long two months.

Enjoying breakfast in bed in her 2x3 foot mini-manse, courtesy of Stephanie.

Enjoying breakfast in bed in her 2×3 foot mini-manse, courtesy of Stephanie. (Thank you Stephanie!)

But at least she’s okay. She is so happy to be home, doped up on pain killers, with a belly full of food and perhaps the only rest she’s had in days. She’s already started with the extra loud nuisance purring.

I don’t know how she managed to survive so long and to even make it home. I’ll bet she hung on just to annoy Moneypenny. I’m still getting my Norwegian Forest Cat.

Loony handles her gently while housekeeping (me) cleans up her mansion.

Loony handles her gently while housekeeping (me) cleans up her mansion.

The vet is the most concerned that her lower GI tract will be disrupted by the break, but she’s been pooping and peeing without any problem (and having a good old time flicking litter everywhere) so we can stop worrying about that.

Poop on, little one.

I just want to kiss her fucking face!

I just want to kiss her fucking face!

I’m so glad she’s back, not just because of all of the crying (Loony has been a mess) but because even though she’s That Fucking Cat, she’s my Fucking Cat.

Don't you ever worry me like that ever again!

Don’t you ever worry me like that ever again!


16 thoughts on “Typical Cat Bullshit

  1. I’m so glad you found her and that she will get better. My cat fell off a balcony and broke her back leg. One vet wanted $3000 to fix it. The vet I finally chose said, $350 to amputate, $700 to save it. He said the first vet had written the book on fixing these kinds of breaks and I told him, “Well, I bet you read the book, so I think you can do it.” He was an enormous man with fingers the size of sausages, and our cat was very small and the broken bones were the size of toothpicks. But he did the job and though she couldn’t jump very high afterwards, she lived a long and full life. Here’s to our resilient cats!

    • I’m going to have her x-rays sent to my regular vet to see what he has to say. But if surgery is involved, it will likely be a lot. Stephanie used to work at a fancy vet clinic that did that type of orthopedic work, she says its a fortune. I hope TFC makes a full recovery and takes on a new career as lap cat.

  2. I was so glad to hear you found her! We lost our cat Gizmo for about 3 days last fall. Brian was sure a coyote got him and we were really bummed. Both cats use the dog door so we knew he would’ve come home if he could. I kept telling his brother Otis to go out and find him. On the 3rd night I was turning off the lights for bed when I heard him meowing at the front door. He was visibly shaken and we still have no idea what happened.

    The funny thing was that I picked him up and started to close the front door when I heard another meow. I re-opened the door and Otis came trotting in. I fully believe he finally found his brother and brought him home 🙂

  3. I am glad to hear That Fucking Cat is back and being snuggled when she isn’t caged. I think you should set a roll of toilet paper just out side of her reach so she can look at it and think about how she could be shredding it if she hadn’t taken her little sabbatical.

  4. why do they just think they can waltz in and out, create havoc, be fed and leave without a word… wait… seems like some people in my life I am glad they’re not around anymore! Miss you!

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  6. That fucking cat!!! Holy shit. And what a poor little thing moving around with a cracked pelvis?! Bet she never chases a squirrel again…So happy to hear you found her and that she’s safe and will be healing OK. Good luck with the 8 weeks in a kennel!

    • I hope she never chases a squirrel again but it would be totally typical of her to get better and then run out and do it again. I’m no fortune teller but I am 99% sure that the end will be “Death By Squirrel” for her.

      The kenneling is going okay, it doesn’t hurt that she’s on kitty morphine. It’s more like an opium den right now.

      I’m feeling a little light headed from modifying a small plastic tub with a knife I heated over the burner. Oh, the fumes! But her litter situation in there is a mess. She can’t step into a high box so I was using a disposable lasagna pan. It’s better now with the higher walls even though I had to pay the price of brain cells to get there.

      I can add kitty housekeeper to my list of accomplishments. I have to keep her “mini manse” (I’m stealing that term from you) in tip top condition.

      • You are a fab mom to That Fucking Cat. Keeping her mini manse in tip top condition must be a nightmare!

        Sorry to hear about your loss of braincells concocting a suitable litter pan – I know the feeling (of losing braincells, not solving a litter pan situation).

        If there’s any kitty morphine left when she’s back to chasing squirrels, please send my way – New Cat could use a dose.

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