Why I'm Not a Mother

So I accidentally stepped on Ms. Pukesalot’s tail last night while I was preparing her food last night. Hard. One of those moments where I start to place my foot down, realize there is an inevitably present piece of feline anatomy beneath it, and shift my weight to another location. Unfortunately, I miscalculated and ended up shifting my full weight directly onto her tail.

So, my precious darling now associates food with having her tail stopped on. I open up a can of her food, she runs and hides. I covertly open up her food while she’s out of the kitchen, and sit on the floor with her bowl to feed her manually (which, as you might recall, is the only way she’ll eat), she runs and hides. I walk into the kitchen, she runs and hides. I say the word “hungry”, she runs and hides.

Of course, when I’m engaging in an activity that has nothing to do with food, she comes right out and demands attention. So… I have now resorted to packing a syringe full of food, then taking it with me to some non-food endeavor, waiting for her to come near, then quick stuffing it down her throat and hoping it doesn’t upset her enough to puke it up. After which, she stalks away in a huff with her little ears back, as if… well, as if I’ve just stomped on her tail. And hides.

Now, let me explain something about the syringe. I had to learn how to feed her with one over a month ago. At various points in her sickness, she would eat nothing voluntarily… even via hand-feeding. Plus, her home antibiotics have had to be administered via syringe… albeit mixed with food, ensuring the most success in keeping it down. That was two weeks of liquid antibiotics mixed with baby food. Then after it became evident that they didn’t do a damn bit of good, and three days of in-hospital IV antibiotics, I am now giving her another two weeks of meds in pill form… crushed, of course, and mixed with canned food in a syringe. Up until the tail-stomping incident, she’d fuss a bit during the procedure, but once the food was down her throat, she’d be just fine and ready for the next item on her kitty agenda. It was hardly an occasion for huffiness.

I sincerely hope this is just a phase she’ll get over… soon. But in the back of my mind is the incident when some unknown kitty horror spooked her while her sister (one she’d grown up with) was next to her, and she somehow associated the spook with the cat… and promptly attacked her. She now can no longer be in the same room with her sister without snarling and attacking her. Her sister now lives with my folks.

Amway, I’m taking a sabbatical from cat-ownership today. I just don’t have the time to lure her out of hiding just to trick her into eating, over my lunch hour.

I’d sigh here, but I honestly feel more like growling.