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> Do You - Did You - Have A Pet?, Tell us about the wee character here
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TeeHeeHee
post 6th Feb 2009, 09:32pm
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Oh boy, PENNY

, that was not easy !!!
but now you've met the cat who knew no fear. He of the evil eye.
Loved him tae bits so a did.


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
― Joseph Heller, God Knows
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penny dainty
post 7th Feb 2009, 04:08am
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off to see The Maus as we speak biggrin.gif


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TeeHeeHee
post 8th Feb 2009, 05:19pm
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HAVE A PET
The Continuing Story of Old Maus: Part 2. The Gypsy.
I know you folks like a good pet story. Here's the story of the Gypsy. WARNING: get your hankies ready.
Like the Old Maus, Gypsy strayed to us.
We have had at times upwards of 7 cats on any given day come across our balcony looking for something to eat..the balcony being about half a meter above garden level and open plan so to speak... some came and went after a summer, some came for years and years. But Gypsy came during a time when the Old Maus was the terror of the neighbourhood and other cats only ventured onto the balcony at night when the Maus was safely locked in the house (under great protest). When Gypsy first appeared we thought she was only an older kitten and half starved. We püt a dish out for her and refilled it after she'd gobbled it all down. A full can of food in no time. Then she ran off but not much later was back again and finished off another full can, always checking behind her, nervously, between mouthfulls which she shovelled into herself. Mary said the poor thing must be starving. I thought she must be taking the food somewhere where she has kittens hidden: and I was right.
After a few weeks she turned up with a single kitten who looked the dead spit of "Sylvester" from "Tweety and Sylvester" so that was his name. Gypsy was a tortoiseshell colour. We found out that a woman who bred cats had turned her out...not good enough to sell, she also turned Gypsy's mother out - no longer producing nice enough looking kittens. ( she didn't last long outside, having been a pampered indoor cat). A few more weeks further on and Gypsy ventured, very carefully, into the house. We had to keep the balcony door open and the fly net too. Sylvester never stayed more than a minute or so and Gyps always sat on the back of the couch facing the door or on the back of the chair nearest her escape route. Later still she more or less showed Sylvester that he should make his own way in the world altho' he came by now and then but Gyps had decided to stay around here with the intention of maybe moving in.
This was not easy for her because the Maus was still King Dick around her and tollerated No other cats, dogs or strangers on 2 legs in his territory but her visits increased and the duration of her visits too.
One morning we found her on the balcony in a pool of blood. The balcony has a green grass effect carpet (about 15 square meters) and it's half protected from rain and snow by the balcony above us which is Mary's mum's part of the house, Brother lived in the attic part. Snow lay every where else. The trail of blood started out in the street where she had obviously been hit by a car and led across the yard and up a flight of 5 steps to the kitchen door and back out onto the street where it went to a lamppost on a corner by our hedge . The garden is half a meter higher than the pavement level and there's a hole at the base of the hedge hidden behind the lamppost which is the cats entrance to the garden. The trail led through here to the balcony.
We took her quickly to the vet before going to work. The vet rang Mary in her office to tell her she couldn't handle the cat but a friend of hers in Switzerlasnd could but it would run to 1800 Swiss.
Mary rang me to ask what we should do. Technically she wasn't our cat. I said honey we have no real choice. I'd followed that trail of blood in the snow and had seen what an effort that wee cat had made to get to us for help. We have to go ahead. Gypsy's pelvis was broken. We saw the x-rays that night at our vet's. Imagine looking down, cat on it's belly. the pelvis is like an H with two cross bars in the middle. they were all broken and displaced. The x-rays after were like a technical drawing. Every thing back in place with plates and screws holding it all together. When we brought her "Home"... choice now... she dragged her rear right leg behind her when walking and we called the vet again. "If she doesn't get that sorted out, and soon, she'll have to have the foot amputated" was what we were told......................
.............................................................................. Mary has just called me for our evening meal we're+ one hour here to be continued .....if you want
tomi


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
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TeeHeeHee
post 10th Feb 2009, 01:16am
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WEE GYPSY: Part II.

Imagine dragging the back of your hand along a surface: this was how Gypsy was dragging her rear right paw. After the vet informed us of what would happen if she continued like that Mary got straight to work. She followed Gypsy step for step and moved her back leg for her, swinging it outwards and forward each time in cadence with the other legs. Sometimes I helped but generally I was there to keep the old Maus away from her. During the day, while we were at work, we left food on the bacony for him and left him outside although it wasn't neccessary to leave food for him but if it was there maybe he'd leave the birds alone.
Within 3 days Gypsy had got the hang of it and could swing her leg out and forward on her own. When Spring settled in we were hard pressed to convince folks that her pelvis had been literally shattered only two months before. She could fly up garden walls and climb our cherry tree like nothing had ever happened too her.She was everybody's darling, with the exception of the old Maus. He gave her such a hard time but no one kept her in: she was staying of her own free will. Her favourite position was to lay on Mary's, or my, chest and just dribble drops of slabber all óver us while purring like crazy. This was difficult for Mary: womens chests being more sensitive to the scratching that accompanies the digging in of claws that is part of the purring process.
But sometimes while watching telly we might here her coughing or wheezing asthmatically from the little hammock where she curled up often and dash to her to find the Maus close by just menacingly glaring at her. We frequently had to take her to the vet and she would put Gypsy in an oxygen tent for several times a day over a 2 or 3 day period.
I called her Mary's wee shadow. When Mary was in the house you never had to ask where Gypsy was. It followed her every where; bedroom,bathroom,kitchen,garden, you name it.
Mary had a little cat
the colour of her hair
and every where that Mary went
you'd find wee Gypsy there.
Sylvester met his maker before he'd lived out his first year. Car got him too.
By the time Gypsy was about a year and a half with us it was the old Maus's turn. He'd chased a cat out the yard, summer evening, and a neighbour parking his car had dragged him a couple of meters under a wheel. The Maus was 23/24 at this time and although I rushed him to an animal infirmary I was prepared to have him put down but the guy on late shift insisted he couldn't do that and the doctor would look at him in the morning and decide. Wouldn't even let me take him back home that night .They actually have german laws about such things: animal protection laws.
The Doctor (vet) called Mary at work the next day to say the Maus could be saved but the leg would have to go. She was terribly upset and not knowing which way to go she gave him the Ok.
Mary catches the odd fly in the house with a beer mat under a glass and turns them out into the garden, got me doing as well so the expression "Wouldn't hurt a fly" really sums her up. I cannot be accessed during the day or I would have reacted differently, but she could only decide how she did. I went to the Doctor after work and fired into him. He said there were lots of cats and dogs which managed on three legs I said this is a 24 year old, one eyed, one toothed cat who only knows how to bad-ass everything that crosses his path. 3 legs is his ticket out of here for Gods sake. The vet videos all his ops where he shows them to the University classes that he gives in Freiburg, this is why he has the rep. of "never putting a patient down if he can help it." The Maus suffered terribly and for me shamefully for the next 18 months of his life, and Mary and I suffered with him. His life was a misery and a painful endurance.
Gypsy, although wise enough never to trust him even in his crippled state, had a bit more peace now till finally I put the Maus down myself. He had cncer in the tongue. Our own vet came to the house to show me how. I really felt it was my sole responsibilty and it tore me apart. Naturally I did a bit of substance abuse before Ingrid the vet arrived. Mary visited her friend and took Gypsy with her.
For the whole of the next week we watched how Gypsy sneeked around the whole house carefully checking here and there and in all the Maus' special places. After a week she realised he wasn't around. We hoovered every room daily, carpets every where. Then Gypsy seem to go through a metamorphisis. Gone was the wee ever-cautious cat and in it's place was the Queen Bee. Her stature, her carriage, really seemed to alter and she patrolled the place just like the old Maus had done as if she'd learned it all from Him.But she never sat on the bit of the couch where the Maus had laid.
During the time when the Maus was with us we had a visit from 2 friends. One was an American from Fort Worth who'd come over on business. He called in to Bayern to see another friend and they both came then to us. Rodger (the ami) was to sleep in Mary's room, she'd put up with my snoring and join me in my room. Rodger ( the anglo) would sleep here in the computer-room where we have a good cupboard bed. Rodger the ami was a chronic allergic to cats. and we explained that Gypsy only felt safe at night in Mary's room but we'd sort that out. Now Rodger, a perfect gentleman , wouldn't hear of it and agreed to let her in and if it was a bother he'd chase her out.
The next day he rang his wife in texas and was gushing over the fact that he had spent all night with a cat on his bed and absolutely no darned effect. He stroke her when she rubbed against his legs in the living room and was delighted with her. We told him to be careful, she slabbers when excited, but he was Ok.
Mary always said that was just typical Gypsy. She wouldn't do you any harm, like Mary, Just wanted to be loved and left in peace.
Gypsy had 4 perfect years after I buried the Maus, then cancer took her. We operated but it went to the bone. We tried every thing. she was only 8. But we had to give in. Again the vet came to the house but at the moment of truth I chickened out. The Old Maus was almost 26 when he went. a bad-ass who'd had a good long life, except the last 18 month, but Gypsy was a wee softie and I told the vet through sobs "ingrid you're gonna have to do this" " I knew that before I came in Tomi"
The house was so empty after that and Mary was taking it really hard. She'd lost her wee shadow. And you miss the wee question mark going round the coffee table. 2 weeks later I said to Mary " Right, animal shelter, get a cat in here" She was reluctant but I pushed the issue.
You wont believe me. We went to the local shelter: nothing. We went to the next town where they have two: nothing. Mary's taking this as an omen. We went right out to Rheinfelden and there we saw Maus2 and agreed to have her, but I was really reluctant about an other one that looked like Maus...and HER name was....Nanuschka , eh? so we had the Maus2 and as we were signing up in came a woman with Charlie (jimmy ?) who was being brought back for the 4th or 5th time. we took him as well and paid for it in spades, he pisses every where ( especially my stuff,ie waterproof watches are not cat-piss-proof, nor are computers or screens - especially the nice flat screens- 2 of ) wants the wall paper changing and terrifies Mausie
So technically it's all back to normal in our house except I cover the screen when I switch off and the computer is behind a glass panel now. But we wouldn't dream of giving any back. they're ours now. We used to sign our cards T.M. Gypsy and the Maus. Now it's T.M.Charlie and the Maus.
Even if you've lost a dear furry family member, and we know how hard that is believe me, get on down to your local shelter. They're crying out for good homes ( for some bad-asses) but nice creatures too. Go ooonnn


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
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Mhoira
post 11th Feb 2009, 09:03pm
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Charlie & Daisy

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TeeHeeHee
post 11th Feb 2009, 11:10pm
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Charlie on the right. Right ?


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
― Joseph Heller, God Knows
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Mhoira
post 12th Feb 2009, 09:57pm
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Yes as you look at the pic Daisy on the left at the edge of the couch and Charlie is on the right . Daisy really hates having her pics taken and always looks / walks away whereas you bring out the camera and Charlie sits and stares at you till you have finished smile.gif He really is a cheeky / cute wee bugger
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TeeHeeHee
post 12th Feb 2009, 10:07pm
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old Maus was the same. You'd have thought the photographer was pointing a gun at him; hence only two pics and the later one I was having to hold him at risk of being maybe scratched at least,

Really nice looking wee dogs Mhoira


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
― Joseph Heller, God Knows
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Mhoira
post 12th Feb 2009, 10:25pm
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I have a sis in law who has a dog too and if you bring out a camera the dog hides and it wont come out to you again for the rest of the time you are there and if you do manage to get a pic she gives you a hard time lol
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stuarty
post 12th Feb 2009, 11:34pm
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aww this is my baby trudie 11years old this year and still got all her teeth and trying to feed her toy polabear awww she even has milk so could be a wet nurse for abandoned puppies but not 13 rotties laugh.gif

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gie me a wee minite
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Mhoira
post 13th Feb 2009, 12:20am
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oh wow that is the type of dog my sis in law has called molly she hates the camera lol
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Elma
post 13th Feb 2009, 05:33am
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When I had my two cats the black and white one, Zoe, would come and stick her nose into the camera so I could only get a picture of here when she was being lazy, whereas Sandy, the big ginger tom (are all ginger cats huge?) would pose as if to say which way do you want me to sit, this way? or should I lie down? unsure.gif I have lots of photos of him laugh.gif
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TeeHeeHee
post 13th Feb 2009, 11:49am
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Talking about your Black and white cat reminded me of another story involving Sancho & Simba, two cats which I shared years ago with another girlfriend.
They were brothers from the same litter Sancho being pure black and Simba being pure white. They only knew life from attic dwellings, first under the roof of a railway station where we lived and then in the attic flat of a three story block of six flats. ( I often took them out with my German Shepherds acting literally as shepherds)
Living in the flat they had access to the roof outside from the kitchen window which they used daily.
The woman in the neighbouring attic dwelling ask us one day if we had a big black and white cat and I told her we have a big black cat and a white cat. (Sancho was big)
No, she said, This was a big black and white cat.
Apparently she had just come into the kitchen in time to see a big black and white cat make off with the steak which she had on the bunker and by the time she got up on said bunker to look out the window the bugger was gone.
I told her she must have seen our two but she wouldn't have it. It was definately a Big black and white cat.
She concluded it must have come from the adjacent building if it wasn't ours.

To come from the adjacent building it would have needed big black and white wings as well.


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
― Joseph Heller, God Knows
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Boydy
post 15th Feb 2009, 02:52pm
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I have a huge mutt called Bobby(8) and three moggies Pebbles(13),Ruby(6) and Holly(4)

This is Bobby


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TeeHeeHee
post 15th Feb 2009, 03:07pm
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I'd bet the moggies are glad you feed bobby


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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.”
― Joseph Heller, God Knows
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