Cold Comfort

[chromium blues]

Last Saturday I felt off, by Sunday I was definitely sick and by the time I got home from work, I just wanted to pass out. Everything hurt, especially my throat. My room mate said she`d feed the cats in the morning so I could sleep in a bit, so I showered, cleaned litter boxes, and dragged my sorry backside to bed.

Enter Peepbean...

I don`t know if it was the novelty of going to bed at seven o`clock in the evening, or it was payback for all those nights I`ve sat up with him when he was sick, but he stayed with me the entire time. I slept until almost eleven the next morning, and he was curled up beside me with his head on the pillow when I woke up.

Now, waking up with Peepbean on your pillow means only one thing...He starts at the foot of the bed, on the hot water bottle. Over the course of the night, he will poo, move away from it, go back to sleep, poo, repeat...He can`t help it, he doesn`t know he`s eliminating. So by the time he gets up by your head, you know you`re in trouble. So I gave him a pat, and cuddles, and gently put him on the chair so I could sit up and survey the damage. The entire duvet cover (duvet cover over a plastic mattress cover over a comforter, so ``Bean-proofed``), the top of the vari-kennel beside the bed, dotted all over. The floor looked like an ink blot test, and I had to turn sideways to get out the door, and then back in with the cleaner. All with a pounding headache.

All the while, he circled, arced his back, burbled, rubbed, and purred his encouragement. I couldn`t help but laugh.

Its been nearly a week now, and I feel much better. Peepbean has gone back to sleeping on his stuffed bee with his own hot water bottle, coming to bed only when his hot water bottle gets cold and he wants to steal mine. Things have remained relatively clean, considering.

I don`t know why I`m sharing this, really. I`m probably the only person that finds a mess of that magnitude the least bit funny. (His usual morning mess, by the way, is only a few small spots here and there). I guess I just think its sweet that the little guy felt he had to make sure I was okay.

 

[bengalcatman]

What a mess, you can choose to laugh or cry about stuff like that. I like the people who choose laughter best.

The fact that Peepbean (love that name!) saw fit to stay with you when you were ill is a testament to the bond you share: agreed - it is very sweet!

Any chance of a pic of Peepbean sleeping with his stuffed bee?

Eric

 

[bonepicker]

Last Saturday I felt off, by Sunday I was definitely sick and by the time I got home from work, I just wanted to pass out. Everything hurt, especially my throat. My room mate said she`d feed the cats in the morning so I could sleep in a bit, so I showered, cleaned litter boxes, and dragged my sorry backside to bed.
Enter Peepbean...
I don`t know if it was the novelty of going to bed at seven o`clock in the evening, or it was payback for all those nights I`ve sat up with him when he was sick, but he stayed with me the entire time. I slept until almost eleven the next morning, and he was curled up beside me with his head on the pillow when I woke up.
Now, waking up with Peepbean on your pillow means only one thing...He starts at the foot of the bed, on the hot water bottle. Over the course of the night, he will poo, move away from it, go back to sleep, poo, repeat...He can`t help it, he doesn`t know he`s eliminating. So by the time he gets up by your head, you know you`re in trouble. So I gave him a pat, and cuddles, and gently put him on the chair so I could sit up and survey the damage. The entire duvet cover (duvet cover over a plastic mattress cover over a comforter, so ``Bean-proofed``), the top of the vari-kennel beside the bed, dotted all over. The floor looked like an ink blot test, and I had to turn sideways to get out the door, and then back in with the cleaner. All with a pounding headache.
All the while, he circled, arced his back, burbled, rubbed, and purred his encouragement. I couldn`t help but laugh.
Its been nearly a week now, and I feel much better. Peepbean has gone back to sleeping on his stuffed bee with his own hot water bottle, coming to bed only when his hot water bottle gets cold and he wants to steal mine. Things have remained relatively clean, considering.
I don`t know why I`m sharing this, really. I`m probably the only person that finds a mess of that magnitude the least bit funny. (His usual morning mess, by the way, is only a few small spots here and there). I guess I just think its sweet that the little guy felt he had to make sure I was okay.

Why does he poo in his sleep? Is he very old or sick?

 

[chromium blues]

Peepbean is a nickname he's had since he was rescued at five days old. We weren't allowed to name him until he was three weeks old. We called him Montgomery, but usually he gets called Peepbean. He is neither old nor sick. He'll be three in March. He was the only survivor in his litter. Goodness knows what happened to his mum. He was constipated for the first three days we had him, after that, it was like a dam had burst, and that went on for the first eight months of his life. To make a really long and messy story short, it turns out he can't digest fat, and he requires extra fibre, and a very, very plain diet. He's also on a homeopathic drop because he gets gassy, and without the drop, the gas is trapped in his gut and he cries.  He can eat as much dry food as he wants, but the canned has to be monitored. He cannot eat anything other than his food or he gets very, very sick, very very quickly.

However his body did, or didn't develop, during the day he seems to know he needs the litter box, but he has usually gone by the time gets there. Sometimes he makes it. When he's sound asleep, he doesn't know he's going. He can go several days without making much of a mess at all.

For his size, he's a good weight. His fur is soft and shiny, his eyes are bright. He's full of energy and loves to run! He loves catnip toys. He loves to sharpen his claws on his dream curl. He gives nose kisses, head bumps, and rubs against legs. He has a hearty appetite. He knows which of my friends love him no matter what, and which ones would rather he didn't hang out with them. The friend who for the first year and a half of his life called him The Cat Who Shouldn't Be Here, he has no time for. The veterinarian who patiently tried one thing after another to help him, he adores.

I could go on and on about him, and probably do around here.

Unfortunately, I can't post pictures, though I wish I could. The bee was cuter when it was new, and hadn't been sucked on, plucked repeatedly, and washed a million times, but he still loves it.