Archive for the animal lovers Category

Let’s Barf Some Rainbows

Posted in animal lovers, anxiety, depression, pet therapy with tags , , , , , , , on October 1, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Not yet 10 a.m. and I have already hung a load of laundry out to dry, washed my bedding, bathed, put on clean clothes and bothered with a hair clip and earrings. I didn’t even have a bad sleep night. I did wake up a lot but all in all…I stayed up til 11 p.m. which makes me wonder if maybe early bedtime just isn’t what works best for me. It also occurred to me that one of the worst things for me has always been…waking up. It was always so much easier to just stay awake and survive on a couple hours of sleep. Slowing down is the enemy, at least til I run on empty a few days and crash hard from exhaustion.

Spook and I watched 0-1-1 together last night. Watching TV with her is misery. She never shuts up and she starts shrieking during the tense scene then runs to the other room and it’s like…chill, dude. Then I watched Prodigcal son (one of the best new shows of the season, second only to Emergence) and lousy mom I am, I let her watch it with me. Yeah, yeah, serial killer show for a ten year old near bedtime, bad mom, but…that was my childhood and I survived. I know it’s all fake and I have impressed that upon her. I think the true monsters are just average people with evil in their blood.

Speaking of evil in the blood…I started watching season 3 of The Good Fight and omg, there was this scene that made me laugh and cheer. It’s where Christina Baranski’s character is laying in bed with her ballistics expert husband who went on a hunting trip with Eric and Donald Trump jr so he had a hella bruise on his shoulder and he signed an NDA so he couldn’t tell her which one shot him. And she is laying their awake, staring at that buckshot bruise, and it turns into Trump’s face and voice and she is just livid and filled with self righteous dread and it was just…hysterical.For a drama.

And to brighten everyone’s day…how about I barf some rainbows in the form of cat pictures of our 4 week old kittens.


This is Eclipse


This is Ember.


This is Sage.


And Pasha.

Now I am gearing up for a trip to town. Little nervous that my money hasn’t come in but technically, it isn’t due til the third, I just have direct deposit debit so it’s usually there 2 days early. Maybe after 1 p.m. Still, we are down to three sheets of toilet paper so a trip to town is necessary. That and my script refills, geesh, if they send me one more reminder text I am gonna have to throttle them, I get it already.

My kid starts the local church God’s Kids afterschool program today. She went last year but my brother was involved so he took her and brought her home. This year, since he works 15 hours a week, he is too exhausted to be involved so I arranged for the bus driver to drop her off by the church and she begged me to let her walk home before it gets too cold and dark too early so…I am cutting the apron string but I don’t like it. It plays hell on my anxiety. The teen years are gonna be my undoing. For now…I’ve got to start letting her grow up a bit. Unless she screws me over and lollygags around town cos her friends do then we are going to have war. Anything that prolongs my anxiety means war.

I shall leave you with this adorable image I found on Google cos Spook asked me to email her something.

P.S.
Do not try this at home kids, but if my mood seems to be improving…it is because I quit Zoloft and switched to my Prozac stash. It’s too early to tell for sure but the fact I am no longer wishing for death every morning and night…I’d say it’s an improvement. Again, always talk to your doctor before doing anything of this sort but then again, if your doc won’t listen, like my NP…Yeah, don’t do as I do, I am a terrible example. But…I am feeling a little better so I will take it and if I am wrong…I will do a mea culpa later. Happy Tuesday 🙂

WTF Kind Of Monster Gives Thumbs Down To A Cat Who Has Survived Cancer????

Posted in animal lovers, depression with tags , , , , , on June 7, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I WAS going to do a relatively upbeat post with a few funny pictures, an effort to find the silver lining in what is otherwise a nasty hate filled world of injustice that shouldn’t have the right to devour small joys.

Then my sister texted me and said they posted their cat fundraiser on a couple of movie forums…and A BUNCH OF ASSHOLES CLICKED THE THUMBS DOWN BUTTON!

WHO THE FUCK DOES THIS?

The cat survives a house fire that killed 9 of her feline friends, now she’s basically been gutted and maimed to remove all of the cancer, and all my sister is trying to do is raise $300 measly dollars to get Smitty to the vet next week for suture removal.

What kind of monster gives this a thumbs down?

People really can be shitty. What angers me even more is that as it’s turning out, my idget nephew and brother in law are being proven right that no one cares and attempting a fundraiser is pointless and stupid.

Come on, people! Clicking like and ‘share’ cost you NOTHING, NOT A DAMN DIME. You just share the story and let others check it out and make a choice whether to ignore it, share it, or donate.

This is for a very brave cat who has been through an enormous of amount of suffering. I mean, I am even putting my child and myself behind in importance. Schmitten deserves at least a like and a share, do it just to prove my idget relatives wrong. And also, a ‘fuck you’ to those internet trolls who so cruelly clicked the thumbs down ON A CAT FUNDRAISER and made my sister tear up. Just click the pictures, read it, like it, share it. Human decency may be rare these days but I refuse to believe it’s dead.Clicking “Share” costs.you.nothing.

Pet Therapy Ever Help With Your Disorders? Read About A Kitty Breast Cancer Survivor

Posted in animal lovers, depression with tags , , , , on June 6, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Okay, second post about my sister’s cat, Schmitten and their fundraiser. The first post got zero likes and it makes my heart break. I get why people are reluctant to donate to other people asking for money, people are deceptive, greedy lying fucks most of the time.

On this one, I can attest that Schmitten did survive an awful housefire that killed NINE of their cats with smoke inhalation. She is over a decade old, and then she started getting mammary tumors and finally my sister got her to the vet and they did a radical masectomy on the poor cat to remove her mammary glands.

Schmitten before op:

And this is Smitty, AFTER the radical masectomy:

Of course, I’d like OUR fundraiser to prosper but after a month trying to raise money simply to pay the security deposit off and get trash service started, to no avail…

I am okay with diverting attention to Schmitten’s fundraiser. Stitches and staples gotta come out and she needs a vet to do it, but they won’t if sis doesn’t have the money up front.

So if you simply love pets or you have a therapy pet who simply helps you cope with anxiety and depression…Donate if you can, or just spread the pink ribbon campaign on social media. This poor cat has been through hell ten times over and she is still fighting for her life in spite of it all. She deserves your compassion, empathy and help, even if it’s just a social media share. Because, yeah, even cats get breast cancer and deserve to wear the pink ribbon and be supported.

My brother in law and nephew told my sister she was wasting her time doing the fundraiser because “no one gives a fuck about our cat, it’s stupid.” Please please please, prove those idgets wrong. Because while people may be wary of donating to other people due to rampant internet scams and schemes…Schmitten is a real, live kitty who has survive hell, and she is worthy of the respect, empathy, and effort to donate or share her story.

Find it in your heart to just visit the site and read Schmitten’s story and pass it on or donate. My little brother and I pooled change to donate five bucks (of course on my account cos his parents won’t allow him on his own computer due to a years ago social media stalking problem) and that is a start but…If your pet has helped you through tough times and keeps doing so, or you had a beloved pet with potentially lethal health issues…

Think of Schmitten.

And if you have a rebellious bone in your body and a strong dislike for dick-ish people…well, then do it just to prove my nephew and brother in law wrong about my sis wasting her time starting a campaign for her beloved kitty cat. Clicking ‘share’ for social media costs you nothing and hey, it’s for a cancer surviving cat- way more worthy than me and my kid. Not shutting down my campaign because I still think our cause is worthy but if you’re wary of people…

At least consider the pink ribbon cat campaign. That poor cat was maimed with potentially life saving surgery and now they need another couple of hundred for her next appointment to get the sutures and staples removed.

Pets give so much to us, whether we have issues that call for a therapy pet or not.

Show this cat some empathy and support, PLEASE. If Spook and I are willing to put the cat before ourselves and it’s not even our cat…That’s gotta say something. Schmitten needs your help. And a couple of douchey people need to be proven wrong and find out that some people DO care about animals.

My cats have always been my anchor (prior to having a child) so I know how crucial they are for positive mental health. Call it pet therapy, emotional support, calming your psychological demons…

Pets matter, be they dogs, cats, igaunas,snakes, or jellyfish. If it helps you get through the day during your darkest hour and you’ve done all you can to help them…

Then surely you are worthy of some compassion and help (even if just a share) as is your pet.

Show Schmitty Kitty that people do care.

Pink ribbons and breast cancer are not exclusive to human women.

Merci, thank you, and btw, this is a seperate campaign from my own, all proceeds go to my sister toward Schmitten’s vet bills. The only thing I have to gain here is…knowing I fought for my feline niece because she fought so hard to stay alive in spite of her own suffering.

Her strength and tenacity make me want to be as tough as she is. “Just a cat” is not a phrase in our world. Our pets are our family and our emotions toward them run as deep as if they were fellow humans and our own blood.

Schmitten needs you. Share, donate, pass it on by email…She’s a fighter so help her keep fighting.

Thanks, guys.

In Honor of Abby and Arsenic- PLEASE SIGN MY PETITION

Posted in animal lovers with tags , , , on September 5, 2015 by morgueticiaatoms

I have started a petition to draw attention to the high cost of flea treatment for pets, aiming it at the CEO of Merial, the makers of Frontline. I have been so touched by everyone who so generously donated money, time, Facebook shares, Tweets, in my efforts to save Abby-Cat. Please take the time so sign my petition so no others pets have to suffer and no more owners have to have their hearts broken. Size of bank account is NOT the size of our love for our pets.

$21 a tube for Frontline, especially for multiple pet families, is outrageous. While I waited for my check so I could treat my animals, Abby got an abscess from one bite which poisoned her until she passed on. Arsenic was so young his immune system just couldn’t hold off til the money went into the bank.

My pets are now treated, due in part to a small portion leftover from Abby’s fund and me cutting some corners in my budget. I had to treat four cats, which is $84. That’s two weeks of groceries for me and my kid. I shouldn’t have to choose between feeding her or caring for my cats. No one should.

I can’t bring my beloved kitties back but I still have a voice and it is in their memory and honor I plan to use it. Please speak up with me.

 

 

The Abby Cat Fund: Most Recent Update

Posted in animal lovers, biolar disorder with tags , , , , on September 4, 2015 by morgueticiaatoms

No real rant tonight, folks. It’s been 95 degrees today, I am hot and cranky and heartbroken.The current gofundme update on Abby is here.  Thanks to all who have been donating, passing it on, and being really decent to us. It means a lot.

Abby is still in critical condition.Arsenic did not make it, he passed away around 7 p.m. tonight after a valiant fight.   My father stopped by to berate me, telling me I am making my child live in poverty, and pretty much pushed me to the brink after dealing with that vet then losing Arsenic and knowing Abby is touch and go. Rather than deal with it all…I am gonna cryptify and grieve for Arsenic. My cats are far more humane than the idgets called family.

Go gently into that goodnight, my Arsenickers, and find peace knowing you were so loved and always will be….I am so sorry I failed you, Baby.

 

My beautiful picture

How Does Life Suck…Let Me Count The Ways

Posted in animal lovers, anxiety disorders, biolar disorder with tags , , , , , on September 3, 2015 by morgueticiaatoms

09-02-15_Abby at vetFundraiser for Abby’s vet costs still going.

http://www.gofundme.com/qd34kzkc

So, yeah, no sunshine spewage here. This is a pure raw sewage suckage assfuckery ride on the double decker suck bus.And no apologies because sometimes things just plain suck and hurt.

After a long fitful night of giving Arsenic vitamins and trying to keep him comfortable while my kid kept waking up and I kept having coughing fits due to sinus drainage…Arsenic is barely holding on this morning. That’s how my day started out. (Guess you know the vet won’t take on another cat from me so this is agonizing.)

Then I stopped at the vet’s to inquire about Abby. The vet came to talk to me. He said Abby had a rough night and they had been afraid she wouldn’t make it. I was upset already about Arsenic and this put me into tears since yesterday I was given the opposite news. In true human nature, he told me taking care of her was going get cost prohibitive because I brought her in in such bad condition. I mentioned how I tried to get her in five days ago before the abscess even ruptured and he lectured me about my lack of income, my bad credit, a charge off from years ago at their clinic (never mind I came back, after the fact, and paid the whole thing, nope, I’m a credit risk, which is fair enough, but kicking a crying woman like that with financial shit is low.) He suggested I sign her away so she could be fully treated and given to a “better” home. Then he mentioned euthanasia since I can’t afford treatment. Every time a doctor suggests that and I don’t bow down, I feel like a monster, like I am selfish to make her suffer for my own needs. Yet if a parent gives up on a sick child, that’s reprehensible, wtf.

The water works kicked up ten notches when he lectured me on pet ownership being a responsibility, including medical costs, and perhaps I should not have pets if I can’t afford that. He’s damned lucky I am pms-y teary hormonal and not in the rage cycle or I might have hit him with my purse. My big cats are healthy as a team of oxen in spite of the flea epidemic. The fleas are taking out kittens without the adult immune system. My cat has one in as bad a shape as Abby and she has  20 other cats- yes, 20- and the vet she found (she can afford to drive out of town) hasn’t lectured her this way or given up on her kitty. To say I am livid is an understatement. I know that vet was trying to guilt me. Give her a new home, my ass. Second I sign the papers, they’d put her down. LIES.

It’s not gonna happen. Abby is fighting and I am gonna keep fighting. I have conceded defeat enough on all my sick cats. This time…I gotta try. Maybe it makes me selfish and maybe I am a low life for being a beggar and having a fundme campaign.  I just know how much we love Abby and she’s shown this much strength and courage…I’m not giving up until I absolutely have to. I repaid R for the money he put down and they still have his card on file, he seems willing to keep fronting the money for her care, to a certain point, as long as I can pay him back. So if she’s got fight in her…I’m fighting for her. Dammit, they let me see her for ten seconds this morning as she was mid treatment and she purred under my touch and stared up at me and…I can’t give up. I can’t. I won’t. If whatever deity exists deems it her time to go, fine. But if she’s fighting..I am fighting. Besides. We don’t give up treating humans when it’s cost prohibitive and they may not live. No, euthanasia is wrong for humans yet the go to for pets. And it’s not fucking right.

He made it clear even if she does survive and get stronger I can’t bring her home til my other cats and home have been treated for fleas. I have flea bombs but the $21 each for Frontline for four cats…Damn. This doctor is an ass. I am betting wealthy people don’t get treated that way. Bet he’d want to take my kid away because I am broke and unfit.

I hate people. I love people. Actually, it’s not that complex. I LOVE human kindness, creativity, humor, loyalty. I fucking loathe assholes. Relocate me to a place where the good outnumber the assholes, my attitude might improve.

So that’s been my morning, and it’s only 10 am-ish. I  put up a flyer for the fund at the gas station this morning. I even got the email addy of a cashier I know and she’s active on Facebook so she is going to pass it on. For me to open myself up this way to people, who scared the shit out of me, has to speak volumes as to how much Abby is loved. I’m not making it about me (except being offended by the foul attitude toward my limited income). I’ll rip out my still beating heart for her at this point. My life has become a cesspool of depression and anxiety and so much has just slipped through my fingers.; Some days, I can’t even remember if I made sure my kid had her shoes on when I dropped her off. I’m a trainwreck and it just keeps piling up. Which I suppose is the balance because I had a few months were things were calm-ish and I was just drowning in my normal depression and anxiety. Throwing all this on top, though, has really broken me down. Though I wonder if I’d be this weepy and fragile if it weren’t horrormonal pre-game.

I think the worst part of it all is, the nurse I spoke to yesterday gave me one report, then another one gives me the complete opposite. Making my joy and elation deflate like a balloon pricked with a damned foot long needle. FACTS, people. Get your shit straight before giving false hope. And stop making me feel monstrous. There are people training animals to fight to the death, people starving their pets. My biggest crime is being poor and having shit credit. I’m obviously the leader of the satanic pegacorn brigade, out to destroy sweet kitties with my sin of poverty.

Ass trash.

I got that new Safelink phone. Spent an hour on hold waiting for a live operator yesterday.Got one with this squeaky accented voice I couldn’t understand. My kid decided to have a screaming mimi then and there when I finally got a person. The woman took forever setting up my phone. And I gotta call them back today because they said I had to make a call to activate it…yet it won’t let me make a call because it’s not activated. What the fuck? Another hour on the phone? Fuck. And I tried their callback service. I got my callback. And the bitch hung up on me. I hadn’t said anything but hello.

About the only things that have been remotely positive is the fundraiser at least netting enough for my to repay R. I don’t know what to do about the rest, but if he’s willing to go so much as long as I repay it…I’ll figure it out even if worrying gives me an(other) ulcer. He even let me off for the thirty bucks I owed him for cat food, gas, and that new phone. (Yeah, the phone was under eight bucks with shipping, so not like it was that pricey.) I am learning a new appreciation for his friendship. I still can’t stand the fact that I’ve listened to him prattle on for hours this week about his fight de jour with the missus yet I try to talk about my shit and he just shuts me down and starts on his own shit again. That’s completely shitty but not exclusive to him. He’s been a good friend. Of course, I’ve been an amazing ex girlfriend, considering his sole reason for breaking up with me was my mood swings. Cos I totally asked to be bipolar, it’s awesome. Call it a draw,we’re both awesomely flawed.

I’m taking him lunch today as a thank you. Not that I remotely want to be around anyone because I can’t seem to turn off the waterworks for more than a couple of minutes at a time and the sinus shit is miserable. (Yet I think of poor Abby and wanna slap myself for complaining.)

I drew up some papers I am gonna drop at the superintendent’s office regarding the bus situation. I tried to let it go, but when my stomach churns daily to the point of throwing up because of the gridlock pick up…Yeah, I want an explanation, I am due that much, considering Mapquest declares both routes over the 1.5 mile requirement. I tossed in the word “discriminatory” because I’m just that irked.

Oh, to irk me further…The child support paperwork came back to me. Not as in returned, but mailed back the exact same papers to fill out again. This is their idea of efficiency? No wonder this state is fucking broke. GRRRR.

I’m sure I could rant some more but I’m not gonna. I am gonna make up a flyer for Abby’s fund and print a few out at the shop. Lots of places in town have corkboards for people to place ads and business cards. I’m not done fighting for Abby by a long shot. Though I wonder if that evil fuck of a doctor won’t euthanize her and tell me she died because he’s afraid of not getting his precious money. If she comes out of there ok…I am soo changing doctors even if I have to sell plasma for gas money to get there.

Anyway…That is all.

 

Deflated, Defeated, and Disgusted

Posted in animal lovers, anxiety disorders, biolar disorder with tags , , , , on September 3, 2015 by morgueticiaatoms

Days like today serve to remind me why I so loathe and reject the sunshine spewers. That way may work for them but the instant I let myself feel joy, relief, like there was hope…

I get smacked down with a whole new plethora of issues.

I was on cloud nine after hearing Abby had survived the night and was responding well to treatment. I even put on eyeliner, because after a sleepless night bawling and bargaining my life for hers with a God I don’t even believe in because I’ve been offered so little to even spawn a modicum of faith…It felt like for once my prayers had been answered.

I waited and waited for three hours for the promised call from the vet’s office. My panic was paralyzing, figuring if they hadn’t called, it must be bad news. I wanna know. I can’t stand to know. Back and forth. I finally broke down (good thing cos the doctor wasn’t even in today to call me as promised and the office staff didn’t even think to do it, ffs.) Hearing good news and that my balance was within what I could repay to R…I was ecstatic and ready to punch myself for being so negative…

THEN I went to see Abby at lunch. They let me hold her, walk around, talk to her. I was so happy, so filled with love and joy and relief…She looks pretty rough and is still weak, but she knew her momma and she purred…

Then came the kick in the gut.

“The doctor plans on keeping her several more days, she needs surgery for the abscess but she’s not strong enough to survive it right now.”

Then came the estimate which is about two and a half times the initial quote and what the fundraiser gathered. I was incensed, because the woman I spoke with this morning said NOTHING of surgery. She told me Abby was healing and the doctor would give a yay or nay on sending her home tomorrow. Now I’m looking at five days of shelter and surgery and…

WHY WHY WHY? If they’d seen her last week when I begged them to it wouldn’t have gotten so bad this was even needed. What the fucking hell motherfuckers?

R said he won’t allow the charges to his card to exceed what I have gathered which means…if I don’t find a way to come up with the full bill, they’re not gonna give my cat back to me. I don’t know how that is even legal, I left the hospital with a human baby and still owing money, ffs.

Just so fucking frustrating to be fed one story then another and never know what the goddamn reality is. I want Abby healthy and home and I thought I’d managed that with so much kindness from others…Now this dickhead doctor, after giving one quote yet knowing the situation was this dire, gives me an even bigger total. Livid doesn’t begin to describe it and frankly, I’m starting to feel like a low life for even doing the fundraiser. Because the vet gives me one quote, then they change it, then they change it again, then they jack it up…And who looks like a flaky asshole? Right, me, the one who simply wants to keep a beloved family member alive. FUCK.

To make matters so much worse…I returned home to find Arsenic has, in less than 18 hours, gone down the drain. This kitten was up and about yesterday, climbing, yowling, stealing food right out of my hand, so bright eyed and alert…And overnight, he’s now knocking on death’s door. (Exactly how it happened with all his siblings, which makes me wonder if it was due to them being a first litter and sibling inbred at that.)  I just don’t get it. I’ve given him vitamin drops, I scrubbed him with Dawn and picked every flea carcass off with tweezers. I’ve done everything to keep this cat alive.

It makes me wonder if this is the balance- Abby lives, Arsenic dies. Voodoo vanishes, Willow returns after three weeks MIA only now she barely wants anything to do with us.

My life is unstable enough without all this shit. I am so sick of opening myself up only to get my heart smashed.

Optimism make work for some people.

For me, it’s like deliberately choosing to walk a tightrope with poor balance and no net. The tiniest thing can tip me over and SPLAT. Today proved that. Beyond doubt. I dared to sing the praises of happiness and shiny things only to have life backhand me with a concrete fist.

Rather than carry on about it anymore…I am ceding defeat. I am exhausted after being up all night worrying about Abby. I feel foolish for ever letting that shiny happy bullshit into my vicinity because it has caused more damage than good. Reality isn’t shiny or happy most of the time.

Bedtime. Fuck it. Arsenic is dying. Abby is alive. And I’m soo financially screwed it ceases to even be par for the course. All because I dared to be optimistic, to have faith, to feel joy. If I’d just kept my healthy cynicism and wariness I wouldn’t be going down this rabbit hole.

Damn it all to hell.

This is the pic I snapped of Abby when I saw her today. I gotta hold onto that much though if the doctor holds her hostage over money…This could well be my breaking point. It ain’t gonna be pretty because this shitty year has rendered me barely human.

09-02-15_Abby at vet

The green is her abscess wound bandage. She looks rough but damn…she’s got spirit. She deserves a better human than me.

Oh, damn it, tears again…Stupid hormones and emotional attachments…Once again, thinking of that ending scene in Heathers…Blow it all the fuck up, light a smoke, and walk away.

Shiny happy, Morgue style.