What's your condition?

Last week I introduced Mimi as a means to point out that having a "young" vet is a positive thing.

This week it's only fair to introduce Mister Delicious to point out that both of our cats are neurotic.


Mr. D and I got to know each other during the Fall of '03. He was maybe a year old and had been neglected by his initial owner, my coworker at the time. Our boss took in the little fella, got him healthy, and called him Fattie. Fortunately for me, she had a handful of pets and was looking for a forever home for "Fattie." I gladly offered to be his Momma and we haven't been parted since.

Mr. Delicious got his name through a combination of girly squeals exhibited by both my mother and me. I had not laid eyes on Mr. D until he was brought to me on adoption day. I instantly fell in love and excitedly drove home to show him off. As I pulled him out of his carrier I squeaked, "He's like peaches and cream! Isn't he just delicious!?" My momma simultaneously squealed "He's gorgeous! He needs a 'Mister' name!" The overlapping squawking from us both resulted in a merge of "Mister!" "Delicious!" and hence it was set in stone. Mr. Delicious was doomed to be a ladies man and have the best name ever invented. (I'm biased, of course.)

Mr. D showed his love for me on the first night he slept in my room. He rolled on his back and exposed his belly, letting me know he was comfortable. He begged for pets and scritches. And he promptly urinated beside my head on my pillow.

I knew we understood each other.

The Big D loves hair. He lays on your pillow and paws and pulls at hair. His favorite toys are dirty earplugs. He only eats out of the left side of his bowl (spin it around and the left side is magically full!). He sits on your chest and stares at your face whenever it's most inconvenient for you. While you sleep he aims his drool drops at eyes, nostrils, and lips. It's really gross and annoying, but I love him. (How could you not?!)

When we moved to California (everything changed in California), Mr. D began to pluck at his fur. I initially thought it was the asphalt dust we tracked into the apartment and tried to keep clean floors and kitties. When we moved into the house I imagined the fur plucking would stop, but it appears from time to time, mostly when he's not being fed what he wants. It's definitely not as noticeable as Mr. D's odd habit of eating weird stuff off the floor, though.

He loves circling little lint balls that appear on the floor, stopping in front of them, making sure I'm watching, and diving in for the kill. This usually results in me flailing my arms and screeching something about weird kitties and their obsessions.

I like to pretend that Mr. D has a condition known as Butthead. Having this particular conditions means the pet knows every which way to drive their caretaker up the wall. Just the other day while Mr. D was helping make the bed, he noticed a lint ball and dove on it like he'd never eaten before. It was weird. I lint-rolled the sheets.
You see, if Mr. D doesn't have the condition known as Butthead, it means he probably has a neurological condition known as Pica. I'd rather he not have a true medical condition and just be the sly fluffernutter that keeps me on my toes.

So, Mr. D, if you're reading this, please continue to eat things only when I'm watching so I can confirm that you do things purely to annoy me and not because something wasn't wired correctly.

Thank you.

An Interesting Case

This is Amelia "Mimi" Earhart. Obviously, she's a bit furrier than her namesake and not so much interested in flying as she is in catching flying things.

Mimi and I were introduced in the Fall of 2003. She was incredibly shy and had scratched off half the fur on her head due to a nerve-wracking home life full of furry bullies. She and I patiently figured each other out while I coaxed her out of the shadows to tend her wounds.

She's now a vibrant, ten pound kitty that's as dark as night with strong vocals she's not afraid to use.


Mimi's been rather healthy until we moved to California. A few months of living in the desert she began to have seizures. We were hesitant to bring her to a vet simply because we didn't know who was a decent doctor. After a few referrals, I chose a vet and went. He was a distant doctor that was knowledgeable enough, but simply told me "when she starts having more than one a month, come back to see me." No explanation. He talked around answering any questions I had and shoved me out the door. I wasn't very impressed.

Now that we've moved to the mountains and Mimi's seizures have gotten more frequent, we bit the metaphorical bullet and tested out a new clinic. This time we hit gold.

Mimi's doctor is fresh out of college and eager to learn. Although an "unexperienced" doctor may be a turn-off for some people, this particular newbie is willing to spend a long time talking to us about the case as he learns to develop doctor-client relationships.

Of course, he probably wouldn't be so attentive had Mimi just had an ear infection. He point-blank told us that she's his most interesting case and is keeping a close eye on her status. I'm quite alright with him calling every few weeks to see how Mimi's doing even if it's for his own personal gain. I also like knowing that if there's an issue, I can leave him a message and he will get back to me within a few hours to address it.


Despite his off-color humour about boring cases and advice including "never get a chihuahua, they're a lost cause," I'll happily continue to see my new kitty doctor for as long as necessary to work on getting Mimi healthy.