Cats and Vomit
Anecdotally, from friends and several vets, vomitting is less a hobby and more a passion for orange cats. As one of my current felines is orange, I’ve more than gotten used to this. Anti-hairball food limits this to a certain degree, so I only have to clean up cat puke three or four times per week. But one of those is usually in the kibble bowl and that’s just damned inconsiderate, if you ask me. Another cat has to eat out of that bowl.
I should probably mention that this same cat, cute and lovable as he is, also suffers from either Mad Cat Disease or Catzheimer’s. The poor furball has no short term memory and I’m not sure about the long term, either. He’ll come in from a raging snowstorm that he demanded to be let out into thirty seconds before, then turn around and face the sliding door before you’ve got it completely shut. When the lock clicks, he’ll look up at you to see if you’re going to open the door to let him out because he hasn’t left the house in days.
He’ll stand at the kibble bowl and eat for ten minutes, take two steps away and stop, wondering if he’s hungry. Deciding he might be, it’s back to the bowl. Does it surprise me he regurtitates so often? Not really, but he keeps eating even as he gags and doesn’t seem to be able to turn his head away from the bowl. Fortunately, the sight of the puke he’s just deposited will turn off his appetite for a while. At least for as long as it takes me to notice it and replace the bowl.
He’s also the only cat I’ve ever seen fall out of a window from a motionless start.
And yet he hunts. Anything smaller than he is. And he’s quite good at it - a rodent entering our house has a life span measurable in minuntes. Things in the yard last a little longer. Last summer, he tried to bring a live chipmunk into the house. I don’t know what he thought he’d do with it inside. Fortunately, he got tired of waiting for me to let him in and lazy about the grip he kept on it with his jaws. Seizing the opportunity, the ground squirrel escaped, and is probably still warning his grandchildren to stay away from our yard.
He’s a wonderful, affectionate cat, but my youngest child didn’t vomit this much as an infant.
I’m just about to start writing for today. It’s a weekend day for me, early in the eveneing on my Saturday, so I’m also going to put some effort in on the novella I’ve been working on. The end is in sight on this one: finishing the climactic scene and a couple of short wrap ups beyond that. Probably not much more than 1500 words to go.
