Nicknames: Mickmicks, Bubby, Bubby Gato, Chubby Bubby, Fat Boy, Mickums, Sir Mickmick, Senor Mickums, Fuzzy Butt, Micka-micka-san, Lord Bubbums, Lord Bubby, Lord Mick-mick, Fuzzy britches, Mickanator, Mickalicious, Mr. Squeezy Paw Big Bug Eyes, Senor
Coloration: Black and White
Likes: Wrestling with Pinky, Naps on the computer monitor, sleeping on mom's pillow, chasing jingle balls when nobody's looking, getting tummy rubs from momma's foot, and getting his chest scritched
Pet-Peeves: The dogs, momma crying (even if she's faking), seeing the bottom of the food bowl, getting wet, going to the vet
Favorite Toy: The cork out of a $5 bottle of peach flavored champagne and a pair of well used and abused fuzzy dice; also, small wads of paper, preferably gum wrappers
Favorite Nap Spot: On the computer monitor, in a nice sunny patch, at daddy's (still) broken ankle, or anywhere on HIS bed (it's not ours, don't you know), or momma's pillow.
Favorite Food: Tuna, turkey, tuna, ham, Tuna, milk, and TUNA! And extraodrinarily stinky cheeses like Ementhaller.
Skills: He can pick up pens with his paws, and he functions as an extraordinarily accurate alarm clock (though, sadly, he lacks a snooze button), and he's also quite adept at knowing when it's time for bed. He also does a stellar Stevie Wonder impression
Arrival Story: I was staying over night with my cousin with plans to go to an Aerosmith concert in Indianapolis the following day. That morning my cousin wakes me up and tells me there's a cat out on the front porch. Animal lover that I am, I rush out to play with the kitten. Pointing to a car nearby, my cousin tells me there's another cat in the wheel of the car. So, I go over and see this little fuzzball in the wheel well. I was the only one with arms long enough to reach in and get him out, though as I was pulling him out, he squirts out of my hands and runs to the neighbor's house and proceeds to scale the screen door. I walk over, pry him off of the door, and cuddled him close. It was love at first pet. :-) He slept on my neck that night, and he's been my bubby ever since.
That day also marked his first bath as in my quest to go out and find a small carrier for him, on the trip home, he promptly pooped in the carrier, and got it ALLLLLL over himself.
Bio: 2/19/11: After a pretty rough week with just one really good day, Mickey has gone to the Rainbow Bridge. He leaves a big hole in our hearts and a very empty space in our home. House-mate Pinky is stepping into the role of lead critter and Comforter-In-Chief quite nicely, however.
2/15/11: Mickey has been diagnosed with cancer. :(
What the pictures DON'T show of this ever so handsome and regal boy (hence all the royal nicknames), is that both of his back feet are white up to his thighs, it looks like he's wearing bloomers. :-)
Forums Motto: I am ze Mickmicks, you will adore me.
On Feb. 14, 2011, Mickey was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer.
The diagnosis came after almost two weeks of visits to Louisville Veterinary Specialists and Emergency Services. It began on Feb.3, when we noticed that Mickey was experiencing labored breathing. Coupled with a nagging cough that reared its head off and on for 3 years, we were concerned, and took him, first, to Downtown Animal Hospital in Louisville.
DAH came highly recommended to us by a good friend, who lost her beloved kitty to kidney failure about 15 months prior. She is as picky about her pets' care as we are.
At DAH, Dr. Garrity (who is absolutely INCREDIBLE), sent us to LVSES for an ultrasound after x-rays revealed that Mickey had a large amount of fluid in his chest. At LVSES, he was eventually treated by Dr. Scott Rizzo, who drained 60 mLs of fluid from Mickey's chest. A couple nights later, we were back again when the labored breathing returned. The chest fluid had returned - that it came back so quickly was very concerning.
We went ahead and did another chest tap, and another 100 mLs of fluid were drained (Goodness!), we returned home and for the rest of the week, Mickey was in pretty good shape. We went ahead and scheduled a CT scan for 2/14 to see if we could figure out what was causing the fluid build up. On 2/11, we were back in the ER when the labored breathing returned.
I knew when I dropped Mickey off on Valentine's morning that he was a sick kitty. Was it really bad asthma, or cancer? We wouldn't know until the CT was done.
The CT revealed that Mickey had a rather large tumor in his left lung, a mass in the lower portion of his right lung, and nodules throughout the right lobe. He had lung cancer, and he had it bad. There were no real treatment options other than to continue with chest taps or, my preferred course at that point, palliative care to keep him comfortable.
Though he was relatively perky during the week, he only had one really good day where he ate, and kept down, a 5.5-ounce can of science diet. From there, even keeping his liquid steroid down was a struggle, and on 2/18, he couldn't even keep turkey broth down (though he clearly wanted to drink it all).
So, on Saturday morning, we called Dr. Garrity and made the appointment. It was heart wrenching to say the least. But Mickey left this world painlessly, under the guidance of one of the best veterinarians I think I've ever met, and in my arms with a nice, warm blanket, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Mickey leaves behind very large holes in our hearts. Until he met Mickey, my husband was NOT a cat person. At all. But when I moved in, my cats came with me, and Mickey softened my husband's stance. The two didn't quite get along at first, but their friendship grew over time. Eventually, they bonded over a mutual love of cold turkey one day after our wedding.
Dr. Mickey, as we sometimes called him, helped nurse my husband after a motorcycle accident crushed his right ankle in 2005, sleeping on one side of the busted foot while Pinky slept on the other, every night for several months.
He was my familiar, and I hope that the heavens see fit to return him to me, much as they did with Sugar through Pinky. We believe that cats' nine lives are not necessarily nine lives in one body, but nine lives for one spirit.
The heavens got a good one yesterday, one of the best. So long, Mickey, we love and miss you very much.
It feels like only yesterday I was hiding in the wheel well of a car when this two-leg came along and stuck her arm in. Naturally, I was terrified, and ran away when she tried to get me out of my superb hiding place.
From there, I ran to a house nearby and climbed the screen door, hoping I could get away. But she returned, walking up to me and rather calmly prying me off o the door. She held me so nicely as she walked back to another house where there were more two legs. We sat there for awhile and as she held me I decided she'd make a great momma. So I kept her. that night I slept in the crook of her neck where I could hear and feel her heart beat.
Yesterday, she came to me and said, "Mickey! It's been 10 years since that day," and gave me a big can of tuna to share with Pinky.
I can't believe it's ten years. But then, it's been a long time since I saw my favorite champagne cork.
He's been a part of my life since the day Princess Diana died - it's the only way I can really guage how old he is. He was barely six weeks old when he fell asleep in the curve of my neck on our first night together. We've been closely bonded ever since.
Nothing lightens my heart quite like the sound of his purr, or his chirrup, often accompanied by big bug eyes and squeezy paws. He's been known to make even the most angry or sad person melt into a puddle of relaxation when he resorts to "Mr. Squeezy Paw Big Bug Eyes" mode. In general, he is the most laid back cat I've ever known, perhaps an extension of my own personality.
But without him, there would be a big hole in my heart.