Tripod


Domestic Shorthair/Russian Blue
Picture of Tripod, a male Domestic Shorthair/Russian Blue

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Home:New York, NY  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 8 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 10 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Tripod

Nicknames:
Sprocket, Stumpy, little Stumps, Kitten

Sun Sign:
Quick Bio:
-mixed breed-three legger-cat rescue

Birthday:
April 1st 2006

Coloration:
Gray

Likes:
Besides food? Anything that moves!

Pet-Peeves:
Being picked up

Favorite Toy:
Anything that moves, or that I can make move--whoa, gimme that! gimme that!

Favorite Nap Spot:
In my bowl!

Favorite Food:
Mom has been feeding me Evolution vegetarian cat food since I was a few months old, and I really go for it--oh, that and Tofurky!

Skills:
The three-legged race

Dwells:
indoors

Arrival Story:
I was really looking to rescue a grown cat, but I saw a sign for this kitten, called "Sprocket" (or Prophet) and decided to call to find out more about him. We arranged to meet in a couple of days; however, the following day I got a call saying that KittyKind, the rescue group that was trying to place him, was showing him at Petco, so I could go see him. I went, took pictures of him, and fell in love. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Bio:
All we know is he was found behind this "nasty" restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn when he was a tiny kitten. His foster mom was worried about not being able to place him if he got too old bacause he had the three-legged thing going on, but I think I love him more because he has a foot missing. It sure doesn't slow him down!

Lives Remaining:
9 of 9

Forums Motto:
I Get Around

The Groups I'm In:
3S2F, Blue Bloods, Russian Blues Lounge, Shades of Gray

The Last Forum I Posted In:
Vegetarian/Vegan Cats?

I've Been On Catster Since:
June 5th 2006 More than 8 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:
324563


Meet my family
Tipper (in
loving memory)
Buddy-boy (was
a true friend)
PookieStacey
Jerry SpringerCorky the
Yorkie
Stacey II

Meet my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
 

They caught me


I'm healthy!

February 27th 2010 3:59 pm
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Mom and the big guy put me in this bag today—boy was I mad!—and she took me outside; when she started running with me, I started crying: "WHAT are you trying to DO?" She got into this dark, crowded place with people; said it was a "bus" and that it would be "okay."

Well, we got to this place where people had their dogs, so I started crying again, louder than I ever do; she was talking to a friend of hers, and I decided it wasn't doing much good, so I decided to be quiet.

Eventually, she picked my bag up and went into another room, where there was this big "Grizzly Adams" kind of guy who looked me over, looked at my eyes and teeth, and put me on this metal thing to "weigh" me, whatever that is. "Ten pounds," he said. He said I looked good, and Mom was happy.

"Now with this FIP, would I be able to bring other cats into the house?" she asked.

"What he has is a coronavirus, and it's never turned into FIP," Grizzly Adams said. "Kittens who pick up the virus can become very sick, and they die, but this one got lucky; it's like people from my generation who have never had mumps or measles. Nowadays they vaccinate for everything, so nobody gets mumps, but in my day everybody used to have mumps; it was a regular childhood disease. For instance, I was never vaccinated, and I never got it."

"So I could take in an older cat, probably?" Mom asked. "One who wouldn't be vulnerable to getting it?"

"I think it would be safe," said the man.

Mom said she might start looking for another cat for me—if only to keep that dog on his toes; I'm not sure how I feel about that.

 

Curses! Foiled again!

June 28th 2007 1:03 pm
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They always put me in the bathroom when they feed me; Mom finally asked Dad why I'm always outside the room with the door ajar if they're trying to feed us cats separately. Dad said I was in the bathroom; Mom said, no I was out and eating the other cat's food.

So Dad put nail in the door jamb and a rubber band around the door knob and the nail. I still got out! Mom took a second, thicker rubber band, and that kept me in because I couldn't turn the doorknob anymore; Dad said he'd seen me actually jump up and hook my paw around the doorknob to open it.

Can't a cat have any fun anymore? I gotta figure out some new tricks!

 
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