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Diary of a NOT FAT lover boy

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Saying Goodbye

July 10th 2016 12:53 pm
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Dear Furriends,

Well Catster Cat finally helped my momma get a new password. So I am able to log on to say goodbye. I'm going to say goodbyes for all of the family.

Catster meant so much to us! We had such fun! We made so many good furriends.


February 3rd 2015 9:15 pm
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"You are the sunshine of my life... yeah. Forever you stay in my heart."


Update from the Bridge!

March 9th 2014 8:34 pm
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Dear Diary,

I am back up to 14 pounds and getting all the ham I want! Unfortunately, sisfur Emily is once again bopping me on the head from time to time. :( Can't say I missed that! MOL!

Watching the folks down on earth pretty closely... mommy has been a wreck. *sigh* I try to come and visit every night but it is not enough. She is missing being able to touch me. I'll be glad when she settles down a bit more so that I can have some fun up here. Don't get m wrong, I'll always keep an angel eye on her, but I'd like her to realize that it was time to let me come up here and be young and healthy again.

The interlopers have realized I'm gone for good. Lucy is coming out of her shell. She gets up on mommy's lap from time to time and she has been being playful to try to make mommy smile. Salem is starting to come to greet mommy when she comes home. But he's not very good at it! I was always right there, at the door, "johnny on the spot!" Salem is usually sleeping when she comes home but after I give him a nudge he wakes up and *plop* he gets down from the back of the sofa and moseys into the kitchen with a yawn and starts yelling at mommy. *shakes head* Well I guess I never did try to train them at all because I didn't really want to share mom.

Hope all my furriends are well and taking care of their humans, whether from up here or on earth.



Message to you my darling

February 25th 2014 9:07 pm
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Every single day I think: "He's gone. And he's gone because I killed him." But you were so tired and so sick . . . I lost hope that you could feel better again and I couldn't bear to see you feel worse. But it is so hard to bear not having you here. I think of you in your grave... I felt so bad that it was so cold and there was snow for so long and you were out there. But you aren't out there, are you? I think you have visited me. I imagine you on my pillow every night and I reach out and stroke the air and try so very hard to feel your paws, your face.

The kids are trying. Lucy is being playful. Salem is needy and trying to give me lots of love. But they don't care when I come home. No cat greets me when I come home. Until you got so sick you were always there at the door. My little jack in the box whose head would pop up at the screen door as I pulled into the garage. One of the signs you gave me that it was time - maybe the biggest sign - was when you just didn't care anymore that I was home or just didn't have the strength or energy to get up from my pillow and make that long walk through the house to be there to greet me.

I miss you so much my little orange boy too, sunshine of my life. I miss you so much. So much.


One Week

February 11th 2014 7:14 pm
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I miss you so much my precious little boy. I hope I did right by you. Every action I took was done out of love. I miss you so much.


He's gone

February 4th 2014 9:51 am
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I feel like I murdered him. The vet said: "The last thing I want you to do is feel guilty." The vet said it was time and we were doing the right thing. I've sobbed and sobbed. His bed has been put up. His dish put away. His half empty bag of fluids and the last of his clavamox, his probiotics, thrown away.

He is buried near his sister. We buried him twice. Phill buried him and I watched and then I said I couldn't stand it, we should have taken him out of that black bag. So we did. I stroked his head. Phill stroked his head.

This morning he wouldn't eat. But he drank lots of water. I refilled his "popsicle" cup after I gave it to him. I don't know why I did that. I've gotten rid of it now.

I've washed the fountain that he got so dirty by sticking his feet in it all the time. The sheets are in the wash - I hadn't washed them since he'd been sick and sleeping and coughing and sneezing on my pillow and my hair.

The vet said it was time. He went peacefully, but he looked scared. My orange boy is gone. My chest hurts.

He's gone.


"Good Night Sweetheart, Well It's Time to Go"

February 3rd 2014 7:35 pm
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Dear Diary,

And dear, dear friends. I'm making my journey to the Bridge tomorrow morning. I started coughing on January 22nd. Momma took me to the vet on January 23rd. I had to stay overnight. Wasn't great news for a guy my age - I had pneumonia. The vet gave me an antibiotic injection that would last two weeks and and other stuff to make me feel better. And sent me home on Friday with some big chunky scratchy Baytril pills to take. He said: "Well... I've seen him recover from some things I didn't think he would before... you don't know..."

But I just got worse. And I couldn't meow my throat was so sore. Momma couldn't get those pills down me so they switched me to the liquid antibiotic. But I quit eating. Then momma and daddy could only get me to eat baby food, and most of the time only when they spoon fed it to me. And it seemed like I had a bad tooth again. But they kept trying and they were giving me small doses of my fluids every day to try to make me feel better.

Friday night, Jan. 31st, I started having difficulty breathing 'cause I was so stopped up. Momma called the vet's hotline 24 hour emergency line... but the vet said: "We've done all we can do." That made momma cry and she didn't want to believe it. So they, momma and daddy, kept giving me fluids and trying to spoon feed me.

Me, being me, with the spirit of a little orange boy that is simply unconquerable, I would do things to give them hope like get up on the counter, play with my ice cube, stuff like that. But my breathing keeps getting worse and I'm eating less and less - I try to eat a spoonful for them when they offer it... but I'm so tired.

I stopped looking for momma to come home about a week ago. And I've skipped a night or two on her pillow... was too much trouble... I've sat in the litter box and strained but got nothing out except a turd a rabbit wouldn't be to proud of. *blushes*

Momma and daddy talked and talked about it. Do they think I am stupid?? I can hear them talk. I would get up out of my bed and go hang my head over my water or something, just to let them know I was listening. But momma says "11 days on antibiotics and he's not getting better, he's getting worse. I don't want to wait until he has nothing but bad feelings left." And then she'd cry.

So momma says tomorrow I get to rest! Thank goodness for that! This has been such a trial. I love them, but they are exhausting me with the medicines and the attempts to get me to eat. Maybe when I have a good long rest I will feel like batting someone again. I haven't batted sisfur Emily in such a long time! Oh wait... she used to bop me on the head...

I love youse guys. Take care of yourselves, and your humans.

Purrs & Love,
Edgar (the little orange boy too)


Please find mommy on Facebook!

January 18th 2014 8:48 pm
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Our mom is Julia Rieman. Please friend her on Facebook if we aren't friends already!

purr & love,


Hello Furriends!

January 1st 2014 6:25 pm
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Dear Diary,

Hello to all my dear Catster furriends! I miss you guys. I wish momma would let us on Catster more.

My 18th birthday fast approaches. Momma never thought I would make it. Sisfur Emily left us over three years ago. :( I am hanging in there. I am skinny and somewhat frail and wobbly. But still enjoying life! Grandma visited at Christmas and said I looked like a kitten!

Wishing you all the best New Year!

Love & purrs,


Needles and pills

November 24th 2013 8:02 pm
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Dear Diary,

It's been a long time . . . These days seem to all always be about needles and pills. I get two pills a day. One mom calls my "poop pill" (probiotic). It's a big capsule and I hate when she shoves it down my throat. But I thought it tasted nasty so I wouldn't eat it sprinkled on my food. And I guess it is helping my poops cause I haven't had the nasty runny poops since I started them regularly.

My other pill is a benazepril that is supposed to help retard my CRF. Good! CRF deserves to be stupid! (Sorry, mommy said that is not PC . . .). As for my CRF, well I guess I'm doing pretty well. A few weeks back my Dr. said my kidney numbers were the best they had been in a year. And that is probably related to the other thing... needles!

Every third day, sometimes one day less often mommy and daddy torture me by poking me with a needle and giving me fluids! :( It makes me so sad they do that to me. They set it all up, this towel on the table, hanging the bag of torture juice, etc. They know I don't want them to do it but they do it anyway and tell me what a "good boy" I am all the while they are torturing me. :/

I also get Cosequin every other day, for my old joints. But I like the taste of it so momma's allowed to sprinkle that on my food. :)

I had a haircut a while back. And that sure felt good! I couldn't get my mats out and wouldn't let momma do it cause it hurt when she tried. She is as clumsy as an ox. But now I have no more hair pulling on me and my new fur is growing in nicely. :)

I still could totally do without Salem and Lucy in my life. Although they seem to have learned their places. Salem doesn't back talk me too much and I've had a good butt sniff or two on him and even licked him on the head once.

Lucy jumps and runs from me when I make a lunge for her. And I appreciate that. Makes me feel like she knows who is boss.

I enjoy lying in sunbeams and sneaking up on the counter to see if momma or daddy left me some nice bacon grease or bits of scrambled eggs to steal. And most nights I sleep on momma's head. She complains sometimes that it makes it hard for her to breath, but I tell her, "get over it!"

In less than two months I will be 18 years old. Been around now over 3 years without my sister, Emily Felicity. Mom didn't think I would hang on to 18 but now I am doing pretty well. :) She still has promised me that I won't suffer. It is funny how these little incremental things happen; old joints, kidneys not doing their job, intestinal problems, matted hair. Just old guy stuff. My quality of life is still good, despite the pills and needles. And I'm not ready to go yet - not suffering. Not any more than anycat else in their golden years. I wonder why they call them golden?

Well that's all. I'm sorry I've been a lousy furriend these last couple of years. I love youse guys.


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Edgar ~ Precious Angel


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