Nicknames: Wookie, Schmoopie, Pumpkin, Butter Cookie, Fabulous, Gabby Love, Butterball, Toasted Coconut, Toasted Marshmallow, Gabby Block 5000 (for when she's in the window blocking the sunlight.)
Gotcha Date: April 18th 2009
Likes: Loving! - She would be perfectly content if you petted her until your hand fell off & People! She is very much a "people" cat
Pet-Peeves: Being brushed anywhere other than her head and back. Vets & thermometers, diet.
Favorite Toy: The YeoWWW rainbow always gets a lot of licks (as does the cigar)
Favorite Nap Spot: On the sofa, On a person, on the bed
Favorite Food: RC- SO33
Skills: The ability to heal broken hearts. She's a supernatural crawling spider spotter.
Arrival Story: I had heard my Tennessee family say that some of us would need to be adopted. Not long after that I learned about a Pennsylvania family who was sad that one of their kitties had gone to the Rainbow Bridge.
Then came a flutter of angel wings and an idea was born. I could help both families!
A 704 mile journey was arranged for me. A trip carried out by my Tennessee family and an amazing bunch of Catster Mommies who became my "Aunties"
My Tennessee mommy said ~ "Gabby is such a sweet purr, just looking for someone to love her."
And as one of my Aunties said to my Pennsylvania mommy about me ~ "She needed you and you needed her."
Bio: I am a "talker" I have the sweetest voice and quite a vocabulary of purrs, coos, chirps, mews and meows.
I am a lover and a licker. Hold out your hand and I will lower my head into it for caresses and I will lick and kiss your hand.
You know what friends? I forgot that the start of April also means our yearly visit to our vet. I saw the carriers come out. I was cautious but not fearful. BIG mistake !!!
I did know something terrible was in store for me though when I got grabbed up and taken into the bathroom, where awaiting me were papertowels, and my floofy pants comb...
That's right. I was robbed in my own bathroom of my 'fluid of expression.' Any time that my tail is in the air, I will usually "express" myself. Combine 'air tail' with a floofy pants brushing and it's an absolute certainty that I will deliver an expressionist expression.
If that were the extent of my indignity this diary could end right here... but no, it gets worse. After the bathroom debacle, I was put into the green carrier. (why does Sweets get the pink one?) I started meowing my displeasure with my situation the moment the door was closed on the carrier. "I see what you did there" I meowed. "I know what this means. Let me out now and no grudges will be held. All will be forgiven." My cries of distress went unheeded.
I watched Sweets get bundled into her carrier and she joined me in our loud meowing protest!
I watched Nuk be captured and put into his harness. I laughed as his harness had to be adjusted (BIGGER) to fit around his chest.
I should not have laughed....
ALL the way to the vets Sweets and I alternately cried and looked as pitiful as we could through the spaces in our carriers. I would start the cry and Sweets would echo or the other way around. It was truly a cooperative girl-cat moment.
Finally at the vet's we sat for a little while in the 'waiting area' while people remarked on the big baby in his harness that was hiding his head behind Papa's back. Finally we were taken back into an exam room and the real fun began. Nuk gets to be examined first. (Once we're in our carriers Sweets and I are not so eager to come out again, until we're back home.) Nuk, knows how to turn himself into a rock. A rock doesn't do anything except sit there. It would seem that a rock doesn't mind to have his temperature taken, or to be weighed or have injections. A rock doesn't mind to be groped and stethoscoped.
While Nuk was being examined I let Papa coax me out from my carrier. BIG mistake! "Oh you're pretty" the vet said to me. "Such a pretty girl." Then she lifted me onto the scale and she grunted (as if I too were a rock. A heavy rock.) "Feels like this one doesn't miss any meals" she said about me. (and all the humans wickedly laughed at me...)
A laugh that wasn't really warranted. Out of the three of us, I am the only cat who has maintained her weight over the past year. Sure, I didn't lose any weight, but I also didn't GAIN.
The "rock" is the heaviest cat in the house now, but wasn't subjected to any derogatory comments about his weight (discrimination!) It was even pointed out that Nuk has a waist while I (apparently) do not.
I'm not a fan of having my feet off the ground (surface) and so each time I was picked up and transported to table, to scale, and back to table my little legs paddled helplessly in the air. More humiliating laughter from the humans.
The final verdict though is that we're all healthy but we have to start on the "moderate calorie" version of the food that Sweets (makes us all) eats. (At least *I* know that it's not *my* fault that we are being calorically downgraded.)
Blessedly the ride home always seems shorter than the ride *to* the vet. (and since Sweets and I had nothing further to protest) we were quiet all the way home.
I'm young. I'm amused by everything around me. Everything I see has the potential to be a toy. I'm also food obsessed. (I've been on restricted food for about a year and it's on my nerves)
I've found a way to combine these two things! When I want to eat... (which may be only 10 minutes after the last time I ate, or an hour later.) there are a few tactics I try. Cry, meow, be extra affectionate (in the hope of trading "love" for "food.") Try to trip any moving human or at least "herd" them to either where my daily food allotment is kept or where my sad and empty food bowl sits.
If these tactics do not procure me food (and the success rate of these tactics varies wildly) I have now learned that I can knock things off the coffee table. Oh, that tactic gets my family's attention quickly. (it does not however, often get me fed.)
The little cups that Ari gets his oats, groats or other extra protein delivered to him are perfect to start the "knock off" game.
Mama usually has a book (or two) on the coffee table as well and those are fun to either bite first and then push off the table, or just push off the table.
Any papers on the table are fun to send sailing to the floor.
The remotes are a little harder to push off the table, but with sufficient effort can be done (and you can be certain that one really gets Papa's attention.)
There's a pack of small batteries on the table too and those are best knocked off while also being on top of the table. Being on the floor and reaching up to knock the batteries off can result in the batteries hitting you in the head. (A very undesired consequence, that will get you laughed at.)
By evening, Mama has already picked up the things I've knocked off of the table during the daytime and thinks "it's Papa's turn." Papa usually picks up my knockings with a little laugh and a smile. "Who says, I don't have children?" he says or "children must play." He usually doesn't feed me either though, without first consulting the clock.
I bet if I could reach the clock and knock it off the speaker stand, I might have more success.
This day Papa brought shoppin' bags home when he came home on break. In 'tis bag o goodness i could smell delicious breads. I said "breads, stand a ready, I be plunderin ye."
'n i chomped chomped chomped right through th' bag 'n th' bread bag. How's that fer some fine feline sharp 'n toothiness. Th' vile papa caught me 'n takes away me breads. How can i be a scurvy pirate wit' no booty?
Big hearty thanks to cap'n Sigmond Sparrow, Novi & Ingen, Capt Coldcut aka Monida Cristo and DA TABBIES O TROUT TOWNE, The family of Sally ♥ Sweet Angel, Lucy Nooner, Sophie ♥ Sweet Angel, Charlie Chocolate Paws The Family of Wanda, Norman, Tess, Rupert, Mitchell, Beckie, and more!~
Ye messages brought a smile to me face ~ I be a blessed lass to have such wonderful mateys!