|Spike loves everyone. Ever since Harvey became a celebrity, Harvey has replaced Spike as the alpha cat. Spike accepts that meekly. Spike is the sweetest cat you could imagine, and grooms all the other cats--especially Currier and, yes, even Harvey.
(Harvey still can't go by his real name because his Regional Winner status means that he can be Googled, and while I am not delusional enough to think that I will become the victim of a stalker because Harvey is on the Internet, I do not want him to be so easily Googled that Japanese cat world people will happen upon this site and read comments about them and their cats. Yes, some obsessed cyber sleuth can find me through Catster. I am paranoid, but not egotistical enough to think that cat people in Japan are searching for information about me and Harvey at 3 a.m., but, well, better to err on the side of caution.)
Spike won my heart the day I took him home from the veterinary office where he had been sheltered. I fell asleep on the floor. I woke up to the sound of purring next to my ear. Spike, who may have been a feral, or who may have been the child of an oops litter who ended up getting dumped in a park, simply wants to love and be loved. When I see him appearing to accept his status in the cat hierarchy here as second or below, I feel sad. I give him power lectures. "You're the oldest, you're Number One, you're Mommy's big boy!" If you believe in reincarnation, you may accept my theory that Spike has a very old, old soul, and that he may well be more spiritually advanced than I am. I love Harvey too. I also love Harvard. Leila remains in another dimension; as I've written elsewhere, she simply disappears from time to time--and I mean this literally: she doesn't go outside, she goes into another time warp and simply ceases to exist within the confines of my apartment. Beam me up Scotty, and all that.
As for Chibi--who does she like best? Like Leila, she became hostile to her own children the moment they were weaned. This is despite the fact that she was nursing Leila's kittens long after Leila had decided to let Science Diet take over. I don't know what happened between Chibi and Umesaburo--and he is another mellow, mellow dude cat, even though he is intact (and I suspect that he's not very interested in mating, but that's another topic altogether). But when Chibi came home from her assignation(s) with Umesaburo, she climbed on top of the cat tree and sat there glowering for three days. Apparently romance didn't appeal to her as much as I, my breeder, and Chibi herself had originally thought. The fact that she had a difficult pregnancy and birth was yet another traumatic matter for everyone concerned (except perhaps Umesaburo, who wasn't there at the time, and has yet to be informed of the details).
Yes, yes, I must sell my kittens. Harvard, who has by now cost me thousands of dollars through his destructive behavior (think two laptops...), will stay. Lowell and Leila's second litter will be sold. I don't care if I make any money. I just need to have fewer cats. I am at this point a failure as a breeder. I have not been good at selling my (?) kittens when they were still young and cute. Quincy's heart condition was not my fault, but now I have to investigate whether my breeding stock has some genetic issue leading to heart problems (and, as Suey has pointed out, these tests are still in their infancy, and their accuracy is debated). Houghton is slowly dying of what is almost certain to be FIP. FIP remains another mysterious disease. Being paranoid (hey, I've only used the word "paranoid" in this post twice!) I suspect that coronavirus transmitted through dirty litter boxes could have compromised his immune system and mutated into FIP. I feel guilty about that. Being a breeder presents much more stress than I had suspected--and yes, I knew that it was going to be a stressful enterprise. It has provided me with insights into cat behavior that I would not have had otherwise. I plan to continue breeding at some point when I get my act together. As I've said before, thank the Great Cat Goddess that I never had Human children. I take the lives of the cats that I have brought into the world so seriously that, while I have never contemplated suicide, I would say that my emotional state has been compromised. Which means that the treatment my cats get is compromised as well. Breeder Daddy says I'm not suited to be a breeder. Maybe not now. Maybe someday. The saga continues...
And hey, what does this have to do with the original topic of this thread? Oh, those Fake Cats...let them ramble on and they ramble about anything, anywhere. Ramblin' rose, ramblin' rose/Why you ramble, no one knows...
Edited by author Tue May 18, '10 11:29pm PST