So, here’s a little update on our new cat…because, honestly, as much time as this cat spends at our house, it’s pretty obvious that this is its new home.
As you can tell from the title, the cat has a name already: Xerox. Get it? Xerox….because it’s such a carbon copy of Coyote? A copycat? Get it?
Ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Yeah, that’s how we roll around here. We cool like that, homedog.
Sorry, sorry. I know. I’m entirely too white to even joke around like that. My bad.
Anyways, don’t worry, I’ll still like you, even if you’re not nearly as cool as I am in coming up with pet names.
I will say that I definitely, absolutely, positively did not actively seek this cat out as our new pet simply because the name came so easily to us… yeah, I totally didn’t do that. Nope.
Anyways, back to Xerox – someone obviously loved this animal at one point. This is not a feral cat.
Not only did Xerox wander right into the house, completely comfortable with things like furniture, noisy kids toys, flushing toilets and whatnot, but, well, look:
It’s obvious someone loved this cat before – probably someone with kids:
I think that’s why Xerox’s condition makes me so sad – this cat is skin and bones. If it were a horse, it would be a 1.5 on the Henneke scale.
Also, this cat is not an it. After closer examination (and trust me, this is no easy feat on a black cat) Xerox is not a neutered male.
Xerox is a pregnant female.
I know, I know. Laugh it up. Well, at least I’m already married. I don’t think you can be a crazy cat lady if you’re already married, right?
It tears my heart out to pet her…she’s just so stinking skinny. You can’t really see it because of her fur, but as soon as you touch her you can feel it. I don’t like to pet her down the back, because the individual knobs of her vertebrae or pressed so tightly against the skin that it creeps me out. Her paws look too big for her because there’s so little flesh on her legs, and every joint on her body can be visibly seen – even through the dark hair…. which is saying something, because black hair, like a winter coat on a horse, hides a lot.
It does my heart good to see her eat – and it’s both gratifying and a bit depressing to see how much weight she’s put on in three days of eating regularly.
Anyways, I’m hoping I’m wrong about the pregnancy, even though I don’t think I am. She hasn’t run puking to my toilet, or complained of swollen ankles, but her belly is really round and tight as a drum – much larger than it should be for her emaciated state, and her nipples are pinking up a bit. I’ve been around a pregnant cat or two in my life, and the pinking nipples is more of a surefire sign than any round belly. Sigh.
Oh, great. I just realized I’m going to get web traffic from people searching for nipples. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I’ve been on a Haiku fix lately, so I might as well do it right:
Nipples, nipples, sex
Kim Kardashian nipples
Nipples, nipples, sex
There. Now if you came to my blog through any of those search terms…. Quit it. Seriously. Quit it. It’s just sex. Get over it, and go do something more productive with your day.
What was I saying?
Oh, I don’t remember. Here. Here’s a picture of both cats on our front porch.