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By Linda Shaffer
I’ll start by saying this statement applies to my old cat Tigger who will henceforth be known as BB for “Bitey Boy”. The little mister had to go to the vet recently because I wanted his ears checked and of course, as a fairly new mother (BB just joined the household in April), I wanted to know that his parts…with exception of one eye, missing toenails and remaining teeth, were functioning at as full a speed as a near 13 year-old cat can go. Turns out I didn’t have a clue.
Since I am hooked to an oxygen machine and line, I had to sit anxiously and watch as what looked like twenty humans tried to restrain crabby pants so they could clean his ears and those nasty anal glands. I was not a proud parent. All I could think of was that I had just spent some of my money on a leash for him so we could walk together outdoors. By the time the Neighbor Lady got him loaded in his kennel for the first time, I knew just how big a mistake I’d made. The dreams of him on a leash and me with my oxygen line strolling on the patio faded quickly. It should also be said that there’s no way I could get that cat in his carrier or carry it. Without daughter Shannon’s help we are staying home. Good thing she lives next door. I hope she really loves us.
I am out-played by my cat who is older in human years, stronger and smarter than me. The trick is that he doesn’t know all the facts. He doesn’t know that not having claws is a thing. They were removed from him when he was a baby. It’s not something I would do but times change and he doesn’t watch the news. I do have a fascination with veterinary shows and let him watch those. I only say this because he spends too much time on my lap and I spend too much time watching television. He likes wildlife and animal shows better than war movies and westerns. Me too. He also likes Oregon Public Television. What a classy guy. If I was rich, I could set up a Bitey Boy Shaffer Foundation.
What he does know is that he’s the boss and he still has some teeth. His preferred biting time is morning. This happens if I don’t get up when he makes a prehistoric animal wail several times in a row. If I put out a hand to pet the beast, he will sometimes take a bite. Most times it’s superficial. My mother, who is too old to argue with, says these are “love bites.” When they bleed, I do not feel the love. I am in sync with the group at the veterinary hospital who don’t want to see his name on the roster. Just another reason to call him Bitey Boy instead of Tigger.
While my cat can actively resist…I can’t. Or, at least my body can’t. Here’s the Geezer Tribe issue. Like some of you, I am on oxygen 24-7, use a combination of a walker and sometimes, a cane. I run out of air if I laugh too much or do anything for too long. Please note: I am not in charge of what “too long” means. My body is taking over and my brain is putting up the good fight but it’s not always enough. I am not a real happy camper about any of this but it is a progression I have always known would have an end. At least I know about the beginning. I have had a wonderful life. I still do. It’s just different.
In the old days, if I got in a quandry, Mr. S would get me right by asking, “How many years are we gonna to be dead?”. I don’t know where he got this saying but it was one of his favorites and helped me and a lot of others. This simple phrase helped me clear out things that really weren’t important. Left behind were reminders of the precious nature of this life and the reasons you should find ways to enjoy each day. Wasting time fussing is not good for old people.
What does Bitey Boy care about? Being on my lap. Shedding. His toys. But more importantly, that shiny, 30’ of oxygen tubing I drag through the house. It wiggles and squiggles every time I walk. It shines in the sun and rolls over every time I make a move. It’s soft and even if you only have six teeth you can bite it. You can bite it a lot. I may have to cut back on deluxe gravy cat food to cover my tubing costs. But then, how many years are we gonna be dead?
Have a great week my friends!
