Two weeks ago, I received an urgent email from K, our friend who is looking after Puddy while we’re overseas. She told me that she could no longer look after Puddy because it’s been confirmed that one of her sons is allergic to her. She said she was sorry, but could we please find her a new home as soon as possible. I was shattered. We had known that there was the possibility that her son was allergic, but she’d had her for so long (about 8 months) that I’d assumed everything was fine. I definitely wasn’t prepared for this at all.

Immediately, Phill and I started calling and emailing everyone we knew who lived close enough to take her. We don’t have a lot of family in the area, so there were no Aunties or cousins we could give her to. I asked some girls from my work here in Canada, and they asked their friends in Australia. I knew that Puddy was okay for the moment, but I was aware that we needed to move her out as soon as we could. We didn’t want her son to suffer, but at the same time, we needed to make sure Puddy was safe and happy. We weren’t sure whether we’d find someone to look after her temporarily or permanently – we just needed to find someone who could help us. We figured we’d sort that out later.

A week went by with no progress. People offered to put out the word, gave us their well wishes and hoped that she’d be okay, but nobody could actually take her. I considered going home, but we just aren’t in the position to. I knew that there’d be a chance we’d have to give her away to a new forever home, because it was unlikely that a stranger would agree to look after our cat for us for another year and a half, then happily hand her back when we got home. I didn’t want that to happen but I was aware that we were very quickly getting into a difficult situation and we might be left with no choice.

After a week and a half had passed, I did something I really did not want to do. I started looking into animal shelters.

It was very difficult to do, but I felt I didn’t have a choice. I realised that we weren’t finding anyone and this couldn’t go on forever. Even though the shelters were 100% no kill (this was non-negotiable), I still felt terrible even considering them as an option – not because they were shelters, but because I felt that I had completely and utterly failed as a pet owner and animal lover. I found two in her area and sent off emails. They were long and passionate and explained the situation. It was probably longer than it needed to be, but I felt like I needed to really make them understand that this isn’t about an unwanted cat. I told her about her quirks and her character and how wonderful she is. I told them how upset I was that I was having to do this. I told them that I realised they probably got ten, twenty, thirty emails like mine everyday. I practically begged them to help us, as I was stuck and didn’t know what else to do.

I received responses almost immediately. Both shelters replied with encouraging words, promising to help in any way they could. They started looking for foster carers straight away. I kept K updated during this process, but it was mostly “we’re trying as hard as we can, thank you for being patient” emails. Not much reassurance for her or for us either.

Within a few days, both shelters had found someone who could take Puddy, but only one could take her straight away. They said their foster carer would go and pick Puddy up and look after her until they could find her a new forever home. I read their email and burst into tears.

A big part of me was very, very sad that I wouldn’t have Puddy anymore, but another part of me, a more realistic part, knew that this was what was best for Puddy. She couldn’t stay where she was anymore and this was a solution where I knew she was going to be safe and looked after and loved, and her new home would be screened, which is something I couldn’t do from over here. I wrote back with K’s details.

The next day, Puddy’s foster carer, M, picked her up from K’s house. K gave her food and all of Puddy’s belongings. M sent me a message saying that Puddy is settling in well. M also has a kitten and she said that Puddy didn’t like her initially but I’m hoping she will warm to her (or at least tolerate her!). I did give them a heads up that she hasn’t lived with another animal before, so it might take a while for her to get comfortable. She said that Puddy has been coming out of her “safe room” for head bumps and snuggles, so that is a good sign. They are going to let me know once she goes to her forever home. They’ve told me not to worry, that she is safe and happy.

I still feel awful. I’ve talked this whole process over with Phill and my friends and even though everyone tells me I did the right thing, what was best for Puddy and everyone involved, I still feel like I’ve let her down. I only agreed to come to Canada once I knew she was being looked after. We’d had a hard time finding someone to take her, so that’s why we were so relived when K offered to. She was with K for about 8 months, one month of which was while we were still in Australia so she could settle in, and I figured everything was fine. I forget that things happen, and things change.

So that’s why I’ve been pretty quiet. There’s not much to say when you’re trying to find your cat a new home from another country. It’s stressful, horrible and worrying. I’m relieved it’s all over but there’s still a part of me that is very upset and that won’t just go away quickly. I’m going to miss her like crazy, but I also realise that she is going to be just as funny and quirky with her new family.

This was hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and this decision is going to stay with me for a long time.

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Pathetic, I know, but it’s true. The mere thought of going “up the mountain” gives me anxiety. Ever since our trip to Japan where I stacked it on the first day while snowboarding and ended up with a couple of broken ribs, I have been too scared to get back on the board and try again. I think it’s partly due to the “risk factor” – the possibility of more injuries and pain – but mostly due to the “humiliation factor”. I hate failing at things so sometimes it’s easier to just say no, rather than to say yes and fail miserably as a result, especially when it’s something like sports.

It’s not a healthy attitude to have, I know, so I’m changing. I have decided to suck it up and try again. All I needed was the perfect opportunity and it has come along. Next weekend, I am going snowboarding. I am having a lesson and I am not going to freak out about it. I am going to fall over, I am going to stack it, I am going to humiliate myself, but I am going to do all of this so I can learn how to snowboard. Eventually, I will be able to go down the mountain without  crying or stacking it every few minutes and that will be a very momentus day.

I’ve been feeling pretty low because of Puddy’s disappearance, so it’s been good to have something else to think about. It’s been two weeks now and she’s still missing. I hear about cats that go missing for months and then come home, so I am keeping positive. Thank you for your support and kindness – it’s been comforting reading your comments. I really hope that I can get on here soon and announce she’s come home – until then, I hope she is uninjured and safe.

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I have some bad news… Puddy is missing.

My heart dropped.

She’s been missing since last Sunday – that’s five days.

I’m worried – she’s always come home at night, meowing like crazy to demand her dinner. Apart from one night when I accidentally locked her outside (it’s a long story), she hasn’t spent a night outside since she’s lived with us – she’s always come home and snuggled on (or under!) the doona with me, or slept on her favourite spot halfway down the stairs.

K and the boys are upset. They’ve done everything they can. K’s registered with the local RSPCA and animal shelters and has called the local vet to leave her details. She’s spent a lot of time in the street, trying to find her. I feel terrible being so far away – I want to go and help look for her, as if me standing there shaking a packet of Temptations is going to make Puddy come out of hiding. That’s if she’s even hiding. I can’t let myself think about the “what ifs”…

Please think positive thoughts. I am hoping that Puddy is safe and comes home soon.

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Seriously, there are dogs everywhere. I see at least twenty dogs a day. I see them in elevators, shopping centres(!!), being walked along the footpath, hanging out of car windows – EVERYWHERE, I tell you! I couldn’t believe it when we went into a grocery store and there, sitting at his owners’ feet at the customer service desk, was a big fluffy dog.

In a grocery store.

We literally stopped and stared. So weird.

While it’s nice to see cute little dogs everywhere, it also makes it hit home that I’m pet-less. I’m missing Puddy, and it sucks that I see everyone enjoying their pets and I can’t. Mine’s sooo far away. She’s probably wrestling two young boys, play-biting and swatting them when they get too rough. She’s also probably keeping an eye on my friend K, waiting for her to relax into the couch, so she can jump up and knead her lap. And she’s probably got her other eye on her food bowl, wondering when it’s going to get filled.

Even though I don’t have Puddy anymore, I do have something that will always remind me of her.

My little scar.

So, okay, it’s not that impressive, but you can make out the two little teeth marks where Puddy nom’d my arm. No, not that one, that’s a freckle. The other one. Here, I’ll do a close-up. See them now?

The one on the left is much deeper than the one on the right, but they are definitely fang marks! Every time I glance down at my arm, I see them and I think of her. I think of the pain and the blood and the PAIN and the tetanus shot AND THE PAIN, but I also think about a terrified, apologetic cat that tried to head-bump me better while I was sitting on the couch in crazy tears, phoning the doctor while trying not to bleed all over the tiles.

WAIT … did I blog about that incident? I can’t seem to find it in my archives at all! How can I not have mentioned this?

Long story short… this is how I got my first-ever REAL bite from Puddy. She’s only bitten me once and I hope to never be bitten by an animal again because OH MY GOSH THE PAIN!! Okay, here’s how it went down: I let Puddy outside. Phill was leaving for work and called me from his car in the driveway to tell me that there were two MASSIVE dogs at our front gate and I should probably think about keeping Puddy inside. I went outside, saw the dogs, saw Puddy (she hadn’t seen the dogs yet), went to grab her… and grabbed her *just* as she saw them.

You know what happened next, right?

I grabbed her, she fluffed up and freaked out, bit my arm and raced inside.

So, turns out she can take care of herself. I, on the other hand, ended up with bright red blood running down my arm from four punctures (two on top, two on bottom) plus numerous scratches. As the blood dripped all over the concrete, I sank into a big heap of tears and went into shock. Phill was sitting in his car trying to figure out what was going on. He took me to the doctor, I got a tetanus shot and the nurse bandaged my arm from fingers to elbow. I went straight onto anti-biotics and spent the next day at home nursing an agonisingly painful arm. I don’t know what is in Puddy’s saliva, but oh my gosh, it was PAINFUL.

(It probably didn’t help that I am allergic to dog and cat saliva. Doh.)

Now I have these little marks as a reminder. The scar will probably fade away eventually, but until it does, it’s a special reminder of that crazy little cat that once sunk her fangs into me because I am stupid and forget that animals have instincts and grabbing a terrified cat who is face to face with two massive dogs is only going to end in (my) blood shed and (my) tears.

Yeah, you, you adorably psychotic kitty.

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She was pretty good in the car and didn’t whine much. She seemed to be calmer when I had music playing, and sort of rested her head against the speaker in the passenger’s door. She meowed a few times so I poked a couple of my fingers into her carrier through the gaps – she came over from the other side and grabbed hold of them with her paw. I, of course, burst into tears.

The drive took about an hour and a half. About half an hour before we got there, Puddy had a little accident. I don’t know if it was from fear, or she just really had to go, but my poor little cat did a number two in her carrier – something she has never done before. I had to pull over to get rid of  the mess since I didn’t want to hand over a cat covered in poop. It was quite funny, driving along trying not to breathe through my nose, begging Puddy to stay still and not stand on it, all the while searching for a safe place to pull over. I gave myself a mental high-five for putting two towels in the carrier – it meant I could just remove the top one and Puddy was left with a fresh one to sit on.

With the windows wound down, we continued on until we reached her new home. I must admit, I was holding myself together pretty well. It was almost surreal – you know, when you know what’s going to happen but it doesn’t seem like it’s real? It felt like I was just going to visit a friend except with my cat in tow. It hadn’t quite sunk in that I’d be driving home without her.

I brought Puddy in first and put her on the lounge room floor, still in her carrier, while I brought in all her supplies from the car. I didn’t realise how much cat-related things we’ve accumulated over the years. Wet food, dry food, mousies, scratching posts, water dishes, litter boxes – the list goes on! After ensuring all the doors were tightly closed, I let Puddy out. Immediately she started walking around, sniffing everything. She somehow looked comfortable, like she already owned the place. It made me feel a bit better, because it meant she would settle in a lot easier. We sat and had a drink while Puddy checked out the house. She ventured upstairs and I followed her out of curiosity. The first thing she did was head to the wardrobe in one of the boy’s rooms. It had been left ajar and she tried to squeeze her head through the gap, but she didn’t quite fit. Typical Puddy – she loves her wardrobes.

About an hour after we arrived, I suddenly felt it was time for me to go. I felt if I didn’t leave, I would stay there for the next two years. It’s hard to explain but it just felt like it was “time” for me to go. I scooped Puddy up and gave her a hug and a kiss and said goodbye. I told her I was going to miss her and I hope she’s very happy here with K and the boys. Let me tell you – it is very dissatisfying saying goodbye to an animal. While I was feeling all emotional and hugging her, Puddy was looking around at the house, completely disinterested in me or what I was saying. I could feel tears brimming, so I put her down, said my goodbyes and thankyous, and left. I got to the car, smiled and waved, backed out of the driveway, turned the corner… and burst into tears. Not delicate, sniffly tears, but heaving, horrendous, manic tears. I had to pull over because I couldn’t see through the blur. After a few minutes, I calmed down and drove off.

I spent most of the trip either crying or holding back tears (which would inevitably brim over anyway, so why was I bothering to try?). I think the thing that got me the most is that a) I won’t see her again for a long time and b) wondering about what she might be thinking – that I’ve abandoned her mostly. K is on Facebook and said she would post photos so we’d be able to see how she’s settling in, which is a really nice gesture and something I didn’t even think of. It will be nice knowing I can still see how she’s doing, even when I’m in Canada.

This week has been really hectic. Phill and I moved in with our friends on the same day I took Puddy to her new home, so I think it still hasn’t sunk in that she’s gone. I feel like we’re on holidays, that Puddy will be there when we get back – but we’re not actually going back to our old house at all. I’ve found myself missing her at night when she used to come and snuggle up to my side under the doona, even missing her cold little paws.

In two years, I’ll see her again.

I wonder if she will remember me.

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Anyway, with my “flea!” thought, I grabbed it between my fingers and yanked.

Whoops. Turns out it wasn’t a flea, it was just a bit of dried something (blood? skin?), and I had managed to pull out a tuft of her fur! Puddy didn’t react, but I sat there looking at the fur in my fingers thinking, “Oh, oh!”

See the little bald patch on her ear? I felt so bad about it, but she didn’t seem to even notice. Hopefully it will grow back quickly because now, every time I see her, it’s all I see!

At least it wasn’t a flea!

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Anyway, turns out enviro bags are just like boxes, because Puddy did this:

I had left the bag next to the chair while I gathered up a few things to put in it. Turning around, I saw that the bag had been claimed by Puddy, who was sitting in it, ears perked up, looking quite pleased with herself. I must admit, it’s a nice roomy bag, so it must be pretty comfortable in there, with its padded floor and flexible sides.

Do you use enviro bags?

Or rather, do your pets use enviro bags? Heh.

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Bunnings don’t offer plastic bags, but they do offer cardboard boxes for you to carry your plants home in. Great idea if you ask me, although transferring your plants from your basket to the box at their tiny little desk of a register is a little bit of a hassle, especially with a queue of people behind you.

We got the plants home and decided to set them up on the BBQ, where they would receive plenty of morning and afternoon sun, but lots of nice shade too. While we repotted them, we absent-mindedly left the cardboard box on the table. Minutes later, we saw this:

Seriously … what is it with cats and boxes??

I love the leg up on the side of the box. She doesn’t like her legs being touched. One of my favourite games with her is to poke her legs as she’s lying down – she curls them up close to her, then when she can’t curl them any further, she lunges and swipes at me. She’s so cute.

Are you talking about me?

Weekend Cat Blogging is being hosted at Paulchen’s Foodblog, the Carnival of the Cats is being hosted at When Cats Attack and the Bad Kitty Cat’s Festival of Chaos is at Nikita Cat. It’s been a loooong time since Puddy last participated in any of these round-ups so she’s very excited this weekend! I’ve been a little quiet lately because I’ve been sick with the flu, but I’m finally recovering (and my voice is back, yay!) so I’m eager to get around to your blogs this weekend to leave some lovin’.

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It’s quite amusing to watch and I took a few photos to share:

You can probably see a fair bit of scattered fluffs of carpet in the photos – that’s another reason why we wanted to fix up her scratching post. She’s been using the posts of her big furniture as scratching posts, but it’s very messy. I’m not sure whether it’s completely designed to be scratched to death, so maybe offering her an alternative might spare it a little.

She loves using the tunnel and the section under the tunnel, as well as the posts, and she’s ventured onto the platform a few times, but she refuses to get into the little bed at the top. In the last few photos, you’ll see I’ve placed an old jumper in there, one Puddy loves to knead, but she still won’t get in there. I’m thinking maybe the last cat who owned the furniture spent a lot of time in there, and her scent must be very strong. Any tips on how to kill off that scent?

Anyway, I’m thrilled she’s using it, and it’s so cute to watch her go crazy, scooting around under the tunnel! I’ll have to try to get a video of it to share. Oh and side note: you can see the carpet in the first photos but the second photos were taken after we’d redone her scratching post – we just hadn’t given her the leftover carpet back yet!

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