Goodbye Krankenstein

One Wednesday we said goodbye to our oldest kitty Krankenstein (Krank for short because that name to too freaking long to call out over the neighbourhood). Krank was only 10 years old, but had a number of health problems and she was at the point where her zest for life was gone so we had to make the decision.

She came from an abandoned litter of kittens and when we got her, she was still to young to be away from her mother and siblings, and so she spent the first few weeks missing out on those vital kitten lessons. I’m certain this was the reason for her strangeness and psychotic behaviour.

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For reasons known only to her, she had to sniff and lick the feet of everyone who came to visit. Thankfully this lessened as she aged. For her first few years, she would attempt to suckle on our blankets. Ex husband wasn’t safe at night because he often slept with his hands behind his head, and she became fixated on tearing out his pit-hairs with her teeth.

She was obsessed with our older cat Zakk, and harassed him constantly, which I think he loved because he would often nap with his tail swishing about while she stalked and wrestled it. Right from the start she felt compelled to clean him, to the point where he stopped grooming himself altogether. As she got older she would pin him down to clean his ears whether he liked it or not, sometimes while he was mid-meal.

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When Zakk died 3 years ago, she became a little lost, with no one to tend to. She once attempted to clean our younger cat, Lita. That didn’t go so well, as Lita had been conditioned through years of unpredictable behaviour to be terrified of Krank. During the ‘Torture Years’ Krank would attack Lita at random and without warning, other times Krank would approach Lita (who would be cowering, too afraid to move) and sit down as close as possible to her and start grooming herself. I’m convinced it was an intentional mind-fuck. But her attempt at badassery was a farce. She was a nervous wreck, she’d startle at the slightest whisper and once when she emptied her bladder all over my floor and I thought she was dying – she actually just had bad anxiety.

It took 7 years for her to decide to acknowledge our children after our eldest was born. She was bitter about their existence until she was so desperate for someone to scratch her head that she lay down on my frightened daughters legs and refused to move.

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Both of them were extremely uncomfortable about the situation, but both were too stubborn to do anything about it.

In short, she was a bossy, unstable, neurotic bitch with a demand and arrogant meow. And I loved her. Thank you to all of my customers who helped me to pay her various vet bills during my various KRANK sales.

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Krank’s final day.

Admitting You Have a Problem is the First Step

I love animals. I love them so much and I wish I could adopt them all. I feel compelled to pet any animal I see, but sometimes I manage to resist this compulsion, otherwise they’d never allow me to visit the zoo.  Although I did get bitten by a zebra once because I simply couldn’t help myself. But it was ok, she was really old and didn’t have many teeth left.

I have been known to cuddle wild hedgehogs, they’re not as spiky as you might think. Rats are my weakness, I can’t say no to them, so I have banned myself from pet shops because I just don’t have time to train a rat right now. I’d love to have a goat, a dog, a pig, a duck, a rabbit and anything else that I could legally keep, but I can’t, it’s just not practical. Two cats and a bird is enough for now.

Oh, look! He's smiling at me. Can I touch him?

Oh, look! He’s smiling at me. Can I touch him?

After Zakky cat died, I said “No more, I”m done, I’m going to be good and not get any more animals”. But every day, looking back at me from my computer screen, were kittens from the local SPCA Facebook page. I fell in love with them all. Especially one beautiful little boy, Tom. I couldn’t help myself, I bought him home six months ago and named him Stalin, and I love him to bits.

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Stalin (formerly “Tom”) and his brother “Jerry”.

Yesterday, I fell for another beautiful cat, but I just can’t have another cat right now. I’m too busy, vet bills are expensive, my old kitty Krank deserves some peace from the exuberance of youth. I had to unfriend the SPCA. I’m sorry SPCA, but our relationship was an unhealthy one, you were an enabler. It wasn’t really your fault, you are what you are, and we must go our separate ways. Perhaps someday, we will meet again.