Serious useful post:I want one of these:I have to check and see which brand my neighbour has, this one looks exactly like it. I was skeptical when she got it, but that was eight years ago and it still works great. I look after her pets when she's away, and this thing takes most of the pain out of kitty shit collecting. ...
My cat isn't well Off his feed, and yowling. I took him to the vet, who did a blood test and said he's mostly fine except his white count is up and his teeth are not in good shape.An antibiotic seems to have cheered him up, but he's still yowling. At least he ate some dinner.He's 16. I think this may be the beginning of the end
The yearly reign of terror that occurs in my back yard every summer is in full swing. Authorities seem powerless to stop the serial-killers from striking seemingly at will.Profiling suggests we are dealing with one or more high-functioning psychopaths, extremely sadistic individuals with a fetish for gruesome trophies. The victims differ, but for those that can read the signs it is clear that they are not selected at random: our serial killer(s) target the young, the fluffy, the adorable disproportionally. Other targets include familiar and well-liked individuals, and occasionally targets that we felt were safe because of their size and strength.I have already learned not to try and grab a kiwi from the fruit bowl without first examining it carefully for ears and a tail, as that is where little murdered bank voles are regularly deposited. Clearly, the perps are trying to mock our inability to stop them, shocking us with associations: ripe fruit and murdered youth, the transience of life, the inevitability of decay...Last week we found the pigeon that used to hang out feeding from the Ivy that grows over the back wall, savagely disemboweled in the most gruesome way and left there in the middle of the grass. It's wings outspread in a mockery of flight, it's poor body ending above the mid-section, entrails deliberately spread across the grass. The absurdly angelic image of the peaceful dove with wings spread, reaching for a now unattainable heaven, as if it is trying to ascend from the horribly distorted remains that are all that is left of the rest of it's body.They are speaking to us in symbols of horror and death, forcing us to observe their gruesome artwork. These are not random acts of violence. They are toying with us.Later, when I stepped into the side-room, I found what looked like the remains of some dark Lovecraftian ritual: ripped-out feathers strewn around an ominously empty center where the gruesome sacrifice had no doubt taken place. What made it even more sinister was that there was no trace left of the victim apart from these feathers. Our murderer(s) are evolving as the cycle continues, expressing his (or their) gruesome body-part fetish in more and more disturbing ways. They are drawing our attention to what is missing, what has been brutally taken away from these carefully choreographed scenes of violence and torture.They are trying to get into our heads. And it is working.A large pair of rodent rear-legs was discovered in the shed - most likely all that is left of a rat. And not a small rat either. Placed tauntingly on top of the laundry-basket, the murderer(s) clearly wanted us to witness the desecration of all that is clean, the futility of flight, the brutal theft of all identity as nothing but an anonymous pair of hind legs remain.It is not safe to go out barefoot to the shed anymore, in the dark. They are watching us.The rook that used to hang out on the roof was next. This time, nothing was taken. The body, discovered by locals near the patio area, was not even marked. Where the perpetrators interrupted before they could finish their usual desecrations? Is this an unrelated crime, or even an accidental death? Or are they showing us that even a bird of this considerable size can be taken without any signs of struggle, that they can kill without apparent effort, at will, without noise, right on our doorstep?At night, we lie awake, and the images of the slain return in vivid, garish color. They have been seared right into our psyches. And then I realize they know that I lie here tossing and turning. They know, that I know, that they can violate even my very MIND.I can almost hear their dark laughter echoing somewhere inside my soul. And the summer has barely started.
Nova Scotia is enacting a law to make it illegal to declaw cats in the province. Very few vets here will do it, but this means they don't have to argue with owners who want it done.
Quote from: borealis on December 13, 2017, 01:06:33 PMNova Scotia is enacting a law to make it illegal to declaw cats in the province. Very few vets here will do it, but this means they don't have to argue with owners who want it done.Only if the humans agree to have their nails pulled. Fingers and toes.
Quote from: RAFH on December 13, 2017, 04:19:02 PMQuote from: borealis on December 13, 2017, 01:06:33 PMNova Scotia is enacting a law to make it illegal to declaw cats in the province. Very few vets here will do it, but this means they don't have to argue with owners who want it done.Only if the humans agree to have their nails pulled. Fingers and toes. It's more like cutting off the last joint of every one of your fingers and toes. It's a horrible practice.