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For those of you who haven't read my two other threads, here's some background. I moved into this apartment in march. A little under a month later, my cat was poisoned and passed away. When I recovered, I went out and adopted a new kitty, Tiger. He was awesome for about two weeks, then went crazy and attacked and tried to kill my other resident cat. We took him back to the humane society. I looked at cats and fell in love with a kitten I named Loki.
Loki was with me for two months, then passed away. Later we found out it was from the same thing that killed my first cat. We didn't know what it was until after Loki passed away. The vet actually told me my first cat died from natural causes. >_>;
We found out what it was though, hermit crab food. Something in the type of food we used was poisonous to cats. We switched foods, made sure it didn't have that crap in it. I recovered.
With me so far? Onto the new stuff.
We decided to try one more time. We adopted this beautiful Siamese named Gypsy.
She ran away less then a week later.
Searched everywhere for a month for her. Called shelters, called animal control, called humane societies, called the police in 3 different cities. We never found her.
I went to the humane society a couple months later to drop off some food we still had from my kitten, and I went to say hi to the kitties. One of them demanded to be taken home....I couldn't say no. She was all over me. A beautiful black cat that loved to sit in my lap.
Well. I had her for about a month and a half.
And she just died yesterday. She was perfectly healthy. I just spent $300 in vet bills to make sure she was healthy five days ago.
She tried to get onto a counter she's never even had an interest in while I was at work and my boyfriend was grocery shopping. She knocked over an open 12 pack of soda pop, fell, and the cans of pop fell on her. My boyfriend came home to cans of pop all over the kitchen floor and my girl under the kitchen table, rasping like she couldn't breath. By the time he called to get the address to the emergency vet, pick her up and call me to tell me what was going on, she was already dead.
My luck with animals up until I moved here was awesome. I've had cats from the time they were kittens until they were 17-20 and never had things like this happen. I move here and...... pretty much, I don't want to live here anymore. I hate this place. I don't know if it's me or this place, but this place feels awful. It doesn't feel evil, but I feel a heaviness every time I walk in here.
arg >.< Sorry for the rambling. But....I just feel frustrated as all hell right now. I'm pissed and I have no one to be pissed at, and I'm trying not to take it out on anyone. Thanks for listening
Loki was with me for two months, then passed away. Later we found out it was from the same thing that killed my first cat. We didn't know what it was until after Loki passed away. The vet actually told me my first cat died from natural causes. >_>;
We found out what it was though, hermit crab food. Something in the type of food we used was poisonous to cats. We switched foods, made sure it didn't have that crap in it. I recovered.
With me so far? Onto the new stuff.
We decided to try one more time. We adopted this beautiful Siamese named Gypsy.
She ran away less then a week later.
Searched everywhere for a month for her. Called shelters, called animal control, called humane societies, called the police in 3 different cities. We never found her.
I went to the humane society a couple months later to drop off some food we still had from my kitten, and I went to say hi to the kitties. One of them demanded to be taken home....I couldn't say no. She was all over me. A beautiful black cat that loved to sit in my lap.
Well. I had her for about a month and a half.
And she just died yesterday. She was perfectly healthy. I just spent $300 in vet bills to make sure she was healthy five days ago.
She tried to get onto a counter she's never even had an interest in while I was at work and my boyfriend was grocery shopping. She knocked over an open 12 pack of soda pop, fell, and the cans of pop fell on her. My boyfriend came home to cans of pop all over the kitchen floor and my girl under the kitchen table, rasping like she couldn't breath. By the time he called to get the address to the emergency vet, pick her up and call me to tell me what was going on, she was already dead.
My luck with animals up until I moved here was awesome. I've had cats from the time they were kittens until they were 17-20 and never had things like this happen. I move here and...... pretty much, I don't want to live here anymore. I hate this place. I don't know if it's me or this place, but this place feels awful. It doesn't feel evil, but I feel a heaviness every time I walk in here.
arg >.< Sorry for the rambling. But....I just feel frustrated as all hell right now. I'm pissed and I have no one to be pissed at, and I'm trying not to take it out on anyone. Thanks for listening
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