My Life With Wellington

My cat might not have the most luxurious fur. He may walk like Charlie Chaplain's Little Tramp character because of his week hind legs. He may have no front claws. He may not be able to run or jump or chase or play. He may not purr. If he choses to pee in the litter box he will step through his pee or pee on himself requiring me to wash the stones and smell from his hind feet daily. I have a little basin for that. But he does meow and he likes to have his belly rubbed and NO cat I have even known can form a near perfect cinnamon sized and shaped poop like my Wellington. It's a daily miracles when I scoop out one of his biscuits. They are works of art and I know that at least his digestive track is working just fine. He also has stopped peeing on the rugs and now uses the emergency pads when he is too lazy to walk the three stairs to his box on his own. It's a compromise but a reasonable one. Next I try to return the rugs that I have cleaned and washed to see if he choses to ignore the pads and foul the rugs again. Then I will know it's DELIBERATE passive/aggressive behavior and not just a problem he has with holding it in. I give his urinary tract too much thought these days. Silly Kitty.

I so wish he would just sleep in a basket and not on the floor. I hate that but he would only pee in any bed that I made for him. The hard floor is his 'thing'. I hate it but what can I do. I wish he could wake me up in the morning after sleeping at the foot of my bed all night but he can't get up or down and would pee all over my bedding given half the chance.

Yet I still love him. Why? Because stupid damaged kitties sometimes need the MOST love.