Hi, folks — poor old Spuds was put to sleep, quietly, by Forks’s good Dr. Ed, on Wednesday.

Thanks to everybody who helped out.

We had to put Belle to sleep on Monday because of blood clots.  Lina died in April, quietly, of old age, at home.

Yesterday we helped a neighbor bury their dog.

And another neighbor’s cat got dog-killed behind our house.

This is getting ridiculous.

   Poor old Spuds – and our other cat, Belle — need lots of med help. 

We do all right with me as artist and writer, but animal med emergencies are tough.  It’s gotten tight, here.

To help out, head over to Paypal and send to barr@stinz.com

Spuds and the other kitties thank you!

Vincent went missing October 2, 2001.  He had a broken right ear.  Did you see him?

No, not the depression the cat gets.  It would take a lot more than a possible case of neglected saddle thrombus to depress old Spuds.

It's the depression the owner gets when we finally realize that there's definitely something we can do about a condition like wabbly hind legs. 

Spuds is on anti-anflammatories and pain-killers for his benign squamous nasal cancer.  He's taking those little yellow Amoxicillin for a bladder infection.  So far so good.  Spuds is 18, by the way.  And perfectly cheerful.  He lines right up for pills in the morning because he knows he'll be getting a few slices of fresh raw greenling directly thereafter.

I've left a call with the vet to see if he's open Memorial Day Monday to get the poor old man-cat in.

Missing 2 October 2006.   Did you see him?

I'm only writing this because somebody got a cat back after 10 years.  Vincent went missing 2 October, 2001, Bremerton, WA.

I have photos, but he was a peculiar-looking lad.  So here's the original Lost Flyer drawing:

Note the peculiar right ear, broken backwards from a hematoma he had as a kitten.

Bug-eyed, skinny and goofy-looking, at least in 2001.  Even if all you did was see him, I'd like to know.

Yes, forward to friends.

Friend Dave in Ireland just reminded me of Lina's kitten nickname:

Lina The Rotten.

Partly for being what the Germans call a Beissvogel, or Bitey-bird.  But mostly for the Armpit Fixation.

Specifically upon a Canadian friend.  He's a clean man, but he's large, and anxious (mostly because he's so smart).  We all know what anxiety sweat smells like (I get it when I'm into a heavy creative surge — and I can't stand my own, let alone somebody else's).

Cats, however, LOVE human anxiety stink.

As a kitten, Lina seemed forever to have her head in a shoe.  That human foot-stank thang was her Higher Light.  And my friend's armpits were Nirvana.

She would cling to him, shoving her head into his armpits, nuzzling and chewing.  And then she would run over to some innocent human, preferably one lying on a couch, and ram her stinky head into that human's face.

"Look!  I STINK pretty!" was invariably followed by "Oh, God, Lina, get away, you STINK!"

Embarrassed humans all around.  Very proud of herself cat.  In our house and among our friends, a Friend of Cats became someone with a heavy body odor. 

Lina the Rotten.  Look out Afterworld.

Thanks, Theresa (Comment, below).  She was a heck of a cat.  I'm hoping it helps others, too, when their cats stop eating and drinking.  They won't try to force feed or hydrate or otherwise interfere when an animal so wise is working with its own personal death project.

They can just make sure the cat is comfortable and quiet and gets to sleep where it wants, and maybe hold it a little if that's good.

(And a good dvd to watch if holding is in order — "Dead like me."  Helps us deal).

I think I may know why cats do this.  If you starve and dehydrate at the end, there will be nothing but skin and bones left.  Nothing really edible to rot and bring in the predators that may go for your relatives or half-grown kittens (hey, it's a theory).

Wise animals, cats.  Right down to their DNA.