The tale of the Gonzo cat - Part I

Thinking back, I realize she came to me in the worst possible way. By that I mean, strictly speaking, you’re not to do this sort of thing. But years ago (maybe 20?) I came to Edmonton. My friend Helen thought it wasn’t right that I should be alone in a city with family a thousand miles away so, for Christmas, she gave me a kitten.

Gone. (aka Gonzo).

She was a great gift but animals aren't supposed to be gifts. Too many bad things can go wrong. People aren't prepared for them, don't want them, and so on. In this case it went well, but it's not something you should do. But what did we know then?

Gone came from the Edmonton SPCA (now known as the Edmonton Humane Society). Kittens are supposed to be at least 6 to 8 weeks old – something like that – before being given a home.

Gone may have been that old when she came to me but, one of the reasons for them being a certain age before being handed off is they need to be weaned first.

Gone had not been weaned.

If you know me then you know that the idea of me and an unweaned cat is like the set up for a Laurel and Hardy skit. All I knew is I had this kitten that cried all the time and wouldn’t eat.

It was very stressful. For both of us. So I end up taking her to the vet and she tells me the kitten hasn’t been weaned. She might as well have been speaking Latin – what the hell does that mean? What do you mean, “not weaned?” What does “wean” mean?

I soon found out – quite to my alarm. So how the hell am I supposed to feed her?

I honestly don’t remember how it worked out. They gave me something – maybe a large needle type thing (without the actual needle) … I just don’t remember, though I do remember whatever they gave me worked, even if it felt a bit weird feeding a cat that way.

And as it turned out, Gone took things in her own hands and figured out how to eat in a less embarrassing fashion within about a day.

But I think that beginning set the tone for all the years that have followed. Me and Gonzo are just two clowns muddling our way through this fiasco called life without a clue. Not a fucking clue.

We just make it up as we go along.

Soon I will post about Gonzo and the shit gifts. (Yes, shit again. Sorry.)

Tag: Cats, Gonzo, Edmonton Humane Society