Past: Two pet stories.

In May 2007, I rescued a Maine coon cat named Gamble. He lived with me in Michigan, and in Ohio, and of course in Vegas. That's where I got him. 

He was about seven years old when we met. We lived together nearly 3.5 years. 

In Sept. 2010, I moved again; it was somewhere that Gamble couldn't live with me. He went to a good friend, who loved him, and who took good care of him. I could tell that he was happy.

I still miss him -- Gamble will always be my cat.  He passed away a few years ago, sadly.

=-=

In July 2010, I had taken Gamble to be de-flea'd, after finding his thick Maine coon fur had hidden his bleeding from me. I'd never had a cat with fleas before; I was horrified, and I wanted my baby helped right away.

The vet gave him a newer 30-day treatment. 

I remember her saying with caution how they'd "had less luck with" the more usual brand. [Probably fleas are immune to't now.] Revolution was its name...

Edited to clarify -- the newer treatment is Revolution, not the "more usual brand" mentioned previously; sorry for any confusion! I love Revolution, it seems to work well on the cats we've had here in Michigan. 

Vets give a domestic cat the fast stuff too, when they need to do surgery and that's the surest way to avoid flea infestations. 

AKA The Instant Paindeath, when all the fleas bite at once, in their agony, and perish. 

Poor Gamble! He'd come home calmly enough on that 2010 afternoon, then he suddenly screamed, levitated, ran around the flat surfaces -- kitchen counter and then table -- and then came to ground [floor]. 

The fleas had bitten me a couple times, when they couldn't get to a cat -- I can only imagine how he felt, having every flea instantly bite him. The Looney Tunes cartoons are right when they show a teeny creature with a giant mouth!

So I let Gamble go outside so he could collapse and eat grass. 

I figured he'd lost all his fleas, Gamble might as well recuperate. 

He was looking around like: "WTF. Oh God, grass, I still know what you are, okay then." He didn't quite lay his head down in relief, but close enough. 

=-=

On Mother's Day 1999, my SO and I rescued a tiny albino rabbit.

He grew and grew. I think we'd bought three different cages in that first month.

We named him Elric. [Elric of Melnibunny, joked a friend later.] When he was a teenage bunny, he and I played a lot together; his favorite game was for me to drop an old white t-shirt over him, and he'd whirl around, escaping. Presto! a rabbit! 8)

Elric thought he was superbunny. I never disagreed. He could do magic, after all. 8)

He was a pretty happy bunny until his surgery... Elric was part Rex, and he grew to be a very large rabbit. He loved to play. I'll never forget him.

=-=

Elric didn't pull out his own stitches til a couple days past the remove date. Back in 2000, Elric got tired of waiting for us, and being neutered changed his personality. No longer a happy loving bunny, he turned into a Very Grumpy Giant Rabbit. Thirteen pounds of grumpy, I might add. :b 

When I was cross with him, I'd tell Elric I'd eat him. He always ignored me. But that weight of rabbit is classed as "Meat..." I'd never have cooked him, skinning him would have broken my heart. 

So yeah, Vee might be as patient [and grumpy] as Elric. Or maybe not. Time will tell, eh?