Clayton Comes Home

But not just Clayton. The SPCA decided it was ok if he brought his cat scabies too. And we're just tickled pink to have them. (The sarcasm is directed at the scabies. Clayton is ok.)

The test for cat scabies involves doing a skin scraping, where the vet shows off how aptly they name tests by scarping off a layer of skin. In Clayton's case the skin came off his right ear. It doesn't look very nice. I think he's embarrassed, but he doesn't let on.

And the poor guy itches. The combination of the raw ear skin and the scabies that live underneath got him scratching enough last night to make his ear bleed. His walleyed SFSPCA mug shot doesn't really do his coloring justice. (Or maybe it does. It depends on your screen.) Between his face and his tail he's nearly white, so a bloody ear really looks tacky. And being so blessed in the cheek department, he loves to rub his face on things, which yesterday left Flannery's pants covered in cat-ooze. Happily, cat-ooze doesn't seem to stain.

Having a sick cat makes me pause and consider whether or not Clayton and I are a good match. The first night he came home he was on his best behavior. He ate his dinner, didn't scratch himself too much, and pooped in the littler box instead of in my shoes, which was what I was worried he'd do. Last night he continued to use the facilities as he should, but decided to bleed on everything and then spent the night meowing outside my bedroom door.

Normally I would let my cat sleep with me. But as I mentioned previously, he has cat scabies, and I don't really want, nor does the SCPA recommend having cat scabies on your sheets. I don't want to walk around work scratching all the time. People will think I have lice, or fleas, or poison ivy of the lap. I wonder if I can get a polo shirt that say "Don't mind me, I just have mild case of cat scabies."

So he has to yowl in loneliness for another 4 weeks or so until his sustained company doesn't carry the possibility of an itchy couple of days. Or until I decide I value sleep more than I value having an oozing but affectionate cat.


The oozing ear.


Demonstrating how much of a faux pas he is after labor day.


Being ferocious, er, tired.


More cheeks than you can shake a stick at.

Super Girlfriend [X]
Good Job [X]
Bigger Apartment [X]
Pet ...

After many long, Norbertless months I've decided to re-cat my life. I actually decided to do it almost two weeks ago, but it turns out that it's very difficult to get a cat.

I looked through the SFSPCA's website and found a cute little number named Nelly. Despite my association of the name with people on MTV, I thought I should meet the cat and then rename it if I wanted to opt for adoption. I went by during my lunch break and she looked just as cute as can be. When I came back after work she was as adopted as can be.

A few days went by and I found another nice cat on the interweb. (I do seem to start relationships over the internet. Huh. Maybe I should look into that.) This one's name was Sammy and he was orange and fluffy and soft. I had paid my pet deposit and was just waiting for the cat approval letter so I could go fill out the paperwork to bring him home. In my excitement I sent his SFSPCA link to someone to show him off. She wrote back that he had been adopted.

Damn these cute cats! I needed a cat who wasn't quite so adorable on paper. Perhaps one that didn't look like the bluest crystal in the litter box. I needed Clayton.





Clayton is 3 years old, soft, affectionate, and looks like he should be named Clayton. If he lived someplace other than San Francisco I wouldn't be surprised if he would have been photographed with a piece of hay in his mouth.

Cat-approval letter in hand, I drove down to the SFSPCA to adopt Clayton before anyone else figured out that his eyes point in similar directions in person. I visited with him, we bonded, I filled out the paperwork.

"Do you have any questions before we finish up?" the helpful volunteer asked.

"Just one: He seemed to be scratching a little and had some red spots on his ear. Does he have allergies?" I asked, worrying that I would have to feed him Benadryl during the spring.

"We'll have somebody go take a look at him while you finish up here."

When that somebody came back down they made a squished mouthed, big eyed face and then said, "we think Clayton has ringworm. He's heading to the medical unit now."

So I nearly had a cat a week and a half ago. But now he's sitting in a cage while his ring worm culture incubates. Best case scenario is that he doesn't have ringworm and I can take him home on Monday. Worse case scenario is that he does have ringworm and I can take him home 4 weeks from Monday.

I have very little experience with ringworm, but already I find that I'm not fond of it.