#i need to take him to a vet but i can’t even afford to feed myself

[albusthefakepitbull]

he’s starting to worry me, he’s having good days and bad days but days like today he’s shaking and sensitive if i touch him, i gave him a carprofen i need more. he’s getting sluggish on walks and just not himself, i hate aging

#personal #albus #i need to take him to a vet but i can’t even afford to feed myself #i’m so miserable

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Deconstructing the "Peggy and Molly Friendship" Narrative

Molly the Australian Magpie had been “reunited” with Peggy and the family that stole him as a fledgling and raised him without any wildlife carer license or experience.

Thanks to the Queensland Premier wanting to score some extra points in an election year, he “made it happen.” And legitimised the collective delusion of the public that genuinely thinks that this was a completely okay and reasonable situation. And believed the notion that Molly, a territorial social species of bird that had compromised development and was taken out of his home range, could simply "fly away".

So I went through their Instagram to see how this madness unfolded. It clearly began as a “Peggy” instagram before the stolen fledgling joined in.

These people are so adamant that there were no parents around but I don’t believe it for a second. Molly was a juvenile when he was taken - you always see fledglings around his size and age on the ground foraging for food. Mum and dad are not always around but they are never far away and are critical to a young magpie's developmental period.

They claim that Molly was sick. Yet they never make any mention of taking him to the vet. Molly makes distinctive fledgling feeding calls, the sounds he would have used to beg for food from his parents. It's tragic to see this after seeing how magpies raise their fledglings in my own backyard.

One of their first posts is feeding him what looks to be mealworms next to their pet dog. Aussie Magpie Fledglings at this age are learning everything about how to survive from their parents. They fed Molly WITH their dog. What does that teach? That dogs are not only safe but also a potential source of food/reinforcement.

As Peggy’s Instagram becomes Peggy and Molly’s Instagram, this happens:

Molly gets attacked by other birds. Because guess what? This is a territorial bird who has been removed from his original territory and away from the protection and guidance of his parents.

So, because these people have no idea what they’re doing, they’re Shocked that this would happen and that the wild bird they’re unwittingly conditioning into their pet can’t defend himself.

But yeah I’m sure teaching Molly tug of war with a dog is exactly the survival skills he needs as a wild bird!!!!!!

(I’m losing my goddamn mind)

Another “release attempt” fails because apparently we did a whoopsie and let him fly out in a storm??? Yet again, this poor bird is having traumatic experiences in the wild that he was not prepared for and is, unsurprisingly, seeking humans - which he has now associated heavily with food and safety.

Meanwhile, as they’re “raising” Molly, this insanity happens:

Yeah because that’s why your staffy is spontaneously lactating. She wants to mother a bird. It couldn’t possibly be that she’s had a bird pecking at her nipples and stimulating them or that she might have a serious medical issue. Interestingly, they do take Peggy to the vet. A luxury that doesn’t seem to be afforded to Molly who was also apparently sick (even though he seems to be pretty bright, alert and feeding in all the videos of when he was “rescued”)

Anyway the saga continues with the clear intention of making content now - the socialisation and habituation continues during Molly’s most critical juvenile years. They talk about how Peggy is helping Molly learn how to find food as if they're still intended for him to be a wild bird. But it's clear this bird isn't going anywhere.

At this time, Molly would be learning how to find food, how to socialise with other magpies and he’d eventually be joining a juvenile or bachelor flock where he’d continue to develop his social skills as a social and intelligent bird, wrestling and playing with his flock mates.

But no, he’s learning to mimic barks and is harassing the hell out of this poor staffy. The family just lets it all happen without any sort of support or advocacy for Peggy.

Haha isn't zoonotic disease vectors and a confused bird with no idea of how to interact appropriately with a dog just hilarious? It’s funny because of the silly caption they made, right?

As their "relationship" progresses, Peggy shows more discomfort.

This dog shows multiple stress behaviours. She is not friends with this bird she is TOLERATING this bird as he pecks at her face. She's rarely relaxed in these "play" interactions. She licks her lips, turns her head, yawns and even bares her teeth. But if it has a cute soundtrack behind it, I guess that means they’re having fun, right?

Even the interactions where Peggy's isn't stressed are still uncomfortable to watch. Molly shows immense frustration and confusion, following and wanting to be involved but being ignored or tolerated.

Molly should be with wild birds, playing how they play and not being merely tolerated:

Molly had a chance to be homed with a qualified wildlife rehabber or even get the chance to get to live with other Australian Magpies. But because people fell for the story and the media regurgitated it without questioning it for a second - he'll never get that chance again.

Molly was failed by the Queensland government for not being seized immediately. There were numerous complaints as soon as their story started to become viral that this was sending a bad message to the public and that this bird was not being given the care he needed.

It's too late, now. Molly will live in a confused limbo, not knowing what he's supposed to be and will never get to live with his own species.

And all the people that sent death threats to wildlife carers (who were trying to fix the damage caused) will pat themselves on the back about what a good job they did.

#Molly the Magpie #wildlife rehabilitation #australian magpie #wildlife #birds #canine behaviour #stress behaviour #Peggy and Molly

[queendearings]

‼️🚨PLEASE help me afford to take my dog to the emergency vet 🚨‼️

Never posted one of these before but times are hard right now so here goes:

This is my baby boy Mandu, he’s a senior pug who’s blind and deaf and has spinal issues so he can’t really feel his back legs. Despite all of that he’s a very joyful and energetic dog who loves to run and explore and chase new smells.

Last night he started acting lethargic and his nose was dry and warm and his ears were really hot, like he was running a temperature. Ever since I adopted him he’s refused to drink water from a bowl so I usually add it to his food, but in a situation like this where he’s dehydrated and needs more fluids the only way he’ll drink is if I use a baby dropper to slowly feed to him (as pictured above).

His symptoms have persisted for 24 hours now and I really need to take him to the emergency vet to be checked out in case this is something serious. I’m scared to death of anything happening to my boy. Please help if you can, every little bit helps, even just sharing the post helps 🙏

Venmo: @ElleElf

#pugs #puglife #signal boost #please share #please boost

[gravelgirty]

When you give a cat a home...

Please remember what it means.  In the USA if you want to do the right thing, most vet offices won’t simply spay/neuter a cat or dog off the street without putting them through tests (bloodwork, scanning, labs) because that’s how they screen for diseases.  And it is expensive.

We took in this little fellow, starving and rail-thin during a rotten winter storm.  He had been living on his own for quite a while, but we can’t keep him. We were saving his life. 

Fine, we thought...We’ll apply to the local shelter and pay the sliding scale fee to get him spayed and surely he will be far more adoptable that way (oh, yeah). My sister’s porch is overrun by all these cats the Crazy Cat Lady had on her porch and then she died...they all have diseases and keep breeding faster than she can keep up, and she actually found volunteers who do TNR for free.

But my application was processed at the same time the county seized multiple hoarding households and first one, then another, then another house made the news for SO MANY CATS brought to the shelter, all in physically poor condition and in need of their own neutering.  Let’s not mention names; Tacoma is a big place but not big enough to protect privacies.

The weeks ticked by with no end and sight.  We live sparingly; I have three jobs to keep up with rent and utilities and food.  My kids work too but we don’t have a car and public transportation is a minimum $62 a month for each adult. My son’s cat is diabetic and needs $160 a month in insulin and syringes; that doesn’t even cover the diabetic cat food (pro tip: FELINE FANCY FEAST CLASSIC PATE any flavor is ok for diabetic cats!).  But at $1 for a tiny little can...it adds up.  For all the household cats we pay half and that means a minimum of $150 for food and litter).  Those medical credit cards, like Kare Kredit, are great in emergencies but your ability to make payments on time is soon gobbled up by cascading recurring purchases.

This is not a bad cat.  But he was in a bad situation.

Someone must have loved him.  He was litter trained and let us clip his claws(!) But he rarely purrs, and is nervous at being brushed. Being an intact male 'Orca’ wants to spray and our cats are harassed at his high energy and desire to play. Perhaps someone just couldn’t take care of him when he stopped being an adorable and physically immature kitten. We don’t know.  We were $900 in debt taking care of our cat before he came to us, and things are getting worse.  The stool sample test for parasites costs as much as month’s supply of veterinarian insulin syringes.  The pre-op health exam cost us $268.82.  Tomorrow’s blood work will be another $50-60 and the neutering surgery alone?  I don’t even want to know and that doesn’t cover using LYFT to get him to the vet--$30 in each direction, totaling to $120.  

Surely there are cheaper vet offices?  I have no doubt.  But so many offices are full to bursting and not taking new clients.

We don’t regret bringing him in, because damn it, fair is fair.  He doesn’t deserve being cold and hungry in a place where coyotes are feeding pretty well on cats their foolish owners let loose to ‘be free’.  He came right up to us.  No one posted a LOST sign; there was no proof he had been in a home for a long time.

I don’t know about other countries, but if medical debt isn’t taken seriously for humans if you are trying to apply for food stamps and other emergency resources, they sure as hell care less about pets needing care.  System = Broken over here. We already live out of the food bank (that’s its own struggle, trust me).

If you want to take up someone’s offer for a needy pet, please don’t be nervous about offering to give a few bucks toward set pet’s care with them.  Yes, many people are proud.  But the phrase ‘pay it forward’ is pretty damn hard to argue with.  Use it.  Also, when people are stressed and wondering if this little animal is really going to a good home, offering them some money is a reassurance that you can afford to care for them.

We are humans.  Part of our responsibility is stepping up to the plate when another human fails in their obligations.  And sometimes, it really costs.  

If anyone is looking for a pretty little cat in the Tacoma area and they know they can care for him, PM me. He’s coming chipped, vaxxed, tested, spayed--all the trimmings.  Except for those pesky reproductive organs.  Those are getting trimmed off on Tuesday.

#cats in need #adopt #Tacoma rescue cats

[specialagentlokitty]

Hey friend :) how are you?

I hope you don’t mind if I come to you for some advice. I’ve been dating my boyfriend for a few months and while cautious I haven’t found anything I don’t like about him he’s nice, a hard worker, supportive like give up his weekend to help me help my aunt renovate the house my aunts fixing for nothing in return, but now I have found something that really I mean really annoys me. I’m very invested in my pets not overly invested but I take care of them like part of the family. If ones sick I take them to the vet immediately and find out what’s wrong.

But in the past couple of weeks my boyfriends older cat got sick and I gave him recommendations for good vets. But he decided to wait a few days to see if she improved (the cats health did not) then he spent 300 dollars on a check up and blood tests which had no result. So he was calling after the vet visit and I recommended trying to have the cat get an x-ray. He ended up getting nutrient cat food to hand feed her and give her water. A week goes by and the cats still getting sick so I say maybe you should get a second opinion so he takes her back and gets other tests done the total spent on the cat is now up to 700 but he doesn’t get an x-ray. Then yesterday he tells me one of the times the cat gets sick there’s a piece of string he found so he thinks the cat got ahold of string or something it wasn’t supposed to. So I say maybe the cat needs to go the the vet and get an x-ray. But he is waiting because he thinks the cat who is still getting sick daily will pass whatever it ate. But he still texted me that he feels bad the cat has gotten sick twice today and he’s had to clean it up. I don’t want to start a fight but honestly I feel like kicking his a** because I am very much an animal lover. I mean when my guinea pig got sick and her regular vet didn’t give her medicine that was effective I drove an hour to find another exotic pet vet and had them treat her. I even paid 1,000 combined over night care in an oxygenated tank and combined anti-inflammatory meds and antibiotics that worked.

Hey so I’ll try give the best advice I can!!

Firstly, I hope the cat is doing okay and I do agree it should definitely be taken for an X-ray, and an animal management student when I was in college, believing an animal has eaten anything it shouldn’t especially of that sort is a huge red flag as it can tangle itself in the and cause damage which if untreated can be dangerous

It doesn’t make much sense to me why he wouldn’t get it checked out, but I know things are different in America from England and it does sound very expensive, so could it be he just can’t afford it and may not want to say?

The main thing is to keep an eye on the cat and keep gently encouraging him to take it to the vet and stress how important this is

He sound like he is a very sweet guy, so I don’t believe he doesn’t care for his cat, I personally am more leaning towards money issues, especially if the cat has to be kept in overnight and such

Just keep gently urging him, and offer to maybe go with him if it’ll make him feel more comfortable

Other than this I’m not sure what else I can suggest, it definitely is an issue that should be looked at by a vet I agree fully

I hope the cat is okay and he does take it for treatment!

[weareallgreyreally]

Tl;dr getting a dog changed my life -  aka my dog learned the word no very quickly, my mom is still a work in progress. TW: controlling parent.

Getting a dog while I still live with my mother saw me researching dog breeds for two years before deciding on one where my lifestyle would fit, creating a “25 reasons why I should be allowed to get a dog,” saving up, and joining online training courses so I knew everything I possible could before I took on the responsibility of Dog Mom. It convinced my mum but I got a lot of “this is your dog, your responsibility” “make sure you can afford it, you’ll always need to have savings just in case” “your dog better not do XYZ in my house.” All reasonable stuff, but there was a lot of general angst about it. She told me constantly that I’d cave on my boundaries because “she could never say no to me and my brothers.” I started to doubt myself a lot, worried that I’d get this dog and not be able to train it, worried that my anxiety disorder would be passed on and this potential animal would be better off with someone else.

I got him and now he’s “our dog” lmao. I pay for everything but my mom insists on being at all his vet appointments so she can loudly weigh in on decisions, I pay for his training so she can tell me the trainer doesn’t sit right with her and ignore their professional know how, I crate trained him for her to take all credit when talking to anyone despite her constantly letting him out in the night to sleep with her on the sofa, I don’t feed him anything but his strict diet (it’s veterinary as he has stomach problems) only for her to constantly feed him whatever she’s eating. Having a dog has really taught me a lot, mostly that my mother has a lot of audacity and co-dependence, and had zero respect for my wants / decisions. (“You can’t be a good dog parent if you don’t eat this thing I cooked that I know you don’t like” “you’re not a good influence for X (my dog) when your room is messy” “how do you expect to be able to look after X on your own when you don’t do your laundry more often” “you shouldn’t be spending money on XYZ (usually my card collection) when you have a financial responsibility”).

Turned out this is what made me realize I had no boundaries, that my inability to say no was not an inbuilt fault of mine I’d never overcome, but an outcome of it never being listened to. I told her that she’d instilled no confidence in my partner and I for looking after future offspring as she can’t even stick to boundaries with our dog which tweaked her tune a little as her biggest want is grandchildren (“an only child is a lonely child” still only having one at most, mom). There’s been a lot of tweaks lately. A lot of “I don’t need you at the vets with me for a check up / you talk over me / he’s my dog, I make the decisions” and “we’re training him to do XYZ because he’ll need to know it when we live on our own / no we won’t be bringing him over to stay with you every weekend.” Constant reminders (and sometimes arguments) as I have to enforce the facts that he’s my dog and I’m allowed to say no. I’m allowed to disagree with her. I’m allowed to get frustrated or upset or angry when my boundaries are ignored. I’m allowed to find her guilting me with my dog incredibly manipulative.

My dog turned 2 last weekend, he’s to die for; I’ve never cherished something so much in my entire life, he’s a dream come true. Having him has taught me a lot about patience and perseverance, a sht ton about responsibility and budgeting, but mostly having him has taught me that I’m braver than I thought, that I have the ability to stand up for myself and for him, and that I don’t need my mom’s approval to make good decisions. Getting him really did change my life; I’d been on anti-depressants for 6 years, I’d developed agoraphobia over Covid (was passing out when I left the house), I felt like I couldn’t do anything right, that there was something wrong with me. I don’t take meds anymore, I go out every day, I’m healthier than I’ve ever been, and I know there’s nothing wrong with me; I just needed a chance to see myself through my own eyes.

#dogs #first time pet owner #boundaries #controlling parent #mental health #glow up #progress #GAD #this year is for healing #this year is for taking names

[creaturebloom]

eddie is set to come home tomorrow evening and i am soooo fucking nervous oh my god if it’s anything like thursday i honestly don’t know what’s going to happen

im putting this under a read-more bc i’m very on edge right now, this is more of a rant than anything so

tl;dr eddie was doing just okay today, not very active and had diarrhea few times but no vomiting as of this morning. fingers crossed that he comes home tomorrow able to drink water on his own

i bought a bunch of like “treat at home” parvo supplies, even though he will have been hospitalized for a total of 4 1/2 days. we honestly can’t afford it if he needs to be hospitalized again, all the credit cards are maxed out. idk whether to start a gofundme or whatever like. idk im trying not to worry about the money right now.

but when my mom went to visit eddie was doing a bit better than when we took him in, but not nearly as good as he had been on wednesday. he also had diarrhea while she was there, thankfully still no blood. the vet tech had said during the night he was doing okay and urinating normally, which he hadn’t thursday night at home and literally just held it until he couldn’t anymore. he wanted to go outside so bad and we kept putting him on his puppy pads and trying to coax him into just going but he’s so well trained like he just would sit on them and look at us so sad and so exhausted

ofc when he finally did pee, not on a pad, we praised him enough to get the smallest little tail wag out of him which was about as much tail wagging as he had done since getting home at all

i just worry that thursday night set him back too much, because honestly the vet tech that discharged him gave us nearly ZERO info on how to care for him at home. we had no idea we would have to force feed/water him. no idea what amounts. like legitimately the actual veterinarians are great, but the techs (nurses, basically) have been really hit and miss through all this. some are great and very informative, others are just like "sucks he won’t pee in his cage here oh well” after my mom told them that he really doesn’t like to do that and will just hold it until he can go outside

PLUS we were told on thursday at discharge that he had eaten breakfast and lunch, but we were NOT told that he had to be force-fed and refused to eat on his own. when my mom dropped him off friday morning and told the actual vet doctor this, she just kind of shook her head and sighed, clearly understanding we should have been told this info and weren’t.

like legitimately they gave us a basic discharge paper with limited instruction for general after-hospital care. nothing parvo specific, the fucking sheet even said we could take him for walks after 10 days and uhhh that’s simply not true at all. nothing about how to hydrate or feed him. nothing about what we needed to look out for, or how to keep his environment. which is so fucking awful because a different vet tech had been super great and answered all my mom’s questions and was very thorough with what they were giving him, how he was doing while there, all of that.

i honestly am just praying that he’s drinking water on his own by tomorrow. like that’s the biggest thing, because he HATES being given a syringe in the mouth to give him water, and we could only ever get the smallest fucking amounts on thursday night. if we’d have known we needed to really keep on it, and the AMOUNT he needed to drink, we would have done more. i feel so guilty but like. we legitimately were not told any of this, we had to learn it from fucking youtube.

my dad is also in a down time, which makes the idea of caring for him and eddie at the same time even more overwhelming. if you’re unaware, my father has dementia and i, my brother, and my mom all caregive for him 24/7/365. but it’s just extra stressful trying to do both. thursday night was miserable and that was even with my dad in a good mood. all day and night he’s been grumpy as shit, getting up and down every 20 minutes, not wanting to use the restroom even to change his diapers, which absolutely need it most of the time. just honestly a really bad time for my dad to be in a down period right now.

i’m. so overwhelmed oh my god. i had a panic attack earlier, i feel like the hits honestly just keep on coming. the last two holiday seasons have been absolute nightmares, and i just can’t take another winter with everything falling to shit around me and there being absolutely nothing i can do about it.

god i just hope eddie is drinking water on his own. like honestly that would be the biggest fucking relief. idc about whether or not he’ll eat on his own, i got nutri-care gel stuff for calories, we can spoon feed him or whatever, but the most important thing is to keep him hydrated and i’m terrified of how that’s going to go if he won’t drink on his own.

if we can’t get him to drink with the syringe or it’s clear he’s getting dehydrated we’re going to take him to the original vet (where he got diagnosed tuesday morning) and ask them for subcutaneous supplies and to show us exactly how to do it -- which they previously said they would do, before eddie was admitted to the hospital.

jesus this is long. i’m just so fucking exhausted already and i’m so scared that eddie isn’t going to make it for whatever reason. fuck.

#eddie updates #whiny baby post #honestly this is just a huge rant im just so overwhelmed by everything right now

[mothwithteeth]

my type is a man seedy and enamored enough to get me a poorly thought out exotic pet. i’ve been bouncing this idea around but never posted anything bc i thought it was silly and too indulgent but it is my birthday and i’ll do what i want

this is a combination drabble and info dump

stan pines x reader

The box Stan hands you has a neatly tied bow on the top, and half a dozen airholes on each side. “Careful, it’s kinda heavy,” he warns. Even with notice, you miscalculate how heavy this box is, and it sinks a few inches in your hands. Whatever is inside makes a noise of what you assume is irritation. What the hell makes a sound like that? You lift the lid off the box, fully anticipating a wiggly puppy or maybe a particularly big housecat, but instead you meet eyes with an actual, living, breathing red panda. 

You blink at it stupidly for a moment, trying to process how this happened. “Happy Birthday! You said they were your favorite! I remembered!” He did remember. You have to give him that much. 

One steadying breath later, you can finally ask: “How?” This is a highly endangered, notoriously elusive species. Even zoos go broke trying to take care of them. 

“I know a guy. Don’t worry about it.” Of course. He knows a guy. 

“Stan, I love you, and I am so happy you remembered, but I cannot keep him,” you try to break it to him gently. There is no way on god’s green earth you can afford to feed this thing, and it’s not like you can take him to your dog’s usual vet. You’re pretty sure there are limits to the “exotic” in exotic pets they see. They mean snakes and rabbits, not a Tibetan fuzzball. 

“‘Course you can. Got a little pen set up for him in the yard and everything!” You can only imagine the enclosure he built. You don’t need to see it. You already know. 

“No, we really can’t. I am not equipped to take care of something like this! Do you even know what they eat?” 

He does not. 

“Bamboo. Just the leaves. Pounds of it every day. And they’re not naturally friendly.” 

As if to disprove you, he reaches out to grab onto you. Rationally, you know he could sink his claws into you, but you let him climb up you. It doesn’t even hurt that much. 

“See, he likes you!” 

“Stan, they’re nocturnal, and they mark their territory constantly. And we can’t just neuter him like we did the cat.” 

“I mean-” 

“Please. You know I want to keep him, but he needs a real home that can take care of him.” It hurts to say, but it would hurt more to mistreat your favorite animal. 

“Alright, alright. I need to make a few calls.” 

A couple weeks later, you get to visit your friend at a nearby zoo that mysteriously received a donated red panda. He’s happy in his treehouse munching on his food. He’s not a pet, and you both know it.

#stan pines x reader #this is so dumb i love it

[casuallyimagining]

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, and @hoebii​​ for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid au #thebtswritersclub #yoongi hybrid au #hybrid bts #hybridyoongi #yoongi hybrid #yoongihybrid #yoongi angst #bts angst #min yoongi angst

[writemekpop]

Woof Woof | Osaki Shotaro

Pairing: Osaki Shotaro x Reader

Summary: Your husband Shotaro surprises you with a gift you can't afford... when you see it, you freak out.

Genre: Established relationship, Domestic fluff, Parents AU

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: Cheeky hubby taro getting his own way 

Gif: @junkhei

“Aah buhbuhbuh… aah buhbuhbuh,” Shotaro mumbled as he nuzzled his cheek against the little red nose of your baby girl, Suzu. 

“Are you even listening to me, Taro? That’s just enough money for diapers. Nothing else.”

Your husband Shotaro was a (failing) DJ, so you didn’t have a lot of spare cash. As he put down your daughter and left for the shop, you curled up on your couch. Soon, you were dreaming…

You were woken by a scratching noise. 

Shotaro was wrestling the door open with one hand, his other hand wrapped around a ginormous cardboard box. Still a little sleepy, you giggled. Shotaro looked like just a box with two jean-covered legs.

What the hell was scratching around that box?  

It didn’t take you long to find out. Because you soon felt a wet, hot tongue rubbing against your nose. A dog’s tongue. 

Shotaro had unleashed a three-legged little sausage dog into your house. It yipped excitedly, its wet nose sniffing around. 

“Osaki Shotaro!” you shrieked, jumping to your feet. “Who’s gonna feed that thing? Do you know how much a vet costs?”

Shotaro pouted, covering the dog’s floppy ears with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Choco,” he whispered. “You’re safe here.” 

“I’m sorry Shotaro, but the dog has to go.” You put on your sternest stare.  

Shotaro held the dog up, so it was at your eye level. 

Its little brown paws dangled out of Shotaro’s hands, and its wet black eyes seemed to be looking straight at you.

“Please, Y/n, I promise I’ll be a very good boy,” Shotaro said in a squeaky high voice. 

You chuckled. “That’s what you think the dog sounds like?”

“Will you be my mummy? Pleaseeeeee…”

Shotaro pushed the dog closer, and it lapped at your nose. 

You couldn’t shake your massive grin. 

“Aww, fine! We’ll keep the dumb thing.” 

You sighed. Why could you never resist your husband’s charms? He would be the death of you. 

Shotaro stepped towards you, holding your face with both hands. His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, and his fingers wrapped round the sides of your neck. 

As you gazed into your husband’s starry black eyes and cute mushroom nose, you just had to smile. 

“Great. Now I have three kids,” you whined, though your smirk kind of ruined your attempt to look annoyed. 

Shotaro grinned. “Can a kid do this?” 

He kissed a soft, sparking trail from your collarbone to your jaw. You felt your heart pick up and a shiver of breath leave your lips. Your body always reacted to Shotaro – and he knew it. 

All your money troubles seemed to melt away like cotton candy. Nothing existed but this moment, Shotaro’s lips on your skin, your sweet, sweet bliss. 

He leaned in to kiss your mouth, but… you stopped him by pressing one finger on his plump pink lips. 

“I am not sharing your lips with a dog!” you laughed. 

Shotaro smirked devilishly, then pressed his lips against yours anyway. They were sugary sweet, just like bubblegum – another thing he’d spent your money on! 

You couldn’t help it – despite the fact that you were meant to be mad at Shotaro, the kiss was so dizzying that you were already tilting your head to the side to deepen it. 

When you pulled away, you grazed your lips along Shotaro’s cheek, your eyes half shut. You weren’t quite ready to let him go yet. The slight roughness of his skin sent fireworks shooting in your belly. 

“Why can I never say no to you?” you moaned.

You felt rather than saw Shotaro smirk. “So… what if I said that Choco has a sister who really needs a home?”

“No!” 

—

MASTERLIST

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[thespamman24]

So, I know this is really long, but I worked very hard on it and I think that it might just be the best thing that I have ever written, so I would really appreciate if you read it, thanks.

I wish that I was a dog.

If I was a dog then I would sneak into my owners fridge and eat all of their bananas. All of them. I would keep doing it, over and over again. They would have to start keeping their bananas in secure places, but I would always find them. They could put the bananas in a locked safe and store it on the highest shelf, but somehow I would still manage to get those bananas into my big dog mouth. They would probably take me to the vet and ask the vet “Why does our dog keep on eating bananas?” but the vet would have no answer. The bananas didn’t seem to be making me ill, in fact I was more healthy than ever. Despite being a corgi, I had the strength of a rottweiler.

Eventually, they would just stop buying bananas. But that wouldn’t stop me. I would break into neighbors houses and steal their bananas. My hunger for bananas would consume my every thought, my every desire. I would grow and grow until I was twice the size of an English mastiff. Eventually, they would tie me to a stick like one of those naughty dogs but that wouldn’t stop me. I would still manage to break free, and then in a mad rage I would destroy the entirety of my owners furniture. 

My owners would have no choice but to take me to a pound. “It’s such a shame.” they would say “He used to be such a good boy, but then he just got really into bananas for some reason.” But no pound could be able to hold me. I would escape, and run all of the way back to my owners house. I would smash right through my owners door. My owners would scream as I snarled and raged and dashed across their house. Then I would plant myself in the middle of the living room and snarl. 

What could they do? They would rush off to the grocery store and grab as many bananas as they could. But that wouldn’t even be enough to satisfy me. They would have to start getting bananas in from the truckload. Spending thousands of dollars shipping in hundreds of bananas in, just to feed my appetite. I would get bigger and bigger, till I was 5 feet tall. “Surely, he’ll get sick of them. “ they’d say “either that, or he’ll die.” But I wouldn’t die, I would just consume and consume. Eventually, my owners money would start running dry. They would have to move out as my appetite grew. They would have to sell their house, which they worked so hard to afford to a woman named Patty so she could turn it into a thrift store. But I wouldn’t mind, all I wanted was bananas. Eventually, they couldn’t afford a home at all and they had to move to a large junkyard where they slept by snuggling me for warmth. It was in this junkyard that I would spend the entirety of my days, consuming more and more bananas. I would grow and grow till I was 8 feet tall. Then 10 feet. Then 20 feet.

Eventually, my owners would run out of money. “Please,” they would say “please buttons” (buttons would be my name of course) “We can’t get you any more bananas, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” but that would not sway me, and in a fit of rage I would swallow my owners whole. Then, I would leave my home city of San Francisco and make my way South, stopping at grocery stores to get my fill of bananas. I would sleep seldomly, with my only stops being to consume more bananas. I would run and run till I arrived in Costa Rica. 

Oh, what a sight that would be. A group of poor Costa Rican banana farmers toiling away, when suddenly from the horizon appears a 25 foot tall Corgi. “?Que Carajo?!” They would say “!El Perro Es Gigantesco!”

Then I would snarl and they would run away in fright and I would gourge myself on the bananas. I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer till I was 40 foot tall. I would indulge myself ina  feat of bananas never seen before and then eventually the government would hear of this and they would be enraged! They would send helicopters to shoot me down but I would bat them out of the sky. They would tanks and planes and all sorts of weapons of war but I would squanch them without hesitation. 

Eventually, the american banana companies would get worried, because their sales were dropping, so they would lobby for something to happen. They would obviously be successful, and then for the first time in history the united states government would declare war on a single dog. They would send the finest weapons that the world had to offer, all sorts of fighter jets and helicopters. They would send wave after wave after squandron of men and machines armed to the teeth. They would launch missiles and drop bombs and rain down everything they could on me save for a nuclear bomb. They would throw all of their military might at me, but they would fail. 

 At this point I would have become almost a hundred feet tall. I would tower over buildings and skyscrapers. People all over the world would begin to worship me as a god. The banana workers of Costa Rica who had slaved for so long began to see me as a savior, someone who had come down to rid themself of the oppressive yoke of the banana industry. But, I would be no savior, I would just be one big corgi that wanted bananas.

I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer, until there was no more. Then, I would move to Nicaragua, then to Honduras, then to Belize,then back to Nicaragua, then to El Salvador, then back to Costa Rica, then to Panama. I would scour my way through all of Latin America, devouring every bananas I saw till I was 150 feet tall and growing.

Eventually, the U.S. government would have no other option then to build a giant robotic mecha corgi.

This mecha corgi would be deployed, with some sort of trained pilot inside and me and this mecha would have the fight of the century- possible even the decade. We would pounce and fight and tear at each others throats- and then- we would lock eyes and something would take over me. Something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. My owners had previously neutered me but all of my banana eating had them grow back. Next you knew, the mecha would become pregnant with my son- a half corgi- half mecha corgi. A cycorg, if you will. 

But, I would not be around to see his birth, because I left my mecha girlfriend. I loved her, but I loved bananas more and so I left. I journeyed to Colombia and Venezuela and all throughout South America, always on the hunt for bananas, no amount of that sweet yellow fruit could ever quinch my eternal hunger.

The U.S. government would send more mechs after me, and I had some close encounters but, whenever things got to bad I would run. Eventually, things got so serious that I had to dog paddle my way to Africa. Thankfully, I managed to end up in Cote D’Iviore which was a country that the U.S. didn’t have any treaty or whatever with. I was safe. I gouged myself on bananas for many years sometimes I would think about that one true love I had, but my bananas kept me destracted. I didn’t even know that I had a son, or that he was growing up in a  secure facility in Nevada.

I grew and grew. At first, the government tried to stop me, but then they stopped. Eventually, they started to like me, they would bring me bananas and in return I increased tourism by 2,000%. In fact, I actually helped the economy of Cote D’Iviore. This allowed for many schools and hospitals to be buildt, massive reforms were passed in the government, infrastructure improved massively. Eventually, Cote D’Iviore became one of the most successful countries in the world and all it took was one giant dog. 

People would come from all over the world to see me, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was bananas. When I wasn’t eating bananas I was sleeping or killing people who were trying to kill me. Sometimes I would eat them, but people didn’t taste as good as bananas.

Cote D’Iviore started to run out of bananas so they had to ask Ghana and Cameroon for help in exchange for economy. This eventually lead to all three countries becoming one country, and this country became a prosperous nation. I quickly became the national animal of this nation. I was on the state flag and all of the coinage. Massive statues were buildt of me and the countries name was Terre De Chien Geant (land of the big dog). I payed no notion to this. After all, I was a dog and I didn’t even understand politics. All I understand was bananas. And now, the country was working very hard to get me as much bananas as I could eat because the tourism money was huge. I feasted on bananas until I became 400 feet tall. 

However, across the sea storm clouds were brewing. The United States government had no interest in killing me anymore. However, my Cycorg son was a rarity and of great interest to them. They figured that they could use him as a weapon to take on foreign threats. They got people to pilot him. I don’t know how it worked but the Cycorg needed a pilot.

Many years passed. Eventually, I grew till I was over a thousand feet tall. My Cycorg son did the same. 

My Cycorg son gets deployed on his first mission, destroying a military base in Libya. However, the U.S. government was foolish in thinking that they could control him. He turns away from the military base and instead goes in search of me. The pilot that is inside my Cycorg son is helpless to control him as he moves through Africa in search of me.

He eventually catches on the hiff of corgi and bananas and follows it through the Sahara desert till he arrives at the Northern tip of the country I live in. There he travels East, till he finds me. I’m laying in the field I usually am in when I hear the sound of extremely large paw prints and cock my giant corgi head. Then, I meet his gaze. He growls at me. I am the man who abandoned him. His worst enemy. He leaps forward and pounces on me.

Needless to say, I kick my dumb furry sons butt. I stand over him, my paw pressed on his metal exoskeleton. Then I sniff him and I realize who he is. And in that moment, I realize I was fighting my son! I have a son! I never even knew! But… I don’t care. All I care for is bananas. Why? I do not know. All I know is that I crave bananas, and I am a two thousand foot tall corgi so no one gets to challenge my authority.

I pick him up by the ear, and in a feat of corgi strength I carry him to the ocean and drop him in.

My son paddles away, ashamed.

 Then the Romulans show up. “Oh shit! It’s the Romulans!” Says everyone.Then the Romulans leave because the only reason why they were there was because they got their directions wrong. 

 Anyways, I go back to my usual resting place and my son, ashamed, dog paddles away. But, this feeling of shame quickly turns to anger and this anger quickly turns to rage. And so, when the U.S. helicopters show up to collect him he swats them down. My Cycorg son then goes berserk. He swims over till he reaches Florida. There, he goes ona  mad rampage.

First he arrives at Orlando, where he rips through the city. He reaches Disney World and Mickeys and Snow Whites turn to bloody pulp within his jaws. He journeys to Miami, and to Jacksonvill, and to Tampa Bay, and to Inglis. All fall before his wrath. Millions of people are slaughtered and billions of dollars are lost in property damage and thousands of cheese shops are destroyed. Mozzarella and blood lines the streets of multiple major metropolitan areas, and it’s all because of one kaiju cyborg corgi.

 The U.S. government throw everything they can at my Cycorg son, but they do not succeed. Eventually, they realize the only way to defeat him is me. But, how do they get me to come over to the U.S? First, they try a massive dog whistle. This does not work. Then, they figure it out.

I am chilling out in my field. When, suddenly in the sky I see the most beautiful sight that I have ever seen. A giant cat, made out of bananas. I leap up and run after it. Truly, this must be the most delicious thing ever created.

I dog paddle after it till I reach the coast of Florida, only to then realize that it was not real, but actually just one of those Macy's thanksgiving day parade floats. This enrages me immensely. I am about to go back to my home when suddenly I am tackled from behind. It is my Cycorg son! I don’t even have time to react before my Cycorg son chomps me directly in the paw. We tussle, and I could easily win but he has grown stronger and one of my paws is hurt. 

We fight and fight, our fight taking us out of Florida, to Georgia, and then to South Carolina. Eventually, after 78 days I stand over my son. I have won. But, right before I am about to make the killing blow, I hesitate. This is my son after all. And, in that moment of hesitation my furry son does a hecking chomp. I fall off a cliff and into the Atlantic. 

 I float through the Ocean, till I eventually reach the South pole. There, the water around me freezes and I am trapped in an iceberg, still alive.

 Meanwhile, my furry son has won. He howls victoriously. And then continues his rampage, going north. He knocks over the Empire State Building and shits on the Washington memorial. He humps the leg of the statue of liberty and pees on the white house. He demolishes the Sears tower and destroys Cleveland, Ohio. All fall before his wrath. All is helpless before my massive Cycorg son. Millions upon millions are killed. The U.S. lies in ruins. Meanwhile, I am literally chilling inside a block of ice.

My Cycorg son continues West, and some strange desire compels him to go to Los Angeles. He arrives there and moves towards Hollywood. There, right in front of the Hollywood sign. He digs. He digs and he digs till he reaches an underground chamber. There, in that chamber he finds Al Capone, the inventor of movies. 

Meanwhile, at this very moment I am being discovered by scientists. They find my body and put it on a plane. They then take my body and put in a giant truck. This truck is currently carrying me to a museum, which just happens to be in San Francisco, the place where this all started.

 My son finds the body of Al Capone, spread on a massive movie projector. He then picks him up in his jaws and bounds out of the chamber with Al Capone in tow. However, this ends up causing The Job Apocalypse, where people become abstract representations of their jobs. Lawyers turn into law books, doctors turn into medicine, and politicians turn into the flags of countries that they represent. And, the driver of the truck that I am on, turns into a truck. This leads to the truck I am on having a massive truck sticking out of the driver's seat, with one of it’s wheels on it’s pedal. This causes the truck to keep on moving forward, towards its destination of San Francisco, with me in tow.

But, my Cycorg son doesn’t have a job, so he is unaffected. He takes Al Capone's form and bounds up North. Eventually, he makes it to San Francisco, where he lays down Al Capone and lays down beside him. He then falls asleep, Al Capone right beside him.

Meanwhile, the truck I am in enters San Francisco from the East while my son sleeps soundly by the side of Al Capone.

Then, in the middle of the night comes Patty. Patty was there when it all began. She was the one my owners sold their house to, and thanks to that she turned the house into a thrift store. So, when The Job Apocalypse came she turned into a whole bunch of knick knacks in the shape of a human form. Patty makes her way towards my son and Al Capone. Then she sticks out what could be called an arm, and wacks Al Capone. But then, right as she does it she gets run over by the truck that is carrying me.

Or, in other words: knick knack Patty wacks EVA dog's Al Capone, his old man's come rolling home.

#long post #tw dog #tw death #tw blood #tw violence #writing #short story #fiction #humor #joke #jokes

[snails-tales]

Hey people I have an animal-related predicament that has been literally tearing my soul apart for months and I could really use some expertise or advice.

So I have mentioned before that I have cats, 2 to be precise, but they aren’t supposed to be mine, they were adopted by sister with the understanding that when she moved out she would take the cats with her. However when she got married her husband already had a cat so my sister said that she can’t take our cats because she couldn’t afford three cats as a newlywed so I ended up inheriting these cats because I love them and I’ve bonded with them.

Here’s my problem though, I am very mentally ill and I’m really struggling to give these cats the proper care that they deserve. It breaks my heart every single day thinking that I might have to re-home them because I would miss them dreadfully, they have been living with me and my parents for almost 5 years now and I’ve grown very attached. My mom has been helping me pay for their food and vet bills and she’s very good about reminding me when to feed them, but my parents don’t want cats, they didn’t sign up for having cats because they were supposed to be my sister’s cats, but she is about to have a baby now so she is never going to take these cats, they are my responsibility now.

Another big thing is that my father is a very intimidating and vocally aggressive man, he’s one of those people with uncontrollable rage impulses and the cats getting into things that they shouldn’t be makes him extremely angry. He has threatened to harm the cats multiple times, to which I threatened legal action, and I’m currently working on making enough money to move out because of this. But at the end of the day I can’t take care of these cats, I struggle the most with the litter box, sometimes going upwards of 14 days without cleaning it and I feel wretchedly guilty about it!! but it stresses me out so much and my executive dysfunction keeps putting it off until it gets really bad. I go weeks without showering or brushing my own teeth, I’m not in a place to properly care for these cats. Maybe if they used the bathroom outside like a dog does it would be much easier, but they are indoor cats because all cats should be indoor cats. My mom and dad absolutely REFUSE to help with the litter box in any way shape or form. Honestly the litter box and my angry dad are probably the biggest issues other than the fact that neither of the cats are physically loving or affectionate, in fact they openly despise most physical contact but they will cry and cry until they are fed and will sit a few feet away from you in solidarity sometimes, which is not the kind of companionship that I am looking for, I would really need an emotional support animal that can sit in my lap if anything. Don’t get me wrong I seriously adore these cats, one glance in my camera roll will tell you that I’m completely obsessed with them, but that just breaks my heart that much more that I can’t do right by them. I live in Texas in the greater Austin area, I don’t want them to go to a shelter I want them to get into a home that I can trust but I don’t even know where to start. Am I wrong for these feelings? Would it be wrong to re-home them??? I don’t know what to do

#please help #cats #animal help #cat help #six the cat #maeby the cat

[royalswille]

@ace-bookworm said Button House gets a cat and I said yes and then I wrote this, enjoy.

Buttons’ House

Alison and Mike Cooper had never intended to adopt a cat. After all, Button House was already full to bursting, what with the both of them, eight ghosts living in the main house, an entire village of plague victims in the basement, and the ghost of a pesky pigeon courtesy of their neighbour’s dog. Simply put, there was not enough space to add any more family members to Button House.

So the cat had taken it upon itself to move in.

It had started one morning while Button House was going through its usual morning routine. Alison had woken up, checked the bathroom for ghosts so that Mike could use it without fear, then started the stopwatch for the Captain’s run before putting on a record for Thomas to do his morning dance to. She had filled in a few words on Robin’s crossword, set up Pong for Julian, and put on a classic football match for Pat. In the next room, she had helped Mary with her phonics work, turned to the next page in Kitty and Fanny’s book, and then done the same for Humphrey (or rather, Humphrey’s head – god only knew where his body was). She had arrived downstairs in two minutes and thirty seconds to open the door for the Captain to run in, perfectly timed.

Everything was the same as usual.

“Two minutes thirty, Cap,” Alison said, stopping the timer. “Same as always.”

“Blast,” the Captain said frustratedly. “Are you quite certain of it, Alison? I could have sworn I shaved off a second or two, I really pushed myself on that last corner.”

She shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. I’m just going by what the timer says.”

The Captain harrumphed and peered out the door, beckoning Alison to join him. She did, looking out across the driveway to where he pointed at the gate.

“That’s my problem,” he said, waggling his finger. “The terrain switches from concrete to gravel. If you could just pave over the driveway then I’m quite sure I c– hello.”

The Captain’s tone changed abruptly and Alison raised an eyebrow. “Hello?” she replied, bewildered.

“No, no, not you,” Cap replied, pointing down the driveway again. “Look, over there. It’s a cat.”

Alison squinted and saw that the Captain was quite right. Trotting up the driveway towards the open door, mewing quietly, was a little cat. It was jet black with bright yellow eyes and looked a little tatty with its scraggly fur. As it got closer, Alison could see that its ribs jutted out from under its skin slightly. The cat looked happy enough, but it was very clearly a stray, or badly neglected at the very least.

It stopped just in front of the Captain and sat primly, looking up at him with its eyes squinted serenely.

“Can cats see ghosts?” Alison asked him.

“It would appear so,” he returned. With a painful-sounding cracking of his knees, the Captain crouched down in front of the cat and regarded it. The cat stared back, blinking happily up into the Captain’s face. It attempted to bat at the Captain’s swagger stick, which was hanging from his hands, but its paw went straight through.

“Yep,” Alison said, “it can see you.”

It didn’t appear the Captain was listening to her, because a moment later he pointed his stick at the cat and said, “Now you listen here. It is improper to try and touch a Commanding Officer’s person or belongings. Had you been a soldier – or indeed able to touch me – I should have you punished.”

“Captain, it’s a cat, it can’t understand you,” Alison told him.

He stood up again, knees creaking audibly. “Yes, well. That hardly matters – I am a senior officer and I– oh dear, good Lord, what is it doing now?”

The cat was purring, attempting to rub itself against the Captain’s legs lovingly, but simply passing right through, which only seemed to make it more determined to show the Captain its love. The Captain began to gag, reminding Alison of the ghosts’ inability to touch living things without feeling sick. Quickly, she scooped the cat into her arms and held it close – the Captain stopped his gagging, but the cat continued to purr, nuzzling at Alison’s face.

“It’s very affectionate,” she said through all the fur blocking her face.

“Quite,” returned the Captain, voice a touch more gentle than usual. “Do you think it has a home of its own?”

Alison stroked the cat and frowned. “If it does then it’s not a very good one. Look, you can see all its bones, the poor thing hasn’t eaten in ages. And look at its fur, it’s disgusting. And it stinks.” The cat stopped purring momentarily as if offended. “Sorry.”

“Well,” the Captain said, assuming his usual military-man stance, bouncing once on the balls of his feet, back straight, stick tucked under his arm. “If this creature is in need then perhaps we should provide a home for it.”

“What? No, we can’t do that. Captain, the house is more than full already, we can’t add a cat to the mix.”

“During the war we never left a soldier behind!”

“This is a cat, not a soldier. I’m sure it’ll find a home eventually, just not here.”

As she said it, the cat laid its head upon her shoulder, purring again, eyes closed. It appeared it had decided that in Alison’s arms was the perfect place to go to sleep. Alison had always been a cat person and wanted nothing more than to cuddle the cat, even though it was probably riddled with disease and it stank like rot, but she knew if she did that then the cat would start thinking that Button House was its home. It would start coming back and they couldn’t have that. So with a heavy heart, she gently placed it down on the floor.

“Sorry,” she said to it as it looked up at her sadly. “I’ll feed you just this once because you look like you need it, but that’s it. Right, Captain?”

The Captain muttered something under his breath as he often did when he felt put out, then turned on his heel and left, stretching the way he liked to after his morning run. Alison went the opposite direction, leading the cat to the kitchen to find it something to eat.

It was halfway through the plate of tuna she had laid down for it when Mike came in. He looked down at it, then to Alison, then back at the cat before saying bewilderedly, “I don’t remember getting one of those.”

“That’s because we don’t have one,” Alison told him. She watched fondly as it ate its food – it clearly hadn’t eaten in months judging by the way it wolfed the fish down. “This is a stray, it followed the Captain in this morning after his run.”

“Uh huh,” Mike said slowly, sitting down to watch the cat too. “So why is it in our kitchen?”

“I’m feeding it.”

“Yes, I can see that. Why though?”

“Because,” Alison said emphatically, picking the cat up as it wandered absently towards her, then turning it to face Mike. She held its paws in her hands and wiggled them back and forth like a bad puppeteer. “Look at it! It needed some sort of food otherwise the poor thing would probably die. It’s not like we’re going to keep it, I just wanted to make sure it lived.”

“You remember what happened to my Auntie Barbara,” Mike replied. “She accidentally adopted so many neighbourhood strays that her house was practically overrun with them. And then what happened to her? She died. Because she was allergic to cats and there was so many that it killed her.”

“I never understood why she fed them and stroked them in the first place if she was so allergic,” Alison returned, to which Mike shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. We aren’t keeping it.”

“We don’t get to decide that,” Mike said, “the cat does.”

The cat, from its place nestled on Alison’s lap, meowed in agreement.

“Well, if it shows up again, we just won’t let it in. Agreed?”

“Agreed. We can’t afford another mouth to feed. It is cute though,” he admitted.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Despite how adorable the cat was, Alison let it out the front door. She watched as it obediently walked away, tail a little higher than it had been before, looking healthier and perkier. She knew she shouldn’t have been hoping it would come back, but a little part of her didn’t want to say goodbye.

Luckily, she didn’t have to. The very next morning, she opened the door to let the Captain in from his run (“Two minutes and thirty seconds, Captain, but I think you knew that already.”) and hot on his tail came the cat, smiling as obviously as a cat could.

In spite of her better judgement, Alison took the cat into the kitchen again and fed it once more. She knew she shouldn’t have been, but she was already growing very attached to it. Despite its awful smell and awful condition, she felt a soft spot for it. Absently, she wondered if she should take it to a vet, just to get it checked over and see if it had a home. But she was snapped out of her thoughts by one of the loudest things known to mankind – Lady Fanny Button.

“What on Earth is that disgusting creature doing in my house?!” she shrieked, pointing wildly at the cat, which kept eating its food just as peacefully as before.

“Relax, Fanny, I’m just feeding it,” Alison explained.

“Whyever are you doing that? That creature is clearly a stray, probably riddled with fleas, and you’ve brought it into this house like it’s nothing! It’s going to defile this beautiful house and you shall be the one to blame for it, Alison. I want it gone at once!”

“Fanny, it’s not doing anything, okay? Calm down, look, it’s just having something to eat, it needs it.”

“It is a very small step from eating to… to defecating, young lady!” Lady Button retorted. “I shall not have that thing in my house, ruining everything! Take it away.”

“I thought you liked animals,” Alison tried. “You had Dante when you were alive.”

“Dante was a well-behaved, loving, healthy, clean dog. He was not some stray we just picked up off the street one day because we felt like it!”

“Well,” Alison said, “to be fair, we haven’t picked up the cat because we feel like it, it kind of invited itself in.”

“If anything that makes it worse,” Fanny yelled, sounding appalled. “Not only does it smell ghastly and look unseemly, but it is rude as well. It clearly has no manners. I will not ask again, Alison, take the cat out of this house!”

At that moment, the cat finished eating and turned around to try and bat at the hem of Lady Button’s dress. Though it couldn’t touch it (for obvious ghostly reasons), Fanny screamed and took a few paces back. She started yelling more nonsense at Alison, something along the lines of ‘get it out’ and then ran straight through the wall, out of the kitchen.

Sighing, Alison heaved the cat into her arms, took it through the house again and let it out through the front door just like the previous day. She watched it wander away once more, though this time it stopped in the middle of the driveway to wash its leg briefly. She shut the door behind it and got on with the rest of her day.

It wasn’t until the next day, day three, that Alison realised that the cat situation was likely going to become permanent. When she opened the door for the Captain, he did not run in as usual, so she peered out of the door and saw him crouched in the middle of the driveway, attempting to pet the cat but failing miserably because each time his hand passed right through and he gagged.

She watched for a minute, stifling her laughs so that the Captain didn’t hear her and realise she was watching which would likely make him stop. Soon she was joined by someone else.

“Good morning, Alison,” Kitty said, bounding up to her, smiling as brightly as ever. “How are you today? Oh look – the Captain has made a friend!”

Alison chuckled. “He has. It looks like they’re getting on very well.”

Kitty gasped excitedly then said, “It’s a cat. That means it’s a kitty, just like me!” And without further ado, she skipped over to join the Captain and the cat. The Captain looked mildly disgruntled, their moment having been interrupted, but he smiled as soon as the cat started purring, trying to bat at his swagger stick again and jumping at the bows on Kitty’s dress.

A moment later, Mike joined Alison. He looked out at the cat, watching as it jumped and played with what would seem like nothing to him.

“Are there ghosts out there with it?” he asked Alison.

“Yep,” she returned, popping the ‘p’. “Cap and Kitty. They’ve really taken a shine to it.”

“Well, like I said,” Mike replied, “it is really cute, I don’t blame them. Have any of the others met it yet?”

“Only Lady B,” Alison told him. He raised an eyebrow and she continued, “She wasn’t a fan.”

Mike hummed and a silence fell between them. Alison had been thinking more frequently that they really should take it to a vet. Even though it was happy and eating properly when she fed it, getting it checked over wasn’t a bad idea. It didn’t mean they had to adopt it – it just meant that they could have peace of mind knowing it was alright.

She was just about to say this to Mike, but he got in first and said, “I think we should keep it.”

“What?” she replied, shocked. “Why? Two days ago you were worried it was going to kill you.”

“No,” he said, “I just suggested that it’s a possibility we can’t rule out. But you clearly like it, and I think it’s cute, and if the ghosts like it then maybe it’ll – I don’t know – like, placate them a little.”

“They’re not dangerous, they don’t need placating,” Alison said. “Is this just the same as when you said we should get Netflix to ‘appease’ them after they’d finished watching every DVD we own?”

“No,” he said, sounding too affronted to be telling the truth. “Plus, we won’t be caring for it on our own, will we? We’ve got eight extra pairs of eyes to keep a lookout for it. So we can all look after it, it won’t be just us.”

“Only one of those ghosts can touch anything,” Alison told him. “We’ll still have to clean up its poo and stuff like that. And you’re terrible with poo.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’ll be on poo duty.”

“No. If we’re adopting this cat then we’re sharing poo duty. That’s the price you have to pay.”

The both of them turned to watch the Captain and Kitty playing with the cat again. It jumped up to try and grab the feathers in Kitty’s hair and she giggled delightedly.

“Alison,” she called, “it’s so lovely! Come and play with us, please!”

She turned to Mike. “Okay. We’re keeping it then.”

He tore his gaze away from the cat and smiled. “Yeah. Why not? Let’s do it.”

“Great,” Alison said, clapping her hands. “I’ll call the vet, see if they can get us an appointment to make sure it’s all healthy and see if it’s microchipped. I hope it doesn’t already have a home.”

“If it does then we can just get another one,” Mike said, slipping an arm around Alison’s shoulders. “There’s a shelter not too far away.”

“I like this cat, though. I want this one.”

“Well, we’d better get that vet appointment to see if we can have it then, hm?”

And so, not four hours later, Alison and Mike made their way back to Button House from the vets, the kitten nestled comfortably in the back seat. Their appointment had gone very well – the cat was in surprisingly good health for a stray, they had got it up to date on its vaccinations, and they had determined the cat didn’t have a home. So, to the couple’s delight, it was allowed to stay at Button House.

The house was unusually quiet when they arrived back. That normally meant that all the ghosts were assembled upstairs partaking in one of Pat’s clubs or another. There was the faint sound of scattered applause as Alison walked through the front door – one of them had probably finished giving a speech.

She gently put the cat down on the floor as Mike shut the front door behind them.

“Right, missy,” she said. The vet had also confirmed that the cat was a girl and about six months old. “Welcome home!”

The cat meowed and trotted off down the hallway, seemingly in search of the source of the clapping. Alison wandered after it, and the cat led her upstairs to the common room. She found the ghosts all gathered around together, most of them on the sofa, Julian and Robin by the chess board, and Thomas in full view of all of them, bowing even though their half-hearted applause had long since ceased.

Lady Button was the first to notice the new arrival and she didn’t seem best pleased.

“Alison,” she shouted, standing up and pointing at the cat furiously. “I told you to get rid of that vermin, that vile creature, I do not want it in this house!”

“Now listen here,” interrupted the Captain, brandishing his swagger stick. “That cat happens to be in dire need of our assistance. I think it only right that Alison has brought it inside.”

“And it really is a sweetheart, too, Lady Button,” Kitty gushed.

“You’d probably think a grizzly bear was a sweetheart,” Fanny retorted.

Robin shook his head, saying, “Grizzly bear never sweetheart. Grizzly bear kill my uncle. Was very funny actually.”

“Excuse me,” interjected Thomas, “I still have four more poems I want to perform!”

As happened far too often to be endearing anymore, the ghosts all started yelling over each other, some insisting they get rid of the cat, some insisting it stayed, and Thomas insisting he be allowed to finish his recital. Alison watched them fight, the cat sat at her feet, watching bemusedly too, before finally stepping in after Julian and Thomas started squaring up to one another.

“Alright, alright, enough!” she shouted.

Shouting only worked about half the time, sometimes the ghosts’ arguing would be  so loud that Alison couldn’t even hear herself over it – luckily, this time around the ghosts fell silent and looked towards her expectantly.

“Okay,” she said, “everyone just listen to me. Mike and I decided that we’re going to adopt this cat–”

“Outrageous,” interrupted Lady Button. Alison ignored her.

“We’ve taken her to the vets. She’s in perfectly good shape and she doesn’t seem to have a home, so we’re taking her in. She might need a little TLC before she starts looking…”

“Less like a toilet brush?” suggested Julian, eyeing the cat.

Alison frowned. “Before she starts looking herself. But we’re keeping her, no objections. Okay? She really is lovely, I promise you all.”

“No, no, no,” shrieked Mary, standing up and joining Lady Button as far away from the cat as they could get. “Al’son, you can’t keeps the pussycat.”

“Why is that, Mary?” Alison asked, trying not to sigh.

“Because you’ll’s be branded a witch!” Mary explained, sounding as if it should have been obvious. “If a woman have a cat then she be a witch! They’ll burns you at the stake! I’d know.”

“Mary, lots of people have cats now and they don’t get burned to death. Alright? And you know I’m not a witch.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Right. Okay then.”

Without further hesitation she crouched down and smiled at the little cat. It purred and tried to bat at her apron. But it appeared Mary took that as an attempt at attack, so she yelped and ran, hiding behind Kitty.

“You can keeps the pussycat, Al’son, but please keeps it aways from me.”

“If you’re quite finished with the witchcraft nonsense,” said the Captain, stepping forward, “then might I ask if this cat has a name?”

“Oh,” Alison said, “well, Mike and I were going to brainstorm later this evening–”

“That seems hardly fair,” Cap returned. “We all live here, we should all name it.”

“Yes,” said Kitty, bouncing up and down. “I think we should call her Princess Snuggles.”

The Captain laughed. “No, thank you, Katherine, that’s a silly name. I was thinking something more like Major Fuzzyboots.”

“And how, pray tell, is that any less silly than Princess Snuggles?” asked Thomas flatly.

“Well, I don’t see what’s wrong with any classic cat names,” Pat said, peering down at the cat. He stretched his hand out to scratch her head, then looked as if he had to hold back vomit, and withdrew his hand. “Something like Luna or Shadow. Something simple, like.”

“Boring,” Robin remarked. “Should call it Cat. Save trouble.”

“No offense, guys, but I think I’m just going to talk it over with Mike,” Alison decided – the ‘all these names are terrible’ wasn’t spoken aloud but was heavily implied and she was sure they got the picture. “We’ll come up with something. Come on, missy.”

Alison hoisted the cat into her arms and was about to head back downstairs with her, when Julian’s voice piped up from behind and said, “Why not call her Buttons?”

The other ghosts made noises of agreement, which was rare.

“Buttons?” Alison said, looking at the cat. “Well, I suppose she does look like a Buttons. And it’s like Button House! Oh, I love it, nice one, Julian.”

He straightened his tie and suit jacket. “Yes, well, if anyone was going to be the one to solve this – uh – cat naming crisis, well then, I suppose it only makes sense that it were me. It’s not the first crisis I’ve solved, not by any stretch of the imagination. Did I ever tell you all about the time, back in eighty-three, when I…”

Alison didn’t stick around to hear the rest of whatever godawful story Julian was planning on telling. She left the room and headed back downstairs to get Buttons some food and tell Mike they’d decided on a name.

Over the next few weeks, Buttons’ presence in Button House seemed to be almost completely accepted by everyone living there. There had been a few unfortunate incidents and teething problems, but nothing that wasn’t fixable.

The first real problem came two days after Buttons’ adoption. Nobody had been able to find Humphrey’s head, which was predictably detached from his body. Kitty remembered placing it down on the kitchen table, but all they found there was Buttons. Everyone had been searching the house (including Mike, though he couldn’t see Humphrey, and Humphrey’s body, which couldn’t see anything at all) but it hadn’t been until Alison had picked Buttons up that the head had been discovered.

It turned out that Buttons had taken quite a liking to Humphrey and decided to sit on him. The problems arose when Buttons obviously couldn’t sit on Humphrey and instead ended up in him, which obscured the head from view completely. And it didn’t help that Humphrey was allergic, something that apparently hadn’t changed in death. His face was red and his eyes were watering when Alison finally picked up Buttons and freed him.

“Oh, thank goodness for that,” Humphrey breathed. “I’ve been shouting for hours, couldn’t anyone hear me?”

“You must’ve been muffled by Buttons’ fur,” Alison suggested. “Sorry Humphrey, I’ll try to stop that from happening again.”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Alison. It’s alright, really. Well, apart from the allergy, and the sick feeling from having something living touch me. But really, no need to go out of your way.”

Another issue was that Robin just didn’t seem to get on with Buttons. She loved him, clearly – in fact, Buttons seemed to adore everyone in Button House (except Mike, for reasons unknown to anybody) – but one day Alison had walked into the common room to see Robin yelling at the cat.

“Oh, you think you so big, so clever. I kill mammoth. I can easy kill little cat!”

“Woah, hey,” Alison said, approaching the two. Buttons was stood on the chess table, gazing up at Robin with nothing short of adoration in her eyes. “Why are you threatening to kill my cat?”

“Ruin chess game,” Robin huffed, jabbing a finger in Buttons’ direction. She tried to pat it and he grumbled, “Go away.”

“She’s just a cat, I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

“She did. She jump on table and hit all pieces off. Little guy and horsey on floor, me no pick them up!”

Alison did it for him, picking up the chess pieces and placing them on the squares Robin instructed her to. Buttons quickly lost interest, hopped off the table and left the room.

“And stay out!” Robin called after her.

Thomas didn’t seem to be the cat’s biggest fan either. Alison had a sneaking suspicion that his hatred towards her stemmed from the fact that he had been trying to recite yet another unwarranted love poem to Alison but she’d not been paying attention, instead playing with Buttons. She had caught him seeking his revenge later that day, leaning over Buttons as she slept on the sofa, and whispering what sounded like a demand for her to duel him. Alison had decided to avoid that situation altogether and quickly backed out the room.

The only other ghost who wasn’t totally enamoured with Buttons was Julian, who seemed very indifferent on the whole subject. Though Alison did once catch him practising one of his speeches on the cat, who seemed surprisingly attentive.

But for the most part, Buttons was adored. Many a time, Alison came across the Captain or Pat pretending to stroke her or sitting by her as she slept. Kitty and Mary would play with her (though Mary was still a little wary and periodically asked Buttons if she was a witch in disguise). Even the plague ghosts adored her – she had managed to sneak down to the basement when Mike left the door open once, and the ghosts had tried their hardest to adopt her for themselves. They were happy with the agreement they reached with Alison though, that she would let Buttons down there once a week to visit them all.

The biggest surprise of all came one lazy evening when Alison had been on her way to bed, a sleepy Mike in tow. They had passed through the common room where a fire was dwindling in the fireplace. Buttons was curled up in front of it, sleeping soundly, and watching her with a fond expression on her face was Fanny.

Alison smiled and cleared her throat. Fanny looked round, looking a little startled and embarrassed to be caught gazing at the cat she had been so against.

“Alison,” she said, but didn’t seem to have any words to follow it up with.

“Is she growing on you, then, Fanny?” Alison asked, stifling a yawn.

Fanny turned away, facing Buttons again, and said, “Well. She’s certainly no Dante. But I can admit now that she is rather sweet. I suppose it’s alright that she stays here.”

Alison watched as a small smile grew on Fanny’s face, watching the gentle rise and fall of Buttons’ chest.

“Goodnight, Lady B,” she said.

“Goodnight, Alison.”

From then on, all the residents of Button House treated Buttons as if she were all that mattered, even Robin and Thomas, whose grudges quickly wore off. It seemed that despite the fact that Button House was already full to the brim, adding little Buttons made the house a home.

#everyone say Thank You Izzy for this beautiful idea #bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #fanfiction #fanfic #the captain bbc ghosts #kitty bbc ghosts #alison cooper #mike cooper #lady button #fanny button #robin bbc ghosts #thomas thorne #julian fawcett #mary bbc ghosts #pat butcher #the plague ghosts #fic #writing #my writing #six idiots #humphrey bbc ghosts

[the-adventures-of-dave]

Bring that cat inside!

Transitioning your cat from an outdoor cat to an indoor cat.

Maybe you’ve decided to bring your cat indoors because the weather is getting colder. Maybe your neighbours are mad that she digs in their garden. Maybe you want to make it easier for your cat to recover indoors after a surgery. Maybe the dangers of the outdoors now outweigh the rewards, or you’ve moved to a neighbourhood that is not cat-friendly. Whatever the case, it’s fantastic that you’ve decided to keep your cat safe and happy indoors, but now the question is: how do you do that?

If a cat has lived his entire life outside, it may seem like a daunting task to keep him inside. In the long term, it will be better for his health, and if you provide enough enrichment, warm spots to nap, and plenty of treats, there won’t ever be a reason for him to go outside again.

If your cat is particularly stubborn or does poorly with sudden change, it may be beneficial to move your cat indoors gradually. Slowly increase her indoor time as the days go on, until she gets no outdoor time at all. If you can’t gradually move your cat indoors, you can try doing this cold turkey, but be aware there may be more problems.

Make the indoors exciting. Provide Fluffy lots of cat trees and a variety of toys (self-play, interactive play, and puzzle feeders are all great enrichment). If your cat is entertained enough inside, he won’t need to go outside to get that entertainment.

Provide lots of cozy napping spots. If the weather is getting colder outside, the perfect spot to snooze might be the ticket to keep your cat inside longer.

Give Kitty many places to climb and hide. Use vertical space to give your cat more space to explore in your home. Cat trees and cat shelving are excellent ways to expand your cats territory. If you can’t afford fancy cat shelving, try arranging your furniture so that your cat can climb on it and survey her territory from above.

Introduce the litter box and scratching posts early on in your transition. If you don’t already have scratching posts and a litter box, he may not know what they are and how to appropriately use them. Show him how to use the litter box by placing him in it and making a digging motion with his paws. Similarly, show him how to use scratching posts by scratching it with your own fingers near him. (Look further down the post for how to work around issues with the litter box and scratching)

Feed your cat inside. If you normally feed your cat outdoors, bring the food inside. Make the indoors a place where Fluffy will get all of his food and water, so he will associate the indoors with good things. If you normally let him outside immediately after feeding him, try keeping him indoors for a little while after doing so. Gradually increase the time he spends indoors after meals until he doesn’t go outside at all.

Spend quality time with your cat inside. If your cat is a cuddler, reward them for choosing to stay inside with cuddles and pets. When he is outside, ignore him completely. You want him to realize that the outdoors is going to be less rewarding than inside.

Keep your cat inside at night. Night time is more dangerous for outdoor cats due to predators and reduced visibility on roads. Keeping him in at night, dawn, and dusk can keep him safer and increase his indoor time.

When you let your cat out, do it right before mealtimes. She won’t want to stay outside long with an empty stomach, and should then choose to spend less time outdoors.

Tire him out. By playing with him using interactive toys such as a feather wand, all he may want to do is sleep afterwards. Try to get him panting while using his feather wand to really tire him out. If he is asleep after, don’t wake him up to let him outside, even if it’s during your regular scheduled “outside time”. Just let him nap right through it.

Once your cat has been fully transitioned to the indoors, you can try introducing safe ways for him to still experience the outdoors. This can be in the form of opening a window, providing him a catio (enclosed escape-proof patio), or harness training him. This can give him all the enrichment he needs from the outdoors, but also keeps him safe.

Common Problems with the Indoor Transition

If you can’t transition your cat gradually, or your cat is particularly anxious towards change, you may run into some problems. Here are some common problems and suggestions on how to work around them.

Meowing at the door. Your cat may want to go outside on occasion. Causes of this could be because she is bored, or maybe the house is chaotic and she just needs some peace and quiet. If your cat is meowing at the door and you can spare some time, distract her using some interactive playtime (ie. feather wand), clicker training, or give her a puzzle feeder to use. Should the meowing be because she wants some peace, provide her some spaces to hide so she can take some time away from the action around the house. If you don’t have any time to spare, simply ignore her. She should eventually learn that meowing won’t help her get outside, and will be discouraged and stop.

Scratching furniture. Try not to be too upset at your cat for scratching the couch. Remember, he is used to being allowed to scratch anything and everything, so this part of the transition may be difficult and confusing for him. Providing a variety of scratching posts/objects in places where he most commonly scratches can help manage his scratching. Try to provide both vertical and horizontal scratchers in a variety of materials (carpet, cardboard, sisal rope, etc). Reward him for scratching one of the appropriate scratchers with treats to encourage that behaviour. Try to block off inappropriate scratching places when possible to prevent him from scratching there. As he gets better at using his scratchers you can remove the blockades.

Peeing outside of the litter box. Again, she is not doing this out of spite, but simply isn’t used to using only a litter box. Provide your cat multiple large uncovered litter boxes around the house with a variety of litter in them to encourage her to use the box. Some cats like fine litter, some like pellets. Experiment and see which she likes best! Sometimes it helps to bring in some dirt from the outdoors to put in a litter box for her to use, as that is what she is used to. As she gets more consistent about using the box, you can gradually change the litter from dirt to regular cat litter. Please note: if peeing outside the box is a consistent problem with no sign of change, it may be an indicator of a health problem and you may need to speak to a vet.

Door dashing. Your cat might want to escape the house for a variety of reasons. In order to manage this, make the door a cat-free zone. Don’t make a fuss and pet your cat there before you leave, and when you come home don’t stop to interact with him either. You shouldn’t be opening the door while your cat is nearby. To prevent this when leaving, give your cat a puzzle feeder or some wet food across the room to distract them. Alternatively, you can carry some high-value treats in your pocket or purse and throw them across the room before you leave. When returning, throw that treat again for him to chase to keep him away from the door. When you get inside, reward your cat again (away from the door) for making a good choice and staying inside.

Remember: if your cat is exhibiting any strange behaviour, it may be a good idea to contact the vet. While it could just be your cat being upset about the changes you are making, behaviour problems are often indicators of health problems in cats. It’s better to be safe than sorry!

Best of luck with your kitties and helping them move inside this winter! Indoor cats lead safer, healthier lives, and I wish you all the best in helping them live their best life.

#cats #catblr #petblr #outdoor cats #indoor cats #useful stuff #text #long post #photo

[bitchapalooza]

Hetalia nekotalia headcanons(covering just a few of them)

It seems weird that the cats would just be called "Italy-cat" by the actual nation whose name is already Italy so I wasted my time in figuring out their possible breeds and searching up acceptable names(unless stated otherwise) for them that the nations may pick for them and even where the nations obtained these cats. I think they've come to value these cats on the same level as themselves due to how long they may have been around(the same goes for whatever other pet(s) they may own). I thought this was a fun thing to do and honestly it was! :)

Might do more when I get the time again~

***Tw for mentions of animal abuse***

Americat:

Domestic long hair, possible Maine Coon mix!

I think America adopted his cat in the 1980s. He was just a kitten, abandoned outside a supermarket in a box with a sign with one other kitten inside. At least 2 months old. America, having a big heart and soft spot for animals of any kind, took them both in. However he was already struggling to buy proper food for his other animals so he needed to find a different home for them. America ended up keeping one, as he fell absolutely head over heels for him, and named him Liberty— for obvious personal reasons. America raised him for the majority of his life as an indoor cat but with how much energy he has he decided to train him to be an outdoor cat as well, even teaching him to use the doggy door. This gave him enough room to actually grow faster into the adult cat he is now compared to if he'd ALWAYS be around America(as in staying small due to the slow aging around America).

Canacat:

Domestic longhair, possible Maine Coon mix!

Canada adopted him after America offhandedly asked. Canada was pretty stuck when it came to naming him. It was 4 weeks into owning him, mostly calling him a range of names such as Paul and Rookie but never sticking to one for even one whole day, but when Canada was just sitting there eating breakfast before leaving for his daily duties, just a normal quiet morning it came to him. Again, he was just sitting there. That is until the kitten figured out how to climb onto the chair next to him that is. He sat there meowing and pawing at Canada's thigh for 10 minutes while Canada ate. And then he tried to jump onto the table 3 times in a row. Canada gave in and allowed him up there for a minimum of 3 minutes. Not even 1 second passed and suddenly the little rascal is trying to steal the last couple bites of pancake. That was apparently what he wanted. And so Canada named him Pancake! Pancake was an energetic little kitten that a spring in his step but he did mellow out as he grew into adulthood. He's mainly an indoor cat. Come winter time when it snows, Pancake has a tendency to forget the existence of snow so he goes bolting for it only to regret it later.

Germany-cat:

A black or gray German Rex!

Germany isn't exactly a big cat person, he prefers dogs. But after this kitten followed Prussia's cat all the way home and noticed how thin he was he couldn't resist taking care of him. Germany ended up naming him Maus in reference to how tiny and often silent his meow was as a kitten. Now it's just a hilarious name as he's grown quite big and has a very strong meow! Maus is a very well behaved cat although it seems he doesn't favor being played with. He's most often seen at the top of his cat tower or in the window basking in the warm sun. As he was previously found as a stray outside he still does favor being outside. He tends to escape whenever Germany unlocks the doggy door or when Germany let's the dogs out in the backyard to run around for a bit. Maus may be a very mellow cat but he does tend to be loud when he wants food and doesn't want to wait for it. He also tends to attack people when suddenly being pet.

Prussia-cat:

An albino German Rex!

Prussia adopted him in 1998 after his and Germany's new home became a little overrun with mice. Prussia affectionately named him Gunther. Gunther was a spunky little kitten, in fact he was the runt of 6 other siblings and noticeably different to his siblings in appearance(originally thought to just take after the father's white coat despite the orange coats of his siblings and mother). Prussia chose him, the teeny little runt, after watching him easily sneak up and take down his bigger sister and win the play-fight he started. Prussia proudly took him home and trained him to catch the mice! Some years later, Gunther apparently got curious and brave and got loose outside. He was gone for weeks. He came back with a limp, a fresh scar, and a kitten clinging to his side. Gunther rarely escapes outside anymore. Prussia didn't know Gunther was albino until took he took him to the vet for his shots.

Itabby and Romano-cat:

They're both European shorthairs!

When the Italies were freshly unified and everything was still pretty awkward they were forced to go bond by taking walks every morning. Veneziano didn't mind this, he enjoyed the morning and even more so the countryside around them. Romano however could care less about it all and just wanted his bed back. Veneziano was all conversation, very observant of his surroundings as he commented on them to strike up an interesting conversation. And that's how he noticed a man cruelly stuffing two kittens into a sack on their way out of town. After alerting his brother, the two confronted the man. The man claimed these two were sick because neither were getting any of their mother's milk like the rest. Romano demanded he hand the kittens over or else he'd regret it. Veneziano annoyed him with his whining to the point where he gave in and handed them over quite harshly. Once they got them safely away from the man they took a look at the 1 week old kittens; they were both terribly skinny but clearly hanging on for dear life and the brothers both agreed, for once(well more like Romano kept saying "whatever the fuck you want"), that they wanted to help these poor creatures. Luckily for them they knew a stray cat that just had another litter of 3 and could perhaps try to get her to accept two more. And she did! Well it took a day but she did eventually take them in and feed them. Veneziano immediately decided that once they were old enough to eat solid foods he was going to keep one of them and name him Gino! It took a while for Romano to warm up to the idea of keeping even one but he eventually did. He took the other kitten and named him Sonno. They've lived so long due to just how clingy they are to the brothers. Their aging was so slowed down because of how often they're near the Italies that they didn't become fully grown adult cats until some time around 1932.

Japan-cat:

Japanese bobtail!

Named Yoshi* for being Japan's little lucky charm. Yoshi was left behind by his previous family after they moved away. He left his home and began wandering around until he got to Japan's house. Taking notice of how the cat stuck around his house, Japan began feeding him. And feeding him. And feeding him. And eventually he accepted the idea that he was now a cat owner. Not knowing his previous name, Japan decided to rename him Yoshi. Because of Yoshi, Japan began to come outside more and more each day as he is an outdoor cat that seldomly comes inside anymore. What's more is Yoshi came into his life in 1999, just a few months before 2000— aka when The Lost Decade was coming to an end as well as his personal on and off string of depressive episodes. Japan spoils Yoshi with treats and only the best cat food he can afford!

*The real name given to him by Himaruya is Tama, most likely a reference to calico cat Tama from Kinokawa, Wakayama Prefecture, Japan(that's at least what I've gathered). Before I knew this(in my early fandom days) I headcanoned his name to be Yoshi, as I said above it was a reference to luck(I didn't have as easy and unmonitored access to the internet as I do now so I never had a steady way to look these things up). I like Tama as well but I still can't get the name Yoshi out of my mind! I'm not sure if Yoshi and Tama can be combined like some names here in America can be combined(like Lilian Pad[as in Lily Pad] or Patches Poo) and I don't want to attempt it in case I get it wrong no matter how much research I do.

Austria-cat:

Domestic longhair!

Austria has quite the soft spot for this kitty surprisingly. He was born on his estate after his mother wandered in and settled between a couple bushes in his garden. He was born one of three kittens, almost entirely identical to his mother. Austria ended up giving names to all the cats but this one specifically was named Mozart— for very obvious reasons on Austria's part. The mother cat and two of the other kittens ended up moving along a year later after Austria decided to renovate part of his house; however the only one to stick around was Mozart. Austria would let Mozart come inside if only he could manage to pick him up. Mozart will jump into his lap outside, brush up against him, greet him in the morning, allow him to come near(especially with food and clean water) and even pet him but he won't ever peacefully allow Austria to carry him. Mozart was originally thought to be a Ragdoll however it was France who identified him to be a simple domestic longhair instead.

China-cat:

Burmese cat!

Originally a stray that endlessly bothered a shop owner and his own cat, China attracted his attention when he fed him only once. This cat followed him all the way to the hotel he was staying at not far from the little shop, which annoyed him greatly but honestly gave him a little laugh as well. As his car ride home was only going to be an hour at best he decided to at least attempt to bring the little fella home for proper care and attention. And obviously it worked. On his way home he decided a name like Zhi seemed perfect for him! Something told China Zhi was used to car rides and being around people, which told him Zhi was originally in a loving home. Feeling a little sad that this nice loyal cat was living on the streets he began to pamper him. Now Zhi expects to be brushed twice a day, let out at least once a day to soak in the sun's warmth and lay in the soft grass. He's fed the best food possible, has more toys that he knows what to do with. China's cellphone is overrun with videos of Zhi playing fetch— a trick he didn't teach him which, to him, is further proof he had a previous owner.

Russia-cat:

Siberian cat!

Taken in from a rescue shelter, at first fostered, then adopted. Russia kept the name the shelter gave him, Boris, as it fit him very well considering his past. Boris was unfortunately neglected when his previous owner was around. His fur was matted, he was skin and bones, upon pick up he had an eye infection. He was terribly scared of people. After being treated and showed kindness, it wasn't very long for him to open up. When Russia came along and took him in to give him all the proper attention he lacked, Boris fell in love with it. And Russia fell in love with having a cat around. Before anyone could swoop in and try to adopt Boris, Russia already put in to adopt. Now Boris is a happy healthy cat who's favorite toy to play with is Russia's supply of yarn. Boris loves bird or feather based toys the most, however, and will often drag his favorite feather wand over to Russia so he'd play. He's not much of an outdoor cat but after being kept mostly in a small cage since birth he does enjoy at least laying on the porch outside.

France-cat:

A Sacred Birman with light creamy point colouration!*

Obtained as a newly born kitten in 1992, France had offered to help nurture him as his mother had died shortly after giving birth. France named him Minou, more so in honor of his deceased mother Minet rather than it being a common French cat's name(some assume he was lazy with his naming). Minou grew up to be properly spoiled and loved by France. From the time he could see and walk properly, France began putting light outfits and accessories on him for very small amounts of time(like hats and ties mainly to avoid overheating). Minou often silently greets France at the door whenever he comes home, barreling through the hallway or off the couch in order to get some much needed love and attention. He surprisingly gets along very well with France's pet birds, only ever going after them once as a kitten. Minou can be found in his luxurious cat bed made of cardboard from the cat tower's box and a quilt France had crafted long long ago that's now drastically torn in various places. OR he can be found planting his fanny on France's face at night, nearly suffocating him. Minou seems to have a likeness for Russia and England.

*I know France-cat doesn't have any visible point colorations to him but him being a Persian doesn't fit him in my opinion, especially a blue eyed white cat. There's a high percentage of blue eyed white cats being deaf. However a common trait in Birmans are blue eyes so that, to me, fits better.

Iggycat:

Scottish fold-American shorthair mix!*

Obtained through a small litter from a colleague. England named him Lopsy  immediately upon seeing him, completely falling in love with him. Due to Lopsy's health concerns(osteochondrodysplasia) he's strictly an indoor cat. He's not very playful due to the pain he endures so he's prone to lay about, especially in England's lap, in his cat bed that sits directly under the window to reach the sunlight, or under England's bed. Despite being on them for so long, it still takes quite the struggle to give Lopsy his medication as he's come accustomed to when England is preparing to give it to him. As he's not very active, Lopsy isn't too fond of France's, America's, or Canada's cats— all of which tend to love playing together. However there are times when Minou is in non-playful mode where Lopsy will lay near or eat with him, but will absolutely refuse to lay with since Minou does have a tendency to attack another cat's tail without warning.

*The reason I see him as a mix is due to the major health concerns breeding two Scottish folds together can bring. However, breeding a Scottish fold with an American shorthair or British shorthair is often the better choice as there's less issues involved. There's talk about banning the breed all together. Even with this talk, breeding persists, preferably for cat shows from the sound of it. There's even research going into fixing these health concerns but it seems incurable due to the Scottish fold disease seeming to be a very dominant trait no matter what secondary breed it's bred with. Scottish fold disease doesn't always occur in a litter, mostly being a 50% change.

Spain-cat:

European shorthair!

Named Vivo for his lively personality, this little guy was found in the rain, drenched and hungry. He looked to be roughly 3 months old, very well fed and groomed so Spain assumed he had a family he ran away from for whatever reason. Without any other solution, Spain took him in until someone came to pick him up. A few weeks go by without anyone coming to claim him, so Spain opted to keep Vivo. Vivo is very loving, he possess a strong purr and often falls asleep purring. He's a lap cat but also has a tendency to curl up on or near Spain's shoulder when he's on the couch. Vivo is mainly an outdoor cat, often chasing mice or other vermen away from the garden without ever destroying it. Spain is pretty grateful to of found him as it had gotten quiet with Romano gone and all. And Vivo defiantly brought some noise to the house! He's not always vocal but when he is he tends to run around happily meowing for attention. He's surprisingly very territorial however— when introduced with then young kits Gino and Sonno, the Italies' cats, Vivo almost attacked them. It took small steps forward to get the three of them to warm up to each other. It also took a while to warm Vivo up to Minou and Gunther.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #nekotalia #nekotalia headcanons #hetalia america #hetalia romano #hetalia veneziano #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia spain #hetalia austria #hetalia prussia #hetalia germany #hetalia china #hetalia canada #hetalia japan #this took aaaaaallllll day lmao #worth it tho #i learned a lot about cats! :) #tw animal abuse

[gothic-lolita-gambling-girl]

Headcanons for Trigger Happy Havoc Girls adopting/caring for an animal with their s/o

Pairing: THH Girls x reader

Genre: Fluff (I guess?), sfw

Warnings: none

Length: 1693 words

Author’s Note: This wasn’t a request, and the length for each character is very inconsistent. Most of these look unfinished because I was constantly running out of ideas, so I’m sorry for that. ~Mod Celeste

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aoi Asahina:

Animal(s): Fish

When you first tell her you want to adopt, she thinks you’re talking about a human kid, so she freaks out

You were not, however, and when you tell her that you were talking about an animal, she somehow gets even more excited

She starts talking about all of the different species and how cool each one is, going back and forth, trying to decide which one would be cooler to have

Somewhere along the way, she gets the idea that adopting a literal shark would be a good idea

You quickly shut that down, suggesting something a bit more... manageable? affordable? obtainable? instead

Reluctantly, she agrees to starting out with a simple goldfish

Later that month, you stop by the pet store to look at all the fish available

Having done a bit of research prior to the visit, you decided on a couple of common goldfish (Aoi wanted more than one, and you figured it would be easy enough to take care of two)

After purchasing the fish, and all of the accessories that you need to purchase with it, you do a bit more research on how to take care of a pet fish

When you get home, you help Aoi set up their new tank, filling it with gravel and other accessories you had bought, moving them into it while following the instructions you read online

I feel like she’d want the fish to swim with her, which you’d then have to explain to her that you can’t put your pet goldfish in a pool because they would die

She would then suggest that you get a bigger tank so she can sit in there with them, but you’re able to talk her out of it, thankfully

While she may be a little dense at times, she’s still a very good pet owner

Celestia Ludenberg:

Animal(s): Grand Bois Chéri Ludenberg (her canon pet cat)

uh

Grand Bois Chéri Ludenberg is a thing

So this is basically just you taking care of him because yeah

Ok so like,, you know how Celeste treats her cat like a god?

Yeah, so do you

You literally pamper this cat so much

He refuses to eat dry cat food, and he expects his meals at exactly the same time (he’ll throw a fit if they’re even a millisecond late)

Normally, you and Celeste take turns feeding him

He won’t sleep in any bed if either you or Celeste aren’t in it, and you had to buy one of those step ladders for dogs to put at the edge so he can climb up because he’s too lazy to jump

If you go even twenty minutes without giving him affection, he’ll either walk up and start hissing at you, or he’ll just ignore you the rest of the day

He likes the room temperature to remain at exactly 70 degrees, and he won’t accept anything above or below that

Overall, he’s very high maintenance, but it’s worth it in the end

Both you and Celestia love the cat very much

Toko Fukawa:

Animal(s): Bugs

I’m pretty sure she has a pet bug

That’s canon, right?

Okay, so,,

Kameko Fukawa

When you’re first introduced to Kameko, Toko’s nearest and dearest friend, you’re not really sure how to react?

Of course, you’re not going to judge Toko because of it, you’re just?? shocked??

You love the small bug regardless, and you help take care of her whenever you can, even just keeping her company sometimes

When Toko informs you that she was thinking about getting a friend for Kameko so that she wouldn’t be as lonely, you help her find one

Surprisingly, your local pet shop happened to have a small variety of insects for purchase

After asking which type the pet store worker would recommend, you finally decided

Excitedly, you introduced Kameko to her new friend and though you couldn’t really tell, she seemed happy to have someone new to interact with

Genocider Syo:

Animal(s): Bugs

Oh God why would you trust her with any type of living being?

You have to keep a very close eye on the two bugs to make sure that she doesn’t lose them or anything

She’d probably be very careless with them, and the last thing you want is for them to be lost, injured or killed

Even though she doesn’t really bother to take care of them, she still cares for them, but she’d never admit it

She’d probably talk to them when nobody else is around (which is rare, considering the fact that you don’t really trust her), telling them all about the events of her day

She cares for both bugs more than she’d ever admit

Junko Enoshima:

Animal(s): Bichon Frise (Dog)

Yet another person who should never be trusted with a living being

You’re hesitant to adopt any kind of animal, knowing how careless Junko can be

After a long disagreement, you finally decide to visit multiple pet stores before making your decision

In the end, you decide on a bichon frise

Junko pays for most of the supplies, but you end up having to take care of the dog mostly by yourself

You take her on walks, feed her, take her to all of her vet appointments, etc.

You also have to make sure that Junko doesn’t try to harm the dog to feel dEspAir

Though she makes several attempts, you always manage to stop her in the end

Just,, never leave them alone together, maybe?

Kyoko Kirigiri:

Animal(s): African Grey Parrot

Kyoko didn’t really have much of an opinion on getting a pet, so when you ask her, she’s indifferent

She wouldn’t care what type of pet it is, she just wants to make sure that you’re able to take care of it properly

After a few weeks of contemplating, you decide on an African Grey Parrot

You already had a bit of experience with taking care of birds, so you figured it would be a good idea to get something you had handled before

At first, Kyoko acts mostly uninterested in the bird

Of course she helps you feed them, clean their cage, etc.

She’ll even talk to them on a very rare occasion, asking them questions she knows they can’t answer out of boredom

As time goes by, she slowly becomes more and more attached to the feathered creature

She even suggests getting them a friend to hang out with so they don’t feel lonely when you’re both gone, even though she rarely leaves them alone

Mukuro Ikusaba:

Animal(s): Wolf

Mukuro has wanted a pet wolf for as long as she can remember

She didn’t care what breed it was, she just wanted it to be a wolf

So, when you asked her how she felt about getting a pet, that’s what she suggested

Yes, she understood how difficult it would be to not only get a wolf, but also to care for one

However, it was all worth it in her eyes

Reluctantly, you agreed to looking into it, at the bare minimum

Once you had enough money (which Junko was willing to lend you hoping that the wolf would eventually attack you both or something), and you had found somewhere you could purchase them from, you finally got your new pet

Mukuro spent hours each day caring for and training your canine, preparing it for treatment in the wild if that’s where it ended up again

She also felt that it would be a good idea to use the animal as a sort of guard?

If anything were to happen to her, she would expect that they take care of you and keep you safe

Since Mukuro is used to very harsh training, she sometimes ended up overworking the wolf

You’d notice this, and you would ask her to go a little easier on the creature

Of course she didn’t notice that she was putting them through so much, and she made an attempt to control herself a bit

She doesn’t want to end up hurting them, and she’s a little afraid that she will one day

Sakura Ogami:

Animal(s): Rabbit

Sakura had been thinking about getting a pet, so she decided to approach you about it

When she had asked you about it, you said it was a nice idea, and you helped her decide on what type of pet to adopt

Almost immediately, the two of you had decided on a rabbit

Sakura was rather fond of them, as they never seemed scared when she held them

So you sought out to find a shelter to adopt one from

The second you laid eyes on your pet, both you and Sakura fell in love with them

You knew that they were definitely the one, there wasn't a doubt in your mind

The small mammal would sit by you and Sakura and watch her prepare her protein shakes, train, etc.

Sakura would make sure that your rabbit has a very healthy diet, and that they drink lots of water so they can be strong

Sometimes, when you and Sakura aren’t available, you would have Aoi babysit them

After watching the bunny the first time, she would ask if she could do it again frequently

Sayaka Maizono:

Animal(s): Sugar Gliders

Sayaka calls you to tell you that she’s coming back home from being on tour and that she has a surprise

When she walks through the door with a pair of sugar gliders, you are both shocked and ecstatic

She tells you that one of her friends is moving into an apartment that doesn’t allow pets, so they asked her if she could take care of them for her

They had nobody else to go to, so she said yes

You were still a little bit worried about it, but she reassured you that she had watched them before, and that she knew how to take care of them

She makes sure to tell you how to take care of them, and she makes sure that you’re comfortable looking after them by yourself while she’s away

#danganronpa x reader #mod celeste #mod celeste has no idea what she's doing #mod amy #trigger happy havoc