Squeezy Heart Syndrom

Internet, meet George Nathan Weasley*.

Hai there. Please to ignore random box of crap. Focus on the pretty kitty.

Nathan, nee George was found by the humane society’s UPS guy mostly dead on the side of the road. His fur was dirty and matted, he was bruised and cut and bleeding, he had a wonky ear and according to the volunteer who did my paperwork she thought they were just holding him until they put him down. That’s how bad off he was.

He popped up on the website a few minutes before I was leaving work to visit two other cats. I read his bio and my heart felt funny (I think I was experiencing what you all call feelings, but I’m not sure I’m pronouncing that correctly) and just like that I went from ‘not yet’ to ‘you come with me now’.

Dude has been through the ringer. They shaved him down and addressed every issue one by one and I’m unreasonably excited to see him in all his long haired glory. He had teeth pulled, eye issues, a borked ear, fur issues, skin issues, poo issues and who knows what else. Well, I mean I do. I’ve got seven pages detailing every cut, bite, cracked tooth and oozy eye. (Westley had five pages. I’ve got a soft spot of the ones who have had it rough.) He’s had every test they run. twice. He’s got the world’s saddest, scratchiest, broken sounding meow you ever did hear and there’s a strong possibility that at some point I’ll record it and post it here because we’re just embracing the foreveralone at this point.

He’s another five year old maine coon – exactly what I was trying to avoid given that sudden heart failure is more common with them. And it makes me 19 kinds of nervous that I’ve just set myself up for some serious pain. But when you’re dead inside and your heart gets all squeezy you pay attention.

He’s settling in fairly well. I’m getting used to his not-Westleyness and he’s getting used to me. He learned this week that sound sleepers are not allowed in this apartminium as it SCARES THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME WHEN YOU DON’T MOVE AND I CALL YOUR NAME. He’s a shameless face rubber – pushing his face against any available surface that he can reach. He’s unbearably sweet and as much I hate that Westley is gone I’m glad I’m able to give George a home.

*If you get this reference we can totally be friends. We can probably be friends even if you don’t get it, but only after you read the Harry Potter books.