#I have been watering CAT POOP for a WEEK

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag | next →

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist. 

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle. 

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge. 

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'. 

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang. 

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter. 

...You never did text Dabi. 

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment. 

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow. 

Things are great! 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week. 

You're sure the novelty will wear off. 

He's probably not even going to respond. 

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account. 

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen. 

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny. 

...So, there are two options. 

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught. 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you. 

His lips twist into a scowl. 

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth. 

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch. 

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore. 

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen. 

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is. 

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward. 

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again. 

When you start typing, the bubble disappears. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint 

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service  him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing... 

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy....really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society. 

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.  

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did. 

[heldbybarnes]

Where the Light Used to Be

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Death, grief, war themes, memory loss (dementia/Alzheimer’s implications), references to past violence, implied injury, hospitals

----------

You always joked that Bucky would outlive you.

"You’re a damn super soldier," you’d say, flicking his shoulder, "You’ll be climbing mountains when I'm stuck yelling at the neighbor’s cat for pooping in the garden."

He’d laugh, tuck you under his chin, and promise, “Not going anywhere without you, doll. That’s the deal.”

But promises don’t mean much when the brain forgets how to hold them.

The diagnosis comes in a white room that smells like antiseptic and defeat. You don’t cry, not then. Not when the doctor says “neurodegenerative” or “possible early onset Alzheimer’s due to prolonged trauma.” Not when Bucky grips your hand and says it’ll be okay.

You wait until you're in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

Then you shatter.

It starts slowly. A missed appointment. A forgotten pot on the stove. You catch him staring at a wall once, blinking like he’s in a different time, a different body.

You call Sam that night, voice breaking like glass.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper.

Sam comes over the next morning. Brings groceries and doesn’t mention how Bucky couldn’t remember his name for the first ten minutes. He just puts on a movie and sits next to him, the way brothers do.

You will always love Sam for that.

Some days are good. Bucky remembers the garden you planted. He helps water the tomatoes, kisses your cheek, and tells you he loves you like he always has.

Other days… You find him curled in the hallway, whispering Hydra activation codes through his teeth. You sit with him, heart torn open, whispering You’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky. You’re mine.

Eventually, he stops reciting them.

That’s when you start losing him.

The last time he calls you by name is on a Tuesday.

It’s raining. You’re trying to fix the leaky window in the living room, swearing under your breath. You look up and there he is, standing barefoot in his worn flannel shirt, hair a mess, eyes a little clearer than they’ve been in weeks.

He smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You drop the wrench. It hits your foot. You don’t feel it.

You just run into his arms.

And for five minutes—five perfect, stolen minutes—he remembers.

He remembers everything.

The wedding. The night you met. The way your voice sounds when you're laughing at your own bad jokes.

He kisses you like it’s the first time again. Cries into your neck. Holds your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For when I forget.”

You just nod, because you can’t speak past the lump in your throat.

He doesn’t call you anything but “miss” after that.

One night, you wake to screaming.

Bucky’s not in bed.

You find him in the backyard, naked from the waist up, knees in the mud, blood on his knuckles from punching the earth. You wrap a blanket around him and try to guide him back inside, but he jerks away.

“Where is she?” he growls. “What did you do to her?!”

“Bucky—”

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

You don’t argue. You fall to your knees and hold his face in your hands.

“I’m right here,” you whisper. “It’s me. I’m safe.”

His breathing slows. He blinks at you, pupils wide with terror.

Then he starts crying. And you just hold him until the sunrise.

Eventually, the house becomes unsafe. He leaves the stove on. Walks into traffic. Hurts himself during night terrors.

You take him to a facility where they have quiet rooms and gentle voices. It tears something inside you to sign the papers. You sit in the parking lot for an hour, clutching his wedding ring in your hand.

You don’t go home for a while. Because home is where he isn’t.

You visit every day.

Sometimes, he smiles at you. Sometimes he flinches away like you’re a stranger.

Once, he mistakes you for his sister.

Another time, he tells you about a girl he loved once. “She had paint under her fingernails all the time. Smelled like oranges. I think I loved her,” he says wistfully.

You bite your lip so hard it bleeds.

Because he’s talking about you. And he doesn’t know it.

There’s a nurse named June. She calls you every evening. “He had a good day,” she’ll say. Or “He didn’t eat much, but he was calm.” You start to live for those calls.

Until one day, she doesn’t say anything at all.

Just breathes, once. Then:

“You should come. Now.”

You sit beside him, clutching his frail hand, metal fingers long replaced with a smooth prosthetic. There are deep lines on his face now. Not age—just wear. The weight of too many wars, too many lives, too many memories that have gone to dust.

His eyes open, slowly. Cloudy. Unfocused.

You lean close. “Hi, Buck. I’m here.”

There’s a long pause. Then, miraculously, a flicker.

“…Doll?”

You choke out a sound between a sob and a laugh.

“I’m here. I’m always here.”

He squeezes your hand. Barely.

“You—you stayed?”

“Of course I did.”

A single tear slips down his cheek.

“…Love you,” he whispers, so faint you almost miss it.

“I love you too.”

You stay until his hand falls limp in yours.

Until the room goes quiet.

Until there’s only the sound of your heart breaking.

He’s buried beside Steve.

There’s a plaque with both their names. It doesn’t say "hero." It doesn’t need to.

You bring sunflowers every week. He used to say they reminded him of you—bright, stubborn, always turning toward the light.

You sit in the grass and read aloud from his favorite books.

You keep talking.

Even if he can’t hear you anymore.

Even if the wind is the only thing answering back.

Because that was the promise.

Not to live forever.

Just to love until the very last second.

And God, you did.

You still do.

You always will.

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

FF7: Random Bits 04 - Chapter 1

The office door opened and a nurse poked her head into the waiting room. "General Strife? He's awake and just about ready to go," she said.

Cloud paused the cat video he had been watching and stuffed the phone into his pocket. How many videos had he watched in the last forty minutes? He'd lost track after the tenth one, not that it mattered. What else was the internet for, if not for watching cat videos and looking at memes?

Besides, there wasn't a doctor's or dentist's office on the planet that had anything actually interesting to do while you waited, unless you enjoyed reading informational pamphlets on embarrassing diseases (you know which ones I mean), reading ratty, out of date magazines which always seemed to be missing pages, or had the one interesting article cut out, or watching the informational programming which always seemed to have a segment about bodily functions like 'Everybody Pees'. If you were feeling particularly bored, you could always have a go at the ever present Bead Rollercoaster, or if you were really lucky, the 6-in-1 playcube activity center (with counting gears, abacus, tic-tack-toe, and three different bead play options!)

Cloud had actually been considering giving the activity center a go, but a toddler had already laid claim to it, and had obviously not been taught that sharing is caring.

"The extraction went well," the nurse informed Cloud as she led him to one of the many exam rooms lining the hallway, "Er, after we got him sedated."

"Ah, yeah..." Cloud mumbled awkwardly.

Getting Zack to agree to have his festering molar pulled had required a great deal of convincing, which involved Cloud, Angeal, and three 1st Class ELITEs physically manhandling him from the training field all the way to the exam chair.

One of the new 3rd Class ELITEs had been attempting his first Shift, when the abscess around Zack's rotting tooth had finally ruptured. One minute Zack had been standing there normally (aside from the swollen lump on his left cheek), and the next minute he was projectile vomiting like a geyser.

The smell had been horrific. A Smell Connoisseur, had such a thing extisted, would have described the stench as a full-bodied, toohtsome malodor that had not so subtle overtones of fleshy putrefaction with smoother hints of vegetable decay and, for some reason, brimstone. The Average Joe would have described it as akin to a stew of week old corpses simmering gently over a burning trash heap.

Cloud and Angeal had each grabbed Zack by an arm and started dragging him to the Infirmary. Zack had Shifted and dug all four paws into the ground, screeching and twisting, spraying puss and rot-stink like a busted water main.

All the frantic movement had only served to stir up the smell to an intensity that caused it to physically manifest itself as a cloud of fog in the distinctive color of Baby Poop Green. It had swirled around the three struggling figures, trying to choke them with greasy, fetid tendrils that went straight for the gag reflex.

Three 2nd Class ELITEs had jumped in to help, demonstrating great constitutional fortitude and earning themselves two days of no drills. Between the five of them, they had dragged Zack along, escorted (and slightly obscured) by the sinister green cloud. Their progress was marked by the caustic effects of the The Smell. Paint had peeled, plants had withered, metal had tarnished, wood had blackened, carpets had curled, and two plastic chairs had gone runny by the time Zack had finally been deposited in the exam chair. The Smell had been banished to the waiting room, where it had lingered only briefly before meeting an untimely end at the hands of a nurse armed with a can of air freshener.

Cloud entered the room and found Zack slouching in the the exam chair, grinning widely at a point several hundred yards away. If his eyes had been anymore unfocused, they would have been looking in opposite directions.

"Hey, Zack," Cloud called, with a slow, exaggerated wave.

Glassy eyes slowly floated into positions suggesting reasonable focus, and the light of recognition flicked on.

"Heeeeeeyy...look a' this!" Zack slurred proudly as he waved his arms around over his head.

"Er, that's great, Zack,"

"Innit tha' cool?"

"Uhh, yeah. Good job. Are you feeling okay? You look a little out of it." Cloud remarked in an amused tone.

Zack just gave him a pumpkin grin in reply and blinked, which would have been completely ordinary, had both of his eyes actually blinked in unison.

Wondering just how doped up Zack was, Cloud leaned close and very deliberately said "Knob."

Zack's goofy grin faltered for a split second as a look of vague unease flitted very briefly across his features.

"Wow! You really are out of it!" Cloud chuckled with an amused smile.

Zack watched through a drug-induced haze as Cloud turned to speak with the dental surgeon. He giggled to himself as Cloud's head turned away, but his mouth stayed where it was, continuing to speak while hanging in mid-air. Every time the mouth spoke the word 'and', a tiny wooden bird on a stick sprang in and out of the mouth like a Cuckoo clock, but instead making of the classic cuckoo! sound, the melodic whistle had been replaced by the voice of Samuel L. Jackson shouting 'Cuckoo, Mother(censored)!'

Cloud had turned back to Zack, and was asking him something, but Zack wasn't really paying much attention. He was too busy watching Cloud's facial features shuffle themselves randomly around his face. Both eyebrows and one eye charged at the nose trying to invade their territory. For a moment, it looked as if the nose was going to win, but then the other eye and the mouth swooped in and drove it back to its proper place. There was a moment of peace, before the nose twitched and then everything started warping and sagging like a Salvador Dali painting.

Zack laughed as Cloud's last remaining facial feature, his left eye, slid down his face like a raindrop, gathered at his chin, then finally dripped on to his shirt front to join its brothers. The other 'facey' parts cheered and wiggled around before beginning the climb back up.

Zack completely lost it when Cloud's mouth flapped up into the air, stuck itself to the face of the exam room wall clock like a Colorform sticker (80's babies, you know what I'm talking about), and started making rude noises.

"You should probably monitor him for the next twenty four hours, since he seems to be having trouble with both the sedative and the anesthesia." the surgeon instructed while Zack whooped with laughter and went Thhpppbbbttt! at the wall clock.

"Obviously," Cloud remarked wryly as he pulled one of Zack's arms across his shoulders and heaved him out of the chair. Zack snickered, mumbling something about balloons as he was led unsteadily out the door.

Cloud sighed and shook his head. It was going to be a long afternoon.

[lordofthecoffee]

Spent all my spare time last week racing the rain and clawing back the grass and buttercups so I could enlarge the garden beds. Got it done, but the buttercups are already fighting back. Everyone spouts stuff like Oh, gardening is good for the soul! Gardening is free therapy!

Gardening is DEEPLY frustrating, as well as creative. Things die from season to season, or never come up at all. The timing for direct sowing is basically Not yet... Not yet........ HURRY HURRY QUICK! Well, now you're late ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And for all the pretty, there are bugs and brambles and noxious weeds. Deer and rabbits, trampling dogs and poop machine free-reign cats. Squirrels that eat your tomatoes While they're still green?? C'mon...

Tree roots where there shouldn't be, and shrubs that outgrow the spaces you plant them. Pesticides leeching over from the neighbor. Claggy soil, clay, rocks--- basically, soil amendment for days. Crop rotation. Late frosts and heat waves. Dormancy periods where everything is dust or mud and just so damn deep in the uglies.

~85% of your plants' woes will come down to either too much or too little water, and damned if you can tell which.

And I do love gardening. Every spring, I break my back prepping everything. It's rewarding, and satisfying, and REALLY FUCKING HARD. Like most good things in life, it's not just one thing.

I keep reminding myself that when we moved, this^^ was all there was. There wasn't a single established plant or shrub or solitary flower in the grass wasteland that was the backyard. Every inch of bed that exists today was hard won-- this same space is now home to 50+ varieties of plants and flowers (give or take some annuals and whichever veggies I can eke out of The Garden of Perpetual Disappoinment).

What sprouts looks different from year to year. Progress will probably always fall short of what I hope for. Some days, it all feels slow and inadequate (I blame my retired friends who have been in their houses for 30 years). But it's infinitely better than where we started; we're getting there.

Piece by piece.

[cowplant-pizza]

meet: benjamin 🧡🐱

ben is the reason i have been semi active the past few weeks. he’s the latest addition to my family, and although i technically adopted him, i feel like this situation was really more of a rescue…

i want to preface this whole situation by saying 3 things though

- ben was adopted from a very ill lady

- i did not know that ben might have health issues and was actually told the opposite

- he’s booked into the vets for thursday morning

ok so bens story is a bit of a weird one. i became good friends with the lady who fostered george (my kitten) for the charity who i adopted him and nora from. she’s known that i’ve been on the lookout for another cat, and messaged me as soon as she found out about ben, previously named fluffles.

he was being rehomed for free from a lady who had become too ill to care for him and his brother. her brother adopted bens brother. however, the story didn’t *start* there. apparently back in january of this year, ben, then fluffles, and his brother plus another cat were found in bad conditions on the streets. a neighbour was feeding them and offering them a makeshift shelter in their garden, and the charity took them in as strays. the cat they were with was in such bad condition it had to be put down. when finding out ben and his brother were microchipped, they had to legally return them to the ill owner after a short stint in a foster home.

skip forward to now and the lady realised that she was being neglectful due to her illness and wanted to rehome them. upon meeting them they seemed like lovely people who really cared about the wellbeing of the cats and i hate to think otherwise, however…

the way ben acts is genuinely as if he has never felt love. he seems so grateful for the warmth and safety of our home. he didnt leave his plush bed by the radiator for almost a whole week and needed his food and water brought to him.

he is covered head to toe in scabs. and he spends a lot of time grooming and itching. luckily they flead him before he left with us but my heart breaks feeling all the scabs over his body. they are literally everywhere. we also constantly find skin and fur that he has scratched off, so he is obviously uncomfortable, itchy and probably very sore.

to me, he seems a bit skinny. he isnt eating consistently but he does eat a little bit, and he loves treats. his poops and pees seem fine so hopefully thats just him adjusting to our routine.

the most worrying part for me though is that he has lumps on his belly. we tried to leave him be for a few days before really fussing him as not to overwhelm him, but amazingly it seems like he loves belly rubs! and when he was getting lots this evening, it feels as if his nipple areas have bumps beneath them. i have my fingers crossed that its just the glands that are infected, and will be fixed with antibiotics. i am hoping and praying it isnt cancer. if it is… i dont know what i’ll do. his backside area also looks slightly swollen.

i’m mad because either the family i adopted him from knew about these bumps and didnt tell me, or they just failed to notice them altogether. apparently he visited the vets about 3 months ago. shouldnt they have been picked up on then??

i just hope this is a “simple” case of neglect, and with the right love and care and medication, benny will be okay 🧡 however any advice leading up to his vets appointment is much appreciated!!

[seat-safety-switch]

"He is named Mr. Biscuits. But she... she is named Ms. Biscotti."

I have been volunteering at the animal shelter over the last couple of weeks, as part of my court-ordered community service. Before that, I was out on the highway, picking up garbage. Unfortunately for me, I was tempted by a broken-down Chrysler Imperial on the side of the road, and attempted to fix it to help out the owner, and not at all to drive away with it at high speed. This drew the ire of my supervisor, who shot me with a beanbag round.

Sub-lethal ammunition aside, the animal shelter had been treating me quite well. They gave me water and snacks, for instance, and I got to become friends with a grumpy old tabby who would only piss in the box when I was around. Everything was going according to plan, until it happened.

"Here are the new enrichment toys for these cats. Ooh, they look so realistic. Here's a little Toyota Corolla–"

It was clearly a Toyota Corona, but I can see how someone born in this country, and who had failed to be educated about Japanese domestic market shitboxes would miss that. I took a deep breath, lowered my heart rate, and she continued without noticing.

"And I think this one is a VW Beetle. Cute!"

There was absolutely no way that someone could mistake a Fiat 600 for a VW Beetle. Like, come on. This person – my new supervisor – was a secret oppressor placed here by my haters, to attempt to get me to violate my parole conditions. Still, I maintained my composure, drawing on the anger-management skills that had been drilled into my head by a combination of prison group therapy and mood-altering medication. I sat there, crosslegged, and watched a small orange kitten climb into the Corona. This, I assumed, must be Mr. Biscuits.

I fully expected the cat to immediately leap out of the car and continue on his usual kitteny antics of knocking things off shelves, chasing the reflection from my phone screen, and excessively odorous pooping. That didn't happen. Mister Biscuits sat in the drivers seat and seemed to be working the steering wheel and little shifter, his brow furrowed with intent.

Did I tell anyone? No. My volunteer duties were clearly indicated in the contract that I signed when I began work. When Mr. Biscuits stole that Power Wheels a couple years later, and led the entire police department on a high-speed chase after knocking over a pet food store, I wasn't surprised. The community gives back what you give to it.

[weebsinstash]

stay hopeful for your cat! i thought mine was going to pass at 11 as well but she bounced back and passed at 20 years. stay strong stay strong!!

Due to everyone's help and donations, I have enough money to take Allister back to the vet, and still have some left over to have him euthanized if they deem it necessary, so I'm taking Allister back in today since it seems like he's doing worse. He's been plugged pee-wise for at least two days and that's two too many. They're going to have to manually express his bladder and xray him to see the poop situation

He is continually struggling to eat. I got him to eat last night but this morning, he's more interested in cuddling up in my lap. I can only get him to take tiny baby licks. He's not drinking water besides what he's getting in his food, and I haven't seen him try and even enter the box since Saturday

I just... the vets have to examine him and I have to hear what they say

There's a selfish part of my heart that wants to say "but he might pull through on his own, wait some more" but he's obviously feeling worse than he was last week. He was still eating last week, and that was after being so constipated you could see the blockage under his tail. And again, not peeing is much more serious, and they might be able to fix that by just expressing his bladder. I don't think that would take away his appetite though :(

My biggest fear is like... what if he could recover. What if he's euthanized and he actually would have pulled through if I gave it another day or so. But I need to see the vets before I can have that hope. And also, it's like, "would I be buying him days or years?" And even the vets wouldn't know that for certain. Miracles like what you're talking about happen all the time

Fingers crossed. Today might be the day we have to say good bye to my little furry friend, but I'm trying to keep hope in my heart. I, I have a feeling everything is going to be OK. I just have this feeling that whether today goes good or bad, it's going to be ok.

[cardriocanine]

Puppy Power!

1/20/25 -

We picked up Onyx on Saturday. It was an hour-and-a-half car ride, and he did great on the way home; just a little whining for the first 10 minutes, and then he settled and laid down for the rest of the trip.

He's been pretty good at home. He's not overly responsive to outside stimuli, he really wants to play with the cat but she's not there quite yet, he loves his toys and has no clue how to use his massive paws.

Also, he's never seen stairs before, of which we have many. The entire first day and part of the second was me carrying him up and down to go potty.

He had quite a few accidents in the house the first day as we figure out his potty schedule. His poops were runny so they were hard for him to control.

I took him to the vet today. He's 23.8 pounds. The vet also found that he has something called Giardia; it's a parasite that they can get from contaminated water. She perscribed him two meds that I will administer for the next 5 days. She said she's never seen so many in a single specimine and was really surprised he wasn't vomiting frequently (which he has not, at all). She informed us that he's likely have been a few pounds heavier if not for the bugs, and we'll see weight gain quite a bit over the next couple of weeks.

Giardia rarely passes from dog to cat or dog to human, but is very transmittable between dogs. To be on the safe side, we aren't letting him and CookieKris (the cat) too close, and we're frequently washing our hands. I'm also washing his bowl between uses. I've been using the carpet cleaner on his accidents already, so that's covered.

He's doing well with Sit, and Lay Down (most of the time, unless Cookie is on the banister and he just hyperfocuses on her lol), and he loves to be glued to my side so Here hasn't really been all that tested. He is only 11 weeks old, after all, so I don't expect too much from his at this point.

He is very food-driven, and is in love with his snuffle mat.

And moreover, he's just such a cutiepie!!!

[hazard-and-friends]

6 months!

Old. 6 months old. I've only had her for almost-4-months.

Successes:

No accidents since December 21, and the ones in the 2 weeks prior to that were zoomies-induced

Nice walker, can go on the harness and pull gently or (with lots of reinforcement, but she is 6 months) on the collar and not pull at all

Alone in the car up to 75 minutes at a stretch or at home, crated, with Hazard, up to 2 hours

Sit/down/touch all fairly good

Drop it VERY good, 99% of the time she will spit the item out.

Very nice toy skills! Will drop a toy and wait to hear "take it" (tug) or "geddit" (fetch)

Her dog-dog social skills are insane. She is so good at adapting play to different confidence levels, or backing off entirely if the other dog is uninterested. She can navigate weird personal conflicts (like when a BC bitch decided to resource guard me) with ease and draw shy dogs into play. If this holds true, she's going to be an exceptional dog for socializing others.

Work in progress:

She can sleep through the night but only if (a) minimal food in the 2 hours before bed and (b) she poops right before bed. Otherwise we get up around 3 am to poop. This past week she's also had a streak where she decides there's Monsters outside and needs to huff about it. That's been steadily decreasing but we're still working on getting the poop schedule right.

We've graduated from the no-spill bowl. MOSTLY she doesn't go swimming in the water bowl, unless she's overtired in which case all bets are off.

Recall is uh, extant. Usually. Which is very good for 6 months lol

Evening relaxing remains something we need to actively remind her to do. I'm typing this post in the bedroom with her, because she won't wind down most nights in the living room--and she won't usually put herself in the bedroom to sleep. So someone goes into the bedroom with her, closes the door, and just hangs out for the last 1-2 hrs before bed, and that's working okay.

She's not as people-friendly as I (after all of Hazard's issues) would like. She's EAGER to meet people but not eager for them to meet her, head-shy, will flinch away from strangers. Like Hazard once you're in her circle you're in, and you can do whatever, and it's a lot easier to get in her circle, but hmm. More love on this I think.

Cat skills: She LOVELOVELOVES the cat. Penny even loves her back. But if Penny is in an accessible place (ie, 95% of the apartment) K'seil is incessant about bothering her, unless being actively distracted.

Leave it/trash is like, she Wants A Thing In Her Mouth on walks sometimes. So she'll dive at trash and shove it in her mouth--not EAT it, rarely even CHEW it, just Hold In Mouth. Which is why her 'drop it' is so stellar. 95% of the time she'll leave it if I can get the cue out, but the reason this is a WIP is she needs the cue. She doesn't have any sort of default "oh I should ignore this" yet. This goes double for certain trash bins in the apartment--thus far no thefts of anything dangerous, but she likes to chew apart masks and eat clumps of shed hair. I know how to fix this I just haven't put the work in.

Counter surfing is juuuust about a success but I don't wanna jinx it XD Very early on she was very persistent about trying to put feet on the kitchen counter, and through consistently ignoring/redirecting her from that and rewarding a down in the kitchen, we have gone...like a week or so? Without any attempts to get on the counter. So that's very nice, both because I hate counter surfing and because it validates my R+ approach.

Bite inhibition/mouthing I think is a WIP but might be a success, she's still Very Sharp sometimes but that's also when she's aroused, so we might just be having arousal problems (because she is 6 months). On walks about 75% of the time she can take a treat from my fingertips perfectly gently. She's still very mouthy, including with new people which is Ungreat, but it's steadily improving.

Body handling, while SO much better than Hazard, still needs some love. She'll let me brush the dremel against her nails but not hold it there, and rear nails have been a no-go since I quicked her fairly badly there. Brushing is 50/50.

Yikes:

Dogs in complex. She's not really reactive beyond staring at dogs outside the apartment complex, but inside it (how does she know. why does she know.) she is loudly and quickly vocal about There Is A Dog Over There. Think husky noises. We're making progress on this but it is still deeply embarassing.

Home alone without Hazard. I haven't done as much work on this as I should, because she can be in the car alone for an hour, so if he's got a class I can just bring her. But it would be nice. Sigh.

[mirrorvinephotography]

This week is about Yeon ~. Our new adopted home kitty...🐈..Honestly I've never expected a random kitten walked in our living room, wondering around the house while asking for food, AGAIN... This has happened before and it still happen again. Cats/Dogs are sustenance to us if we feed them with food/water or offer some kitty/doggie snacks. 

I adopted this small kitty name Yeon~ from a Korean Drama about a nine-tailed fox. You know, Lee Dong-wook? Yup. He is one of my favourite actor in K-dramas. He's getting more handsome in his early 40's and my boyfie looks like him. 😆😆😆 Love you bae~

3 weeks ago on Sunday night, a lost kitten appeared in front of the garbage bin, found him seating quietly beneath the grass. My mom was outside collecting dry clothes and saw a lonely kitten and asked him to come in. The little fella walked in, followed my mom until it enters the living room. Dad surprised as he saw an orange cat (exactly like how my previous Oyen when he was just a kitten) slowly strolling around the living room. The kitten looked lost, a small dirt found on his tiny pink nose, his tiny beans looks like tiny white socks but softer. He has a beaitful feature for an orange species. His big round cute black-orange eyes smirking at me. I was at the kitchen with my sister after we had dinner and we went to the kitten. He was curious about the surrounding, trying to figure out what's happening and where is this place. 

I walked to him and used my left palm to carry him as his small innocent dreamy eyes staring at me. He had tiny male balls behind (oh~ a male ah?) with a clean butt.... Are you Oyen's kid? Are you from somewhere else? Did your previous owner abandoned you? While observing his body, I noticed his long fur, dark orange and white, a 2 blended colors just like a typical orange cat. His face looks tired and confused. Immediately I looked for the late Oyen's food to feed him. He followed us to the kitchen and ate the Royal Canin. Once he finished his food, he began to start his small journey around the house. He started to climbed up to the washing machine, a few minutes later, he went to the toilet, pooping on the floor sink and left us to clean it up (Walaoeh, how clever this kitten? Did his previous owner taught him this?) and then he start to follow us whenever we go. My dad kept asking him if he was Oyen's son due to the familiar attitude as Oyen. Our Oyen has gone missing since last July 2023 and yet to returned until today. 

My mom assured that this kitten must be abandon by the previous owner due to his active stage or perhaps he was left alone accidentally from the house. I examined his body once again to confirm if he is free from any symptoms of cat's illness/disease. Fortunately, his fur not coming out or sticked to our shirts when we hold him and his fur is healthy, beautifully groomed. He must have been self-grooming all the time after a meal or something. His attitude is similar to Oyen, except that he was so polite to pooping at the toilet's floor sink. What a gentlemen this little kitty. Even Momochan still pooping in the cage unexpectedly. (Momochan is still no.1 in our family). I am getting worried when Momo is aging since she has been laying down in the cage and sleeps a lot.

His meow? - a soft tone, unlike a lion's roar. He crawls and sniffing to my hand, bite my leg and rubbed his small body against my ankle seeking for warm and love. What a tiny cute baby. 

What a wonderful little child. This orange kitten needs lots of love since he was previously left alone. Up until now, I have no clue how this tiny beautiful kitten was found outside of our house gate. On Monday evening after work, I go to SpeedMart to buy a few wet food and dry food for Yeon. The next plan is to buy Royal Canin dry food to maintain his diet and health...Emmm, how did he survived outdoors alone? How did he find food/drinks and shelter? All this kept running in my mind and I still yet to give him a name.

Kobe?

Haru?

Haku? (Like Jun's Kitchen cat, Haku...)

Oden?

Yeon? - my dream cat's name.

At first, I decided to call him Kobe (Koh-Bee) but my sister mocking me "Kobe Beef ~ Kobe Beef~".😂 Lama-lama nanti I fikir dia daging lembu pula...Boyfie said Kobe is a nice name just like the late basketball player Kobe Bryant. I answered, "Kobe Broyen" and he 😆😆😆. Lol ~ My mom was even funnier when it comes to name cats. She randomly dropped "Snack" as his name. Melissa likes the name "Snack" due to his orange cat personality. Mom has been asking how the kitten walked in randomly to us? My dad said" You asked for Oyen. And now, he sent another one to you". 😂😂😂😂 But, actually it might be true...😳

On Saturday morning (Before the night Yeon came to our house which is on Sunday night.),  I can't remember if is the day we went for morning market with mom to look for lamb/chicken for monthly stock or the time mom asked to accompany me to helped pump air for all tyres and pump petrol for her car.  But what I know is...While on the way back, Mom did mentioned she missed our late Oyen and I said yeah, me too (Sometimes, when I can't sleep or stressed from a restless mind, I sobbed whenever I saw his photos/videos from my phone before sleep. I still have doubts of Oyen's whereabouts and can't accept if he is really gone...By the time Oyen has left, I felt like a small hole is cracked open from my heart. It never felt content whenever Oyen is not with us...). I did not tell this part of the story to my mom because it was at my fault for late sending him to the vet when he is in heavy-swollen stage in his mouth. I am late for making the next move and I am regret for not sending him to the vet early. 😢😭😭😭I'm sorry boy. Please forgive me as you are the greatest creation from God. I even told my boyfie that Oyen is the most handsome cat I had ever seen in my eyes and I failed to take care of him as a cat owner. I have so many things to learn as a cat owner and I regret for unable to rectify my mistakes.

And then on Sunday night. Yeon came~

Just like that.

Dad insisted Yeon suddenly came to us as if he was fallen by the sky (Like the Mr. Bean live-action series) and still wondering how Yeon came to our house...

 "Mungkin langit atas hantar Si Kecik ni datang ke rumah kita untuk duduk"...

God: You! The orange one.

Yeon: Yes sir!

God: I command that you to go house number XXX tonight.

Yeon: Sir, yes sir!

God: Maksure they took you in with warm and love.

Yeon: Alright sir!

God: Go now!

Yeon: Thank you sir!

*Imagination story by my dad 👆....😂😂😂😂😆😆😆

Regarding the how I come up with the name Yeon? I played the name for a while and "Kobe" doesn't seem works on him as it reminds me of food. Beef Meat. Beef Meat. How can I live with this name at home right? Oden is food while Haku and Haru is not suitable much. Yeon was the name me and boyfie discussed about our future cats name and it was the name given by myself. Initially is Lee-yeon, but I decided to go with Yeon instead. Ala-ala kucing Korea~ (Oyenchan is a Japanese name).

Boyfie informed me to take good care of him and make him a house-cat instead of stray. I will follow my plan and make sure Yeon is well fed, healthy full with warm and love. 

Thank you so much God AL-Mighty. 💝

Kucing is rezeki.

Alhamdulillah💓💝x

So grateful to welcome our new orange kitten, Yeon ~... 😍

May all affairs be simplified smoothly~

[yerbamansa]

Wrote a little thing last night on my phone because I keep thinking about it. What if I shoved all my sad feelings about the bunny dying into Stede and made it a meetcute in the end, as one does? Everything is an AU, blah blah blah.

Under a cut for pet death, depression thoughts.

Stede hadn't expected Arthur to die.

The funny little guy with the soft face and floppy ears left poop on the floor and a hole in Stede's heart.

He wasn't even sure about getting a rabbit in the first place. Always figured he was more of a cat guy, maybe, except Mary was allergic so they never had one. Then the divorce, and then the kids pleading for a pet, and then the shelter event at the pet store where the most beautiful man he'd ever seen showed him how to handle a bunny, gentle and easy as anything. Told him about a Facebook group that was good for questions and congratulated Arthur on finding his forever home.

So he'd brought Arthur back to his two bedroom apartment and given him run of the place. Coaxed him to jump up on the couch for cuddles and treats. Got used to the little guy being underfoot, especially in the kitchen. Stede found himself eating more green vegetables just because he could share. Habits that became ingrained over time. 

The rabbit was for the kids, sure, but Stede was Arthur's human. He had never really been anyone's human, not really, so Arthur occupied a very special place in Stede's heart.

And then, one morning, Arthur didn't want to eat breakfast. Not even pellets or treats. Stede brought him to the vet, gave all the meds he was prescribed, paid for the tests he was told to get, and then…

Well. No one to appreciate his kale stems and strawberry tops anymore. No one to look out for under the desk chair. No one to appear at 7 o'clock on the dot, eyes shining, to remind him about dinner.

The kids were sad, of course. And his friends were kind. No one made him feel bad about mourning something as silly as a pet bunny. (He'd excised anyone who might've ages ago, around the same time as the divorce.)

Thing was, Stede had been sad and lonely for a while. Arthur was good company, a reason to get up in the morning, but his loss felt bigger than that. And yet, he felt it in all the little ways, the crevices of his day, the way he didn't have to check a water dish or close a door at night. All the small ways he'd made space in his life for the love of a tiny creature. Like it was the last good thing in his daily life to go.

The mourning held so much more than that one loss. But it was the part that anyone else understood.

It took him weeks to clean out all of Arthur's stuff, all the little oops stains and fur piles and scattered hay. Part of it was just feeling tired. Part of it was wanting to feel that wave of sadness and loss from seeing the mess left behind, just a little longer.

Eventually he decided it was time to try again. No bunny could be Arthur, he was certain, but he could make new friends. Probably.

He spent time on the website of the local rescue that he'd adopted Arthur from, sent a few emails about different bunnies, and made plans to visit an adoption event to meet a few.

There, sitting in a pen with a fuzzy gray thing with jet-black ears, was him. The beautiful man who helped him find Arthur.

"I'm here for the adoption event?" he said timidly. He wasn't even looking at the rabbits, all sitting in their little pens kitted out with colorful blankets.

The man set down the rabbit and stood up. "Great," he said, brushing some of the fur off his shirt (but not all, never all). "I'm Ed, who are you here to meet?"

Stede swallowed. You, he thought.

[northsaskhunter]

Things my dumbass daughters have done in the one year I've had them (not in order) :

- ate my watch charger

- tried eating my bear hide

- ate the hair out of the shower drain

- broke into the shower while I was using it

- refuse to let me close the window despite it getting down to almost zero at night because father we will scream if we can't sniff the outside sniffs

- pee'd in the sink. Three times (I took them out to my parents. They don't like leaving the house)

- pee'd on my bed, while I slept in said bed. I woke up because my leg was warm and one of them was scratching at the spot (happened the first time I took them to my parents)

- tried killing each other more than once. (All because I took them either to the Vet or my parents)

- stood on the top of my flat screen tv when it was mounted, seven feet off the ground. (How the fuck she got up there, I don't know)

- ran up my bedroom door and sat on the top of that (again, how the fuck?)

- scratch the carpet when their scratching post is deadass, four feet away

- tried to walk on the stove top after I had just turned the burner off

- ate two chicken breasts in one sitting (I airfried three. Two for me and one for them. had to share the second one)

- would probably inhale a whole hotdog if I let them

- dump their water dish out if its anywhere other than in the sink

- tracked toilet water down the hallway becuase my sister didn't close the toilet lid

- got pee'd on by my brother because he didn't fully close the bathroom door

- ran under my feet when I was wearing boots and got stepped on. She didn't learn anything

- sit in the bay window and stare at people going by

- the younger of the two tried to kill the vet after they got fixed so I had to go back and get her into the carrier. She proceeded to try to kill her sister so I had to borrow another carrier from the vet to get both of them home. (I am pricing out getting two slightly smaller carriers for future vet trips than the big one I have)

- hated each other for a good week and a bit after being fixed

- almost took my arm off because my sisters brought the little dog over to let them sniff. The cats did NOT want to be sniffed. I can still hear the screech that cat let out.

- how dare I have anything on the table or the counters

- how DARE I only put dry kibble in the food bowl. That food bowl is for food, not toys.

- they see anything that rattles, crinkles or skitters as a toy. Dry kibble is a toy that can be eaten after being batted from the kitchen down the hallway into the bedroom

-may currently be on a partial hunger strike because the grocery store didnt have the wet food I had been giving them. (The exact same brand except the one they liked was in a plastic container)

- refuse to eat any other flavour of wet food aside from "seafood"

- refuse to eat any type of kibble aside from iams or kitten kibble

- only sleep either between my legs or in the doggy-bed I have on my own bed. (They get flung often because I constantly move in my sleep)

- I'm like 80% sure one of them ate the empty tube my testosterone came in. It was on the counter and then it wasn't. I have swept and also checked in the vent on the floor and I still don't know where it went.

- do something bad and scatter the moment I stand up.

- almost took down my bedroom door when I had to lock them in there when I had a zoom interview

- rattle the closet door for hours on end when I'm trying to sleep

-pooped in the kitchen sink because I was taking too long cleaning the litter bin (deadass just put the dirty litter into the garbage when the beotch shat in the sink)

- knocked my fan off the bedside table while I was asleep. Fan ended up broken.

- Stare and scream at me through the glass door every day when I go to work even though they know I'll be back in six hours.

- stare and scream at me through the glass door every day when I get BACK from work

- take man-shits on the daily and stink up the entire house despite the litter box being in the farthest room in the house

- knocked my lava lamp off the mantle piece (thank fuck that didnt break)

- often knock the vent covers off the fireplace

- ate the corner of my Fallout New Vegas "New California Republic" flag

- only get sick on the carpets. Winnie's first time being sick was caught and I held her above the sink. She stayed away from the sink for the next few days because that was obviously the thing that made her sick

- knocked over a half empty pop can and stained the carpet brown

My girls, Winnie and Mary. (Winnie has all the toes)

I want to get a third one, a blonde one though, and name her Sarah.

having a cat is great. there's a small little animal wandering around. effervescent

[jeffersonthemadhatter]

75 Soft Day 16

Wake up: absolutely not. I couldn't sleep last night, and it was probably around 4 a.m. when I did manage to fall asleep. It was that "physically exhausted but mentally awake" thing :/ Anyway, woke up around 11:30 with a massive headache (idk if from pizza for dinner, lack of water the last coupla days, or lack of sleep.)

Exercise: Seated Calves from Darebee 3x (straight, inner, outer.) 50x leg raises, adductions, abductions.

Water: 1 QT cup. I found a new straw in the sauce bag, as well as a couple of others so I'll have them at the ready for the next time that the straw fiend gets a craving. They are a bit too short for the cup but they do go above the lid so it works. Maybe for birthmas I can get a Stanley or some other 40+ oz cup.

Unpack: 1 box. Ish. The thing is, is that a good chunk of these boxes are to stay taped up because they're storage. Some of it is to be held for another sibling until they can come back out to get their stuff. Some of it (such as father's old guitars) is that none of us are ready to throw it away or sell or give it away, it's in that emotional limbo. But very few of these boxes are labeled in any sort of way, so I have to open it, see what it is, label what's in there, and add it either to the pile of boxes that has storage items, or the side of my room with things to be unpacked. That was the best way that I could come up with in terms of sorting the boxes (separate sides of the room with the storage side next to the closet) because all of the boxes are in the closet, which is where the storage items are going to be stored (it's a big closet, and it's not many things being stored). So I have to empty out the closet, clean the closet (one of the cats has turned it into her personal poop closet so I have to clean the carpet before moving things back in. The enzyme cleaner arrived today so that's good. I'm assuming that if she's pooping in there's then she's also peeing in there, hence the enzyme cleaner. And there is a carpet cleaner machine available to me so that's also one of the steps), move the storage items back into the closet, move furniture, and then unpack the unpack boxes. And I have to do most of this before the 2nd-ish? Whether it's a second modem or line hasn't been discussed yet, but that's around the latest that it would need to happen. This is one of the times where I wish that I had a time machine so that I could go back in time and properly label these boxes to make this go slightly faster. So a box has been labeled and put aside. I'm going to have the goal be to have to closet emptied by Friday so that I can spend Saturday & Sunday cleaning it. Then I can spend Mon & Tues moving things & cutting out drawer liners & cleaning (mostly dusting) things, and Wed-Fri unpacking. That'll give me a week to chill and relax.

Audiobook: yes

I did do my overall goal of going from my room to the kitchen to fill up the QT cup with ice water and go back to my room without sitting. I did need to hold onto the wall for a bit of support on the way back. The back of my legs near my butt are sore rather than the front of my legs or my knees, so def a bit of improvement. (Last Friday is was the front, sides, and back of my thighs as well as my hips that were sore. But also, today was a much shorter distance.) But hey, I did it. I am going to alter the goal slightly to make it without sitting and without holding onto the wall.

A couple of offers are already in for the house.

[runic-raptor]

Adding more from my time keeping fish:

- REPEAT AFTER ME: Larger tanks are easier to maintain than smaller tanks. Fish poop in the water. The water gets dirty. The filter cleans the water, BUT, if there is more poop than water, the filter cannot keep up. The more water you have, the more spread out the poop is, and the more fresh water the fish still have after pooping.

- I'm not kidding. Don't go with the minimum tank size. Bigger tanks are easier to maintain and require fewer water changes.

- On that note, you can get used tanks for infinitely cheaper than in-store. Just be SURE to leak test them OUTSIDE first.

- Get something like a Python aquarium hose/vaccum. Get bigger than you think you need. Makes changing water easier and you will need one to drain the tank after you leak test it. Do not try to carry a full tank of water into your house. Do NOT tip over the aquarium to drain it. Defeats the point of the leak test, you're gonna break it.

- Different fish have different water flow needs. Generally I like to get a bigger filter than my tank needs and just set it to low, but some fish like bettas do not like a lot of flow. Use something to slow down the current if need be.

- A note on betta sororities. They can be difficult to maintain. Some females will still kill the heck out of each other, so be prepared to separate them if need be. (I know most bettas are sold in tiny cups, but if they're in a larger aquarium with other fish, they TEND to be better candidates for cohabitation)

- Speaking of cohabitation, you CAN sometimes keep a betta (male or female) with other fish. Sometimes. They will still often eat their neighbors - ESPECIALLY if they look too much like a betta. I don't recommend male guppies for example. Bettas will very often eat shrimp too, so be warned.

- Cycle your tank BEFORE you buy the fish. It's best practice and usually has the best results. I'd say a good 60% of fish deaths within the first week are because the tank wasn't cycled.

-- TLDR about cycling. A filter right out of the box basically only filters out physical gunk from your tank. Your tank NEEDS benefitial bacteria - this is what breaks down fish poop and basically makes it safe water again. Otherwise your fish will suffocate on their own poop. You kind of need to actually read and understand the water cycle here because it's important, but that's WHY it's important.

- The BEST thing I can recommend is steal a filter from someone's existing tank. That filter will already have established bacteria in is, and make the new tank process much MUCH smoother. Quick Start bacteria is great, but it still takes a while to establish itself.

- Even if you don't have weeks to cycle the tank before adding fish, please at least run the tank for a few hours (if not a full day) before adding fish. This gives time for the sand/gravel to fully settle, the heater to heat up the water, and whatever bacteria you added to at least have a chance to grab onto surfaces in the tank. Just make sure you don't leave the fish sitting in bags that whole time... There's not enough oxygen in those bags and they will be swimming in their poop for hours. 1) Buy and set up tank. 2) Wait a few hours or a day. 3) THEN you buy fish.

- Check into what kind of substrate (sand, gravel, dirt, etc.) is best for the kind of fish you're getting. Some fish for example are known to swallow gravel if it's small enough to fit in their mouth (be wary of "large" gravel bags that also have broken smaller pieces of gravel). And some fish have really delicate bellies and shouldn't have gravel of any kind. So do your research first.

(This is all off the top of my head at 1am, so sorry if anything is unclear or inaccurate. It's been a while since I've had fish as well, so I could be completely forgetting something important.)

Like for example,

- If you have cats, make sure your tank has a lid. True Story:

"Wow, I'm surprised your cat has never tried to eat your betta since they're out in the open like that."

"Oh yeah, they're a good kitty. We've had both of them for years and no problems."

*The next day, Blue the Betta mysteriously disappeared. Only known suspect? Feline who has "never bothered the fishies"

When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.

The words branded themselves across my soul.

As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.

Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.

How they would scream, if they could.

[nathank77]

11/5/25

7:12 p.m

So also my sleep tracker helped in another way. I was burping and my molar hurt. It was happening for days... I was using Sensodyne Toothpaste every day twice a day bc it tastes so fresh and like a breeze of mint. I can't even tell you.

I decided just in case to switch tooth paste to my also sls free tooth paste that doesn't have Potassium nitrate in it bc Potassium nitrate can cause pits... I already have the start of a cavity where the pain was happening when I was burping... 3 days later I can burp all day if I wanted to and my tooth doesn't hurt!

I was using my sulfate free Toothpaste and Sensodyne on and off for a while and then i kinda switched straight to only Sensodyne bc I love it...

I guess if I want to use Sensodyne I have to use the sulfate free tooth paste as well. I wouldn't have known I used Sensodyne for over two weeks straight twice a day if it weren't for my sleep tracker and I realized the pain stopped and I check and I was like wow it's been a week of using the Potassium nitrate free tooth paste.

Anyways, my mom has been a bitch all day. My ear is starting to pop again but now it's my left ear... and randomly last night rather than pressure ear popping which is what I have been experiencing.... I heard popping... like early psychosis... but idk what it was maybe a hallucination.. I realize eustachian tubes do not show up on mris... and beyond that.... my air pressure test was normal... so idk if something is wrong with them... I might have to get a cat scan. I stopped using Flonase bc my brain told me to, kinda like how it told me to increase my cbd to 100mg... not a hallucination... just like a you better do this thought. Idk how to describe it.

I get thoughts like that a lot. Like that's kinda how the chugging water Dihherea thing was noticed. Idk. Anyways, idk if my eustachian tubes are okay and idk how to get them tested.

My left eye hurts. I'm worried that I'm going fully hyper but my heart rate is nice and slow, I'm on metopolol still daily. And my hunger is minimal... just normal mostly....... but I'm pooping a lot.

This is about the time all my anxiety hits me in the face.

[somewhat-sanguine]

my sinner. come closer, i am here. and be my dying light. you're burning down(three rivers)

When I left America, I was near death. I had spent the last few weeks in a cycle of intoxication and withdrawal, overdosing and resuscitation. On the plane ride to Montreal, I was in withdrawals. I had downed about a quarter of a handle of vodka that morning just to keep the sickness at bay to get past security, in the hopes that I would be comfortable enough on the plane ride to be able to just sleep and go into my sickness quietly. That wasn't exactly the case...you would have thought that an entire preschool at decided to fly into Montreal at the same time I did. None stop screaming, non-stop pooping (not only from the children...there was a cat on the plane ride too...), parents going up and down the plane trying to soothe their poor babies who lost it every time the plane went through turbulence or their ears popped. It is the last place any addict in withdrawal would want to be besides perhaps jail.

Still, I was excited. I was excited to start my new life there. To see the weather and meet the people and explore the terrain. To spend time with my future husband. Most of all... to finally get clean. I knew Lance wasn't going to tolerate my drinking, he certainly wasn't going to buy it for me. I was in a strange new land where French was the main language, so scouting out drugs in alley ways and down sketchy streets wasn't an option like it would have been in British Columbia or Ontario. I was away from the place I was born; the place where all my trauma had originated and all my vices took hold of me. I had left myself no other option but to get sober. It was scary, it was intense, but I knew it was either this or death.

In Florida I was at the point where I would go days without eating, drink and use for three to four days at a time and then spend two days puking up bile because my body was so sick. It would reject even water, because it became so used to me shoving poison into it and was fearful that all I would put in it would be poisonous. I would spend my days in bed, shivering, feeling like this was it. This was my last hurrah. My body was littered with bruises and sores. My body was unable to heal itself because my liver was so damaged. Even the wound on my breast, which should have been closed a month ago, struggled to heal. If anyone reading this struggles to understand the power of addiction, let that last paragraph really sink in. Your addiction is your everything. It is your entire persona, it is your lifestyle, it is the people you hang out with and the friends you choose, it is your environment, it is the essence of your entire being...and like an abusive relationship, you can't get out of it. Even if you want to. It digs it's claws into you and holds on tight, but eventually it starts ripping you to shreds and causes you to lose everything you hold dear and force everyone you love to watch.