#i really hope i did suns anatomy right!!! i love the biology connected to them aaa

[nixisglitched]

Silly little messy fanart for @moon-buggg s Alien Abduction Au!! I absolutely adore these silly creatures and i hope Sun would enjoy a few, better quality, crystals from a friend^^

My silly little crystal creature doesn't have a proper design right now, so this was also my chance to get a concept color design together^^

[bookfreaky]

LOVE DOING - The Analysis

Intro:

I try to never analyse my work while still working on it, because I believe that the painting must be born from an image in your head, or a feeling, and not from a concrete idea. That is the foundation of abstractionism. Then when you’re finished and you are kind of star-gazing your own work, you try to find what made you create all that, what made you use that colour or this shape. I did that and I saw that all the dots were connected in the same theme: Love.  

Love as a broad concept and my experience with that. I think love is a very liquid sentiment, like water, it takes the shape of its every container you put it, but pretty much it’s still love. That same impulse is there. It can be like water also in the way it reflects the sun light, how it changes colours and distorts shapes. Love can be illusory; it can be lysergic but it can also be the answer to many simple questions in life. In its gas form it can be contagious and performative as it inhabits imagination, but it can also become solid when under pressure, just like water becomes ice under high pressures. In difficult situations, the love you feel for that person may be the only thing that keeps you going. I experienced that, and I think many people did too with so many people getting ill and dying during the Covid pandemic.

Like water it nurtures, like water it drowns. Love can be represented as a substance, like it just did, but also it persists as an action, an abstract action at so, an actual verb. In abstractionism, it’s to be said that colour is verb while shape is noun (I won’t remember to said that), for that reason I focused in this collection mainly in two colours in their variations, red and blue. Without the political branding aesthetic, red is seen in psychoanalysis as a active colour, the colour of human blood. Blue could be described as a “calmer” colour, but not so lacking in action. As Rebecca Solnit said, I quote:

“Water is colourless, shallow water appears to be the colour of whatever lies underneath it, but deep water is full of this scattered light, the purer the water the deeper the blue. The sky is blue for the same reason, but the blue at the horizon, the blue of land that seems to be dissolving into the sky, is a deeper, dreamier, melancholy blue, the blue at the farthest reaches of the places where you see for miles, the blue of distance.”

So I dedicate this four paintings to the people I love and whomever loves things, but also to all the feelings that come about with love. Some of these paintings are capable of calming me and I could keep looking at them for hours, forgetting about myself. Others make me feel angsty, uncomfortable and looking at them oblige me to think about my own existence and fear my future.

I really hope you look at the paintings before you read the whole thing, and suffer through the same. Thank you.  

Love Escaping Into the Blue:

This one was the first painting I made, before I imagined it to be a collection, and it was born from the experience of decompressing love from a place of deep passion; where you are taken by this sudden and enormous sadness but also relief. I felt free, really. I read this biology paper from the Monterey Bay Aquarium, called “Light in the Deep Sea”, and it explains that there’s some uniformity of colour in the ocean animals according to how deep in the water they inhabit. Animals living in the great depths of the sea, between 6,000 and 11,000 meters deep, have commonly a very vivid red colour, but closer to the surface of the water, between 200 and 1,000 meters deep, most animals are silver and grey. That’s because in this depth the brightness of sunlight is fragmented into a blue colour, and grey reflects the blue light creating the illusion that the animal is, in fact, blue. A Blue Whale is actually grey, not blue.

[Seadevil Fish (Cryptosaras couesii), left. Blue Whale (Balaenoptera musculus), right.]

The painting shows a leak of red coming into blue and bluer space, which is this feeling of infatuation and selfish desire, possession, fear and jealousy that is very red in colour and has connotations of violence and anger, moving into a place that is not so deep in the water but clearer and wider as the open sea, illuminated by this navy-blue light. It’s like you can finally breathe and see that your love is still there, but it has changed. In hope by being closer to the atmosphere it is also somehow closer to the divine. I imagine some people might feel lost when love escapes into the blue, and I get this sensation too, but it’s about loving freely, learning how not to feel love so deeply into ourselves, but widely like the ocean.

Love Growing in the Pit of the Stomach: 

When I looked at this painting in particular after it was done, I had this sensation of angst that was difficult for me to name. It’s about desire, it’s about this feeling growing inside of you that you know it will be something more than what you want, but what you need. I’ve become obsessed with the image of holes, looking like they are piercing the canvas; I think they show this emptiness I feel, like a window showing how hollow I am inside, but also, they give me this satisfying feeling by looking at them, like opening a wound and poking a bubble. I think this emptiness comes from the idea most trans women cannot take away from the back of their heads, which is if you do or do not have a “female genitalia”. Gender in our culture is very centred around genitals and biological sex, for centuries being a woman has been defined by the person who’s able to carry a man’s child. There is this little fantasy of mine where women have this little hole in them that can swallow the world. The idea of it, for me, has grown into a very real desire very much like the desire for sex. Actually, very close to sex too. But the roots growing out of the hole, in green and blue, represent pain and fear, because I’m not sure if I’m okay with the idea of having to undergo a surgical procedure to fulfil this fantasy, neither I am sure if it is a fantasy or a need.

Most of my work resembles yonic shapes (resembling the form of a vulva), either in this work or in former ones, and it’s never intentional, it sort of just slips from my subconscious. I believe that the vulva, as well as the womb, are under-shadowed symbols of power. Phallic shapes are very common in art and what-not, they are usually associated with offense and aggression. Like when school boys draw a dick on the toilet stalls as if marking their territory. The vulva, however, is never quite portrayed like that.

I read about this Japanese visual artist, Megumi Igarashi, who made several pieces of art shaped after her own vagina, including a yellow vagina-boat (which I absolutely loved) and she got arrested and fined for “obscenity”. I think that for her subversive art-form she should be considered a national hero. Many man-made constructions are phallic images, look at the Washington Obelisk, or the Eiffel Tower, but in nature we most commonly find yonic shapes, like the Grand Canyon.

There is a profound violence in desiring this, feeling as if a part of your own anatomy is lacking, but you can’t grow it naturally, you can’t do it in a god-intended way. The bright red colour represents violence and sex, and in this case both. It’s way more complicated than the concept of having kids and being a mom, it’s a lot more than to be seen as sexual beings, and sexuality, and to feel loved; it’s about symbols of power and somehow getting that denied. It’s about learning how to love this new body, a body that is foreign, infertile, obscene and unconventional. That love is hard to achieve and it is violent because women, and especially trans women, have been taught to hate their bodies.  

Love Falls In The Bathroom:

This one took the longest to finish and left me with the most unsure brush-strokes, much perhaps because it isn’t based off on an idea but on a memory, on dream. In three more years I’ll be the same age my mother had and she had me, 29 years old. Somehow it feels like a looming date. Having kids and getting pregnant, specifically, have been sporadic subjects of therapy sessions – the antithesis is always the same: you are not lesser of a woman for not being able to get pregnant, you can still be a mom through other means, you are not even sure if you want kids or marriage, you can always adopt – Those answers feel reasonable, but none of them ever could appease the deep feeling of something missing in me, like something is perpetually wrong with me. Then I understood that in this painting, I was trying to evoke these feelings. Love and grief.

[My mother, pregnant with me, in the 90s.] 

My friends tell me I seem to be older than I actually am, and sometimes I wonder if that’s not because I had never been a happy child. I feel like I had my childhood robbed from me. I mean, I had an okay, comfortable childhood, and a problematic teenage-hood, but I never had a girlhood. I am still grieving it. I had been assigned male at birth, I’m still grieving that too.

In July of this year, I experienced a very vivid dream, in which although short all the images and the sensations were, felt very real. I was taking a shower in my bathroom, I close off the water, wrap myself around a towel, my usual pink one, and when I’m stepping out of the shower stall I fell. I hit my right elbow against the toilet lid as I fell with my legs open in opposite directions, a sharp pain struck me under my thighs, close to my groin, and a light string of blood followed right after that. It wasn’t menstruation blood, thin and clear red, but thick and dark. It was all very quick but I knew, right then, right there, exactly everything that was happening. I was pregnant, 13 weeks, alone in the bathroom floor, surrounded by blood. I wonder how many days of my recent life, how many hours a day, I am really just sitting down alone on my bathroom’s floor surrounded by blood. I woke up and it still felt very real. I had spent the next two days very quiet, not wanting to speak to anyone. I wanted to tell someone as soon as I was back from the dream, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted to call someone, a friend, anyone, and say “I lost it. I lost my baby”. I realised then, in that post-dreamy state, that I have been silently grieving for a lot of things, things I haven’t yet allowed myself to grieve for. Things I still did not have a chance.

Love Lost In Imagination:

This one is the only one what doesn’t forecast red and blue colours, but instead in red and blue paint mixed together in a royal purple colour. It was the last one I made, and it’s the one that differs the most in shape. I like to imagine it was love in it’s gas form, vaping inside your brain like Nitrous-oxide, with white-coloured cloud shapes and yellow peacock eye-feathers. It’s about how sometimes love can only exist in imagination, how we often elaborate better scenarios in our heads, and we think “what if things were different?”. I believe to be okay to fantasize, anyway the utopia is what moves us towards a reality, but sometimes we can get lost in imagination, and in questioning the same questions over and over. “What if I hadn’t done this and done that?”; “What if I hadn’t said no?”; “What if I had stayed longer to watch that movie?”; “What if had come out as trans earlier?”; “What if I had become a professional writer?”; “What if I had born a woman?”. Is love real if it perpetrates only in thought?

I would be more than happy to quote some of Saint Augustine here, and his theological virtues, love being one of them, but I wouldn’t like to make this essay even longer and complicated.

I think to myself sometimes, when was it that I started to prefer having peace then pleasure. My head has always been very noisy, very noisy, and I wanted it to stop. Now it feels like I’m constantly too quiet about everything. That somehow, like the Little Mermaid by Hans Christensen Andersen, when transitioning into a woman I exchanged my legs (my body) for my voice, and now I can’t voice or even pinpoint what I want. I’m just so tired. So, so tired. My mental health hasn’t been great for more than one year, and the pandemic didn’t help. I’m constantly anxious around people, even the closest ones to me (especially the closest ones to me), I’ve been eating like a bird and sleeping like a cat. Still, sometimes I imagine what future I would like, and I imagine myself living somewhere with open space, trees, breeding horses just like my grandfather did, space for dogs, musical instruments and the kids. Space for being big.

The painting makes me think that sometimes I can only love myself in this imaginary place. Otherwise, it just looks slightly like a chicken’s head. You decide.    

- Original work, G.L. Alódio.

[evedaye]

Traditions

This is for @abbygriffindaily ‘s fall fest Day 3: Pumpkins

Pairing: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane

Set in season 2. Sometime in October before Mt. Weather.

He’d found them at a tiny stall in a traveling marketplace and felt absolutely awestruck. Of all the things that had used to grow on earth, they were the most fascinating. Deep orange in color (something they almost never saw on the Ark), and giant, at least compared to most of the other produce, they seemed almost magical.

He remembered being intrigued by the stories of their use in History, everything from desserts to a fancy container for candles on All Hallows Eve. He’d loved to comb through the archives, gleaning information about long lost traditions from Earth.

So when he’d seen them resting with several types of squash, he knew he needed them. They weren’t as big or round as the ones he’d seen in their digital books on the ark, but they were just as beautiful, their rich orange skin a color Marcus still wasn’t used to seeing in person. He was amazed, and determined all at once. The people of the Ark deserved at least one nice thing on this Earth, and he now knew how to give it to them.

Luckily, he’d brought a cart from the camp, as it was his job on this particular supply run to barter for a variety of food. They’d begun to grow what they could in the new climate, and of course had some seedlings from farm station on each of the stations that fell to the ground, but they were limited by timing and knowledge. So far, he’d managed some apples, beets, brussel sprouts, cabbage, squash and berries that looked like grapes. And now, the pumpkins. He made the deal, grabbing one other special treat. He traded some of his own supplies, and headed back toward camp Jaha,

As he made his way along the road to camp, he thought about some of the traditions he’d found the most interesting. All Hallows’ Eve or Halloween as the people of Earth had commonly referred to it before the bombs, was celebrated on the last day of October, only about two weeks away. He thought maybe he could convince Raven to plan some sort of celebration. Throw in a little moonshine, the pumpkins carved into Jack-o-lanterns for decoration and it might even feel like a real holiday.

Raven immediately agreed, hurrying off while saying something about accessing the Ark’s old database of music, and the plan was in motion. Now all he had to do was figure out how to carve these things.

Cutting open the top and scooping out the insides (saving the seeds for planting and as much flesh as he could for eating of course) was the easy part, he soon discovered as he attempted to carve the first Jack-o-lantern face. He managed a couple of rough triangle shapes for eyes, and a fairly crooked mouth with his large knife, realizing he could really benefit from a some smaller carving implements. But aside from a small hunting knife, the only thing he could think of for more intricate details in the camp was a scalpel, and he wasn’t quite sure how to get this idea past Abby.

He tried to look nonchalant as he wandered into the medical tent looking for supplies, but Abby noticed him almost immediately.

“Marcus, do you need something? Is someone hurt?” She questioned quickly.

“No, no, nothing like that. I, uh...just needed to ask you if I could borrow something.” He reassured, trying to seem like he wasn’t up to anything, but Abby was at once suspicious.

“What exactly do you need from Medical?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

Well, the jig was up. He might as well come clean with her now.

“I found some pumpkins on my supply run, and I, ah...thought maybe since Halloween, you know, that Earth holiday in October was coming up, we should maybe have a celebration.” He stumbled through the words, feeling foolish, but Abby smiled.

“Are you planning on making Jack-O-Lanterns, Marcus?” She replied with a slight sparkle in her eyes, and Marcus remembered the conversation they’d had as teenagers on the Ark.

___________

Abby had always been just as proficient in History as Marcus, although slightly less fascinated by it, favoring anatomy and biology studies. Since they were evenly matched in the subject, they often studied together. They’d once had a test where they’d had to memorize three beliefs or traditions from cultures about each Holiday, and he’d traded some old radio parts and a couple of extra rations for two pieces of chocolate and invited her to his family’s quarters to study.

When they came to the Halloween section of the test, they’d agreed that the Samhain beliefs about the veil thinning between the earthly realm and the spirit world, prompting the idea that by dressing as a spirit, humans would be passed over by any creatures released from the underworld, and the long standing tradition of carving pumpkins into faces to represent soul lights, were the most fantastical and interesting, so that left only one. He knew that the tradition of trading sweets to prevent misdeeds had mostly been adopted during the commercialization of the holiday, but he found it the most fun, and he hoped Abby would too.

“Before we decide on the last one, I have something I think you’ll like,” Marcus nervously mumbled as he and Abby sat cross-legged on his bed. “I uh, want you to close your eyes though, and open your mouth.”

She looked at him like he’d grown a third eye, her eyebrows raised. “What? Why Marcus? What are you planning on doing? This isn’t about that stupid tradition of tricks is it?”

“No, I promise, no tricks. Just, please, it’s really not anything bad.” He replied, more nervous than when she’d first walked through the door, smelling of Jasmine, smiling shyly and making his heart race.

“I don’t know.” She drawled, looking like she might be considering it.

“I would never hurt you, Abby. Never.” He replied, taking her hand in his and looking into her eyes.

“Ok, but if it’s something gross, I’m leaving.” She pronounced, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Deal.” He nodded, a silent promise that she could trust him.

She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth, and he placed the chocolate on her tongue.

“This is my favorite tradition, I thought maybe it could be ours.” He spoke gently, feeling as though he was jumping off a cliff.

“Chocolate!” She squealed, “where did you find this?” She opened her eyes and threw her arms around him.

“Oh you know, around. Mess hall,” he joked, smiling. Her giddy excitement was contagious.

“This is perfect.” She said quietly, still smiling. “Thank you, Marcus.”

“You’re welcome Abby.” He replied, wishing they could stay in this moment forever.

__________

“Actually, yes, Jack-O-Lanterns are exactly what I’m planning.” he replied, smiling. “I thought it might be fun. And that’s certainly something we could use around here.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Marcus.” Abby replied, on one condition. “I get to carve some too.”

“Absolutely.” He agreed readily, grinning.

Some time later, they were elbows deep in pumpkin guts, laughing like they hadn’t in years, if ever. They had both been successful with their small hunting knives, and the additional help of the scalpel. They all had very different faces, some quite intricate, and Marcus and Abby were both pleased with the results.

Raven soon came looking for Marcus, telling him that she’d planned everything for the next night, and almost immediately rushed off to gather more supplies.

“I’d better go check on Medical,” Abby said, brushing some loose hair out of her face, leaving a few strings of pumpkin on her temple.

“Yeah, we’ve been at this for a while,” Marcus replied, unconsciously reaching to pick the pumpkin from her face. She sucked in a quick breath at his touch, and he pulled his hand away.

“Sorry, you just had some pumpkin on your face,” he supplied, attempting to smooth over the tension that had surfaced.

“Oh, thanks,” she answered quietly. “And thanks for this Marcus. I haven’t laughed like this in years.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Marcus said sadly, remembering the cold, unfeeling front he’d had to construct to keep their people alive on the Ark.

“Goodnight Marcus.” Her voice sounded almost conflicted, as if she really wanted to stay.

“Goodnight Abby.” He smiled, watching her as she walked away.

The next day the camp was buzzing, excitement for the celebration that evening lifting the whole camp’s spirits. Almost everyone had pitched in, some making food from the supplies Marcus brought back, some creating makeshift tables and chairs, several collecting wood for a larger fire, and a couple helping Raven run the sound system through the speakers in the Rover.

Marcus and Abby had collected enough torches to light the Jack-O-lanterns and had loaded them into a cart currently hidden from view. Now they just had to wait for nightfall.

As the sun began to sink below the trees, people began moving things into place, lighting the fire and setting out dishes of hot food. They had plenty of moonshine made up, and the engineering team was just connecting the last of the wires. Suddenly, upbeat music streamed across the camp, and a resounding cheer followed.

They danced, drank and ate well into the evening before Marcus and Abby pulled the cart out with the Jack-O-Lanterns already shining light in every direction. One person looked up from the merriment as they walked by, then shouted, “hey guys, look, it’s like Halloween!” Everyone crowded around them, marveling at the pumpkins, exchanging ideas they’d heard about the Holiday, smiling and laughing. It had worked. Marcus turned to look at Abby, and the smile on her face warmed his entire body.

Several people carefully lifted the Jack-O-Lanterns, depositing them in strategic locations so everyone could see. Groups of people moved from one to the others, smirking about the funny ones and inspecting details on the more intricate designs.

Marcus was feeling ridiculously happy. Something had actually turned out right for once, and even if tomorrow brought more heartache and pain, at least they’d remembered what it felt like to have fun. He wanted to ride the wave of contentment while it lasted, so he plucked up the courage, with a little help from the moonshine, and walked over to where Abby was talking with a few of the kids, intent on asking her to dance.

She smiled as she saw him approach, excusing herself from her previous conversation.

“Marcus, this was a wonderful idea,” she hummed, grasping his arm. “I can’t believe how relaxed everyone looks.”

“I know. It’s really something. I didn’t think about how much we all needed it. Just a little time to let go of everything else and enjoy this amazing place.” He sighed, soaking in the moment.

“Abby, will you dance with me?” He asked, his voice unsure. He held out a hand and she took it readily.

“Yes Marcus, I’d love to.” She smiled sweetly, allowing him to guide her gently toward an unoccupied corner.

He put his hands on her waist, but she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him, eliciting a gasp. He was certain she could feel his heart rate increase when she rested her ear against his chest. This was near perfect bliss. He never wanted to leave. They danced to the calm, romantic song, and when another one came on after, he couldn’t help but wonder if Raven might be trying to subtly tell them something. He chuckled lightly at the thought.

“I almost forgot, I have something for you,” he whispered in her ear, feeling her shudder slightly against him. He pulled back, gently taking her hand, placing the paper wrapped square of chocolate in her palm.

“Is this what I think it is Marcus?” She gasped, eyes lighting up. “Our tradition?”

“You remember that day?” He questioned, excited.

“Of course I do!” She exclaimed. “That was one of my best memories of the two of us, before...” she trailed off.

“Before I became who I was and pushed you away,” he supplied, his tone lace with bitterness.

“We were different people up there, Marcus. That’s not who you are to me now. You’re...someone new. Well, almost new.” She murmured, taking the chocolate out of the wrapper and breaking it in half.

“I have another piece,” he started, but she cut him off by placing one of the pieces between his lips, smiling.

“I know you do. This way you can surprise me another time.” She replied, wrapping her arms around him for another dance. She wanted to live in this moment as long as time would allow.

[drferox]

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #16

Another round of questions from your Vetlings to round out the week. A few follow up questions from this weeks topics are included, I’ve tried to tag askers, but if you asked on Anon then the onus is on you to see if your answer is in here.

Anonymous said: that thing you said about cats aggression being worse is so true. I've worked with a lot of animals and never had a problem like I have with cats. I love them dearly but even my own cats have gotten me when holding them for the vet. The worst part is not only to they act unpredictable but they have that nasty habit of getting their claws stuck in you! One of my boys got his claw stuck in my hand while I was removing a paralysis tick from him. Not a pleasant experience

Cats are more difficult to handle when aggressive because a larger portion of the animal is weaponised. A dog only has one weapon of note, and it's easier to predict where it's going.

Anonymous said:re the cat spay pain medication, that's interesting! when our cats were speutered (UK) I'm fairly sure the vet sent home some sort of liquid oral anti-inflammatory/painkiller which we administered with a syringe, the same one which they've also given us a couple times when my cat's gotten into fights. can't remember the name though!

Yeah, I would bet it's some brand of meloxicam. It works well, but it's relatively expensive compared to the cost of the spay. I've also had people refuse to give it because they think the animal 'looks fine'. It's one of the pain relief drugs which may last up to three days when given as a loading dose, so we use it commonly, because that way owners can't decline to give their cat it's prescribed medication because they think it doesn't need it.

@8679thehuman said: so i know if my cat drinks my water that i don't drink it because parasites. so what about the opposite? sometimes if I have water i don't want to finish i'll dump it in the cat's water bowl. is there anything i could transmit to them, assuming i'm not sick? thanks so much! tax: came for the fantasy biology, stayed for the not-james-herriot tag!

I hope you have no parasites to share with your cat, but the risks are probably overblown. You're not going to get parasites from sharing water, but bacterial contamination may be another matter. Most parasites from cats are transmitted either via faeces or vomit.

@jarraxitty said: Hey! So this question just randomly came to me a moment ago while I was petting my cat. I've heard a lot of parents, or whatever, say to younger kids that cats will remember what you do to them, to keep their kids from pulling on their tails and such. I was curious how true this actually is. I believe you've said that dogs won't connect the dots unless consequence happens after the act, or something along those lines, but are cats... well, smarter? Thank you, and have a wonderful night!

Animals remember things that happen to them. It's how they learn. What they don't necessarily correlate is two events that happen separate in time, such as urinating in the house and being punished four hours later, or eating a sock and subsequently having surgery.

Anonymous said: Happy story! There's a cat my neighbor lets out at night, and the kitty and I are buddies! If I'm outside he sits in my lap, he purrs loudly when he sees me, and in turn I give him catnip from my garden. I call him Pretty, because he's a pretty kitty and I don't know his name. He knows my porch is a safe porch too!

Pretty is lucky to have somewhere safe to go to, and to have someone looking out for him. I hope he is definitely owned and not just wandering from one house to another.

@brass-tacked said:Hi! I just found your page so I apologize if this has already been asked (I tried searching but didn't find anything). A week ago I took my 14 month old cat, Gryf, in for his yearly check and vaccinations, while there the veterinarian said that Gryf has fairly severe gingivitis but didn't recommend a cleaning yet. He did suggest brushing his teeth (I've been trying since adopting, but Gryf says NO!) I've since heard that raw chicken necks are good for teeth cleaning, any thoughts? Thank you!

They can be useful if the cat actually chews them, though raw chicken should always be handled with respect. Anything with VOHC certification will also be helpful.

@skeletonmug said: hello again! New question - My cat goes outside (enclosed garden, supervised, UK). He's got white fur on his ears and nose and pink skin that shoes through in places. We've had some hot sunny days recently (by UK standards), is it worth it or sensible to put sunscreen on his pink bits or is that overkill? If it is worth it are there cat friendly sun screens or particular chemicals I should avoid when looking?

Avoid zinc, try to use something designed for pets as cats will lick sunscreen off themselves eventually. I don't know the rates of squamous cell carcinomas in the Northern hemisphere, but we have very high UV exposure in Australia so it's a significant issue for us, even on some cloudy days.

@orgy-of-nerdiness said: Hi! I was wondering if you had any resources for explaining cat breeds/the fact that, unlike dogs, most cats aren't part of any breed lineage. I have a DLH and he's very large and fluffy, which leads to the inevitable questions (or assumptions) about being "part Maine Coon." While I don't actually know his background (he's a rescue), I know it's extremely unlikely, but it's been so long since I did the research that I can't remember or figure out what sites to use as sources.

No I don't have a resource to refer people to. I AM the resource most of the time, to say this is not a purebred X though it has some Y features, the stray kitten you rescued in your backyard is unlikely to be a Bengal in any way, it's just a tabby, but you can call it whatever you like if it makes you love it more.

@thevalyrian said: Hello and good evening! Or morning, if it's morning in Australia. I recently asked my vets a question that they were very wishy washy on, and am hoping you might have some more clarity. The situation is that I have two young oriental cats, a short-hair and a long-hair. My apartment unfortunately has very poor air conditioning. What is the highest temperature you think is safe for a long-haired cat? I've done things like turning on fans, adding extra water, and giving them ice, but still worry...

'Safe' will vary by breed, age, weight and general health. Generally about 30 Celsius would be as high as I'd go without some worry, but I'm Australian. If the cats are only used to living around 10 degrees Celsius then 30 will be alarmingly hot. It really does depend on what the animals are used to.

Anonymous said: Do you believe in tortitude? Also if you do do you think it extends to the few male Tortoiseshell cats there are?

Yes, tortitude is a thing. The male tortoiseshell cats I've seen have been a bit odd in one way or another, but I usually see them when they're sick so my assessment may not be accurate.

@neonheart131 said: Hi! I was curious if dog breeds that get chronic ear infections can go deaf because of it? Im asking because i have an elderly (14 yo) english springer who i think has gone deaf or at the very least has severe hearing loss, and wanted to know if it was from his bad ears or just old age.

It's possible, especially if the ear canals are scarred or narrowed, or if the ear drum has been damaged. It is usually not the case though, dogs need to have something we term a 'terminal ear', to go deaf from external ear canal infections, which is when the ear is so scarred up it's basically closed and useless.

Anonymous asked: Do you think drop eared dogs get annoyed when their ears do that flippy over thing?

Maybe, especially the dogs with very heavy drop ears, like certain spaniels. It's another extreme of anatomy that I don't think is desirable, and these dogs are prone to ear infections which encourage them to shake anyway. Some will shake their ears so much they develop haematomas in them.

Anonymous said: Hey! Can I have some advice?? All good if not! So I have a blue heeler just over a year old. Anyway he used to have a pillows and blankets outside but he's ripped them up and I brought him a jacket yesterday because it's been cold in Victoria lately and over night he pulled it off and ripped it up (he sleeps outside mum won't let him sleep inside) do you have any tips of how to stop him from ripping stuff or something that will keep him warm that he can't ruin? He's not getting any other pillow

Unfortunately he may be one of those dogs that just can't have blankets, pillows or jackets without risking him eating them and developing an intestinal obstruction. You may be better off making sure he has shelter from the weather, but nothing within it that he can destroy.

Anonymous: Hello Doctor! How do you feel about guinea pigs? Personally, since I've kept quite a lot of them, they're adorable and well meaning little potatoes who are sensitive and can get sick easily from stress and environmental stuff (like if their cage doesn't get cleaned right away due to forgetfulness or being away).

I think they're underrated pets, though some have a bit of attitude (adorable potato attitude). I would be more inclined to keep guinea pigs than rabbits since we are not permitted to have a myxomatosis vaccine in Australia, and Guinea Pigs are not affected by it. They are generally not treated all that well by the general public though, widely regarding them as cheap and disposable pets.

Anonymous said: What kind of diseases can people get from walking in animal poop? Specifically goat and horse?

You are asking the wrong person for horsey information, but I don't think there are any parasites in those species that will invade human skin, most of those worm species are in carnivores. That said, you can still pick up bacterial infections, just like you can from anything else's poop.

@treebranchs said: hello! im too poor to get my cat spayed at the local vet (it's ~$500) but there is a bus run by PETA that comes once a month, called the "snip van," where many people get their pets fixed for under $100. I will most likely have to use this option but I feel nervous as I don't love PETA and the idea of a mobile surgery room sounds odd to me. I know you are Australian so perhaps they don't have these vans where you live. do you or your followers know if this is a safe way to get a pet spayed? thx

I to would be wary of PETA. There are such things as mobile surgery vans which can be fine for a small animal like a cat, but this will vary from van to van. I would recommend calling your local clinic to ask their opinion on it. In my experience vets haven't been too fussed about where a cat gets desexed, so long as it actually happens, but if they have any concerns about an organisation they might recommend somewhere else instead.

Anonymous said: Q Tax: I just like reading about vet life. My question: What's the BEST surgery aftercare you've seen? What are situations where you've gone in expecting the worse (of the humans) and been pleasantly surprised or relieved?

Honestly, as long as the wound heals aftercare doesn't have to be fancy. When I say 'clean, dry and rested' that's really all we need! When I say 'strict confinement' I don't mean let is go for a 5km run and jump over the couch. There's no need to get fancy as long as the basics are met.

Anonymous said: Hairless dogs and cats typically have "normal" looking snouts. Do hairless brachycephalic dogs or cats exist? What do/would they look like? I don't remember your current question tax but I look up to your blog and want to thank you for running it.

I really don't want to know. Many brachycephalic dogs have fairly short hair, but I don't know of any brachycephalic hairless breeds, and don't want to.

Anonymous said: If for some reason you didn't choose to become a veterinarian what profession do you think you'd have gone into? Personally I think with your love for stegosauruses you would be a great paleontologist.

While I certainly loved biology and genetics, I don't know if there would have been a career for me in those fields. I considered teaching and psychology, but they're not really for me either. I don't think I would be happy enough in either of those professions. Palaeontology seems to have quite a lot of digging, and the few I've met have lamented how much time they unfortunately have to spend convincing people that evolution is a real phenomenon.

Anonymous said: I've been a vet tech for over a year now, and my experience in clinic hasn't always been great - I've worked for some vets who treated their employees terribly, and other techs who went out of their way to gossip and try to make trouble for me. Sometimes I get disillusioned with this career. But then I think about all the awesome work you do, and the compassion with which you reach out to others, and realize there ARE great people in this field. So thank you.

Our field contains the gambit of human experience, but perhaps the one feature that unites most of us is this:

We all liked animals more than people.

For some of us, we learn to get along. Some of us have more difficulty, but there are all sorts of people in the veterinary industry. You just have to find the good ones and hang onto them like a lonely koala.