Terrorized by a Smart Ball

Hi everyone. Maverick here with another edition of my blog/column “Cat Tales.” It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. I’ve been super busy taking care of my mom and being terrorized by a smart ball. More on that later.

My mom had her surgery a couple of weeks ago. Things didn’t go as well as her past surgeries. If you’re new to my column, my mom and I moved away from the UP for a while because she needed surgeries and medical care she couldn’t get locally. Anyway, the surgeon had told her this was a difficult surgery and that she’d be in the hospital for a while. Imagine my surprise when she came home the next afternoon. I knew something was wrong. She looked horrible. I was glad to see her, though, and I knew my nursing skills were needed. 

My new catsitter brought my mom home from the hospital. She’s a retired nurse. Right away, my mom got a shower while my sitter stayed and made some mashed potatoes for my mom. My mom couldn’t eat normally because the surgery was in her throat. As it turned out, my mom couldn’t eat the mashed potatoes because they got stuck; she couldn’t swallow them. It turned out that all she could eat was pudding and ice cream, and she was in so much pain that she could barely drink anything. She still isn’t back to drinking or eating normally, but it is getting better. I asked her why she was home so early, and in an extremely hoarse voice, she said that there was red and black mold in the bathroom in her hospital room. She told the nurse, but the nurse didn’t do anything about it. She remarked that it was my mom’s anxiety, which made my mom mad. The next morning, she told them she was well enough to go home, that her friend was a retired nurse, and that she would be checking on her, which she did by phone. She wasn’t about to stay there in those horrific conditions.

On top of all of that, the doctors gave her too much fluid, and her feet were very swollen. One of them still is. Years ago, when she had cancer surgery, they gave her too much fluid, and she ended up in the coronary care unit in a different city. And there is more to this, but I’m just not going to write about it; let’s just say this has been a bad experience for my mom. 

My mom and I have been playing musical beds. At first, she had to sit up all night and try to sleep that way. Now it’s kind of back and forth with some sleeping in bed and the rest on the love seat in the living room. I love to sleep with my mom, but I need my sleep, and frankly, she’s not sleeping much, which means I’m not sleeping much. I’m her caretaker right now, so I need to be alert and well-rested. When she’s on the love seat, I don’t usually sleep there, but I check on her. When she’s in bed, I sleep with her. But honestly, we are both sleep-deprived. There is no such thing as a good night’s rest in our house right now.

Earlier, I mentioned that I have been terrorized by something called a “smart ball.” When my sitter brought my mom home from the hospital, she told her that she and her husband had ordered a toy for me, and it was being shipped. My mom and I were excited that I was getting a new toy. A few days later, my mom got a call asking if my sitter could bring my present over. My mom always taught me to be thankful for everything, but I have to say that it’s been a little hard to feel it. This ball is a terror, and I think it has the capability to run amok and do harm. Beth, my sitter, was telling my mom that there was a charger in the box so that when the ball stopped working, she would need to charge it. My mom had a dubious look on her face. Beth put the ball on the floor, and it went crazy. It was as if it was on speed or something. It flew across the room, bouncing off things and acting wild. When it went under a piece of furniture, my mom let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was stuck under there, only to have the ball find its way out again, terrorizing us. I hid. My mom was doing a side-step shuffle every few seconds because that ball kept aiming for her. Then Beth took off, leaving us alone with the maniac ball. I kept peeking around the corner, wondering where it was, only to have it whiz by. I could feel my whiskers move; that’s how fast it was going. I thought it was going to break my nose. My mom wasn’t feeling well and got on the love seat with her feet up. She couldn’t catch it; it turned direction on a whim.

It was probably about 10 minutes later when it stopped, but we don’t know where. We can’t find it, not that we’re trying very hard. We like that it’s not terrorizing us, but my mom and I were talking, and we have a bad feeling it’s going to show up on our bed in the middle of the night sometime. Seriously, we’re afraid of it. My mom and I aren’t fans of technology. We both have a laptop, and my mom has a cellphone, but that’s pretty much it. We’re not into AI or any of that other stuff. We rely on our brains to get things done. Plus, we don’t want tech-things spying on us. So it boils down to this: we have a crazy smart ball hiding in our apartment waiting to terrorize us and maybe spy on us, too. It was nice to get a gift, but this is the first time I have wanted to give it back. I’m wondering what would happen if that ball showed its ugly self again, and I opened the front door, if it would terrorize the neighborhood? Just a thought.

I don’t have any books to recommend because I haven’t had time to read any, but I do want to remind cat parents not to feed their cats people food. It can cause unseen damage to their organs and cause other health-related issues.

I also want to say hi to a few friends: Mittens and his sister Lily, Spooky, Spaghetti Betty, Oscar, Oliver, Mr. Simon, Lani, Patrick, and Friday. I included Spaghetti Betty because I haven’t talked to her in ages. Hopefully, things will calm down some this fall and winter. I do know her grandparents from California were moving to the Sault, but I don’t know if that has happened yet. I miss her, though.

Okay, that’s it for this month’s column. Today’s quote: “Cats show their love not by words, but by their presence—always nearby, always comforting.”- unknown

Have a great rest of the summer, and to all the kids going back to school, please pay attention to your teacher, and do all your homework. Study hard. 

Love Maverick

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Maverick

My name is Maverick, and I am 11 years old, and this is my first column. My mom adopted me when she found me outside her home, underneath her car. Someone had shot me. When the doctor wanted to end my life, she told him if there was a chance that I would make it, then do everything possible for me. She wanted me to know there were good people in this world and know that I am loved. It took five months to nurse me back to health. I had congestive heart failure, too. At the end of the five months, I finally met my two brothers for the first time. Boy, did I love them and my new home. I am so glad my mom didn’t listen to that doctor. If you have any questions or want to comment, you can reach me at maverick@eupnews.com. I would love to hear from all furry and non-furry pets and their moms and dads.

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