Straight from the cold, mean streets outside my massage therapist’s office comes Fu Manchu!

My dad Photoshopped Fu's eyes from evil red to blue for me. The red eye is extreme and rather sinister-looking.

Weighing in at 6 pounds, 3 ounces, Fu is an intact, male chocolate point Himalayan with an oral fixation. Seriously. I didn’t know about it until this morning, and it’s kind of creepy. He took a chunk of my shirt into his mouth, and working his little brown feet like there was no tomorrow, started sucking.

Hmmm…

Not so much.

Hopefully the dog is into that, because I think he’s going to have to find an alternate resource with whom to get his freak on.

At any rate, Fu Manchu – previously known by a name that reminded me of The Taliban and thus had to go – hopefully does not have leukemia or some horrible, unfixable illness. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one for imaging bad things for sport, it’s just that he was running a fever at the vet yesterday, and she got a little grim.

He's like a little Jawa!

As far as we know, he’s about a year old, has never been vaccinated, and has been living off the land for about two months. I find this rather shocking for a cover-of-Martha-Stewart-Living-pure-bred-long-hair feline. I suppose I always figured cats like that would just explode into a pile of fairy dust or at least find a sad grandma to mooch from if abandoned, but I guess not. Or maybe Fu is just dumb? If so, he will make an appropriate addition to the stupid pet menagerie I’ve got going on, currently featuring the cheerful and idiotic Dozer (who, appropriately enough, is licking the couch as I type this.)

Anyway, having roughed it the last few months, Fu was in less-than-stellar shape.

After dealing with his ear mites, chin acne, and a minor abscess (so much for the ‘free’ new pet exam), he was given a week’s worth of antibiotics for the fever. Presuming it is gone by then, he’ll be neutered on Tuesday.

Dozer thinks this is the best thing EVER.

And Tuesday cannot come quickly enough.

Did you know that intact, adult male cat urine is a biological weapon?

Seriously, it is so unspeakably horrible, I don’t even know where to begin.

But let me try…

First off, the cat himself, despite being a super cute little fluffer bunny, smells like piss. Scratch that. He REEKS of piss. It’s almost like he rolled around in filthy litter and then dumped a bottle of ammonia all over himself.

Secondly, his use of the box (which thank god he knows how to do) – just a single time – renders it something so foul, so abhorrent, and so beastly that I think he could land in a part in the next Saw movie. Saw VII: You’ll Wish You Were Dead.

He smells, but I wuvs him.

Lastly, there is almost nothing I am more judgmental about than walking into someone’s home and being blown away by the stink of cat pee. And now I am mortified that this little cutie boy is going to render me one of ‘those people.’

You know.

The ones you walk by at Target and think, “Did I just smell cat urine?”

That’s why until he’s neutered on Tuesday he’s either in the crate or in an unfinished basement room. I am a soft-hearted rescuer of poor, helpless animals…but I’m not a sucker.

In conclusion, lest he sound rather awful, let me assure you that Fu Manchu is extremely sweet and laid-back dude. I went ahead and ordered him a tag for his collar today, thus making him official.

Welcome Fu!

It’s nice to have you on board…once you stop stinking.