Tony Needs Your Help! Please Donate if You Can

Tony, who’s one of the best writers I know on the subjects of racism, gun violence, queer topics, and comics, is going through one of those extended dry spells where he can’t find employment no matter how hard he tries. As if that weren’t enough, he just had an emergency with his 15 year-old kitty that resulted in a substantial vet bill. His kitty didn’t make it. So he’s got grief on top of joblessness and bills to worry about. If you read his blog, partake in the Pharyngula thread he and RQ curate, or follow him on Facebook, you know he’s working his ass off to bring us solid content every day. Unfortunately, blogging doesn’t pay the bills. Any of my readers who can spare some cash would be doing him a solid by dropping some coinage in his tip jar. Thank you so much for your help, my darlings!

Image shows a very handsome man with penetrating dark eyes and a regal bald dome.
Tony! Y’all might know him as the Queer Shoop. He is one of the most awesome human beings I know.


Tony Needs Your Help! Please Donate if You Can

5 thoughts on “Tony Needs Your Help! Please Donate if You Can

  1. 1

    Best of luck Tony, I did what I could. I miss reading the regulars at the lounge so much, but you were most welcoming there and the reason I felt okay to comment. Thanks for that.

  2. 5

    Ah, I can finally access FtB!

    Thank you so much for doing this.
    And a hearty thank you to everyone who has donated. I’ve been despondent the last few days, obviously. I’d like to share a few details about my cat, Kayta, whom I chose to put down. This is the last photo I took of Kayta. It was taken at the emergency vet clinic late Thursday night/Friday morning. I took her in bc I noticed she had drops of blood coming from somewhere. Initially I thought it was her anus, but it was actually vaginal bleeding. When I took her in, the doctor said that it was one of three things: a bacterial infection of some sort, a thyroid issue, or a kidney problem. She ruled out the kidney issue bc Kayta’s kidneys felt fine. She told me my options, but given that I’m jobless, and those options involved hundreds of dollars, and maintaining her health after those tests cost hundreds more dollars, and given that she was 15 years old (which the doctor said was on the high end for cats), and given that I didn’t want her to suffer (she wasn’t visibly in pain, but y’know, she’s a cat, so there’s no way to know just by looking at her), I opted to put her down. That was something that the doctor suggested as a possibility. I told her I came in mentally preparing myself for that possibility.

    Despite the fact that I had to put down one cat before (6 years ago), it was still rough. They asked me if I wanted to have a few minutes more to spend with her and told them no, bc really, there’s no amount of time that I could spend with her that would make up for losing her.

    God, typing this is harder than I thought.

    They asked me if I wanted to stay in the room while she was euthanized. I wrestled briefly with that. When I had Kara euthanized several years ago (she had kidney failure), I stayed in the room, and oh my god, that was so rough. To go from having a lovable, affectionate cat who is purring and alive to a dead cat in the span of 15 seconds…that’s such an awful, heartrending experience. But I chose to stay with her. I wanted to be with her in her last minutes of life, no matter how hard it was for her. It took about 15 seconds and she was gone.

    God, this hurts so fucking much.

    I took her in today to get cremated. I’ll get the remains back in a week or two.


    I can’t leave this comment on such a downer, dour note, so let me tell you all about how I encountered her.

    It was winter of 2000. I’d just returned from celebrating New Year’s in Atlanta, Georgia. At the time, I lived in North Alabama (Huntsville, to be exact). It was frigid during that time. Not Northern US cold, but we got snow and frost. The temperatures routinely fell around freezing or below for weeks. Which is awful to me, bc I *loathe* the cold. Anyway, the apartment I lived in was on the first floor of a multi-story complex. As I opened my front door, I heard a meow and turned around and saw a little kitten. An orange tabby cat. She was friendly and let me walk up and pet her. It was cold out and I thought she might be hungry. I brought her some food (this was back when Kara was alive, so I had cat food), which was adult food, but it was something. I also brought her milk (which I did not know at the time, but learned several years later you should not do, bc cats are not supposed to consume the type of milk we drink). She devoured the food and the milk.

    Some of the details are foggy, bc this was 15 years ago, and ya’ll know human memories are quite fallible. I recall trying to contact the number on the collar she had. I *think* it went to a voicemail, or maybe there was no answer. I can’t recall. In any case, I couldn’t reach the owner and was left with the dilemma of “do I keep her or put her back outside”. That wasn’t really much of a dilemma. I chose to keep her.

    The most precious thing that I’ll remember is that upon deciding to keep her, I walked back to my room, and collapsed in my bed (remember, trip from Atlanta for New Years-I was exhausted). She followed me, hopped up on my bed and took a nap with me. I thought that was so adorable and precious. It’s one of my fondest memories of her. She stayed with me ever since.

    I’m going to miss you Kayta. I love you so much.

    And once again, thank you to everyone who donated. Your donations have relieved the financial burden I’ve been under and helped make the loss of Kayta just a little less difficult.

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