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Maelstrom Tear

@maelstromtear.bsky.social

he/him - Mitchell Toolen, but feel free to say Mitch, Mael, or "Hey, You!" Podcast editor/producer in order to pay for too many model kits. Saying artist and writer sounds too good, so I'd rather say doodler and scribbler.

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Maelstrom Tear@maelstromtear.bsky.social · 2w ago

Just realized I don't have a pin. So you know what, here's my animals, Guster and Mona. This is what gets me up every day. Usually literally! And a tribute to my muse, Maximus. They have had some adventures in their own right, but probably only the alt text would be able to cover that.

Guster is my boy. I know that plenty of people call their cats their kids, but we share the same hair color. He is my son. Gus was found by a family friend who couldn't take them in because he has dogs. And being the requisite family that takes in strays, we took him in. While he does meow plenty (usually for food), his real is his purr. I have never had a cat with such a loud motor. Different speeds and trills and even a little harmony depending on how relaxed he is. Right at the start of 2020, Gus got sick. Enough that we had to take him to the emergency vet in the middle of the night. He had crystal buildup in his system that caused blockage. A procedure would be costly. But his purr told me I had to go with it. So after getting, quite literally, torn a new one, he made it out and was fine. For a while. Around 2024, his right eye started to get darker. The vet said it was glaucoma, and not only would he lose sight but the pressure in his eye would be causing him pain. So one enucleation later, and he becomes a pirate. All fine, right? Well. Come December 2025 I notice he's being real cautious with jumps. Another trip to the vet. Same thing, total blindness. Now he's a double-pirate. He's still pretty mobile. As you can see, he can navigate the cat tower and chill in the sunlight. And even plays with toy mice! And of course, the motor runs loud as ever. I love my boy.This is Mona. She was found completely by accident in a series of silly events. Did you know that in addition to purring, Gus loves hunting? We had a night where a baby garter snake somehow made its way through the cracks in the basement into MY ROOM. Gus found it first, still having some vision but obviously a sharp nose. Even though it was a baby, I didn't want him to get hurt. So I grabbed it with a paper towel and went outside to toss it. And in our backyard, there was a slightly bigger black mass. Not a snake, but a fleabag of a kitten. Missing fur, scratching constantly and lots of obvious bug bites. A meow like an old lady who smokes two packs a day. And despite looking quite feral and definitely not housed, she came up and rubbed against my legs like it was nothing. Now mind you, this was only a few months after Maximus passed (which if you're reading these in sequence, sorry for spoilers) so I wasn't even sure if I was ready for another cat besides Gus. But sure enough... I coaxed her into a cage we had for the dogs (I love the dogs but they are my parent's so no time for Zeus and Luna's stories) and called the vet first thing next day. Even then I wasn't sure, I had them in the system as "Turd" because having a real name brings attachment. You can guess by now that didn't stick. Though looking back, she's still kind of a turd so maybe it was the right call. No chip, no history. Just a chance meeting. Eventually she grew her hair back very slowly. It was like the reverse of a printer losing toner. Now Mona pesters Gus and finds every angle to get into my lap when I sit down. Most of the time I oblige.Maximus Bosch is such a grandiose name, but look at the guy! He was a king! All the way back in 2006, this runt was found in the park by a family friend where I worked at the pool. And being the house that takes in the strays... I was just starting high school when he came into my life. Sure he was your standard issue cat, but he carried himself like a prince. That is, until he meowed. Never got that puberty hit. Max was my shadow. Wherever I'd go, he was there. If I took a shower, he would be at the door. He was weirdly fond of the soap smell. Wasn't much of a lap cat, though. He did like to sit on me when I was in bed, usually if the food bowls weren't filled to his liking. Which kind of defeated the purpose of getting me to get up. And if you tried to sit next to him, he would get up... Just to walk around and then come back in the same spot. Like it had to be "his" decision to honor you with his presence. Max lived to the ripe old age of 14. I'm pretty sure he's still here somewhere. I definitely feel him sitting on me sometimes.One more picture to show Mo and Gus' usual dynamic. She also now wears a bell to give him a little chance.