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I love our cats
Sep. 2nd, 2010 02:40 pmDaisy is our oldest and our littlest cat-- 7 years old, never got much over 10 pounds. She's our Halloween kitty, pure black, and she rules the house.
I was crashed out this morning with Ian sleeping on one side of me and Kaylee sleeping on the other. Ian started squeaking and wiggling, pulling his feet up the way he does when his tummy's hurting. And Daisy peered up at him, made the same low "mrow" sound she does when she's hunting pieces of paper for her imaginary kittens, and then hopped up to stretch out next to him. And he settled right down. :-)
I was crashed out this morning with Ian sleeping on one side of me and Kaylee sleeping on the other. Ian started squeaking and wiggling, pulling his feet up the way he does when his tummy's hurting. And Daisy peered up at him, made the same low "mrow" sound she does when she's hunting pieces of paper for her imaginary kittens, and then hopped up to stretch out next to him. And he settled right down. :-)
Thank you so much. . .
Aug. 17th, 2010 03:03 pmIn our house we have a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, our bedroom, Kaylee's bedroom, and two small rooms upstairs. Out of all this territory, where does one of the cats choose to puke?
On the wireless router.
On the wireless router.
Went across the Royal Gorge bridge. Beautiful view, even though I was hyperventilating half the time (dumb fear of heights).
Got to talk with my cousin Jenny again! She is awesome, and I got her hooked on the Dresden Files. Yays.
Kaylee got to play with her cousin Brandon, who is so completely adorable I wanted to take him home.
Went up the cog railway to the top of Pike's Peak.
One of the favorite parts of the trip: going to the Aquarium.
One of the least favorite parts: having our car motor decide it hated us and was going to die. On the Interstate. We had to rent a U-Haul truck and car dolly to get the dumb thing home. There was $500 I wasn't expecting to spend. . .
Got home and found out the cats had acquired fleas in our absence. Cue me washing everything in the house.
Saw the Friday the 13th remake last night. Wasn't half bad. (of course, my love for Jared Padalecki could be influencing my opinion)
Off to write some story notes.
Got to talk with my cousin Jenny again! She is awesome, and I got her hooked on the Dresden Files. Yays.
Kaylee got to play with her cousin Brandon, who is so completely adorable I wanted to take him home.
Went up the cog railway to the top of Pike's Peak.
One of the favorite parts of the trip: going to the Aquarium.
One of the least favorite parts: having our car motor decide it hated us and was going to die. On the Interstate. We had to rent a U-Haul truck and car dolly to get the dumb thing home. There was $500 I wasn't expecting to spend. . .
Got home and found out the cats had acquired fleas in our absence. Cue me washing everything in the house.
Saw the Friday the 13th remake last night. Wasn't half bad. (of course, my love for Jared Padalecki could be influencing my opinion)
Off to write some story notes.
(no subject)
Mar. 4th, 2009 12:56 pmWe just got the call. He's dead.
ETA:
Thanks, guys. *hugs back* The vet said that this problem tends to strike younger, neutered males, and that by the time recognizable symptoms show up it's often too late. He was sedated as soon as Chris got him there, and he never woke up. So at least he wasn't hurting.
We're going to alter their diet, and hope that helps prevent the same thing from happening to Marvin's brother.
ETA:
Thanks, guys. *hugs back* The vet said that this problem tends to strike younger, neutered males, and that by the time recognizable symptoms show up it's often too late. He was sedated as soon as Chris got him there, and he never woke up. So at least he wasn't hurting.
We're going to alter their diet, and hope that helps prevent the same thing from happening to Marvin's brother.
Wish him some luck, huh?
Mar. 4th, 2009 04:54 amChris just left the house . . . he's running Marvin out to the vet. Kaylee and I got home at about 10:00 and he was pretty listless. He'd raise his head and look at us and all, but wouldn't stand on his own. We wrote down the emergency vet number just in case; mom said he was acting like Midnight did when the vet diagnosed him with diabetes. So I put him closer to the litterbox, and when I put Kaylee to bed he'd come up the few steps to lie down there. I brought him in to Kaylee's room to lie down with us, and fell asleep for a couple of hours. When Chris came home at 2:00, he brought Marv out with him. He tried to give him some water, then some milk, no go. When Chris first got home he'd raise his head and look around, but by 4:30 he stopped doing that and his breathing's labored, so. . .
I don't know. When I came home he was acting like he might if he had diabetes, but right now he's acting like our cat Fozzy did a few years back. Chris and I got home from Vermont and found him lying on the floor, completely limp. Our friend who'd been coming by to feed them saw he was lagging around a bit earlier but thought he was just moping because we were gone. We didn't even have time to get home from the vet's office before she called to let us know that she had to put him down-- basically, kidney stones, and it was too far along for her to help. If it's the same thing, I hope we got Marvin out there in time.
Hell. He's a good cat. And the only one who really tolerates Kaylee well . . . Zot will get growly pretty fast, and Daisy's too skittish to stay around someone who makes a lot of sudden movements. Marvin just lies around and stretches and lets her bat at him.
I should try to go back to bed.
ETA: Chris got back. It's not diabetes. It's the same thing Fozzy had. The vet said he still might die but that if we'd waited until her office opened he would've been gone. She'll call when they know more.
I don't know. When I came home he was acting like he might if he had diabetes, but right now he's acting like our cat Fozzy did a few years back. Chris and I got home from Vermont and found him lying on the floor, completely limp. Our friend who'd been coming by to feed them saw he was lagging around a bit earlier but thought he was just moping because we were gone. We didn't even have time to get home from the vet's office before she called to let us know that she had to put him down-- basically, kidney stones, and it was too far along for her to help. If it's the same thing, I hope we got Marvin out there in time.
Hell. He's a good cat. And the only one who really tolerates Kaylee well . . . Zot will get growly pretty fast, and Daisy's too skittish to stay around someone who makes a lot of sudden movements. Marvin just lies around and stretches and lets her bat at him.
I should try to go back to bed.
ETA: Chris got back. It's not diabetes. It's the same thing Fozzy had. The vet said he still might die but that if we'd waited until her office opened he would've been gone. She'll call when they know more.
The post that inspired the following is here. I'm putting it up for reference's sake, though I strongly recommend against reading it. Suffice to say, an outdoor cat was killed in a particularly nasty way.
Now, everyone who thinks![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
auryn24 posted because she wanted to get lectured on what should've been done instead, raise your hands.
To the smug, self-righteous idiots whose first impulse in a terrible situation is to victim-blame . . .
1) Not all outdoor cats can be brought inside. We're caring for a feral one right now, but she won't let any of us get within ten feet of her. Sure, we'll just pick her up and bring her in the house to protect her; that'll work great!
2) People don't always have the money or the room to bring outdoor cats in. It's wonderful that you apparently have endless resources to care for every stray animal that needs help; some aren't so lucky.
But honestly, 1 and 2 don't even really matter. When you see someone grieving, your first instinct should be to help or at least offer sympathy, not cross your arms and sneer about how you would have done something different.
Now, everyone who thinks
auryn24 posted because she wanted to get lectured on what should've been done instead, raise your hands.To the smug, self-righteous idiots whose first impulse in a terrible situation is to victim-blame . . .
1) Not all outdoor cats can be brought inside. We're caring for a feral one right now, but she won't let any of us get within ten feet of her. Sure, we'll just pick her up and bring her in the house to protect her; that'll work great!
2) People don't always have the money or the room to bring outdoor cats in. It's wonderful that you apparently have endless resources to care for every stray animal that needs help; some aren't so lucky.
But honestly, 1 and 2 don't even really matter. When you see someone grieving, your first instinct should be to help or at least offer sympathy, not cross your arms and sneer about how you would have done something different.
More excitement than I wanted tonight
Jan. 12th, 2009 08:34 pmSo Chris and I headed out at about 1 in the afternoon to go run some errands and whatnot. Then he drops me and Kaylee off at my parents' to visit for a while and goes to work.
Cut to 7:45 tonight. Mom drives us back to the house-- and we see the door standing wide open.
We back out of the driveway and I call the police. Two squad cars arrive in about five minutes or so, and the cops go through the house. They, fortunately, didn't find anybody. I go through it afterwards, while they're still here, to check if anything's out of place. ((as dad said, if anyone had come in, the computer would be gone)) Nothing.
Figure it must be that the door didn't quite latch and the wind blew it open, or that Chris and I did that wonderful comedy of errors where he locks the door and I unlock it a few moments later.
We thanked the cops and they left, and now the cats are wandering around the house sniffing everything. Two of them are, anyway. I know I won't see Daisy for another five or six hours yet. Thank goodness we have a screen door.
Anyway, I suppose this should reassure me, that the door was standing open for about seven hours and nobody came in. I'm still pretty sure I'm going to stay up until Chris gets home.
Cut to 7:45 tonight. Mom drives us back to the house-- and we see the door standing wide open.
We back out of the driveway and I call the police. Two squad cars arrive in about five minutes or so, and the cops go through the house. They, fortunately, didn't find anybody. I go through it afterwards, while they're still here, to check if anything's out of place. ((as dad said, if anyone had come in, the computer would be gone)) Nothing.
Figure it must be that the door didn't quite latch and the wind blew it open, or that Chris and I did that wonderful comedy of errors where he locks the door and I unlock it a few moments later.
We thanked the cops and they left, and now the cats are wandering around the house sniffing everything. Two of them are, anyway. I know I won't see Daisy for another five or six hours yet. Thank goodness we have a screen door.
Anyway, I suppose this should reassure me, that the door was standing open for about seven hours and nobody came in. I'm still pretty sure I'm going to stay up until Chris gets home.
-- Chris is outside working in the yard. Specifically, putting out a birdbath and plotting out what kind of bench and flowers to put in Harley's Garden. :-)
-- The news is depressing me even more than usual, what with the whole "it doesn't matter if you actually pull the trigger, you hussy, we'll send you to jail for killing someone anyway!" thing, so I'm going to write and pretend the world doesn't exist for a while. My sanity will thank me.
-- Kaylee hasn't quite mastered the art of crawling yet. What she does is lie on her stomach, press her face to the blanket, stick her butt up in the air and then push off with her feet, scooting forward. Hee.
-- If I don't get over this stupid cold soon, I'm going to hurt somebody. And/or buy stock in Kleenex.
-- We have no idea what in the world Kaylee's favorite stuffed animal is supposed to be. It's pale green with dark green spots and huge blue feet and it looks like some oddly-colored cross between a cow and a giraffe. So I was playing with her the other day and I dangled the toy in front of her and went, "Grrr. Argh." and Chris laughed and said, "Well, the thing is a mutant", so now the toy's name is Emmy, short for Mutant Enemy. Yeah. We are proud of our geekery around here.
-- Zot is sleeping under my desk. This wouldn't be a problem if he'd stop biting my feet periodically to remind me that he's there.
-- The news is depressing me even more than usual, what with the whole "it doesn't matter if you actually pull the trigger, you hussy, we'll send you to jail for killing someone anyway!" thing, so I'm going to write and pretend the world doesn't exist for a while. My sanity will thank me.
-- Kaylee hasn't quite mastered the art of crawling yet. What she does is lie on her stomach, press her face to the blanket, stick her butt up in the air and then push off with her feet, scooting forward. Hee.
-- If I don't get over this stupid cold soon, I'm going to hurt somebody. And/or buy stock in Kleenex.
-- We have no idea what in the world Kaylee's favorite stuffed animal is supposed to be. It's pale green with dark green spots and huge blue feet and it looks like some oddly-colored cross between a cow and a giraffe. So I was playing with her the other day and I dangled the toy in front of her and went, "Grrr. Argh." and Chris laughed and said, "Well, the thing is a mutant", so now the toy's name is Emmy, short for Mutant Enemy. Yeah. We are proud of our geekery around here.
-- Zot is sleeping under my desk. This wouldn't be a problem if he'd stop biting my feet periodically to remind me that he's there.
Dammitdammitdammit
May. 2nd, 2008 02:17 pmHarley's dead.
Chris called me and any phone call that starts "I didn't want to tell you this over the phone" is never a good one. He said that our neighbors came home and found him in the road. He told me that he'd bury the poor thing when he got home (midnight, working overtime tonight) but I went over there with Kaylee in her car seat, and our neighbor helped me dig the grave while his wife watched Kaylee for a few minutes.
I opened the bag to say goodbye to him. There was blood on his nose and down his jawline and the eye I could see was all clouded over. Rest of him was dirty, but I didn't see blood. I'm hoping that means it was a head shot and it was really quick and he didn't know what happened. But if it wasn't quick then he was lying there trying to breathe and I wasn't anywhere around. He didn't deserve that, even if it was quick, and the asshole who did it didn't even stop and if I knew who it was I swear to god I'd beat the shit out of him.
We buried him in the backyard and then I went to get Kaylee and when we went back home there was another cat waiting on our porch. A couple of them have started hanging around since we began feeding Harley. We've named this one Cheerio because she has an old large, circular burn mark on her side where the fur's grown back shorter. And there's a tiny black one who's just started to approach me, but won't get any closer than ten feet. I think she's feral. They both go at the food like they haven't eaten in weeks.
And I'll probably find one or both of them killed sooner or later, too. But I'll keep feeding them because what else do you do? I tried to help Harley but I didn't help him enough because I couldn't bring him in-- our littlest cat doesn't deal well with attempted new additions, she hides and freaks out and pees all over everything-- and now he's dead. Shit.
Chris called me and any phone call that starts "I didn't want to tell you this over the phone" is never a good one. He said that our neighbors came home and found him in the road. He told me that he'd bury the poor thing when he got home (midnight, working overtime tonight) but I went over there with Kaylee in her car seat, and our neighbor helped me dig the grave while his wife watched Kaylee for a few minutes.
I opened the bag to say goodbye to him. There was blood on his nose and down his jawline and the eye I could see was all clouded over. Rest of him was dirty, but I didn't see blood. I'm hoping that means it was a head shot and it was really quick and he didn't know what happened. But if it wasn't quick then he was lying there trying to breathe and I wasn't anywhere around. He didn't deserve that, even if it was quick, and the asshole who did it didn't even stop and if I knew who it was I swear to god I'd beat the shit out of him.
We buried him in the backyard and then I went to get Kaylee and when we went back home there was another cat waiting on our porch. A couple of them have started hanging around since we began feeding Harley. We've named this one Cheerio because she has an old large, circular burn mark on her side where the fur's grown back shorter. And there's a tiny black one who's just started to approach me, but won't get any closer than ten feet. I think she's feral. They both go at the food like they haven't eaten in weeks.
And I'll probably find one or both of them killed sooner or later, too. But I'll keep feeding them because what else do you do? I tried to help Harley but I didn't help him enough because I couldn't bring him in-- our littlest cat doesn't deal well with attempted new additions, she hides and freaks out and pees all over everything-- and now he's dead. Shit.
Morning in Kansas
Mar. 31st, 2008 10:47 amIt started storming late last night, and the sound of rain usually puts me right to sleep-- apparently it worked for Kaylee, too, since she slept until 6:00. We changed her and gave her a bottle, and a couple of hours later Chris left to drive to school.
Not long after that, I woke to the lovely sound of continued rain, thunder, and the tornado siren.
I thought, "Is it Monday?" Remembered the answer was yes, but thought it was definitely irresponsible of them to run their usual noon test when it was storming out.
Then I realized it wasn't noon, and the light dawned.
Picked up Kaylee and took her to the one room in the house that has no windows, which is her teeny little closet. Patted down the corners to check for spiders, then grabbed a handful of her pants to lay along the wall so she wouldn't bump her head, and set her down. Closed the door and ran upstairs to get the cat carrier. Realized that the second one was out on the porch to provide shelter for Harley.
Tried to get a hissing, growling Zot into the carrier. He finally went, but neither Marvin nor Daisy would also fit in there without tearing either me or each other up. Gave up on that, and headed out to the porch to call for Harley.
He wouldn't show up, and it was at this point that I realized I was wearing a longish shirt, underwear, and no pants. Spared a second to be grateful our neighbors were not home, and then darted back inside.
Grabbed a flashlight so there'd be light in the closet, and my flash drive. Sat down with Kaylee and started to shut the door, heard the cell phone ringing. From the bedroom. Muttered at myself for forgetting it, put Kaylee back down, got the phone. Told mom we were okay, and that was all I had time for before it went dead. Muttered at myself again for letting the battery get that low, put it on the charger, went back to the closet, and the siren went off.
Good times, good times.
Not long after that, I woke to the lovely sound of continued rain, thunder, and the tornado siren.
I thought, "Is it Monday?" Remembered the answer was yes, but thought it was definitely irresponsible of them to run their usual noon test when it was storming out.
Then I realized it wasn't noon, and the light dawned.
Picked up Kaylee and took her to the one room in the house that has no windows, which is her teeny little closet. Patted down the corners to check for spiders, then grabbed a handful of her pants to lay along the wall so she wouldn't bump her head, and set her down. Closed the door and ran upstairs to get the cat carrier. Realized that the second one was out on the porch to provide shelter for Harley.
Tried to get a hissing, growling Zot into the carrier. He finally went, but neither Marvin nor Daisy would also fit in there without tearing either me or each other up. Gave up on that, and headed out to the porch to call for Harley.
He wouldn't show up, and it was at this point that I realized I was wearing a longish shirt, underwear, and no pants. Spared a second to be grateful our neighbors were not home, and then darted back inside.
Grabbed a flashlight so there'd be light in the closet, and my flash drive. Sat down with Kaylee and started to shut the door, heard the cell phone ringing. From the bedroom. Muttered at myself for forgetting it, put Kaylee back down, got the phone. Told mom we were okay, and that was all I had time for before it went dead. Muttered at myself again for letting the battery get that low, put it on the charger, went back to the closet, and the siren went off.
Good times, good times.
Yesterday was an exercise in hurting myself. I leaned over to get some laundry and whacked my head on the edge of a stack of photo frames that were on top of the dryer, hit my funnybone on a doorframe. . .
But best (worst?) of all, I was getting the cats' food when one of them nudged the door open and raced into the pantry. I automatically reached down to grab him, and my hand got too close to the base of the door. The shooting pain in my finger let me know what had happened (I'd done it once before during a play rehearsal) but I really didn't want to look at it. Chris was in the room by this time, having heard my yelp and subsequent swearing, so I just held out my hand. I knew from his "Ohhhh man" that I'd definitely gotten myself good.
I hurried to the sink and ran cold water over it to numb it, and told Chris to get the camera, deciding that if I was going to zap myself this bad I'd at least get a funny story and accompanying photograph for later.
Managed to pull the splinter out and head into the kitchen before I had to very abruptly sit down.
It's doing better today-- I can actually pick Kaylee up, unlike yesterday-- and so far today (knock on wood) I haven't hurt myself. I'm still not going to operate heavy machinery.
But best (worst?) of all, I was getting the cats' food when one of them nudged the door open and raced into the pantry. I automatically reached down to grab him, and my hand got too close to the base of the door. The shooting pain in my finger let me know what had happened (I'd done it once before during a play rehearsal) but I really didn't want to look at it. Chris was in the room by this time, having heard my yelp and subsequent swearing, so I just held out my hand. I knew from his "Ohhhh man" that I'd definitely gotten myself good.
I hurried to the sink and ran cold water over it to numb it, and told Chris to get the camera, deciding that if I was going to zap myself this bad I'd at least get a funny story and accompanying photograph for later.
Managed to pull the splinter out and head into the kitchen before I had to very abruptly sit down.
It's doing better today-- I can actually pick Kaylee up, unlike yesterday-- and so far today (knock on wood) I haven't hurt myself. I'm still not going to operate heavy machinery.
Epic battle
Nov. 10th, 2007 08:55 amI was woken up this morning at a little after six by a bunch of crashing around in the kitchen. Figuring that the cats found another Monster Death Cricket, I look at the clock, grumble a few choice words, and go back to sleep.
Hear more scrambling around at about eight, and drag myself out of bed. This is the sight that greets me:
Cat: 1
Paper towel roll: 0
I'm so proud.
Hear more scrambling around at about eight, and drag myself out of bed. This is the sight that greets me:
Cat: 1
Paper towel roll: 0
I'm so proud.
Our fierce hunter
Nov. 1st, 2007 04:38 pmYesterday, I looked out the kitchen window and saw Harley stalking something near the garage. He pounced at it, and then did that hesitant batting thing cats do when they're not entirely sure what they've cornered, they just know that it's smaller than they are and moving, and therefore they're going to eat it.
Envisioning something spiny and/or poisonous, I go out to see what he's found. I move closer, and a tiny gray furry thing darts under a pile of leaves. Harley starts to chase after it, and so I picked him up and moved him over to his food bowl on the porch. I know, nature red in tooth and claw and all that jazz, but still.
This morning I get home from work, and what's lying on the porch to greet me but the tiny gray furry thing. I think it was a mole.
Harley is, of course, incredibly proud of himself.
Envisioning something spiny and/or poisonous, I go out to see what he's found. I move closer, and a tiny gray furry thing darts under a pile of leaves. Harley starts to chase after it, and so I picked him up and moved him over to his food bowl on the porch. I know, nature red in tooth and claw and all that jazz, but still.
This morning I get home from work, and what's lying on the porch to greet me but the tiny gray furry thing. I think it was a mole.
Harley is, of course, incredibly proud of himself.
I wish I could've gotten a picture
Sep. 14th, 2007 08:57 pmSitting here getting some editing done, and I hear these weird rattling noises out on the porch.
Normally I am a paranoid little person, but when 1) it's dark, and 2) Chris is away, it gets even worse. So I sit here for a minute trying to decide if it's something normal and nope, definitely not. Finally I get up, go into the kitchen, and switch off the kitchen light and switch on the porch light as I peek out the window.
Raccoons. Three fat, fuzzy raccoons on the porch batting around the cat's food bowl.
Me: *has cuteness attack*
Before I can go get my camera, they waddle off the porch and hide under the van, and then I see movement in the van itself. Harley's taken advantage of the fact that Chris left the window open to sit on the back of the passenger seat, staring at the intruders.
Might have to start bringing in the food bowl at night.
Anyway, I called mom about the latest Weird Animal Story, and I hear dad in the background-- "She saw raccoons? She's not going outside, right?" Me-- "Tell him no . . . they're adorable little puffballs, but they're puffballs with sharp teeth. Door stays locked."
I probably would've rolled my eyes at the question, if I hadn't given poor dad so many reasons to be paranoid over the years. ;-)
Normally I am a paranoid little person, but when 1) it's dark, and 2) Chris is away, it gets even worse. So I sit here for a minute trying to decide if it's something normal and nope, definitely not. Finally I get up, go into the kitchen, and switch off the kitchen light and switch on the porch light as I peek out the window.
Raccoons. Three fat, fuzzy raccoons on the porch batting around the cat's food bowl.
Me: *has cuteness attack*
Before I can go get my camera, they waddle off the porch and hide under the van, and then I see movement in the van itself. Harley's taken advantage of the fact that Chris left the window open to sit on the back of the passenger seat, staring at the intruders.
Might have to start bringing in the food bowl at night.
Anyway, I called mom about the latest Weird Animal Story, and I hear dad in the background-- "She saw raccoons? She's not going outside, right?" Me-- "Tell him no . . . they're adorable little puffballs, but they're puffballs with sharp teeth. Door stays locked."
I probably would've rolled my eyes at the question, if I hadn't given poor dad so many reasons to be paranoid over the years. ;-)
