This is SO my cats

This guy is just hilarious -- and obviously has a cat. I get this tag-team style!

Day 25: Home Sweet Home

It is great to visit family, but it is also great to be home. It's funny to me that as an adult, you are always "going home." I went "home" for Thanksgiving on Wednesday because I went to where my parents are. That is always home. Today, I came to my own place, I came home.

Anyway, the drive in wasn't nearly as bad as I feared it would be. Slow in the areas I expected, but never a dead stop like I feared it would be and has been on other trips. Most people were driving sanely and the ones who weren't tended to meet Texas' finest.

Traveling with my cats is an experience. I know the whole time I was at Moma & Daddy's house, I was afraid the cats were annoying everyone. Maxie has the most annoying (to me) meow when he is upset, feels he's being left out of the festivities, or just wants attention. On the way home, there was no calming him. He was between the blanket and the car seat yowling at me. It's this deep gutteral "MIIRRWOOOOOWWWWW" sound that tends to carry. He did it in the garage at Mom's (where he could get a lovely echo going) and in the car THE WHOLE WAY HOME (with the exception of a few minutes here and there) just to let me know his displeasure at his situation. Buddy was calmly laying on the center console touching me. As long as he was touching me, he was fine

So, now I am home, the car is unloaded, the cats have been fed and are wandering around sniffing everything to make sure nothing has changed in the four days since they were here. I need to unpack and do a couple of loads of laundry and fold some of the laundry I left undone when I left. But it can wait. I'm home now. I'm on my own couch with my feet on the coffee table relaxing. It's good to be home.

Day 11: Cats are funny

I know I said I'd only talk about the cats (1) on Saturdays or (2) when they scare the complete crap out of me (see Day 2). Well, tonight I am sitting here on my couch laughing at the cats. I have 2 identical chairs in my living room. They sit side by side. The cats only like one of them. I have actually rearranged the two chairs and it is the not actually the chair but the location they seem to like most.

Maxie was laying in the chair tonight alseep. Buddy got up into the chair with him and shoved him out of the chair. He started out laying next to Max, then rolled over and put his feet on Maxie and started stretching until finally he was sprawled over the seat of the chair not leaving Maxie enough room! Now, Maxie is a slim 18 pounds and stands 16 inches tall at his shoulder and Buddy is only 9 pounds and rather petite. A little later, Maxie went back and battle royale ensued over said chair. Maxie won that and reclaimed his spot.

After a quick nap, Maxie got up to do his regular patrol of the house. Buddy took advantage and is now sleeping round in the chair and Maxie is sleeping on the rug.

Strange kitties.... or maybe just a bored kitty's person who promised herself she'd blog every day in November and she just didn't have anything else to blog about!

Day 10: It's Caturday Again!

Days where I can just sit on the couch and snuggle with the furry ones are probably my favorite days of all. Sadly, those days are few and far between anymore.

It is great to come home to little furry faces like these, though.

Day 3: It's Caturday...

Well, according to the website Icanhascheezburger.com anyway. I love to go to that site when I need a little pick-me-up because there is always something there to make me laugh.

But most days, my own kitties will make me laugh with their antics. So, just as an introduction, here they are and the story of how I got them.
I moved to the DFW area about 13 years ago. A year or so after I moved down here, I decided, after much thought and consideration, I wanted a cat. I was toying with the idea that I'd get two so they could keep each other company, but probably I'd only get one. I wanted a kitten or young teen cat. I went to many, many SPCA, local rescues, etc. looking for the "right" one. I found a kitten I adored, but the Humane Society wouldn't let me have him... I refused to sign the paperwork saying I'd never do have a cat declawed. The DNA-ed (Do Not Adopt) me and humiliated me in front of a group of people by announcing they were DNA-ing me and why. (I have to admit, I did have my cats declawed, but knowing what I know now I wouldn't ever have another cat declawed.)

I left dejected and started calling around. I found a small pet food store about an hour away that had kittens for "sale" (technically a donation to the owner's TNR (Trap Neuter Release) effort)... they were rescued by the owner of the shop's rescue organization and they were available. I drove over immediately and was greeted by three beautiful about 12-week-old. long-haired, identical black kittens. I selected the shy one in the corner, who became known as Buddy. As I was checking out, I heard this pitiful cry from the cage they were in.... up popped this tiny, bat-eared, blue eyed kitten from the litter box. He stood there on his back legs crying. He was so tiny and pathetic sounding that I asked about him. The owner said that he was the "runt" of the litter... (the nursing mom had been trapped and the kittens collected with her). He was so pathetic that I got him too and named him Maximillian. When I took them to the vet, he said that it was more likely that Maxie was a second "litter" and was born while moma kitty was still nursing the babies from the previous litter... Moma was a Maine Coon mix and Max and Buddy are half-brothers. And, as they say, the rest is history!

Day 2: Big Scare

Pardon me while I try to pull my heart out of my throat.... when I got home from work/grocery shopping today I had the beginnings of a headache, so I fed the guys and lay down on the couch for a bit. I woke up a while later to the sound of my front door creaking and the cats out on the front porch!!! I started to close the door and Maxie ran inside. I peaked outside and there was Buddy and he ran inside when I said his name.

I have carefullly attempted to put the fear of the front porch in my guys or so I thought. OMGoodness!!!! It terrifies me to even think about what 'could have' happened -- not so much to me but to the guys. I am generaly so very, very careful to make sure I shut my front door and LOCK it. I can't believe I didn't get the door shut completely and .... OMG!!!!

Buddy now has dazzing white teeth

Last night my cat Buddy couldn't eat. He sniffed the food, took a bite and then dropped the bite immediately. I knew he needed to get his teeth cleaned because his gums were infected, but had been putting it off. I called right then and made an appointment for him for today.

Teeth cleaning for cats is considered surgery since they have to be sedated. I took him into the office this morning thinking I would just drop him off and go to work. I got to the vet's office at about 7:40 and didn't get out of there until nearly 8:00! (I was a few minutes late for work. Oops.) I actually had to sign paperwork stating that I was permitting them to sedate my cat and that I understood that sometimes animals don't wake up from sedation... um, yikes! I signed the paperwork since they assured me that it is simply a formality and that it "rarely" happens. Again, yikes... rarely? They told me he'd be through surgery and that they'd call around lunchtime to let me know how he was doing. So, with an extra scratch on the head, I handed him off to the vet tech. By the time I got to work I had a headache and my neck hurt from the stress of having my "just a cat" having surgery.

I waited impatiently until 1:00 to call. They, they said around lunchtime... to me that is between 11:00 and 1:00. I thought I showed great restraint in waiting. He wasn't awake yet, but the surgery was done. There were no extractions, thank goodness and he was doing fine. Big sigh of relief. They said he'd be ready at 4:00. :::Whew:::

The whole thing made me think... it might be a good thing I don't have kids. If "just a cat" stresses me to that point. Not only that, but I feel so guilty about not getting him in earlier. I knew he needed a teeth cleaning. I knew he wasn't eating as much as normal and was losing weight. Yet, I let him get to the point that he couldn't even eat! What kind of cat guardian/person am I? A thoroughly guilt-ridden one who now has a cat with sparkly clean choppers!!

Traveling with Cats

I went to the Panhandle to see all the family there this weekend. I stayed at Uncle J's house and, because it's so expensive to board the cats and they HATE it, I asked if I could bring them with me. He's got a great sunroom, said the guys could stay there, so I packed them into the car and off we went.

I got harnesses and leashes for them to travel and packed them into the car with toys, food, dishes, litter box.... Maxie howled for the first hour. After that, he whined and voiced his displeasure for another three hours and finally, for the last hour, settled down and napped some. Buddy was quiet and except for the shaking violently, was okay. He figured out he could put his paws in my lap while sitting on the center console and relaxed doing that. He was fine after that. It was like traveling with kids (I assume) with all the "stuff" I had to take for them.

When we got to Uncle J's house, we unloaded all the stuff and packed them into the sunroom. Buddy immediately hid in the box Grandmother provided for hiding. She said she likes to spoil her great grands... so she gave them a box. Hmmm... don't kids usually like the box better anyway? It was all good as long as they couldn't see me. That was easier said than done since there were French doors between the sunroom and living room. Anytime we were in the living room, they could see me and Maxie would howl -- especially at night because I slept on the sofa bed and he could see me. But, by night three, he had calmed down and wasn't quite as vocal.

The grandparents are doing okay. Granddaddy is about the same as the last time I saw him. He is so quiet and just sits and listens or watches TV so it is hard to know how he was really doing. I did notice some short-term memory problems, though. He would ask a question and then a little later ask the same question. He'd do this three or four times in a row. That is a little hard to see. It is also hard to accept that he's a frail old man now. I know, he's 87 and had a full life and all, but he's MY Granddaddy and he's supposed to live forever... :::sigh::: yet, the way I saw him this weekend is the best he'll be.

Grandmother is a mess... and by that I don't mean doing poorly.... she's just a mess. She had the pacemaker put in on Thursday. Friday she seemed to be in quite a bit of pain but was reluctant to take the pain meds. She groused about being waited on. She grumbled about not being able to cook for her family. By Saturday, though, she was doing much better. The pain, she said, was all but gone. I think she was just frustrated because she can't use her left arm because she can't raise it up or lift anything with it until she goes back to the doctor next Monday. There was only one scary moment with her, really. She complained Saturday morning that she was light headed and dizzy and it felt like her heart was racing. Uncle J called the doc's office and they told him to take her blood pressure and check her pulse. We did and everything was normal. I don't mean that she didn't feel that way, but for the first time in recent memory, her BP was within normal range AND her pulse was 72. I am sure that it did feel like it was racing since before the pacemaker her "normal" pulse rate was about 48 beats per minute!

By Sunday, both Grandmother and Granddaddy were feeling good and we (Uncle G, Aunt J, Uncle J, G&G) were able to go out to dinner. It was nice and relaxed and I heard stories about when Granddaddy was a boy and had a hot pepper eating contest with his friends.

Monday morning it was time to come home. I loaded the guys up and off we went. Maxie and Buddy both settled down pretty quickly and it was an uneventful ride home -- only minimal whining from Maxie.

Only When Your Mother Visits

Last night I de-catted my house. I swept, vacuumed, then mopped the tile floor, vacuumed the bedroom, vacuumed the furniture, did part of my laundry, disinfected the kitchen (okay, so that one isn't so unusual... I bleach the kitchen a lot thanks to a particular microbiology class :::shudder:::) and just in general CLEANED my house. Tonight I plan to dust it really well and re-sweep and finish up the laundry when I get home from school.

Not only did I de-cat the house I attempted to de-fur the cats with this de-shedding tool I go a while back. It is a knock-off of the Furminator that I got at PetsMart by a brand called Bamboo. Normally, I comb them using a fine toothed flea comb, but I didn't seem to be getting much fur lately but there still seemed to be many furballs left as gifts for me. Those pictures they show of mounds of fur beside the animals isn't far from truth. Buddy is a small animal and I am pretty sure I got about a half pound of fur off of him! (Picture is from the Furminator website.... Bud is actually black.) I put the fur into a grocery sack and had about half a bag of fur from Buddy alone. Just think that is one or two less furballs I'll have to clean up and that much fur I don't have to sweep up!

Anyway, I can't be the only person in the world who does this mad cleaning thing when certain people come visit. I've noticed that when some people come to my place, I will pick up and maybe run the broom around to get the big chunks of stuff and the inevitable fur/dust-bunnies I have. But, when certain other people come, like certain friends or my parents, I feel I must go all out and make my house (at least look) immaculately clean. I'm not sure why I drive myself so crazy about it. I mean, Moma knows I'm not a great housekeeper.... she saw my bedroom when I was growing up! She's going to be at my apartment for less than 24 hours and I've already spent 2 hours cleaning!

I make it sound as if I am a pig.... I'm really not, but I also don't get stressed out if I end up with five pairs of shoes under the coffee table or there are dirty dishes in the sink.

Oh well, the upside is that the house is really clean and Moma is stopping in on her way to Amarillo to see A&D and the kids (or more appropriately, the kids and A&D).

A Wool Pi and 100 degrees

I have a group of folks I chat with online (we're all crazy cat people with diabetic cats) and one of them makes a cat bed called a Kitty Pi. The are knitted with wool yarn and felted to make adorable cat beds.

Well, I got one for each of my guys in the mail all the way from Canada yesterday just as the weather has really heated up. Wool kitty beds in August.... hmmm. They did seem to enjoy them, though. (Maxie is the big kitty in the front, Buddy is in the back)

Well, for the first 20 minutes they were in the house they loved them, anyway. Then they decided the tile floors were cooler. My guess is, they won't be using them any time in the near future since this is our forecast for the five days....

WEDNESDAY: high 99 low 79 THURSDAY: high 100 low 79 FRIDAY: high 101 low 79 SATURDAY: high 102 low 79 SUNDAY: high 100 low 78

I guess honestly, I shouldn't complain since it is August 8 and we have yet to reach 100 degrees this year and we've had lots and lots of rain so we're not in a major drought. Still, 100+ degree weather makes me (and everyone else) cranky. Thank goodness for air conditioning!