Turd Purrguson.

So, I was sitting here knitting away, minding my own business, when I heard first hissing, then The Charge of the Light Brigade, followed by a loud *crash.* Turned around and saw that, during their wrestling match, the black and gray angels ripped the curtains down from the front window.

Not just the curtains, mind you, but the rod and the fixtures, too. Now, if this had happened in the back of the house, would have left repairs until the morning. As it was in the front and we face the now glass enclosed hospital emergency waiting area, figured I'd jury rig something so that we'd not be offering up an all night peep show.

While I was doing my split on the cat tree and sofa back, trying to get the curtain rod to balance without the fixture, felt two sets of eyes on me: Black Cat's baleful glare and the Gray Boy's Turd Purrguson look. I call it the Turd Purrguson look, because the only other creature I've ever seen do as good an impression of Burt Reynolds in the Cannonball Run aside from my cat is Norm MacDonald. It's more than a little bit unsettling.

By the way: I can't believe this sketch is nearly 20 years old; as many times as I've seen it, never ceases to amuse. Interesting, too, is that it's one of the rare scenes where Will Ferrell plays the Straight Man.

Reestablishing Equilibrium?

Honestly didn't intend to bring another animal into the home so soon after losing Trouble, but...

Poor Magnolia, after losing her friend and suddenly having to deal with Tony on her own just doesn't know *how* to deal with the new interloper. Little black girl is dealing like a dream with all this. She's surprisingly well-adjusted for a shelter cat. About the best-adjusted cat we've seen.

The shelter folks were calling her Jet. That's a good name (brought to mind Jet Jaguar, in fact!) We've been calling her Molly, not just because she's a little black molly, but because that name goes pretty well with Maggie.

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly
she couldn't remember her troubles,

and milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:

and may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

***

Welcome home little Molly!

Goodbye, Little Trouble.

He'd been sick for a few months, seemed to be getting better.  Suddenly, over the weekend things took a turn for the worse.  Last night, took him to the hospital.  Today, the vet told us that both the heart and kidneys were having serious problems and, to fix one would put serious stress on the other.  Plus, he needed a blood transfusion, which his heart probably wouldn't survive.

Pavel gave the permission to put him to sleep and, tonight at about 6:40 pm, we let him go.

I can't imagine how Pavel's feeling; they lived together for over 10 years.  I just know that my heart feels like it's breaking right now.

Silly Cat.

Took the Frenchie to the Harvard Natural History Museum a week or so ago when he last visited. We try to make a pilgrimage every Spring, as it's one of our favorite places in the neighborhood.

Anyway, in the Geology section, I believe I was contemplating the cabinet of fool's gold (bright and shiny!) when he tapped me on the shoulder and asked me in his wonderful Yves Montand accent if I realized that they were going to be inducting Tony into the Rock Hall of Fame.

"No?" I asked, wondering if I was missing something.

"Why yes, because he is a seely-cat."



"Dignity, Dignity, Dignity." (Aah yes, we have sound now, too.)

Too Hot.

End of May in New England, the temperature should not be in the 90s!

Poor cats are dealing as well as they can:



Le Pauvre Trouble.



Langour.

Even noted that the fledglings are doing an awful lot of mouth-breathing. Do they not have sweat glands either? We put some ice cubes in the bird bath in the hopes that that would help some.

Weather breaks by the end of the week (hopefully!).

Pattern Recognition.



Noted a bit ago that this one looked an awful lot like something in those film strips we had to watch in Health Class back when they'd separate us into boy and girl groups for a few days each year.

The cats have been in rare form today leading Pavel to wonder aloud about what's been causing them to be all Hobbesian -like. (Dunno, maybe the weather? I know that low pressure systems sometimes drive me to distraction.) Anyway, there have been so many fights and so many different gang-up configurations that we renamed everyone:



The orange one is no longer Tony, but Brutish. Magnolia was christened Short.



What else could this one become, but Nasty?

Am noticing something interesting: Ampersand was not a happy cat. Her early life was rough and she was just too traumatized to really ever be at ease. I think she was thankful to have a warm place to sleep, people to keep her company and decent food to eat, though. The best I could do in her case was to make the end of her life better than the beginning.

Magnolia, on the other hand, seems to be a happy cat at heart who just went through some recent tough times. As the shelter folks thought might happen, she is starting to blossom into a more confident, strong animal. On watching her break up a fight between the boy cats today, I got the impression that she just might end up the boss of the house.



The Good Ship Maggie. Just got word from the vet: aside from some bad tartar and gingivitis, she's in good shape. Need to get a tooth cleaning scheduled soon.

Apparently, like me, she's a nervous eater when she's unhappy. Have her on a diet and am exercising her a good bit with the laser dot. She's going to be okay.

The latest indignity inflicted on the new girl cat came from the vet and was itemized as "Express Anal Sacs."

Pavel's response being of course, "when they absolutely, positively have to be there overnight. (No third class for this girl.)"

Pattern Recognition.



Look at the coloring, those eyebrows. (Thank heavens for no black teeth yet, anyway.)



Promotional picture from Misoguchi's Ugetsu Monogatari.)

(Feel as though I should be calling her Noko-san instead of Magnolia. She certainly acts as though I should.)

The Pale Flower of Spring Hill.



Daisy Magnolia. Daisy's what her original people called her. For whatever reason, the shelter she ended up at changed her official name to Magnolia. Pavel likes calling her Maggie, Mags or just Silly Maggie. I alternate between the simple 'girl kitty' and savoring the full four syllables of her pink flower name.

Brought her home last night with very little incident aside from a bit of totally-understandable miaowling in the car. First thing was to scope out a safe place under the bed, of course. After a minute or two, curiosity got the best of our heroine and she did a full exploration of the perimeter of the new living space.

Of course, the boys were fascinated. (This time around, I think that it's Tony who's got the crush. Trouble's interested, but not as obsessed with her as he was with Ampersand.) The girl is showing pointed disinterest towards them both.

Will be interesting to see how this all plays out. I know for myself that have had the heart hooked. She's really a dear. Hope she grows happier here.

The Sword and the Shield of Spring Hill.

Didn't know that I wanted to commit to another animal so soon after Ampersand's passing. I mean, my life's kind of hectic and not very stable at the moment. Got myself a couple of plants at the local Home Depot, then started researching other small animals like birds, fish, rats. Ended up springing $.28 at the local Petsmart for a couple little goldfish that I think are normally used to feed other fish:



The big, mottled guy's called Fabio and the little orange one's Skippy. So far I've managed not to kill them. As their bowl's right next to the head of my bed, I've woken up twice now to two sets of eyes staring at me.

It's amazing what a bit of pocket change can get you, isn't it? Pavel thinks the Coinstar folks would make a killing if they had an offer whereby one turns in their change for a school of fish delivered back into the change jar. (Crazier things have been tried.)

I may have moved too suddenly on the fish, though. On the buying trip, made the mistake of walking by the adopt-a-cat section. There were only two cats there: a small, long-haired black girl who looked an awful lot like &. Her name was Jada. The other was a fat, white girl with pink ears, a pink nose and pink toes. She was called Magnolia. Looked so, so sad.

-No, I said to myself. It'd be unfair to bring a cat home. What's my life going to be like over the next few months? Everything's totally up in the air right now.

Still, I kept thinking about her. Even dreamt of her one night. Oy!

Had Pavel bring me back to the store. If she was still there, I could ask some questions, maybe get to meet her. Turns out, she was. Apparently, they were having a hard time adopting her because she'd been sick. Also, she'd only ever been in one household and wasn't taking shelter life well. People often want an immediate bond with an animal, regardless of what species and she was very shy. A bit demoralized, too. Long story short: filled out the adoption paperwork, got accepted, and am going back this evening to pick her up. Pictures will follow, of course. How could they not?

Last week, the poor girl cat's six month heart warranty expired and she had to be put to sleep. Though she and I were more often than not at odds with one another, there was some genuine good feeling between us.

It's amazing how empty the house feels without her.



Angry centerpiece. Dad's place, December, 2009.

What's going on with Flickr? Anyone know? Haven't been able to access the site all morning.

Oop - it's back again. Boo.

Sick.

Pavel's in bed resting. A couple days ago, he started feeling a tickle, then a pain in the throat. Now, he's got this cough that rumbles up from deep in his lungs. We're hoping it's not an early flu. He's hungry, though, and eating a fair bit. Just really tired and sleeping a lot. If he doesn't get better in a couple days, I'm going to force him to go to the clinic across the street.

I've been pretty verschlucht myself, lately, but figured that it had to do more with the weird weather outdoors and the mix of hot-dry forced air from dirty ducts in a house that is perpetually drafty with a cold edge to it*. Also, suffer from allergies and an asthmatic wheeze.

Ampersand's heave has come back, too, though not as badly as when she had to go to the hospital. That'll arrive; just a matter of time. The doctor gave her six months and we're on month four already. Told Pavel that the next visit, if they can't do anything quick and dirty, that she really needs to be put to sleep. It's not fair if she's going to be terrorized and uncomfortable when she's old and not ever going to get better.

***

* Killer combination, that. Just about every house I've ever lived in here has been like that - old, uninsulated due to the availability of cheap oil for heating. Had a ton of insulation blown in over the past year or so, but still have some missed spots on account of future major projects. Also, the windows are terrible.

Texas Lynx.

Been to so many library sales recently that the memory of them is somewhat of a blur. Anyhow, at one of them, Pavel picked up a copy of Audubon's Quadrupeds of America, something neither of us knew existed.

What he liked to do, and what set him apart at the time, was to show animals in their natural settings, doing their own thing. In most cases, it ennobles the subject. In others, not so much.



Kind of leads one to wonder how many examples he caught in the act before shooting. (At least they died doing what they loved, anyway.)

***

Snort: Pavel's got the cat on his desktop with this running in the background. Great.

Cooking For Ampersand.

Don't let the scrawny, bedraggled look fool you; she's hell on wheels. Since coming back from the vet, she's regained some of her weight and all of her attitude.



Have found that the shaved spots are great for giving raspberries. She really hates that.

Though medicine time is awful, it's not nearly as bad as it was at first. This compound is kind of messy but much harder to spit back than pills.

Anchovy Surprise

What ever pills need to be taken at that particular time (Usually - morning, 1 vetmedin, 1/2 benazapril, 1/2 lazik; evening, 1 vetmedin, 1/2 lazik, sometimes 1/4 children's aspirin.)

1/8 t. olive oil (am thinking of getting some cod liver oil to mix things up a bit)

1 dot (scant 1/16 t.) as low salt as possible anchovy paste

1.) grind pills with mortar and pestle, transfer powder to saucer
2.) stir in olive oil until a paste is made
3.) mix in anchovy paste; form into a small ball.

To serve: wrap cat in towel, put her on back between knees, turn head up and gently coax jaws open. Toss a bit of paste into maw and cover with hand. When this is swallowed, try to get another bit of paste in. Repeat until medicine is finished.
Cat may try to drool medicine (mine does, she's very stubborn), so expect to catch it to put back into play.

(Yes, this is the flower of my recipe development to date.)

Girl cat's last wish may well be to outlive me. Two can play at that, though. Got some pill pockets, a love glove and some catnip today. Am going to kill the brat with kindness.

***

Didn't take long for her to figure out how to suck off pocket and spit the pill out. We're doomed.

Girl cat is very sick. Through some (in my opinion, extreme) heroics, she's been given another few months. This comes with a price, though: four different medications administered first three times, then twice daily. Girl cat does not like me much. She dislikes me even more when I'm trying to administer pills. She is very stubborn as well, often holding the pills in her mouth and pretending to swallow as many times as she thinks necessary to convince me to let her go. When free, she scuttles across the room and, looking at me all the while, spits the medicine out.

Since she's a serious fighter, I'm scared to death of either breaking her jaw or her neck during these wrestling matches. However, she's no compunction against biting me or scratching me up (even under a towel). I feel seriously out manned here. My hands are poked full of holes where the claws have dug in.

***

A dead French guy once said that, to better understand human nature in action, all one had to do was to observe a couple cats under close quarters. I agree, and will even go so far as to say that one can experience a lot with just one cat under close enough quarters. My struggles with girl cat are, in essence, the distillation of most of my interpersonal relations.

Wire drops were made in one of the rooms being updated. Lots of detritus carted off, as well. I had yet another Kafka-like interaction with a bureaucracy that's been dogging me for nearly 20 years. Will not let them get me. Eleanor of Aquitaine was imprisoned for the same amount of time by her husband - no money, no freedom, no interactions with others - and she bloomed. What I'm dealing with is far less severe and certainly far less important in the scheme of things. Still, it's important to me. Important enough to have consumed a good bit of my soul over the past several years, anyway.

While the guys were up knocking things around and singing loudly, I went into domestic mode and made some jam:



Queen Eleanor, King Marmalade and some confiture de pêches.

Peaches were $.99/lb at Stah, so went crazy buying. (If there's one thing I like better than eating cheap peaches, it's making jam out of them - ended up with 15 lbs worth of fruit.) Prepped stuff and sterilized the jars. Got about 1/2 way through before I had to clean up and head out to the doctor. Ended up with 15 jars, all of it slightly runny but jelled just the same.

Will finish the rest tomorrow. Then will have to go out and find more jars to start on the strawberries that I went wild over.