The Look

Anyone who thinks cats can't learn things hasn't lived with one. It took Theo maybe a month into his diet to figure out that I can ignore his whining, but this gets to me every time:

It Seemed Like A Good Idea.............

It may not look like it, but this

is a cat with stress issues. 

We flew out to Indiana for Andy's family reunion obscenely early on Thursday morning.  Because it's such a busy time of year for our friends, how much I would worry about fires with the drought this year, and because I wanted to poison the little vole-monsters who have been plaguing the garden all spring, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to board the cats while we were gone.  Because of our travel times, the cats were due to check in the day before we left and get picked up the day after we arrived.  I made the reservations well in advance, made a copy of their immunization records, and thought I was really pretty clever for coming up with this whole idea in the first place. 

STILL feeling like I was planning ahead, we dug out the suitcases Tuesday night.  I have joked many times about Theo getting upset when he sees suitcases come out because he hates change so much, but I always thought I was just joking.  As we now know--it's really true.  I woke up at 6:00 AM Wednesday morning with a kitty who was trying to urinate about every 10 minutes but couldn't.  Urinary tract infections are painful enough for anyone, but for male cats they can be quite dangerous.  Theo has never had one, but my old cat, Catanova, had, so I knew the problem.  So, rather than checking them in later in the afternoon after a trip to the gym as I had carefully planned, I collected the cats and took them to their hotel early so the vet could have a look at him.

It turns out that there are two things that can stop a cat from urinating:  stress, which causes inflammation of something and results in blood in the urine, or a bacterial infection, which is the one that can kill male cats.  But it also turns out that a stressed-out cat can hold his bladder for a good 24 hours.  So, the vet checked him, thought he looked okay, put him on a pain-reliever, and said they would keep me posted.  So, rather than getting to worry about the house burning down with the cats trapped inside, I got to worry about my cat's urination problems--because boarding one's cats in a cat hotel just isn't weird enough on its own.

Now I don't know what your experience has been with vets, but mine has been all over the place.  We've had the wonderful people who took care of Theo when he broke his leg, and I've had two of the I-need-a-new-boat vets--one of whom ran several hundred dollars worth of tests when I took Catanova in for fur falling out and sent me home with shampoo for a skin irritation which wasn't a symptom of anything they tested for (and, to add insult to injury, was until that point a friend of mine), and the other one wanted to operate on Theo shortly after his leg saga to REMOVE the pin in his leg when I took him in for coughing.  So, I was a bit worried that they put him on pain medication instead of antibiotics, and then was REALLY worried after the vet called and didn't know that Theo had been trying to urinate since before 6:00 AM and couldn't, in spite of my telling at least 3 people, including the one I called to ask if I could bring him in early to have the vet look at him.  I suppose it's possible, of course, that among their circles of friends they regularly discuss cat urinating in normal conversation, but I was sort of thinking that at least one of them might be writing it down.  I shall know to always look for pens or typing in the future. 

We had been trying to make sure everything went smoothly, because this was the first time I'd tried traveling since I hurt my back, and stress makes my back worse, and the Valium was only going to be helpful in a limited sense because the amount needed to relax REALLY tensed muscles is also the amount that would have made it really hard to get me off the plane in Denver and onto a connecting flight without the aid of a stretcher.  Luckily--and I'm sure I'll never say this again--getting up at 4:00 AM makes one groggy enough to compensate for the lack of drugs.  We had some time in Denver, so I called again and luckily Theo had urinated and did have blood in the urine, so it was just inflammation, and they were going to keep him on pain-killers and an anti-depressant while we were gone.  So, I enjoyed the rest of the trip with feelings of guilt rather than worry, which is a slight improvement. 

We arrived home Monday night sometime after midnight, and set off to rescue the cats pretty early yesterday morning.  They received a report card for their behavior,

which seemed pretty cheerful as Calisto growled and hissed all the way home.  I suppose "was a total jerk" and "terrified" doesn't earn repeat business.  Theo was sent home with pain-killers in pill form for a play-at-home version of the torture session, and it's possible that we gave him one last night.  Two humans, an 18 pound muscular cat, and half a turquoise pill made for an interesting evening, and as we could no longer find the pill anywhere, we think it might have ended up in the cat, but it isn't certain.  I'm speculating that NOT giving the pills will help relieve the stress and the inflammation faster than GIVING the pills will, but I'm keeping a close eye on him.

The cats were glad to be home and spent most of the day in the backyard,

but it took several hours to forgive Andy, and I--as the instigator of this whole horrible episode--have only gotten back into kitty good-graces this morning after a great deal of groveling and a solemn promise to find a cat-sitter next time......... 

Note To Self

Note to self:  Just appreciate that Theo's rodent gift is DEAD this time......and try not to focus on the fact that he's flipping it up in the air and almost hit me with it twice...............

Doin' Physical Therapy

We have to do twist stretches:

stomach crunches:

 Now a little rest:

 and full-length stretches:

Theo says I'm on my own for the pool stuff, though.....

Question for the Day

Am I annoyed because the cat enjoys walking across the laptop and somehow just managed to open a chat window with a total stranger, or am I annoyed because my cat has figured out how to do something on the computer that I don't know how to do?????

Progress!

I start physical therapy on Monday!  I am SO excited to have the solution to this back saga scheduled.  I'm trying not to focus on the part where the specialist renewed the Valium prescription because he said I would need it after therapy.  I'm a huge advocate of physical therapy, but the idea that I would want to be knocked unconscious after it is a bit unnerving.

Everyone continues to be wonderful--calling and dropping by to help.  And, of course:

My little sidekick barely left my side (or chest) for the first entire week.  This week we've both been able to move about a bit more, and unfortunately ONE of us thought a get-well mouse was a good idea.  But it's the thought that counts--which I can say as Andy caught the mouse before Theo lost it or brought it up to me.  I'm much more charitable about rodent gifts I haven't had to see.

The Good News And The Bad News

The good news is, we no longer have to worry about what happened to the mouse Theo lost in our bathroom when it crawled into a crack in the bathroom cabinets.

The bad news is, we know this because of the amazing rotting-animal smell that is now emanating from the master bath.

So.......

If you left your cats for a long weekend, then one of them brings in a live mouse and loses it in your master bathroom, do you think it's really an accident.......?

What The Feline Residents of Chateau Sutton-Goar Have Learned This Week

*  Don't try to eat bugs that can sting.

*  Yowling as if in pain gets the humans out of the shower much faster

*  Constantly picking fights with each other is an easy form of entertainment on rainy days, but it seems to make humans develop weird eye twitches

*  Humans do not share big outdoor litter willingly, and will occasionally run out of the house screaming about snow peas when one is practicing proper kitty hygiene.

Theo and I

After we went through the ordeal of Theo and the broken leg, he and I have formed a rather unique relationship, and I have grown to accept that Theo now believes my sole function in life is to entertain him. Fine.  Not that I'm going to, but I accept that he believes it.  He seems to also believe I cannot do anything without him,

I have also come to accept the fact that if Andy and I dare to go out in the evening, we will be greeted at the garage door by a strongly disapproving kitty--complete with twitching tail and usually lots of complaining meows.  Theo also has such strong associations between things that after the kitty physical therapist tried using a little bell for aversion therapy to get him to use his bad leg more, I have to remove the bell from all new collars, or else he runs around the house in terror.  After they brushed him each time he finished the kitty hydrotherapy, he is afraid of being brushed and I can only do it while he's sleeping.  I can live with all of that.

What I really wish we could get past is Theo's certainty that I need to know when he uses the litterbox.

When he first came home from the hospital, I had to saran-wrap his cast and hold him up in the litter box so he could use it, and then later had to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't developing a bladder infection or kitty constipation for a second time, so I really did pay a lot of attention to his litter box habits--I admit.  Unfortunately, Theo is an unusual animal with very strong associations, so if I do something once or twice, he automatically assumes it will continue indefinitely.  So here we are--two years later--and during the winter months when it's too cold for the cats to use the garden as humongous outdoor litter boxes, Theo thinks he needs to tell me every time he's about to use the litter box.  Every. Single. Time.  

You just can't buy closeness like that. 

As Much Help As I Can Stand

As some of you may be aware, I rarely get to do anything without my sidekick.  He helps me do the dishes,

and the laundry,

even the hand-washing. 

 

He helps me fold laundry,

make the bed,

and even on the rare occasions when I iron.

I have kitty assistance for sewing,

handling the garden harvest,

decorating, 

and working on the computer

or laptop.

When I had surgery....

I was hardly ever without my sidekick--who conveniently woke me up every four hours for my medication.  For the most part, I find his "help" rather endearing.

Except for gardening.  

So far this spring I have planted:
     onions
     spinach
     snow peas
     beets

So far Theo has dug up:
     onions
     spinach
     beets

The snow peas have only survived because I planted them under the mulch in-between the rows of garlic, and I don't think he can find it.  Sometimes, it's because he's doing hideous things in the garden beds, but other times he sees me digging and plops down beside me and starts digging away because he thinks that's what we're doing for the day.  Last year he dug up the kohlrabi and radishes as fast as I planted them.  This year we're starting earlier.  BOTH of us.  

I Suppose It Had To Happen

             2 cats
          + birds that aren't bright enough to fly south for the winter
          + lots of people at Soup Night to impress with one's hunting prowess

        -----------------------------------------

            Theo's Live Bird Floorshow!!!!!

Personally, I think it might have been to get even for the cast/water therapy thing, but maybe he was just sharing.  Luckily, one of the guests is a actually a pretty decent bird hunter, since somebody

turned the bird loose under one of the tables.

And yes, our guests CAN move pretty quickly when properly motivated.....

Not So Much

So, our theory was that if we had cats we wouldn't have mice. Boy, did we miss the boat on that one.

I came down the stairs to find Calisto snoozing peacefully on the sofa....and a mouse running freely through my living room. Only one of us was bothered by this scenario, and it wasn't a quadruped. So, I let Theo in, and while he chased it around the room several times, he really doesn't seem to have quite the killer instinct I was hoping for. I got a broom--because vermin loose in the house DOES bring out my killer instinct--and I thought we had him cornered in the kitchen, or could at least get him to the open back door. Nope. It is highly likely that there are some holes on the underside of your built-in kitchen cabinets that are big enough for a desperate mouse to get through because I can now say with certainty that there are in ours. So, I have one cat still napping, one cat trying desperately to figure out how the mouse vanished, and a mouse roaming free somewhere underneath my cabinets.

And I really would have sworn that spraying the squash leaves for powdery mildew was going to be the real low point of my weekend........

Our Garlic is Camping

So, the directions that came with the garlic said to not water them for two weeks before harvesting. I think it's getting too hot--and the stalks are mostly lying down on the ground, but I harvested the flattest ones--which are now "curing" in our garage for 3-4 weeksand with the help of my trusty sidekicks:I'm covering the garlic every-other day so it doesn't get water.
The cats think it's the best thing I done in months.

Day 52 - God Bless Readers!!!!

For some unknown reason--or at least one I haven't yet figured out--most comments on my blog come through as "no reply," so I don't always get a chance to reply to all the helpful, funny, encouraging comments everyone is leaving for me, but the comments are wonderful and you can blame them for the lack of a post yesterday. I was at Costco getting these
Canned black beans are legal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been scrolling back through old entries to find who tipped us off to this one--I'm thinking maybe it was Georgi? Anyway, we are THRILLED--thank you!!! (Who knew it was possible to get so excited over canned beans???)

While at Costco--because it takes a stronger person than me to not browse at Costco--I ran across these:
They are flour tortillas that you bake yourself, so they have no "banned" ingredients! This was almost as exciting as the black beans, because while I know corn tortillas are better for us, they're not as easy to work with. We celebrated by making Mexican food last night--it was so exciting!!!

We're having a "project" day. This is Andy's
(one of them), and this is mine:(one of them). I've been eying the primroses at Fred Meyer each time I go in there, and while I still think it's too cold for them outside, I assume they can survive as houseplants for a while--or at least die slowly enough that we can have a little spring in the house for a while.

Of course, Theo has his project too:We think he's enjoying not going to therapy, and he's getting more freedom all the time, but he's still not allowed outside without being on a leash. The bones are repaired but still a bit fragile & he's still rebuilding the muscles--some days more than others--and his recovery might take a full year, but at least we're through with the vet bills. I think we could get a large sign for the front of the house:

"We've done our part for the economy!
Just ask our veterinarian!"

Day 7 - A Little Nausea Does Solve The Whole Processed Foods Problem

OK, for the record, I am a total and complete wimp when it comes to blood, injuries, hospitals, doctors--anything in the "something isn't working correctly" category. I once had to flee a large luncheon (climbing over several older men in the process) because the speaker was discussing eye diseases and even brought slides to show. I stop people from describing their surgeries in detail because I will either throw up or pass out, and both are a real conversation stopper.

So, taking care of a cat who looks like this:
and trying to help him break down the scar tissue enough to be able to move his ankle out of this positionis keeping me pretty thoroughly nauseous--the upside of which is that I don't care what we fix for meals as I might not be able to get them down anyway. Not that we've been eating only questionable food so far--we've actually had steak twice and I've fixed pollo en feo mole verde (which translates loosely as "chicken in ugly green sauce"), but a few meals have been more of a graze than a meal--nuts, cabbage, carrot sticks, and cheese or homemade bread. Remarkably good for us and everything, but not likely to show up in Food and Wine magazine anytime in the near future.

Tomorrow Theo will spend the day in physical therapy, which is a bit of a relief. Today he has rotated between sleeping, licking his leg, doing our little hallway walks as assigned (which probably isn't helping anything as he hops on 3 legs the entire time, but they said to do it so we're doing it) and crying/growling/hissing when he moves his leg too much. As they didn't send home sedatives for either of us, I'm all for having someone else look after him for a day. I think he whines more out of frustration than actual pain, but it's really dreadful either way--especially as I can't make it better.

After today, it was time to use up one of my "cheats:"

Butterscotch mudslide

4 oz Kahlua
4 oz Irish cream
4 oz butterscotch liqueur
Ice (enough to make drink slightly thick)

1. Blend all together. Enjoy.

Theo could have probably used one as well, but he's been on a lot of drugs lately and it seems best not to encourage the habit.

THE CAST COMES OFF ON TUESDAY!!!

If you think time is passing too quickly, try living with a cat in a cast for 6 weeks.

Be Vewy, Vewy Quiet...We're Hunting Mouses....

Obviously in the holiday gift-giving spirit--and probably because Theo is getting so much attention lately, Callisto brought in a lively little mouse this morning, and promptly lost it here:
That's right--in the Christmas tree. Originally we thought he was just under the tree, but after removing (and thoroughly checking) all the gifts and the tree skirt, the mouse was nowhere to be found. Now mice can actually climb, and if you were a mouse and the alternative was to be slowly tortured to death by a cat, I'll bet you would be willing to attempt to climb an artificial Christmas tree. Which we think he did.

Callisto lost interest after a few minutes, so I brought out the heavy artillery:
I know his mousing ability has been seriously impaired by the cast and broken leg, but had I been able to convince him that there truly was a mouse loose in the house, I'll bet he would have been pretty amazing.

As it was, Theo spent the morning napping on the rug in front of the fire, Callisto spent the morning snoozing on the bed in the guest room, and I spent the morning with a yardstick & flashlight trying to find that darn mouse.

It's a good thing people who have pets live longer. I'm going to need my extra time to catch these dratted mice........

We Have Regressed

Yesterday morning our injured kitty, Theo, surprised us by pulling the cast off his foot entirely. Just two weeks after the surgery, there were lots of kitty screams going on--matched scream for scream by Yours Truly as I tried to keep a very angry cat from chewing up his own leg and causing a few thousands of dollars more in damage. Andy came running like the faithful husband he is, and we got him to the closest vet.

Today we're back to this:
Even with the new kitty pain killers (which mercifully cause serious drowsiness), Theo is now aware that the bandages come off and keeps trying to chew on it. The Elizabethan collar, the poodle-do--I can't say I really blame him for being angry. That's why we got kitty valium.

I wish I had known that helping him use the litter box might have been the high point of this whole process.......

Day 87 - At Least It Will Keep Our Minds Off Shopping

Today this entered our lives:Amoxicillin for cats (and, it looks like, small children, but we've chosen to not think about that one too much, though I suppose giving cats pediatric drugs is better than giving small children feline drugs...and it does probably explain the whole bubble-gum flavoring thing)

To be administered twice a day for a week to our least-social cat, Calisto, who only occasionally sees fit to tolerate Andy's existence.

If there are no further blog posts this week, you'll know my hands are too scratched up to type.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty.....