A good time was had by all. Especially Kismet.
That pretty much sums up Christmas with Mycah, Packet, and Kismet.
Mycah celebrated Boxing Day in style in 2005. Not so much, this year.
Long holiday weekend or not, the Modulator's Friday Ark is afloat.
Carnival of the Cats #250 will be hosted at the Cat Blogosphere, which you are reading every day already, right?
Kismet woke me up earlier than usual this morning. I have had maybe four hours of sleep.
I have no coffee in the house.
None. No instant coffee, even. Just decaf. This is a personal disaster beyond compare, beyond belief.
Sure, there's a Starbucks five or six miles from here... but a trip out of the house requires a lot of preparation on my part — which might be impossible without caffeine. I'm guessing they couldn't be bribed to deliver.
I wonder how Diet Coke tastes, hot?
Maybe I can suck on some used coffee grounds.
Kismet is a certified bona fide member of the Mycah Fan Club. He doesn't try to snuggle with her, but where she goes, he often follows, usually trying to get a paw on her.
Mycah, however, merely wants to be left alone — in this case, to do her "business" in peace.
She's much more tolerant of Kismet than she is of Packet. One of these days I'll get a recording of her giving the fluffy lad a very vocal warning to stay clear.
Board the Modulator's Friday Ark.
The Carnival of the Cats #247 will be at Mind of Mog.
Kismet did it to me again today — woke me up well before I'd had a full and/or decent night's sleep. I think I got about five hours.
I've got to try to find a way to keep him from nibbling on my nose. Locking him out of the bedroom at night may be the only answer.
I think tonight I'll leave my camera on the nightstand and try to capture the moment if he does it again. It's annoying, but it's sort of cute, too.
One of the cats has insisted on waking me up every morning this week, two or three hours before my alarm clock is set to go off. The loss of sleep is getting to me.
I'm not naming names, but... well, OK, it's Kismet, who has taken to licking my face and grooming my hair. Plus, he likes to make "happy feet" on my shoulder or chest. I have the tiny little claw marks to prove it.
I think I may have to start locking the cats out of my bedroom.
Kismet gave me a bit of a scare on Halloween.
I finished work Friday at midnight, as usual, and went downstairs to feed the cats, as usual. They ate like the greedy little pigs they are, as usual. And we all headed back upstairs, as usual. Kismet and Packet got some feather/string and laser play time, as usual. Then they disappeared for naps, as usual.
About 3am, Kismet came out looking for some attention... and I saw that his left eye was absolutely blood red and very weepy. He could barely keep it open; he wasn't really trying to do so. He seemed to be in a bit of distress — he was rather more subdued than usual.
I took as good a look at his eye as I could; this is not easy to do if he doesn't want to be caught and held, so I had to coax him close with some Temptations treats, the sound of which, as usual, brought Packet and Mycah scampering, too.
[Yes, Mycah scampers... though she does so in a much more deliberate way than the young boys.]
I could see that Kismet's eye was inflamed, but of course I couldn't tell why... so, on the general principle that you don't take any chances with eyes, I bundled him into a carrier, called the Emergency Pet Hospital, threw on some sweats and a coat, and headed out.
He was, to say the least, unhappy. He knows that a trip in the carrier means that people are going to do unpleasant things to him. His piteous meows are, either by chance or by design, enough to break your heart.
Well, the late-night vet had a good look at him, put some drops in his eye, and determined that he wasn't injured, but rather that he has some feline variety of a virus. I was too distracted by Kismet digging his claws into my arm to get the full story on that. We were sent home with some medicated eyedrops.
[During a followup call to the vet, conjunctivitis and herpetic keratitis were mentioned.]
The drops seem to be helping. His eye looks a lot better, and he keeps it open more consistently.
Sorry, I didn't get a "before" picture.
He gets the eyedrops twice a day, which purely coincidentally is how many times a day I need blood transfusions. No connection between those two facts. Nope, none at all.
Make mine O-negative, please.
As hard as it is for me to believe, the Depomedrol injection Kismet received Wednesday afternoon appears to be working.
Seemingly overnight, the lumps in his skin have receded to near nothingness; his sneezing/snottiness has disappeared altogether. Remarkable.
This is what we would refer to as a Very Good Thing.
Kismet still has to have his antibiotic pills because of the biopsy wound, but otherwise he's a happy camper.
You can tell how excited he is by his recovery. . .
His behavior — poking his nose into everything, pulling things off my desk, and so on — remains unchanged.
Oh, and sleeping too. Lots of sleeping. But I suppose that's natural.
Friday. Ark. Be there.
The Carnival of the Cats will be this weekend will be hosted by Niko and Cloud.
It's been an exhausting day, and I haven't got anything either terribly deep or really exciting to say. Fortunately, I have two fallback positions.
The first would be to find something interesting someone else said and make it a Quote of the Day. This might work, if I'd had time today to do any reading.
The other option is to write something about one or more of the cats, or post a picture. Fortunately, one of the various things I did today was take Kismet to the vet for an injection of Depomedrol to deal with his newly-diagnosed allergies.
It was a pretty quick trip, so his stress levels were not quite as high as they had been on his last trip, when the biopsy was performed.
On his return, he celebrated by shredding some of the paperwork from the vet.
We'll see how he's feeling tomorrow. I am, of course, hoping the injection is effective. Fingers crossed.
Just as I was getting ready to head to the garage for a bit of lathe work, the phone rang; it was the vet. She had the results of last week's biopsy of the lumps on Kismet's arm.
The verdict: eosinophilic granuloma, which implies allergies. (Maybe that would explain his sneeziness, too...?)
Tomorrow he will have to suffer through another trip to the vet, to get an injection of some sort of cortisone or steroid something-or-other that ought to handle it. Apparently such injections are semiannual affairs. I can live with that... and I hope Kismet will be happier for it as well.
You can tell he's thrilled at the prospect.
Or not.
Home is the sailor, home from the sea. . .
. . . and the kitteh home from the vet.
He seemed rather glad to see me when I picked him up at the vet's; as soon as we got home and the garage door was shut, I let him out of the PTU (still in the truck in the garage) — he practically leapt on me and delivered serious purrs and headbutts, and chewed briefly on my nose.
I think it translated to "I'm glad to be home, but do this again and I'll hurt you." He has stitches that will have to come out in two weeks, so I'll make sure my insurance is up to date.
Little does Kismet know that he gets to be pilled daily for the next two weeks.
Packet had his annual rabies update yesterday. He took it well. They love him there at the vet's office.
This morning, a bit over an hour ago, I dropped Kismet off at the vet's office. The strange lumps in his armpits haven't responded long-term to antibiotics, so the vet is going to do a biopsy. I'll pick him up late this afternoon.
He hates hates hates going to the vet; he cried the entire way during the drive there. Once there, though, he started purring — loudly. If that's part of the fear response, then I might as well give up right now on ever trying to understand cat psychology.
I haven't slept yet. If I'd gone to bed, there's no way I'd have been able to wake up in time to get the lad to the vet.
Now I'm off to bed. Don't expect me to move before 4pm.
This has the ring of truth to it.
Vis-a-vis bathroom visits: Mycah is about 20%, Packet perhaps 50%, and Kismet about 95%.
To: Cats
From: Management
I have had a long night at work, and I'm extremely tired — due in no small part to your insistence yesterday, during the hours of the morning I tried to sleep, on having an extended verbal disagreement.
I have a squirt bottle full of water, and I'm not afraid to use it.
Just try me.
The cats all have nicknames which I use from time to time.
Mycah... well, she's Mycah, but from time to time, she is "Your Majesty." She demands it.
Kismet is often referred to as "Trip" due to his habitual efforts to stay half a step in front of me wherever I go. He is also occasionally referred to as either "Nosey" or "OCD Boy" for his habit of poking his nose into everything and his obsession with removing objects from tabletops.
Packet is the inscrutable one, but he can't avoid being called "Fluffy Buddy" — because, let's face it, he's about as fluffy as cats get, and he does like lap time, unlike either Mycah or Kismet.
However, in moments of frivolity, he bears the moniker "Captain Fluffytoes." I'll let you be the judge as to why.
Packet takes great delight in parking himself on my desk or on an adjacent work table, just within arm's reach, for a thorough head-skritching.
He usually manages to knock everything in his path off the desk or table.
And he always seems to look pretty pleased with himself.
For additional Friday cat viewing opportunities, the Modulator's Friday Ark is always recommended.
On Sunday, the Carnival of the cats is at Chey’s Place.
And of course, you can (and should) visit the Cat Blogosphere every day.
Come, let us reason together me eat you.
Thanks to all those who voted Wednesday, the video of Kismet spotting a bug was the #1 video of the day (and #3 for the month!) on Purina's Pet Charts.
He wasn't done with the bug, though. Later in the evening, Kismet spotted it again, and tried reasoning with it.
Kismet's main argument: he wanted to eat it. The bug's counterargument: it didn't want to be eaten.
Though he made his case forcefully, I don't think Kismet was quite able to convince the bug to come down for a tete á tete.
It's time to board the Modulator's Friday Ark.
Sunday, the Carnival of the Cats will be at Artsy Catsy.
I uploaded a video to Youtube yesterday, intending to use it for my traditional Friday catblogging, but there's a change in plans.
It seems someone at Purina saw the video, and have added it to today's Pet Charts list of top videos. Which is nice.
Kismet spots a bug and tries to talk it down:
Do us a favor: click through to the Purina Pet Charts site, scroll to the bottom, and under "Top Videos" click on the Kismet video (currently listed as #5 — you may have to scroll to the right) and then click on the green "vote now" button.
[Update: since it's no longer the 10th of September, try going here instead. Kismet is a real attention... seeker.]
We thank you for your support.
Now what am I going to use for Friday?
(See the followup video here.)
A few weeks back, I submitted a photo of fluffy lad Packet to Monty's Doing the Q contest. It was a sort of ordinary pic of him being a Long Cat.
He... um... he won.
Packet thanks all the nice people for their votes, and congratulates the other winners.
We continue to keep Monty's family, who recently lost their beloved Sprout, in our thoughts and prayers.
This week in the mail, we received from my sister a bumper sticker:
We like, we like.
Is it already Friday? With my unusual work schedule, it's hard to be certain... but you'd better go visit the Modulator's Friday Ark, just to be sure.
And on Sunday, a visit to the Carnival of the Cats at Counting Cats would be in order.
I've talked before of Mycah's method for getting my attention. It has left me scarred, physically — for quite a while, I was unable to feel her efforts to get me to give out treats, and eventually she learned to meow when she wanted something... but not before she'd cut me to ribbons.
Now that I can feel her, she's again figured out that poking me is the way to get me to pay attention to her. And I finally had my camera ready to catch her in the act.
And she has the nerve to wonder why I want to keep her claws trimmed, and to complain when I do manage to get her in my clutches.
It's Friday; a visit to the Modulator's Friday Ark is required.
The Carnival of the Cats this week is at Robyn's place.
From: Management
To: the Cats (Mycah, Kismet, Packet)
It has come to our attention that in the past 24 hours, certain of the house rules have been, to be kind about it, overlooked. In light of this, we would like to remind you of the standards we expect our guests to maintain.
1) The litterboxes are intended to be used for certain biologically necessary functions. They are neither full of toys nor are they archaeological dig sites. Please use them for their intended function.
2) In a similar vein, the carpets are not to be used for litterbox activities. In short, don't poo on the carpet. We are not assigning any blame for the incident which occurred sometime while the Housekeeping staff was off duty this morning... but we are fairly certain it was Mycah. In future, please use the litterboxes.
3a) Though we have taken steps to avoid the formation of hairballs, our efforts have obviously been in vain. We shall redouble our efforts in this regard, but would appreciate it if, in future, hairball expulsion be carried out on a surface that is easier to clean than carpet. (See item #2 above.)
3b) In addition, it would help the Housekeeping staff immensely if, regardless of the surface upon which the hairballs are expelled, you would confine such activities to one spot, rather than making multiple attempts in multiple locations around the house.
4) As for #3b above, but substitute barf for hairball.
5) Be aware that carpet shampoo is not without cost. We would be most reluctant to be forced to choose between the purchase of carpet shampoo and a regular supply of Whiskas "Temptations" treats. Though regrettable, such a choice may be forced upon us due to budgetary constraints and your wholly voluntary behavior.
6) Please note that killing the Housekeeping staff while they are descending the stairs, though no doubt satisfying, would be a suboptimal long-term solution; as you are no doubt aware, you have neither opposable thumbs nor access to the car keys. Please attempt to avoid interfering with Staff while they are walking.
Thank you for your cooperation in these matters.
Respectfully,
The Management
From: the Cats (Mycah, Kismet, Packet)
To: the servant
Get bent. Bring on the treats.
No respect at all,
The Cats
The Carnival of the Cats this week is at The Catboys’ Realm with Kashim & Othello and Salmone.
But first, go visit the Modulator's Friday Ark.
Mycah seems to be back to her normal self.
The tests came back normal, and there is no apparent reason for the blood spots she left on the carpet last week; I'm thinking she just did it to freak me out.
It's possible, I suppose, that the blood came from somewhere other than a UTI. I see no sign of any injury on her, but perhaps there was something — it might explain why she was moving so slowly last week.
The vet has put her on a different variety of prescription food, and she's gobbling it right down and begging for more, the little piggy.
I mentioned that when I went to pick Mycah up on Monday afternoon, I would be bringing Kismet in with me for his rabies update, and to have his sneezy sniffles checked out. There doesn't appear to be any reason for the snottiness, but he's getting lycine in his food three times a day now, so that may help.
The lumps under his armpits are back, too. Having ruled out ringworm the last time these lumps were an issue, the vet now wants to biopsy them. In the meantime, he's on Clavamox twice daily.
Fingers crossed.
It's just after 9am, and for the first time in I don't know how long, I have stayed up late enough after work — I usually finish sometime between midnight and 1am — to see a sunrise.
I didn't stay up in order to see the sunrise, I stayed up to take Mycah to the vet as soon as they opened their doors. The sunrise was merely an unpleasant side effect.
As was the morning rush hour traffic. Sure, it's nothing like the misery I endured for four years in San Jose, but it still sucks.
I've taken her in to the Cat Clinic and the wonderful Dr. Hodge early before, but I'd always done so after a couple hours of sleep. Not so today. I used the wee hours of the morning to clear my backlog of South Park and New Yankee Workshop episodes from the DVR.
Mycah is spending the day at the vet in order to generate a urine sample. She has, in the past, been notoriously uncooperative, so by keeping her all day — I won't go to get her until maybe 7pm — she ought to produce for them. She'd better — after the grief she gave me when it was time to bundle her into the PTU this morning, I'm not ready to put up with any "I refuse to pee" nonsense from her.
In the meantime, it's my day off and I'm going to bed.
Update: she cooperated, and according to the vet, there doesn't appear to be anything wrong. I'll just have to keep an eye on her for a repeat of last week's performance.
I'll be picking her up at about 6:30, and bringing Kismet in at that time for his rabies update. Plus, he's been sneezy and snotty lately — he sneezed up what looked like a banana slug the other day — so we'll have a chance to find out if he has kitteh hay fever, or if there's something else going on.
Violette Noelle, known as "Sprout," the young daughter of one of our own, passed away after a terrible and tragic accident.
She was three months old. Her funeral is today.
I cannot imagine a more horrible thing for parents to have to endure. Please keep little Violette Noelle's family in your thoughts and prayers during this most difficult of times.
Yesterday/early this morning, it was looking like Mycah was doing much better. But...
"Not so fast, Yakamoto." *
When I got up at noon today†, I noticed blood spots on the carpet in the area where she usually hangs out.
Damn.
Suspecting an ingrown claw, I lured her near with a treat (they don't call them Temptations for nothing, y'know) and picked her up for a look. But no, her paws and claws all seem to be on the up and up.
I put her down (OK, I let her get down — she hates being picked up, and wriggles and twists to get down the whole time) and she was departing my lap for the floor, she left a smear of blood on my arm. I couldn't tell exactly from where it came, but it was somewhere in the region of her backside.
Damn.
She apparently has the short-term memory of a guppy, because I was once again able to lure her near enough to pick up. She struggled rather a lot more this time, and I was unable to determine precisely where she bled from... but the fur on her butt is wet and matted.
She doesn't seem to be feeling any worse than usual; she's not acting sick, she's not weeing on the carpet. It's just these random spots of blood. Fortunately, they are limited to the small areas where she usually hangs out.
I called the vet, and the over-the-phone preliminary diagnosis is a possible urinary tract infection. I'll be taking her in tomorrow for another exam.
In the meantime, I have carpet that needs shampooing.
Damn.
* For the cultural philistines among my readership, see Monty Python's Erizabeth L sketch. Classic.
† I think I might have let it slip — oh, I dunno, maybe about a hundred times — that I work nights.
Mycah appears to be back to her usual state of health, though I think she has lost her taste for the prescription catfood. She doesn't always finish her meals... but her appetite is just fine, if her begging is anything to judge by.
It's been almost four months since Kismet and Packet have arrived, and Mycah has mellowed quite a bit as regards their intrusion into her house. She rarely vocalizes at the lads these days; all I'm hearing are brief hisses, with the very rare growl.
The lads are, of course, much interested in their fellow feline resident, and each has his own particular way of attempting to interact with her.
Packet takes a passive-aggressive approach. His tactic is simply to flop down on the floor in front of her whenever she is headed somewhere — to the litterbox, away from the litterbox, to meals, and so on. She has to go past him, and as she does so, she utters a brief hiss. Occasionally, if she passes within paw's reach of him, he'll raise a paw... and she preemptively swats him.
Kismet has a different approach to Mycah. When she is on the move he will follow a pace or two behind, reaching out a paw. Usually he paws at the remains of her tail, but sometimes he gets closer. He's not swatting at her; it's more like he's trying to tap her to get her attention.
It rarely fails. A brief hiss usually ensues. Occasionally, she'll swat back at him.
She's not amused by their attempts to get closer to her, but she is slowly succombing to them. When food is involved, she doesn't care how close they get to her. I predict that by the end of the year, she'll allow them to curl up on the floor within a foot of where she is laying.
The Modulator's Friday Ark is boarding.
This week's Carnival of the Cats is at Skittles the Huntress on Sunday.
I'm busy, due in no small part to a change in employment status. (This change, I might add, is a Good Thing.)
Mycah seems to be OK now. Her appetite isn't quite up to her usual standards, but she seems otherwise fine.
My lawn, on the other hand, is pretty much dead, despite the bits of rain we've been getting. Maybe I should go out and water it in the wee small hours every morning before I go to bed.
Mycah seems to be much better today. She ate almost all of her breakfast, and perhaps two thirds of her lunch. We'll see how she does at dinner.
[Because of my work hours, we're on a weird feeding schedule. Each cat gets half a can of stinky goodness daily, in three increments, at (roughly) noon, 6pm, and midnight. On the extremely rare* occasions when I work at the office rather than telecommute, they get half up front, and half when I get home. The lads also have bowls of dry food left out where Mycah (due to lack of jumping ability) can't get to them.]
She's using the litter box... at least, to wee in. If she's pooed today, I have no idea where. There are three litter boxes available, two of which she refuses to use. She is, more than most people, a creature of habit, that habit including an insistence on having a pristine litter box with fine-grain litter in which to do her business.
I scoop a lot.
Sorry, no new pictures today... but here's a golden oldie of my best girl kitteh, back when she still had a tail... and about four pounds more flab than she has today:
* So rare that it hasn't happened in about 18 months.
Mycah seems to be doing better today. She ate almost all of her breakfast, and she's been drinking well and using the litterbox (or, unfortunately, the floor next to it.) She seems no lazier than normal.
She likes the door-less PTU as a hangout, I think because it limits any unwanted approaches from Kismet and Packet. She's more tolerant of them, but not so much that she actually wants them within paw's reach.
Got a call from Nice Lady Vet about an hour ago; the fructosamine test was within normal bounds, so diabetes isn't the issue. She did suggest broadening Mycah's diet to include regular (non-prescription) canned food; it's possible she's just bored with the same food, day in and day out, for the last two and a half years.
I want to keep an eye on how she eats; I still get the feeling she's having difficulty getting her food down, which might, I suppose indicate a problem with her mouth, throat or stomach, but she doesn't seem to have any actual pain that she's complaining about.
We'll take any progress we can get.
Mycah is doing... not horribly bad, but not terribly well.
The lab results from Tuesday's visit came back; her blood sugar was a bit elevated, but they wanted to run another test on the sample, so I had to drop by and pony up for the additional test — a fructosamine test, whatever that is. It sure sounds like it's blood sugar related.
Mycah being diabetic, this is a concern. Her diabetes has been under control with diet alone for the past 2+ years, but perhaps she's beginning to require insulin injections.
She's moving better than she was earlier this week; she's resumed her "bunny hop" method of climbing the stairs, for instance. She doesn't appear to be limping in any way.
Her litterbox habits appear to have returned to normal, though her "output" is a bit reduced.
She's lost weight, two pounds since she was checked in April. She's still overweight at 14 pounds, but that seems to me to be too much, too fast.
She's not eating all her food at mealtimes. It looks as if she's having a hard time getting it down. I think I need to record a video and show it to the vet.
Kismet and Packet are getting pushy about the food, too. At mealtimes, I prepare the three dishes and give Mycah hers first, so she has a chance to eat — her hyperthyroidism meds are in her meals. The lads then get their meals, across the room from Mycah; they wolf their stinky goodness down, then start making eyes at Mycah's dish.
Her eating has slowed down to the point that she's not even halfway done by the time the lads finish, and I find myself standing over her to keep them away until she finishes and walks away. If the lads nose into her dish, Mycah doesn't even bother defending her food, she just walks away. She's usually a member of the clean plate club, but this past week she's been leaving food in her dish.
She spends all her time relaxing, sometimes in a PTU with the door removed, sometimes on her gizzy quilt, sometimes deep in the dark recesses of my bedroom closet.
I'm very worried about her. She's been through a lot, health-wise, and I've tried to do what's best for her all along, but at 13 she's not a youngster — I hope she has a few more good years in her.
Update, 8/10: she's not eating much at all now. I've brought food upstairs, and I put some in front of her whenever she comes out of her hidey hole, but she shows little to no interest in it. This is so uncharacteristic of her, I'm getting even more worried. I think another call to the vet tomorrow is in order.
We're back from the vet. Mycah didn't complain at all about going, and in fact purred quite a bit, which is rather unusual for her. She's usually best described as "sullen" — maybe she just liked having some time away from Kismet and Packet.
She has more of an appetite than she had yesterday, but she's moving pretty poorly. She usually has a bit of a spring in her step, and "bunny hops" her way up the stairs. Not so, yesterday and today. She's slow and deliberate going up and down the stairs.
The vet didn't see any injury that might be responsible for her slow-down, and she didn't appear to be limping, nor does she have one of her periodic ingrown claws. What we did find is that Mycah's dropped some weight, down to 14 pounds. Still too heavy, but that much weight loss in just a couple of months might be a concern, given her diabetes and hyperthyroidism. And of course we need to be concerned about her kidneys, as well as the possibility of cancer.
The vet took blood to send to the lab, and tried to get urine, but as usual, Mycah was uncooperative in that regard.
The vet did say to let Mycah eat as much as she wants, whenever and whatever she wants — including human food. I'd better not catch her making eyes at my chicken dinner tonight... but if I have to share, so be it.
Mondays. Ugh.
Most people dislike Mondays because that's when they return to their humdrum jobs.
I dislike them because Mondays are the days I do all my chores — take out the trash, vacuum the house, do laundry, and so on. I try to get groceries on Mondays, as well, but it doesn't always work out that way. So, for the rest of the day, I'll be puttering around the house.
On the whole, though, I'm glad to be able to do as much as I can. Not too long ago, of course, I was incapable of all but the easiest household task. They aren't easy for me now, but they're getting to be less difficult. I can't believe how much better I am than I ever expected, and I'm grateful for it.
Tuesday, though, I am going to try to have a little fun — I'm going to do my utmost to make a trip to the rifle range. It's been about two years since I've been able to go, and I have some much-neglected hardware that needs to be given a workout. I'm confident I can schlep my wheeled hard-shell rifle case from the parking lot into the range, and once there I ought to be able to handle the usual walking up- and down-range target placement and marking activities.
My only concerns are the temperature — the range, indoors, has fans but no A/C — and the smoothness/slickness of the concrete floor. Too smooth and/or slick, and my cane will be slipping around. That would be a Bad Thing, indeed.
I may have to postpone, though; Mycah's not being her usual self. She seemed to be a bit off her feed at breakfast time today, she hadn't used the litterbox since last night, she's not been so stand-offish with Kismet and Packet, and she's moving a bit slower than normal. I had to call her repeatedly to come down for breakfast; usually, she's there ahead of me meowing with anticipation. I need to keep an eye on her today and make sure she's just having a bad day, as opposed to actually being unwell.
She had her 13th birthday just a month ago, but that doesn't necessarily make her an elderly cat quite yet. I'm more concerned about the diabetes and, to a lesser degree, her hyperthyroidism. Kidneys are a cat's weak spot, I think, so I really need to keep an eye on her potty behaviour. I hope the old girl has a few more years left in her. Kismet and Packet need to be swatted from time to time, and she's just the girl to do it.
Coincidentally, she has a vet appointment for tomorrow for her 6-month checkup. We'll see what the vet says.
Mycah's Potty Update: She used the litterbox while I was off doing my chores. She didn't just whiz, she whi-i-i-izzed. No poo yet, though. And she refused to come downstairs for her evening feeding. Not good.
More video of the lads.
They wrestle a lot, almost always as an effort by each to groom the other.
Maybe that's why Kismet grooms my head at night when I'm in bed — I don't fight back.
An award — this makes it two Fridays in a row. Clearly, we need to start being nicer to more people more often.
From Skittles the Huntress:
Aww... 't'weren't nuthin'.
Friday. Ark. Be there.
You've got to love the Bad Kitty Cats Festival of Chaos, this week at Mind of Mog.
Carnival of the Cats will be hosted this week by Samantha Black & Mr. Tigger.
Yesterday I went to do my grocery shopping. As usual, when leaving the house, I had to go out the front door and open the garage from the outside, because when I go directly out to the garage through the door that opens off the kitchen, Kismet and Packet race each other to go out to the garage, and I'm just not quick enough to get out and close the door before they get out.
When they get out into the garage, it then takes me ten minutes to wrangle them back into the house, before I can then open the garage door, start the truck, and leave. I don't often have that much time to burn.
I ultimately got home and opened the door into the kitchen. As usual, the lads had heard the garage door opener, and were waiting in the kitchen for me to open the door. I did, and they zipped out into the garage, as usual. And as usual, I wondered what the attraction was.
Just a couple of minutes later, while I was putting away the groceries, Kismet came in and showed me what was so interesting in the garage: he'd caught and dispatched a lizard. Fortunately, I'd left my camera downstairs.
At the beginning, you can see he's "on point" — I couldn't see what he was looking at, but I think it was either Mycah or Packet checking out his acquisition.
The ex-lizard had already bought the farm — kicked the bucket, shuffled off this mortal coil, rung down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible — but Kismet wanted to play more with his new toy.
It seems like he doesn't quite know what to do with it.
Me, I just wanted to get the little corpse away from him before he could take it upstairs and deposit it in my bed.
Eventually I distracted him (thank you, keychain laser) and was able to give the late lamented lizard a quick watery funeral.
Mycah is the queen huntress around these parts, but she clearly has some competition.
Kismet excels at catching flying bugs; the ground-dwelling variety, as well, have good reason to fear his attentions.
I don't know that he ate the cricket. I heard no crunching, and I haven't found any remains — but I haven't heard any chirping, either.
Well, whattya know... we've received an award from our dear friend Moki. Be sure to read all the latest news on Moki's medical matters, which are very similar to what I've had to deal with.
And I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd hit the orange "donate" button there and do a little something to help with the vet bills.
"This award was created to be given to bloggers who inspire others with their creativity and their talents, also for contributing to the blogging world in whatever medium." *
They say that when you receive this award it is considered a special honor. It sure feels like it.
There are, of course, rules for passing this honor on, which are as follows:
I'll work on my list.
If it's Friday (and you know it is!) it's time to board The Modulator's Friday Ark.
Bad Kitty Cats Festival of Chaos is at Pet’s Garden Blog.
The Carnival of the Cats is at CatSynth with Amar and Luna on Sunday.
I'm convinced Kismet would be an amazingly effective hunter, were he allowed out of the house. His feather-on-a-string chasing skills are the stuff of legend.
Here we see him keeping his eye on one of the few (so far) winged bugs that has made it into the house this summer:
He later caught it mid-air in a flying leap off my recliner. Quite amazing — I wish I'd captured the moment. Then he ate it. Thoroughly disgusting.
At least he didn't leave a mess for me to clean up.
Board the Friday Ark at The Modulator.
Bad Kitty Cats Festival of Chaos is hosted by Sama