Persistent Pseudomonas

Glenwood's recheck did not go as smoothly as we wished; the infection is still there and seems stuck deep in her ear.  Dr. Ryan took her off meds and cleanings for a week to let the ear do its own thing, then she'll do a culture.  Since Baytril, the drug Glenwood was on, is a strong, broad-spectrum antibiotic, Dr. Ryan needs to know more about the cause to figure out what's next.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Glenwood wakens at 4.11 am and brings the whole house with her:  jumping on my bookshelf with family pictures (Get down!), on my mother's leaning bamboo bookshelf with a box of wooden spoons from a flea market and a framed Matisse postcard (Get down!), and on another bookshelf I've protectively decorated with wooden plates that she uses as frisbees (Get down!).  There's more, but you get the idea.  I feed her and Timmy to quiet her, then they bathe, then Glenwood has even more energy.  Somehow, I get a little more sleep between it all and wake-up time.

The thick heat has finally lifted though, so it is impossible to be cranky with this gorgeous, gorgeous day.  Thanks for checking in, and I'll post again soon.

Cool Cats

It was so hot and humid today that I worried for Glenwood, as she's been open-mouth panting.  That's not a good sign for cats, but Glenwood's fragility makes her more prone to it.  She's going back to Dr. Ryan Saturday to follow up on the ear infection, which I continue to treat.  I'm getting quite good with the Q-tips and digging out four pounds of goo twice daily.  Because I had my hands all over her for weeks while she was living in the bathroom, she allows me great liberties.

I went to Governor's Island for the first time today for an artist residency info session (wonderful) and left the air conditioner on for the cats.  (I don't use it much for me, but for them ... anything.)  Here they are luxuriating in the coolness, Glenwood on her chair and Timmy by his pillow.

Happy Birthday, Glenwood.

Today is Glenwood's first birthday and she's making old-man noises.  I just gave her some flax seed oil (she hates it) so she's glaring at me.  Since her birthday is somewhat random it's a little weird, and hard to believe.  She's been with me and Timmy since October 1.  Well, she's been with me since then; she didn't join Timmy until the Bathroom Release Fete on December 7.  Amazing.

She's So onto Me

I'm convinced Glenwood knows when the syringes, Q-tips, and cotton balls are coming out the nanosecond I think "time for meds."  No physical activity on my part is necessary.  She hides behind the DVD player, the tightest spot in the house.  The bird toy usually lures her out, but I can't find it.

I'm likewise convinced that both cats know I'm coming home as soon as I board the subway.

Glenwood continues to trust me to pet her silly while chatting to her, which is a point of nervousness when I'm just as likely to drip stuff in her ears.  But since she obviously has the timing down for the meds, she must know when it's safe to approach.

She is starting to try and take the art off the walls at 5.30 am, which is problematic.  She's also jumping on shelves I thought she'd never jump on, which means a lot of small glass objects have to be put away for awhile.  Timmy continues to lumber around when she's not chasing him, and is very affectionate with me, and I with him.

Deep Goo

Glenwood's re-check yesterday showed the infection is improved but not resolved.  So we've got ten more days of meds to go.  It seems it's settled in the turn of the ear canal, where it meets ... uh-oh.  I'm out of my league.  Whatever the turn meets, it means lots of massaging on my part to coax the meds down there.

There's two ear meds.  One to cleanse and the other to treat, 20 minutes later.  After her ear-cleansing med and rub, it's good if she shakes her head (and not hard to get her to do).  This morning, the shake sent ear goo flying.  Is it gross or what to clean kitten ear goo from a wall?  Anything for my little Glenwood.

The oral med is easy, once I catch her.  She is so onto me.

Limitation and Creativity

When I was in my first year at MassArt, the core courses had pretty strict assignments, which I sometimes wasn't too happy about.  (Art and Fear is the book to read on this one.)  Seventeen years later (can it be?), my studio is in my apartment and not the kind of big raw space I've always had and could beat up.  Between those two things and a zillion others, I've learned that limitation can be freeing.  (Andrea Zittel speaks of this very nicely in her Art:21 segment.)  Most recently, Glenwood occasionally occupies a section of my keyboard, and I wonder if writing without any of those keys might have me produce something really, really brilliant.

She is feeling better, which is great (except at 4 am) since her birthday is approaching and there is going to be a celebration.  It's June 21, I've decided.

See how her fur comes out between her toes?  I love that.  She is due for a mani-pedi, which Sherri kindly provides.  Just the noise the nailclipper makes turns my stomach, which is weird considering how much of her goo I had my hands in for her first several weeks with me.

Better Already

Glenwood is already down to near-zero old-man episodes, and her energy level has returned.  The former is fabulous, the latter not without its perils.  Her new wake-up time (thus, mine) is between 4.00 and 5.00 in the morning, and that has accumulated into enough sleep deprivation for me to be challenged to form sentences in the classroom.  I actually called in sick today at my other job because I was too exhausted to function.  But enough about me.  Here they are in a changing-places routine:  queen then king of the hill.

Pseudomonas Redux

Glenwood's visit to the vet yesterday revealed a new Pseudomonas infection in her left ear.  This is the same type of nasty infection that she came with.  Dr. Ryan was, as always, fabulous and thorough, and it's just that much more clear that Glenwood will always be delicate, despite all day-to-day evidence to the contrary.  So we've upped her supplements and started ear and oral meds.  It's a much smaller version of Still Life wtih Meds than in October-November, but a little sad to return to.

It was very, very hot and humid in Brooklyn yesterday, so by the time we got home from Hope Vet, Glenwood and I were stressed and gross.  I remember that Riley and Timmy always liked a good ice-cube rub when we lived in the loft, and so Glenwood got her first and loved it.  Here she is all rubbed down and relaxing, then staring in disbelief at the ice cubes floating in her water dish.

On another note, Sherri kept us company yesterday.  While Sherri's company is always welcome, my ulterior motive was to introduce her to Dr. Ryan so she will bring George and Sushi in for check-ups.  I think we got a little closer now that Sherri has first-hand experience with Dr. Ryan.  Here's big fat whiny George being tortured by Sherri, who was supposed to be studying.

And

Since I wrote earlier. Glenwood has found her tweety bird, has stopped her old-man sounds, and is back in full-attention mode.  (The flax oil seems to help but she hates it, and, worse, me with it.)  The tweeting is nonstop!  Still, I'm having Dr. Ryan take a look.

A Little Worried

Glenwood's old-man syndrome is worse, and I wonder whether the sudden heat and humidity are causing her to have a little trouble breathing.  It sounds sort of asthmatic, and sometimes makes her unable to eat until it passes.  I left a message at Hope Vet to make an appointment for Sunday.  It's unnerving, and a little more so since June 8, 2009, was Riley's diagnosis with congestive heart failure.  Anniversaries are brutal, and seem a bit thematic between this blog and my artist blog.

Glenwood Needs a Birthday

By Dr. Ryan's best estimates and Glenwood's teeth at the time, she was about four months old when I found her October 1.  That means her birthday is in June.  While June 1 is the obvious choice, maybe June 21 would be nice for her ....  Not sure, but if anyone wants to weigh in, please do ...

Glenwood seems healthy.  The raspy breathing is all but gone, unless she's snoring.  She does make the horrible noises old men make when they're choking, however.  It's startling to hear from this little body, and seems to be related to eating.  I wonder whether some food goes down the wrong pipe (my mother's technical language) and she's trying to exhale it.  She clearly does not like to throw up, unlike most cats, and I attribute that to her delicate feminine nature.

At almost a year old, Glenwood is the sweetest, funniest, softest, most personable kitten.  She's usually passed out between my keyboard and monitor, blocking access to certain keys.  That's between bouts of chasing the cursor, which has my screen covered with pawprints.  Never a dull moment.

A Priority Expenditure

I was in Target, where emerging with the strangest assortment of items is the norm (mascara, eggs, and a chair, for example), resisting 928 impulse purchases, when I saw this cat toy.  I could've resisted this too, except that it sings.  I liked walking through the store with a singing basket.

It's a huge hit with Glenwood.  One night she was flying across the doorway of the kitchen, every time she'd throw it up and down the hall to recapture.  She was airborne, so no way I'll be getting a focused picture.  (And it's a good thing the singing is sweet, because it's constant.  I put the bird in a drawer when I go to sleep.)

Timmy's not interested.  He's too grown up for such antics.  And, according to his previous mother (in a comment to my last post), the fridge is a re-habit, not a new habit.

She's Jewish!

Everyone knows a Jewish mother has Jewish offspring, but who knew it extended to a rescue kitten (especially one with the WASP-y name of Glenwood)?  But she is!  The bagel theft gave her away. The plastic bag it was in had a long tail, and she kept stepping on it as she ran from me, making for a bizarre chase.

Meanwhile, Timmy has taken to perching on top of the fridge, a new trick, and one I'd like to stop.  Yeah, right.

Cat and Mouse

She's quite the worker bee.  (I take unbelievable joy in this mousepad.)

Nighttime Antics

The evidence from last night's festivities suggests there was a hockey game, with the garlic serving as a puck.

And Back at the Ranch

So here's Timmy, just hanging out (literally) on my Van Gogh chair, when who should come along to disturb his peaceful contemplation of the floor but ... you guessed it ... Glenwood.

Paw-to-paw play-combat ensued.

For the Others

Walking to the subway along Flatbush Avenue early this morning, when I usually have my eyes down, I looked up to see a box in the doorway of a bank, and in the box was a cat.  It startled me.  The cat was sitting calmly and looked healthy, and the box was a nice box, so it seemed the cat had been cared for but abandoned.  This is how a perfectly good day collapses for me.  I stopped and looked at the cat, and it looked at me.  I had to go; my students were making presentations and I could not be late.  I walked away, then went back and looked again, considering the logistics if I were to scoop the cat.  I just couldn't; I left; I felt horrible and hypocritical waiting for the subway, and the day stayed like that.  Where are our loyalties?

On the way home, I debated whether to avoid the cat-spot or look, and decided to look (or I'd face more regret).  Cat and box were gone, and all I can do is hope that the cat is safe.

The Welcoming Committee

This is how I'm greeted as I exit the shower.  Of course, I do all my post-shower stuff so as not to disturb them (I ran to get the camera before they budged) no matter what kind of gymnastics are involved on my part.

A Healthy Senior (I Mean Timmy)

Timmy's results came from Dr. Ryan today, and he is perfect!  Svelte, functioning on the inside, and showing evidence of a wry sense of humor in his advancing years.  And his and Glenwood's raucous behavior (well, Glenwood's) has become almost exclusively playful and not hissful, though she just jumped onto his back from the desk while he lay in post-prandial splendor on his floor pillow.  That brought a little scuffle, now resolved.

The warm feeling I get when I'm on my way home and remember that I will see these two is wonderful.  I love home and could spend pretty much all the time here.  Having the fur things to care for (and be cared for by) makes it an even better place.  And with my emotions running high lately, they are soothing presences.

The Glenwood Diet

April is Senior Pet Wellness Month at Hope Vet so I schlepped Timmy in there today for a check-up.  Once in the exam room, the vet tech weighed him and was so surprised at the drop in weight that he got a different scale!  But the result was the same, as shown in the graph below, courtesy of Dr. Ryan.

While a big drop in kitty weight can be cause for concern (diabetes, etc.), Dr. Ryan didn't come close to panicking because she knew exactly how Timmy dropped the pounds:  running from Glenwood.  Yes, he occasionally chases her, but not enough to slim down so dramatically.  He looks svelte and wonderful, with no major tartar on his teeth and all else looking and sounding good.  His tests will be back in a week, so I'll post then (if not before).  I'd post a photo of him post-vet but he's had enough for today without me pointing a camera at him.

Glenwood is doing great (now that I'm back from the conference), except for some furball that's having her make these hacking noises (thankfully less horrifying than the barking she did while in heat).  Dr. Ryan suggested some flax oil.  Update to come.