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.

The Audacity

I went to a conference for the last four days.  This was not a big hit with Glenwood; Timmy has the maturity to cope.  Sherri took care of them, but was treated to a redecorating most every visit.  The above shows what one maybe-seven-pound kitten can do to a tidy couch if determined.

When I came home there were pillow relocations like those above and even more dramatic alterations:  a wall shelf was crooked on the wall and its display items dispersed (most are still MIA).  Red-onion peels were scattered around, and the onion itself lodged under the fridge.  (She was playing hockey with garlic cloves last week.)

Back to (ab)normal.

Here's the Story

Glenwood is always right there when I get home.  She puts her little furry face right up to the door as I open it so I have to go in shouting No!  Get back!  Don't you dare!  and blocking the way with whatever I'm carrying.  Then I apologize for coming in so violently.  Timmy, meanwhile, sits on the table by the door and thinks about trying to run out, but never summons himself to act.  We all have a little love fest then off to the kitchen for dinner.  That's normal.

On Thursday, Timmy was at his post but no Glenwood.  When I shut the door behind me, I heard a plaintive meow from the coat closet.  I didn't see her shoot in there in the morning (I'm usually so careful!), but shoot in she did.  Twelve hours later she emerged, totally nonplussed and ready for food.  My coat closet, however, was trashed:

She'd pulled all the scarves off the hooks on the door, mauled a bagful of clothes headed for the Salvation Army, toppled the stack of kitty carriers and extra litter box, and moved the six-foot ladder (evidently so she could climb to the shelf and toss some gloves over the edge).  And while it was quite a scene, she didn't pee, and for that I am eternally grateful.

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There was a hilarious moment chez Glenwood Thursday night, but I can't download the photo until early next week so the story must wait.  This bit of wrestling will have to suffice.  Look how big she's getting!  It's length mostly, not bulk.  She's still about a third of Timmy's weight, very lean.

But not mean!  Glenwood seems to be calming in her old age - 10 months (roughly) as of April 1.  She still chases Timmy like a lunatic, but there's much less hissing and much more play.  She's also become my shadow.  Like Riley, she follows me around and is with me all the time.