Copyright 2009-2013 Liz Sweibel

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Magical Thinking

A couple of days ago I looked at Glenwood and thought, hmmm, she hasn't gone into heat again.  What a fool I am.  Hours later, I noticed the kind of turbo affection and heard the vocalizations that could only mean one thing.  She grooms from head to tail, hoping for the big date.  She flirts.  She stalks.  She sleeps.


Monday, July 25, 2011

Kitties on Ice

When I lived in the loft it would get excruciatingly hot and I would give Timmy and Riley ice-cube rubdowns.  They loved them.  So with this even more brutal heat, Timmy was thrilled, but Glenwood not so much.  Hard to imagine that a kitty who has survived what she has is afraid of an ice cube, but she shrank from it.  But I know this little girl, and I kept at it.  Now she is an ice-cube slut.  Here she is lounging after a full-body rubdown.

Cooled Off
While I was a tad worried about leaving them, I could hardly turn down an invitation to Fire Island for an overnight.  So I placed fans strategically, arranged for kitty care, dug the goo out of Glenwood's ear (she is more productive in this heat) and put in her ear wash, and hit the road.  (It was cooler on Fire Island, but still pretty hot.)  Now that I'm back, Glenwood is making it very clear that I cannot pick up my bag to go anywhere ever again.  She has a huge case of the cutes.  And the weather seems to have broken a bit.

Welcome Home

Monday, July 18, 2011

Stratgies for Keeping Cool

The Closet Works ...
... So Does Stretching Full-Out on My Desk
(See How Fur Grows from Her Paws?)

Monday, July 11, 2011

Hot Hot Hot

It's been quite a toasty summer so far, and Timmy and Glenwood are slow-moving.  Actually, Timmy is not moving at all.  He is parked in the middle of the foyer, and I just have to operate around his sizeable mass.

Timmy in July in Brooklyn
I got a voice message from Dr. Ryan last night, and it sounds like Glenwood's surgery could be this fall.  I'm doing twice-daily ear-digging lately, as the heat is making her extra-productive.  She purrs through it; I sit on her.  After the surgery, I'm going to have to sandblast this apartment to remove all traces of her head-shaking.  I just found some ear goo on a drawing, and that is about the limit of what I can tolerate.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Distance Makes the Heart Grow ...

I had the good fortune (or audacity, depending on perspective) to go on vacation for two weeks, with Sherri sending daily reports on Glenwood's and Timmy's status.  It was, admittedly, a long time to be away.  When I walked in the door, Timmy promptly adhered himself to me (and remains pretty much a part of my leg) but Glenwood wasn't quite sure and ran away.  It took her half an hour or so to remember me, and then she took the other leg.  I decided not to be wounded by her memory lapse.  By the next morning, all was back to normal.  (Yes, Timmy appears to have put on one or two.)

Timmy Resting After My Vacation
Glenwood Back to Normal
On the medical front, Sherri couldn't catch Glenwood for ear excavation, so I got another kind of earful from her upon my return.