Not such a tame world....

On the Ninth Day of Christmas....

My true love brought to me....

Sam & Merlot - My fur boys

They are unconditional love in the best warm & fuzzy packages.

Merlot

This is Merlot & Brie's baby picture. Merlot has the light face & darker ears. Brie is looking at my shoulder.

Here's Merlot now. He's considered a Champagne Point Tonkinese.

 

Merlot is my soul kitty. He connects with me at a level that has us able to read each other's mind. This February he and his sister, Brie, will be 5 years old. Michael & I half-way joke that love per dollar, this was the best money ever spent on a pair of cats. And I love Brie, but she's much more partial to Michael & Tabitha. When they aren't around, then I'll do. But with Merlot, I am his person & he is my cat. He follows me around the house; talking all the while a-lot a la Tonkinese style. When he first started doing his stealth "flying attacks" where he leaps 4-5 feet up off the floor onto people, he started with me first. Very rarely will he pounce on Michael. I know I'm loved and adored by this cat when he jumps into my lap, turns around to settle, then kneads my arm before he goes deeply to sleep. For him to sleep on me is the ultimate in feline trust. He's also a kisser, and just like the late Molly, he has the roughest sand-paper tongue!

 "We humans are indeed fortunate if we happen to be chosen to be owned by a cat." Robert A. Heinlein

 

Sam

 

I fell in love with him from this photo in an email forwarded to me by my Mom, titled "Free Puppies". One look at the photo & I was over the moon. I thought about it for a long week, and then May 19th, 2009 in the span of a three hours called the owner, confirmed he was still available, cleared my choice with Michael, got Tab from school and she & I drove two hours away to go get him. When we brought him home, he was about 7 weeks old and weighed 10 pounds. Now he's 9 months and weighs in at 64 pounds. I always wanted a big dog growing up and now I finally have him. And Sam was completely worth the wait.

I named him Samuel Jasper. Sam for short -- which just happens to be my Mom's initials. In a way, I get to give her credit for connecting us. And then the Jasper is after the character in the Twilight books because  just like the character, being around Sam makes you feel good. It's just a bit ironic that with time as he grew that Sam's eyes changed from blue to gold, just like the Jasper in the books.

Sam is young, but he is a Momma's Boy to the nth degree. The joy he exudes every morning when I meet him in the kitchen is overwhelming. I adore how he presses his entire side into my legs & knees and then stands on my foot, so that I have to stay and give him pets. His tongue is so warm with soft gentle puppy kisses and his fur is so soft. Of late he's taken to wrapping his entire mouth around my wrist or arm and "gumming" on me -- that's his way of giving me hugs. I love walking through the garage door to the kitchen and being greeted by my "fan club". We've nicknamed him the "Pup-arazzi" for how he'll howl & bark waiting for me to come through the door. He recognizes the sound of the Jeep driving by, so he knows when I'm home before anyone else, and I love that. It turns out that he and Merlot are buddies and they will hang out together, but they're camera shy. And turns out that Sam loves kids and especially babies. He was in that photo a few days ago of Mr. X, whom Sam adores. He is unbelievably patient & gentle with them. For such a large dog he amazes me with his gentleness. Keeping this real, he's also the most destructive dog I've ever known. He's a chewer. I have a running list of the things he's destroyed and one day it will make a very funny scrapbook layout. In the meantime, you know I really deeply love him, because even when it's my stuff destroyed -- I don't get mad. I just shrug it off and move on....

We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults.  Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment.  ~George Eliot

So somedays, when it feels like the world is stacked against me, I snuggle these two and know that I am very much loved.

It's difficult to understand why people don't realize that pets are gifts to mankind.

Linda Blair

So I've Been Looking Thru Photos....

And this is my favorite one of Tucker & Pixel together. Tucker is on the left, Pixel on the right:

Sweet isn't it? It amazes me how people can think that animals don't have feelings & personalities.... Anyway, I thought that I'd do a "Photo Review" post, with some of the favorite pics I've taken thus far this year. According to PSE7 I'm up to 4603 photos sine 1/1/09. So I'll spare you looking at all of them & try to be somewhat selective....

Books

I'm reveling in the feeling of being rich in books. I finally chose how I wanted to spend my birthday gift card to Amazon.com. [Thanks Mom & Pop!] I splurged & indulged my inner fashionista, francophile & scrapbooker. The Candace Bushnell book was a steal I found at the local 1/2 Price Books. Literally 4 days earlier I had picked it up at Barnes & Nobles, read thru the first 5 pages, and put it down because it was $25. I've started using my phone's camera to snap pics of "things I want to remember", including books I want to read. So while I was waiting to sell back some books at HPB, I roamed the aisles and found this novel for $9! WaHoo!! I've also been loving the local library this Summer. I just finished reading The Duggars: 20 and Counting and Multiple Blessings. I enjoyed both greatly, but I'm glad I just borrowed them. Altho, the Duggar book has some seriously good sounding recipes.... On my nightstand right now is Style Statement, and I enjoy reading a few pages & then going to sleep to dream of fashion and shoes and fabrics, Oh My!

Summer Fun at "The Lake"

Here's Sam, ready for action & dripping from his first dip in the water. He loved it. So much so, that after nearly destroying the cats' Drinkwell, and his own water bowl, by pawing all the water out; that I went to multiple stores one Saturday night just to get him a $10 toddler wading pool. He shows all the signs of being a serious water dog.

Zoe? Not so much. She has become a real little prissy "Ms. Diva Doggy". She'll get her feet wet, but full submersion -- HoRroRs!

I love this photo because it shows how much Sam has grown in comparison to Zoe. He's 4 months & she's almost 1 yr in this pic.

In no time at all, he discovered that he could use the life-jacket to drag Zoe where he wanted her to go. [I am easily amused!]

And then, photo proof that I did get both the dogs out on the jetskis:

And on that note, we're loading the dogs up now & headed out to the lake for a bit more Summer Lake Fun!

 

Tucker Was a Good Fellow....

He joined our family in May 2001, quite literally when he broke into our house.

We were living in Corpus and our area suffered from an overwhelming number of stray pets. Some due to general over-population & some due to the turn-over of military families that couldn't take their pets with them on new assignments. We always suspected that Tucker fell into that category.

He arrived on our back porch in late March 2001. Claimed a plastic chair in the back yard & every day without fail he showed up. Michael is a softie [Truly one of the reasons I love him!] and in no time at all, Tucker had him trained to feed him outside every day. At the time we called him "T.C." -- short for "That Cat!" We already had six and I was insistent that we didn't need another one. But Michael maintained that any creature showed up at his door hungry -- then he would feed it. There was no denying that T.C. was hungry as he was skin & bones. Fairly scrawny, but sweetly affectionate.

So we co-existed in a detente. Michael fed him. T.C. hung out on the porch. The other cats stared at him thru the back door, and I resolutely refused to take him in.

Then one weekend in late April, as Michael made his way thru the sliding glass door to go feed T.C. - well T.C. decided to check us out. So he jumped right over Michael's foot, charged into the living room & quickly made the rounds of all the other cats. They all sniffed at him, but no one hissed or growled. It was as if they were saying "Yeah Dude! This is the place. They feed us good & the living is easy!" All the while, I was shrieking at Michael to get That Cat out of the house -- which he did.

Then one Saturday morning in May, T.C. showed up on our back porch bleeding profusely from his back paw. Michael saw that, hollered thru the house that he was grabbing the cat & a carrier & taking him to the vet -- in my car. When I had 30 minutes to get to an ER shift. I was. not. amused.

Michael handled all the arrangements at the vets, and our "free" kitty ended up costing $700+. Turns out that he had a deep puncture wound of a toe on his back foot. Could have been a bite mark, or could have been from landing on a rusty nail. Ultimately he ended up having that toe amputated, and three different antibiotics started. As Michael was on his way out of town for a week long conference, I heard "Oh -- By-the-way, the vet says you can pick him up Monday afternoon. I told them you'd be there before they close at 6pm." Argggggggg! But I wasn't mean-hearted enough to leave him there. So I went and got him. And this is what he looked like then, a whole scrawny 7 pounds of cat:

He was incredibly sweet, and as if he knew it was me he had to win over, he would go out of his way to head butt my hand or leg, and to purr amazingly loudly whenever I was around.

I was headed out of town 3 days later to meet Michael, so because of all the medications being a bit much for our 12 year old neighbor to manage -- he got boarded at the vets. That turned out to be extremely lucky for him, as while we were away, he went went into septic shock and needed IV fluids & lots of extra care -- hence to $700+.

We came home to find out what had happened and decided to let him convalesce at home while we tried to find him another home. One of my fellow residents wanted a second cat to keep hers company, so we tried that. Didn't last two weeks. T.C. apparently decided he wanted to be with us, so he allowed the other cat to harass him endlessly. And the harrassment escalated to the point that he was returned to us. At that point, I felt that I was out of options. That Cat wanted to stay with us -- then Fine! He could stay with us.

So then Michael & I searched for a different name. Seriously. That's when you know you're stuck with a critter -- about the same time you name it. So we started out with Cooper because he had sad Gary Cooper eyes. Well. He never really responded to that. Hoover would have also worked, but we never tried that one. Instead, when Michael & I visited NYC, I overheard this group of women on the subway talking about their pets and one was a poodle named "Tucker". For whatever reason, it stuck in my mind & I liked it. When we got home & tried it with him, he responded right away. Over the years we called him "Friar Tuck", "Fat Boy", "Lump of Love", "Big Boy", "Jabba" and so on.

I very clearly remember taking him in to see our vet, and Dr. V. fighting to keep a straight face as I lamented about how Pixel was so skinny & failing to thrive. That was when Dr. V. pointed out that Pixel was just fine, but Tucker was "aerodynamically challenged". With a sudden flash of horror, I realized that I was no different than the moms I saw in clinic with their huge obese kids. I suddenly realized that I had a "Gordito Gato"! In the span of about a year, Tucker went from a severely underweight 7 pounds to a rubanesque 15 pounds. At his most he weighed 23.5 pounds. The boy seriously loved his food. We thought that the Iams, etc that we fed them was good food but in hindsight we now know that it was nothing but "Twinkies, Ho-Ho's, and Cheetos" in the world of feline nutrition. It didn't help that having been a stray for 1+ years, he was convinced that he was on the verge of starvation, so that any time one of us walked by the food bowl, he would howl until we refilled it -- even if it wasn't empty. And it was such a heartbreaking howl too. So Michael & I would fill the bowl multiple times a day & not realize that the other one had done so.

In the past few years, our current vet encouraged us that he really needed to lose weight, so about 2 years ago we started Tucker on the "Cat-kins Diet". It's extremely high grade protein & designed for diabetic cats, so there's not much carbs. Well, he loved it -- and so did the rest of the crew. So they all got to eat "the good stuff". And the weight was starting to come off.

About 2 months ago though, he went thru a spell of not eating for about 4-5 days. Shortly after I noticed he felt lighter & when I weighed him, I discovered that he was down to 17.5 pounds. Then a few weeks later, we noticed that he had peed on the carpet & "sugar ants" were everywhere. Suddenly, that was when it clicked for me that he had probably developed diabetes. At this point, since we estimated that he was 10+ years old, Michael & I put a priority on quality of life vs. quantity of life. So as long as he wanted to eat & be petted, that's what counted.

In the past two weeks, we noticed that he wasn't moving much, and he'd taken to hiding behind furniture in our bedroom. So Michael & I knew that our time with Tucker was on a count-down of sorts. I had a vet appointment scheduled for him this coming Wednesday morning, but apparently that wasn't on his agenda.

At 5:45pm this evening, I walked by him in our bedroom. I notice from the corner of my eye that he was very still & his eyes looked glassy. When I touched him, he was cold & stiff, and I knew that he'd gone to that great rainbow in the sky.

I am sad that he died alone, without any of his people with him. I hope that the other cats at least kept him company & he found some solace in that. While I am sad, and I will miss Tucker, I am mostly relieved that his suffering is done. He's the first cat out of many, who has actually died as home. To quote Tab "Daddy doesn't do dead things well!" So I called the vet and they waited for me to get Tucker there so that arrangements could be made for him to be cremated & returned to us. In spite of the fact that Tucker never liked Tab (nor children in general), and always threatened to rip her limb-from-limb, she wanted to go to the vet with me. While we were there, Dr. S. came up front to check on us, and he agreed that clinically Tucker probably had diabetes with subsequent renal failure and that really as far as comfort care goes -- there wasn't much we could have done.

So tonight finds us a family of three with two dogs and three cats -- truly, the lowest our numbers have been in many years. I worry now about Pixel. She's 13 and after her litter-mate, Molly, died last year, Pixel began showing her age. Now her buddy & fellow tabby-cat has died and that leaves her at the mercy of the Tonkinese Terrorists.... In my gut, I have a feeling that it may not be long until we have 2 dogs & 2 cats....

At any rate, Tucker was a good fellow. Those who knew him, liked him for his placid calm & good nature. He had the loudest purr of any cat I've known, and he always purred the loudest in front of a full food bowl....

Tucker

Adopted May 2001 -- Died August 3, 2009

I'm feelin' some lens love....

Of course, with a new puppy & a new camera lens, I have bunches of photos. Here's some highlights of Sam & Zoe. Sam is the tan dog & Zoe is the black dog. Warning: Viewing may induce either episodes of Acute Puppy-Fever or overwhelming nausea....

Zoe doesn't feel like she's "up & at' em" until she's soaked in dew from running laps in the backyard every morning.

 

This was Sam checking out his new backyard. Who knows, he may become a "rock climbing" dog too.

  

This is what I call his "Look Ma! I'm all the way over here! By myself!"

 

Obviously the sibling bonding is taking place....

 

And Mom, those cow hooves are really a hit!! I love that Zoe's got a little paw action going on.

 

 

And just because we don't expect that Zoe will tower over Sam for very long: [Enjoy it while you can Zo-Zo!]

 

They decided that Zoe's crate is a good play spot.

 

And this is what I call Sam's "Play with me or I'll bite the Bunny" look:

 

And then for some token feline-ness, here's some shots of Brie. Merlot still wasn't talking to me, and the others haven't come out from cover yet. Look at those catch-lights! And I'm totally loving how I can fuzz out the depth-of-field.

 

In case you were wondering....

Here's the real reason I fight a losing battle to keep my office picked-up:

 

The "Tonka Terrorists" at work. You should see what they do to my desk....

So he really does spoil me....

My birthday present arrived via Amazon.com a week early. But the best part, is that with a new puppy in the house, Michael's not making me wait until next week to play with my new toy:

 

Yup. Look & drool.... Heavens knows I have for awhile. This lens covers 18mm to 270mm and has image stabilization/vibration control. It's not tremendously fast, and the reviews out there knock it for "slow" auto-focus. But really, compared to what I'm currently using -- the reviewers "slow" is pretty quick for me. I was surprised by how much heavier it is, but it does have a lot of glass -- so the weight makes sense.

The beauty of this lens is that I can cover a huge amount of distance without having to switch lenses. I have a 18-55mm and a 27-300mm. At the climbing competitions, it has been driving me crazy trying to swap between lenses, while Tab climbs like a speed-monkey, AnD doing that while avoiding all the chalk that floats in the air.

So now, allow me to demonstrate some of the cool-ness with a few quick shots of Mr. Merlot: [These images are all straight from the camera - no editing & my color balance is off due to the compact fluorescent lights in my office.]

Here's 18mm: [Ignore the mess on my work-table. Review books arrived and general scrap-clutter is taking over....sigh....]

 

Here's 55mm:

 

And that used to be "all she wrote" for my standard lens. I'd have to rapidly "stop, drop, & switch". Now I just have to twist my wrist & I get this at 270mm:

 

Nice Huh!?! Yeah. I'm stoked. The puppies & I are going to play "photo shoot" in the backyard.

Gone to the dogs -- and cats....

So my MIL is a huge fan of the flip camera after just one video posting. I got more practice uploading my first videos, so here's a few more videos for your viewing enjoyment. [And if you happen to be someplace that blocks video downloads, then I'm sorry for the boring content for today's post....]

Keep an eye open for a jealous Merlot skulking around while Zoe is getting attention.

"And then there were four...."

Cats that is.

Seven hours ago, we had to put Tessa to sleep.

As much as I feel surprised, I don't. I was peripherally aware that this week she was having a hard time eating, and she was vomiting on a daily basis. Not really that unusual for her this past few years. Every few months she'd have a spell like thisand then bounce back. We attributed it to a belly mass that was found in 2004. She was 10 years old then and our household policy is that once the furries reach double-digits no extraordinary or invasive measures are required. So when she'd have one of these spells I had injectable nausea medication to give her, and she'd bounce back.

Only, today at about 1pm, it was blatantly obvious that she wasn't bouncing back, but she was rapidly declining. She couldn't balance to walk. She'd fall over and her paws would all stiffen. She wanted in the window to soak up the sunshine and after I put her there she fell off the window sill. Eventually, she reached the point that she wanted to just be held. So about 2:30 I called Michael to let him know that Tessa wasn't well. Then I called the vet to see if we could get worked in. Shortly after that the seizures started....

As best as I can tell, her belly mass was bigger. With not eating well this week, 5 days of vomiting, and yesterday & today not much oral intake at all, I think she was in full-blown renal failure & was uremic. She certainly had changes in her mental status and seemed like some of the extremely elderly patients I had taken care of with similar situations.

At 14 years 2 months, Tessa claims the title for the longest living being whom I've been directly responsible for, besides myself.

And so this is Tessa's story....

She came into my life at the sprightly age of 12 weeks old, directly because of Michael. She was the first Christmas present he ever gave me, the first year we were dating. I had moved into my own apartment over that Summer and was terribly lonesome because I had had to leave the family dogs back home with the family. So it was the first time I had been without any furries. Michael's cat, Milo, had convinced me that cats could be cool and for the first time ever, this stalwart dog person considered taking on my own cat. Within a few weeks, Michael & I were found at the pet store that our future brother-in-law worked at. They had gotten in a collection of kittens & Michael was excited for me to go pick one out. After a great deal of consideration, my choices had been narrowed down to two. The first was a pretty looking black & white cat who purred like a freight train every time that I held her. The second was a solid grey boy who was feisty & wanted to play with everything when I picked him up -- he was a wiggler. So I went back & forth multiple times, but eventually the black & white kitten's huge purr won me over & she was my choice. She also had a splotch of black across her chin that made her look like she'd been drinking chocolate milk. I didn't take her home that night because BIL was going to make sure she had her medicals done, and that she'd been freshly bathed & groomed. Michael then went whole hog-wild stocking me up with everything kitten that I'd need to care for her.

Within the week, BIL got his part done and we met at Michael's grandmother's home for me to get her & bring her home. She was in one of those cardboard carriers & she wanted nothing to do with that. So much so that she figured out how to escape and settled in my lap for the car ride home. That first weekend actually found us staying with my parents in my old room because I went home on the weekends to work my pharmacy technician job. She recoiled some about the barking dogs, but she wasn't particularly upset. The dogs were tremendously interested in the new smells from my room, but the weekend flew by and then she & I headed to our home at our apartment.

This was Tessa & I when she was 14 weeks old.

Her name Tessa was short for "La Contessa Tessalon Perle". She carried herself with a very regal tone, so she needed a title of some type. And at the time I was working my way through college as a pharmacy tech. The two pills that I thought were the prettiest were Chloral hydrate and Tessalon Perles. Even though the chloral hydrate ones were a deep green, translucent capsule, it just didn't seem like the right kind of name. The tessalon perles were a lovely translucent golden yellow sphere and added into her name, it just sort of rolled together fluidly. So Tessa it was. In residency, one of my fellow residents was named Tessa and I had to bite my tongue often to not keep telling her that my cat was named the same.... Tessa the resident always seemed miffed that she shared a name with a cat -- but really she was a dog person....

I sometimes really missed those days when it was just her & I. That first winter she would sleep under the covers with me. At least until 2 am, when she'd get up & play with her beloved "snowball" toy. It was a white rabbit fur covered ball with jingle bells that hung from an elastic cord mounted high above her head. She could make quite the racket and wake me up. With just a little bit of training, I learned to put the snowball to bed, before we went to bed.

She was a delight & joy and helped me look forward to going home to the apartment instead of feeling so lonely. She was my shadow when I was home, although the semester that I took CVA [Comparative Vertebrate Anatomy] and had to dissect a cat, she would give me a wide berth until I'd showered off the "dead cat" smells. She slept on my textbooks while I studied and most definitely absorbed more organic chemistry than I ever did. I only had a 5 inch TV that we'd watch E.R. on every Thursday night and she'd sit with me watching every bit of activity. When I ate a bowl of after-dinner-mint ice cream from Braums, I had to sit on the kitchen counter to keep her out of my bowl. And she adored buttered spaghetti that she stole off my dinner plate. Otherwise, with Tessa, unless it came from a container clearly labeled "for Cats" she'd turn her nose up at it. She particularly liked sleeping on my sweatshirts & she could make a nest out of them very easily.

She was the cat who I held & danced around the apartment with on March 5, 1995, minutes after I finished my congratulatory phone call from the Dean of Admissions at the medical school I would later graduate from. She merely meowed when I told her that her mom would finally get to be a doctor. She was the cat I held in my brand new long white coat for pictures on my first day of internship. And she was the cat who snuggled with me in my office every chance she had when I was in there.

Five months later she & I moved to a new apartment closer to the medical school. This one was on the second floor with a fabulously thick tree just outside the bedroom window. She could finally bird watch to her heart's delight. She was just shy of her first birthday & still had a mischievous streak. Because I was gone for such long periods of time every day, she got good at making her own entertainment. She kept track of where I stored a jumbo pack of rubber bands and one night I returned home to find 5000 rubber bands strewn from one end of the apartment to the other. And the bag was still intact except for one small inch-wide hole at the bottom. She had painstakingly pulled out each rubber band & flung it around the apartment until she decided that she needed a new one. After that, we got a beta fish so she could have "cat TV" while I was gone. She became quite the naturalist between the birds & the fish.

About a year later we moved in with Michael & Milo. Tessa never did like Milo. At least for her part, she decided that they were sworn enemies. I think it went back to when we had tried to introduce them when she was only 14 weeks old and weighed 4 pounds and Milo was this gigantic, orange, 15 pound Maine Coon who pounced on her because he wanted to play. She was so not amused, and I guess never really got over that experience. So for years she merely tolerated him and she would self-limit her space to usually be my office, or one certain window or table, just to avoid him and any other cats she didn't approve of. Turns out that Tessa was very biased about who she would associate with. She only approved of other animals who were black, or white, or grey, or some combination there of. Two cats we had were her close buddies when we lived in Corpus, but they died in rapid succession just before we move back to North Texas. I think she was as heart-broken as I was at losing them. She also was fond of my brother's dogs when they came to visit. Kona is the white American Eskimo & Mia was the black mixed breed. When they would stay with us, penned in the kitchen, we'd routinely find Tessa hanging out on the counter visiting with them. Even when every other cat in the house had taken to hiding under our bed. So that kind of gives credit to the idea that animals have personalities & quirks too, just like us.

Milo & Tessa:

During medical school, someone attempted to break into the house we were living in. That was the one & only time that Michael has ever paged me with "911" in the phone number. By the time I arrived all the cats were accounted for and many hours later I noticed that Tessa seemed to be keeping her left eye closed & couldn't open it. When I went to touch her face, blood was on my fingers as she pulled back. She had multiple cuts that were hidden by the darkness of the black fur on her face. Minutes later Michael, Tessa, & I were headed to the emergency vets. She had the cuts on her face, but the worst injury was a shard of glass that had gotten lodged in her eye. The e-vet gave us medication & eye drops to use and the next day our regular vet got us an appointment with a veterinary ophthalmologist. For the next few weeks it was touch & go. Dr. Munger was hopeful that we could save the eye, but maybe not the vision. So she & I made the trip to North Dallas 2-3 times a week and finally she started to heal. Her vision was never the same, but after a couple of years to adapt, she started to make jumps more confidently and she'd hang out on windowsills again. Long story short, based on the BB pellets I found across the room and fragments of window glass with BB holes, we suspected that the kid next door to us saw Tessa lounging on the windowsill in my study & he decided to use her for target practice and she got caught in the shattering glass. Then to cover up the BB holes in the window, he smashed it with a golf club, messed up stuff on my desk & tossed the golf club in our back yard. Other than circumstantial evidence I wasn't ever able to prove what happened, but a few weeks later I came across him standing in his yard pointing at my windows with a pellet gun. At that point I got Michael's shotgun & pointed it at the kid until he backed down & went away. I never did seem him back there again. Lesson learned and a cat scarred for life....

Tessa lived in six different home with us. Moved a total of seven times. Was an intrepid car traveler. Loved & lost three companions and two others who weren't favorites in the past 5 years. And this past August she surprised us all by celebrating her 14th birthday -- unfortunately we curled her whiskers from the heat of the candles on her cupcake. For the past two years she's been my steady room mate in my office. It's the one room that I could easily close her off from the others so that they wouldn't harass her. And I got very used to our evening routine. I'd come in after Tab got to bed & Tessa would hang out either on my desk or in my lap as I checked e-mail, surfed the web & played with my photos. At 14 years old, the equivalent of being a 98 year old human, I should have realized better that this wouldn't last forever. I just wasn't expecting how lonely it would feel in here without her. The other cats don't want to come in right now, and I can't bring myself to start cleaning up all of her things & her fur-drifts off of the floor. Maybe tomorrow, but not right now.

 

She was stubborn and more than a little hard-headed.

She shed a lot. Year round.

She had a tendency to pee when & where she felt like it, hence the lovely stained concrete floor in my office.

She & I adored each other and she will forever be my "first cat"....

Tessa, "La Contessa Tessalon Perle" 

August 23, 1994 to November 7, 2008

It's official....

We have completely gone to the dogs.

Introducing our newest family member:

Zoe

She’s an eight-week-old Miniature Australian Shepherd that we brought home tonight. She is “technically” Tabitha’s dog. Although all of us are going to be getting in on the act and helping train her. We’re working to crate train her first, then move on to obedience, and then I’d really like to move on to teaching her agility & maybe compete.

I realize this seems a bit out of the blue, but I’ve been muttering about wanting a dog since April. Michael & I both had dogs growing up & the cats were more about fitting in with our crazy schedules. During my recent hospitalization, Doug came to stay with me & brought one of his puppies along. Tab was put on “puppy detail” and was responsible for caring for Gizmo. This we did, mostly as a distraction for Tab to keep her busy while I was gone. Problem was, we discovered by week’s end that she really is, deep down, a “dog person.” The cats are great, but Tab truly wanted the slavish adoration of “her own dog”. So after seeing this, could you refuse to get the girl a puppy? Yeah, me neither. It didn't help that she cried for an hour after he left....

The past two weeks have found Michael & me researching breeds and trying to find breeders with puppies available. Me personally, I’d love a Great Dane, but for Tab’s size we needed something lots smaller. My folks have a full-sized Aussie and he’s fabulous. Casey is slowing down at 11+ years old, but sweet tempered, smart, and loyal. So when we found a breeder an hour away who had Miniature Aussies, that got Michael & I seriously thinking about the possibilities.

So Michael talked more with the breeder & she had one girl puppy left who sounded just perfect. She e-mailed him photos, which he sent to me. And the rest is history. Really, Michael & I know a thing or two about falling in love with just a photo to look at (i.e. Tabitha). Turns out that later that same evening he showed the pics to Tabs & she was in love too. Over the course of a week she went from saying, “When are we going to visit the breeder to see *the* dog?” to “When are we going to go look at *my* dog?” At that point I sort of realized we were in trouble if this didn’t work out....

Last Friday Tabs came home from school positively riled up about naming the dog. So we sat & talked so that she could learn our family rules about naming pets:

1. No repeat names. So no more Molly’s; No more Casey’s, etc.

2. No names after any people we’re close to. So no dogs named “Mom” or “Dad” or “Emma” or “Derek”

3. Dogs answer better if there is an /e/ sound at the end of their name.

4. And the name needs to suit the animal’s personality.

So at the end of that list of rules Tab had her own list written down. The only contenders were Daisy and Zoe. Zoe just grabbed my attention and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Of course a key consideration was that this name made use of all those left-over “Z” stickers I have laying around. I didn’t consider that before I named Tabs, Tabitha; so I constantly run out of “T’s”....[This falls into the category of “You know you’re a scrap booker when....”]

Right now Zoe is an itty bitty black cotton ball on legs, but the brain is already sharp. She’s learned her name in about 3 hours today and we’ve also made a bit of progress at “Zoe. Come.” So this gives me something to work on next week.

The cats have had a mixed reaction. Pixel was all ears (Ohmigod!?! Did you hear that?!?! It sounds like a Dawg!!!), and has decided she’s not ever touching the floors again. She’ll be living at counter height, thank-you-very-much.

Tucker has already had a “Ginsu-claws” moment & Zoe now has a healthy respect for him & especially avoiding him. Tessa was indifferent yet mildly intrigued as Zoe is a black & white critter and that has been the only color combination Tessa has tolerated, ever. So over time, Zoe may get to hang out with Tessa & I in my office at home. Merlot was nary to be seen. And Brie. Well she’s just one P.O.d cat. As evidenced by this shot I got of the ever-elusive “bottle brush tail”.

Physically this is the strongest sign of stress & annoyance that cats can muster up. Still, nothing about Brie’s body language says she’s happy about the situation.... So time will tell.

I think that if Merlot can get over the shock & can figure out the inter-species communications, they’ll end up having fun playing with each other.

In the meantime, I have more blog fodder to gain from the situation.

And Saturday I’m scrapbooking with one of my BFFs, so more to follow, later this weekend.

Thoughts & Prayers for all our friends & loved ones along the Texas coast. I’ve called to check on a few & they’re sheltering in place, which would have me terrified were I there. It’ll be a long weekend for sure....

So give the girl a paintbrush....

And she's liable to paint with it....

Actually, last Monday (5/19) the main a/c unit for the central "living" section of the house died. Technically, it wasn't the unit. Just the computer circuit board that tells the blower to cycle on & off. So much for a quiet week at home full of scrapbooking goodness, etc. By Wednesday, I reached the point that I was Fed Up, with just about everything. The the 1940's shade of "Battleship Grey" that my home office had been painted, courtesy of prior homeowners, was just tripping my personal circuit board. So by Wednesday I decided to paint. Off to Lowe's go Tab & I. The paint-gal handed me the gallon cans and asked:

"So is this your favorite shade of  green ?" "Sure. I guess so." "Just wondering since it's the same color as your purse."

Sure enough. Tabs & I looked, saw the resemblance and laughed all the way to the car.

 

 

[This is me being very happy with my new green wall....]

 

 

 

Thursday to today found me scaling the 8 foot ladder too many times to count. The room got painted by Saturday evening when all the girls for Tabs party showed up. Miss H. and I bailed and headed to Lowe's for more paint as I'd decided that now I wanted to paint the ceiling.

So this morning I got to the point where I could take down all the tape and this is what I have:

12 foot ceilings, with a huge wall of built-in book cases & shelves -- Yeah, I know. I'm spoiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At night with the flash, the color looses something, but the walls are a "spring green" and the ceiling is a "pale aqua". Between the two, there's enough punch that the cream crown molding is now visible. The true paint names are "Herb Cornucopia" and "Mystic Sea". As usual, I've renamed them "Kitty-Kat Green Eyes" and "Brie Brie Blue Eyes" since in general most of my decorating choices somehow tie into the cats that populate the household. At least that's what they think.

So about 40 minutes before all the in-laws show up for Michael's & my & my BIL's combined birthday, I realize that I am on a roll, have the energy, enthusiasm, & the knees still work. So I decided to just cut a bit of carpet to see what's underneath. The reason why....

Well, Tessa has lived in my study for about a year now, so that she can be an "only cat". As she nears 14 years old, there are some privileges for being the senior cat. Although mostly it was a form of self-defense since she had taken to peeing all over certain areas of carpet in the rest of the house. Naturally, she continued this behavior once she was confined to my study. Fortunately, after gross anatomy in medical school and sinus surgery, my sense of smell is nearly non-existent. So really, until the house was staying uncomfortably warm, all of the time, I wasn't really picking up how the smell was. But the pee stains were ruining the carpet. We've had them professionally cleaned & that was no help. So for a while now, I've been toying with the idea of putting down hardwood. Of course, that still leaves me with an indiscriminately peeing cat, and the high probability that I'd have to replace said wood floor down the road. So after talking with Ms. K a bit, I started to see the potential for stained concrete floors. They can be sealed. And most appealingly, they're about as close to cat-proof as I can get.

So about 40 minutes before family appears, I cut into the carpet and find this....

Hallelujah!!!! No GLUE!!! Just tacking strips....

So in very short order, [about 3 hours really] the carpet is gone. The carpet pad is gone, and 95% of the tacking strips are gone. As in stacked at the curb waiting for trash pick up tomorrow. When I get serious about something, I get serious! And the ammonia smell of cat pee is 100% absent!

So tonight, Tessa is sleeping on my desk. Completely gob-smacked. Interestingly enough, when there's no more carpet -- she pees in the litter box! Guess she's a little worried now that if I would get rid of the carpet, what will I do next?.... And the room looks like this:

I figure that over the course of the next month we'll find a contractor to polish the concrete & stain it a deep dark mahogany brown. And between my happy green walls, my aqua sky, and my cat proof floor, I will be one happy girl indeed!