tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8080286827389228932024-03-14T00:50:08.517-07:00Cat Tales BlogFunny cats, fat cats, black cats, orange cats, tom cats and kittens -- online felines galore! Cat stories, cat facts, cat health information and other feline related topics to entertain and inform. A hot spot for cat lovers of all stripes.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-27620794441679682142011-10-29T15:27:00.000-07:002011-10-29T15:30:27.296-07:00Listen to this<a href="http://traffic.libsyn.com/sethharwood/GreatClass.mp3">You can download or listen to this.</a>Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-39665212383752957982010-02-16T22:33:00.000-08:002010-02-16T22:38:31.716-08:00<a href="http://tppc.tv/blog2/"&rt;<img src="http://www.tppc.tv/blog2/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/cat-pic1a.jpg"&rt;</img></a>Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-75473063488163463442009-05-21T15:02:00.000-07:002009-05-21T15:12:49.909-07:00Remembering CarltonFunny how a black cat could be considered a diabolic form. As an incubus, that feline monster was believed to perch on its victim’s chest and suck the breath away. For me, a black cat was more angelic. If I saved his life, Carlton may have saved mine. At least his presence got me over some rough spots. So companionable, though he might have looked like a black panther, he acted more like a black Labrador. And when he perched on my chest, I certainly never felt depleted. No matter where I’d be during the day, he knew he could always find his buddy at shower time for the evening ritual (knowing the love for rituals) which was for me to lie down so he could mount my chest and get rubbed under his chin. It never felt like my soul was being depleted. On the contrary, it gave me a little boost, or at least forced me to relax.<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXRRmbXI_I/AAAAAAAAASU/XKvxWDWcQkQ/s1600-h/Copy+of+Birds+small.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXRRmbXI_I/AAAAAAAAASU/XKvxWDWcQkQ/s320/Copy+of+Birds+small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338403033620882418" /></a>The bond with critters cuts across a lot of lines. Imagine the hunter lamenting a favorite hound, his blues for ol’ Blue. Imagine the prospector’s blues for his mule. Shorty Harris, who dug up the Bullfrog Mine, memorialized life with a lone burro when he wrote his epitaph: “Here lies a single blanket jackass prospector.” Writers too are renowned for feline friends. Hemingway’s cats have even inherited his Cuban estate and are now protected as park animals. Ray Bradbury’s Ditsie is a female version of the little short-haired guy who hung out beside my desk, Carlton Lord Spoilworthy.<br />When he turned sick, threatened by renal failure, we began to value him more each day. That was easy since he was such a good little guy. No, he wasn’t perfect. He had his moments, such as some unauthorized pissing. But that was only protest for attention. How can you condemn that? And after a while he learned that just looking as if he might do it was enough. He really didn’t want to piss on my slippers, but how else can the master get the acolyte’s attention. <br /> Now when I realize that it’s safe to put books on the lowest shelf without fear of a urine attack, the advantage doesn’t seem worth it. I’ve even removed the plastic panel from the bottom shelf which shielded the big books, but that’s no big deal since Lord Spoilworthy isn’t around.<br /> At a pet hospital in Sherman Oaks where Jane and I even tried an acupuncturist (that’s right, a feline acupuncturist) I check out the folks porting their ailing pets into the facility and consider the care and loot (30 billion bucks this year) spent in that regard. Seems as though folks outside of western culture have difficulty understanding why. Maybe the understanding they lack, besides an inability to sympathize with other people or animals not from their tribe, is the thing Americans really maintain in keeping pets. Loyalty. It seems pet owners pay a lot for loyalty. Perhaps it’s something lacking inside, and so it’s subordinated to the creatures who are most sure of delivering that same commodity—loyalty.<br /> I would add a special kind of wisdom.<br /> It was surely a momentary freak-out for Dak, a Tech Assistant at Veterinary Specialty Group in San Diego, when we brought Carlton in for an endoscopy. Dak was praising Carlton’s laid back demeanor, and I had him sputtering for a response when I confessed (tongue visibly inserted in cheek) that I believed Carlton to be an incarnation of the Buddha. Considering the odd raft of weird believers in Lululand, what did Dak know? I could have been part of a cult of cat worshipers from Malibu. Yet Dak smiled. Didn’t he— as well as most personnel who handled Carlton— didn’t they believe that he was the mellowest cat they’d met? And Carlton did indeed show a Buddha-like acceptance to all the scraping and probing those doctors performed on him.<br /> At a cancer clinic in Culver City one young woman who worked there brought in a colleague to show her how Carlton was lounging on the scale where she’d left him after weighing. It was clear they hadn’t seen much of that. More likely they were used to dealing with fractious (their preferred word) screaming felines that required peeling off the walls. I couldn’t make out what they were saying while they giggled and whispered, but I knew it to be some form of admiration. That’s where the title of Lord Spoilworthy stuck. And there he was, Carlton Lord Spoilworthy lounging regally on the curved bed of the scale and looking like an Egyptian pharaoh sailing on his barque down the Nile.<br /> Dr. Iburg, his regular vet, was surprised at one visit when Carlton gave out a little cry. It was so unlike him to complain at all. We were all puzzled until it turned out that she was unwittingly pressing his tail which hung over the edge of the table, and we all chuckled. Here we thought he was acting like a cat, but in actuality he had something to complain about. And even then, it was a soft complaint. <br /> And then the time when he put his paw on the assistant’s arm— “little bubbala,” she called him as she cradled him on the exam table at the West LA Vet Clinic... It was a last ditch effort to determine what was wrong. (A test for a rare disease, which of course was to no avail.) As she was cradling and petting little bubbala lying serenely on the exam table, he looked up at her and put his paw softly on the arm stroking him. It visibly took her breath away.<br /> At the first indication of weakened kidneys, his lordship’s diet had to be altered, and he hated such bland plebeian fare. Couldn’t understand why we were cutting him off from his favorite protein-rich food and treats. So he began to prowl the perimeter of the house, scanning all possible exits. He knew he couldn’t trust anybody, not even the food folks who used to give him anything he wanted. But soon his transcendent acceptance kicked in and he made the most of it. <br /> A good example was his acceptance of a formerly hated guest. At best, he ruled that guests are only mildly tolerable. Sometimes it’s acceptable to allow one to touch you, being somewhat partial to strokes. But when the guests leave, there is such a racing through rooms, bounding up stairs, toys dragged out, the only conclusion to this swelter of activity is that of ecstatic relief. Sadly, that’s why the outside world, except for a few care givers, never got to see his charm. <br /> Yet, he could temper his principles too. He tolerated a person whom previously he’d most distrusted. Despite the anti-guest feeling, he learned to accept Robert Green-Price— but it took two visits. On the first, when Carlton was new in the house, and more defensive, he hissed and pissed at Robert. On the second visit, he bypassed his own amigo to jump up on Robert’s lap. Granted, Green-Price was sitting on my chair where Carlton was used to receiving his strokes. But nevertheless, though a former arch-enemy, Lord Spoilworthy was quite content to sit there for the longest time, much to Sir Robert’s surprise, if not consternation.<br /> That acceptance really showed up in technicolor when Christy once started coming to the house. Christy was the hydration lady, who three times a week administered fluid under the skin (subcutaneous injections for renal disease). The first few times, Carlton would make a half-hearted run for it the minute she entered, often diving under the bed. After a few visits, Christy arrived in the afternoon for the usual. She just stepped inside. She had a story to tell. She always had a story to tell. Listening, I looked past her into the living room and noticed that Carlton was hopping up on his rocking chair where the fluid was to be administered. He sat there, watching, waiting to get it over.<br /> Games became a way of life, as with most cats. Our games were certainly of his devising: Whirly Cat, which evolved into Rolly Cat, then to Trolly Cat. No person short of a circus trainer can get a cat to act out a game— if he doesn’t think of it. In fact, that was a general Carlton rule: “If I didn’t think of it, I don’t do it.” If it hasn’t already been drawn, a good cartoon could be made of a cat singing “My Way.” <br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXQI2bq0zI/AAAAAAAAASM/6nOsO_fXycY/s1600-h/carlton+whirlycat+small.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXQI2bq0zI/AAAAAAAAASM/6nOsO_fXycY/s320/carlton+whirlycat+small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338401783786689330" /></a>Whirly Cat started before we invited him into the house. In Whirly Cat he would rush up to me in the driveway and flop on his back so that I could rub his belly and whirl him around. That bit evolved into Rolly Cat, which was to roll him from side to side as he pretended to bite my hand. In the bedroom Rolly Cat morphed into Trolly cat, which utilized his bird toy strung on the end of a stick like a fishing pole; I would troll with the bird over the side of the bed until he suddenly leaped out from underneath like a catfish going for bait. <br /> Pretty standard cat stuff, yes, but there were others. <br /> Carlton was the cat’s meow, and he exercised a chorus of voices when he used that versatile meow. Part Siamese, his vocal range went from a soft sound, almost a lip smack, up to a banshee wail. Yet, though he could sound that multitude of voices— a regular carillon when he got going— Carlton rarely used them. Outside, when I first knew him, he only greeted with the faintest mew. I first noted his mime ability when I’d heard what sounded like a baby crying. I’d actually heard it a few times before, wondering who were the parents to leave a baby squall like that, until I witnessed the actual source: Carlton standing off a feline interloper.<br /> That’s the banshee wail he turned on me when we first brought him into the house. And he would do it, standing at the patio door, only when Jane was gone. He knew I was the softie. So he gave it to me full bore. Though I never gave in and let him out, it was a gut-wrenching aria. Downright operatic, a cat flexing his vocal cords for a desired result. <br /> While involved in some of those games I’d be reminded of Pascal who confessed that sometimes when he was playing with his cat he wasn’t sure the cat wasn’t playing with him. Carlton’s Clawing-The-Chair game was a good one for playing with my head. <br /> Carlton had been de-clawed by his former owner next door, and then let out at night. We took him in because his face had been ripped open and then he had been locked out of the house to keep him from bleeding on the carpet. It’s a wonder the coyote, or whatever it was that tore up Carlton’s face, didn’t finish him. And the reason he had his front claws chopped was because he allegedly ripped up their furniture. So the game Carlton invented in our house was pretending to claw a fabric chair in the living room, a little psychodrama wherein he goes through the motions. It even sounded like he was clawing the chair, paws grating against the material, a sound like ripping. (It sounded so realistic when I first heard it I did a double-take.) He clawed the chair with out-stretched paws while holding his most defiant expression. Then all of a sudden he would get the guilty look of a bad kitty and break out running. Everyone knows a bad kitty must be chased.<br /> Mistreated? What can a philosopher do but make a game of it?<br />Everyone’s pet is exceptional, yeah. Maybe Carlton was no different from others, but when he showed signs of understanding verbal remarks, I had to pay attention. Name recognition, of course. But besides recognizing his own name, there were certain other words. When we first brought him in, tacit agreements had to be made to keep the little guy happy. One was that apertures in the house would always be available so that he could sniff the great outdoors. <br /> So the words “door” and “window” were muy importante. But what about “other door?” <br /> I happened to change my mind one day just as I was opening the balcony door for him in the guest bedroom. Carlton was at the door, waiting, ready to put his head to the screen door. Then I decided to open instead the door in the master bedroom since I’d be there soon. I remarked aloud, (talking to myself, really) “No, let’s go to the other door,” as I re-closed the one being opened.<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXRjZWz7NI/AAAAAAAAASc/0IpRtfr6DcI/s1600-h/Copy+of+Carl+on+countersmall.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXRjZWz7NI/AAAAAAAAASc/0IpRtfr6DcI/s400/Copy+of+Carl+on+countersmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338403339349781714" /></a>Carlton immediately turned and headed for the landing. Unconsciously, I followed. It wasn’t till I followed him through the hall, across the master bedroom, and then to the balcony door. Just beginning to open it, I looked down and realized he had come to the “other door” without any other cue but those two words. So if he understood other door, what else did he understand? <br /> Just another instance of what made it special, living and communicating across those mysterious lines with such a good and soulful bro, a little thirteen-pounder who could fill a house.<br /><br />Joe CozzoCheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-62049713234452343532009-05-21T14:19:00.000-07:002009-05-21T14:55:21.854-07:00Carlton, Lord Spoilworthy - letter from beyond<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXNr-JskuI/AAAAAAAAASE/sOzCYTnRSOc/s1600-h/Copy+of+Carlton+%26+squirrel+small.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXNr-JskuI/AAAAAAAAASE/sOzCYTnRSOc/s400/Copy+of+Carlton+%26+squirrel+small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338399088619328226" /></a><br /><br /><br /> Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Carlton, Lord Spoilworthy and I am speaking to you from beyond that mortal coil. I departed your veil of tears---and joy---at home on January 14, 2009, at the age of 17, with my staff Mr. and Mrs. Cozzo (or Joe and Jane, as they insisted I so casually address them) at my side. Also present were my attending physician and her nurse, who facilitated my physical demise because I was so weak from systemic illnesses (renal disease and small-cell lymphoma, amongst others). Until the end, I remained a handsome fellow indeed. I must confess that everyone I encountered during my entire life made this observation. (I enclose a portraiture of myself, to ensure that I not be accused of undue vanity.) <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXHy56h1gI/AAAAAAAAARc/6N6M_8OWrWs/s1600-h/Copy+of+Carl+on+countersmall.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXHy56h1gI/AAAAAAAAARc/6N6M_8OWrWs/s320/Copy+of+Carl+on+countersmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338392610671285762" /></a><br /><br /> My staff continue to pray for the immortality of my soul, and I wish to convey to them that their prayers most certainly should be answered. I shall be eternally grateful to them for saving me from a most probable premature death. You see, I had been in the “care” of a man (a next-door neighbour of the Cozzos) whose concern and regard for me were negligible at best. Because of my benign temperament, I fatalistically accepted his treatment of me, including his locking me out of the house because the blood from the wounds of an attack were getting on his carpet.<br /><br /> It was at this juncture (December of 2001) that the Cozzos intervened and took me to hospital. My erstwhile “caregiver” retrieved me, but in January of 2002, I finally made the decision to leave this insensitive man and give myself over to the care of my staff, as I knew they loved me and would most certainly provide better care and support.<br /><br /> The initial adjustment of living with them was, I fear to relate, somewhat stressful, but through no fault of theirs. Their predecessor’s wife had had my front claws removed years prior because I was sharpening them on her chintz sofa. To add insult to injury (pun intended), this procedure was performed before I could completely do in that monstrosity. That couple continued to let me roam free, defenceless, in a neighborhood populated by coyotes. Of course, I did not realise the imminent danger when I was on my roamabouts, and quite naively enjoyed them.<br /><br /> Thus the difficulty adjusting to “house arrest.” During the approximately six weeks accustomising myself to this limitation, I used every verbal tactic available to me to convince my staff that I was frustrated by the change in life style.<br /><br /> I attempted to convey this sentiment on countless occasions, primarily through my extremely wide voice range, which spanned octaves. I used a deep baritone for a repeated “raaaaa---unh,” several times a day. On other occasions, when Jane was not present, I used my most desperate-sounding baby cry to work on Joe, but that proved to be of no avail.<br /><br /> Over the years, when I observed feline male trespassers on my property, I would let out the most blood-curdling, gutterally extended cry that it caused great alarm to anyone within earshot.<br /><br /> After I realised that my indoor life had its own rewards, which more than compensated for the absence of outdoor walkabouts, I used a very high soprano to convey contentment, almost a silent “meah.” <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXNE3W6RbI/AAAAAAAAAR8/O7dLg9kpSBE/s1600-h/Jane+tom+C-front.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 148px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/ShXNE3W6RbI/AAAAAAAAAR8/O7dLg9kpSBE/s200/Jane+tom+C-front.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338398416780805554" /></a><br /><br /> I soon realised my staff were unconditionally devoted to me, and did their very best to satisfy all my desires, first and foremost, constant attention. Fancy Feast food, in all the flavours I favoured, in addition to crunchies, were provided at all hours of the day and night. I even was provided with a water fountain, and later two: upstairs and downstairs. In my final years, upon awakening every morning, I only had to gaze expectantly at one of my staff and I immediately was brought breakfast in bed.<br /><br /> Play sessions, including rather bizarre ones, were always granted if I indicated an interest. My most favourite, as I grew older and tired of mousy-mousy and kill the ball, was what my staff called tom-toming: having my bum “spanked.” For quite a while, they remained clueless regarding the sexual satisfaction this provided. Finally, it dawned on them, thank God. I hasten to add that I nevertheless had been castrated in my childhood. Perhaps that accounted for my ability to sing counter-tenor in addition to baritone, but I digress.<br /><br /> My staff also allowed me to occupy, my places on the bed, in addition to providing me a down cushion on which I could make a little “nest,” and even a heated cushion on a rocking chair, which helped my arthritis.<br /><br /> I also greatly enjoyed the cushions in front of the fireplace where they made a fire every evening in the cooler months. I became quite adept at conveying to them when I wanted a fire---even during the daytime, especially on cold days. And all year round, even in the winter months, windows and doors were opened for me, day and night, so I could enjoy through the screens the fresh air and all the exotic scents known only to my kind.<br /><br /> My staff even provided me with my own home entertainment center: a bird feeder right in front of my favourite window, where I could see those tantalising creatures just inches away. They knew I was there, and yet continued to eat. I believe they actually knew that in spite of the danger I posed, I could not harm them, even though I occasionally would instinctively bat at them. Cheeky bastards!<br /><br /> My staff also knew when I wanted to go to the toilet. I used my voice range and distinct language to convey this need. I wanted one of them, (and preferably both of them) to accompany me to what they called “the urination ceremony.” You see, I was extremely fastidious and having them there to dispose of the waste kept my toilet clean, especially as I had a tendency to defecate and urinate in succession. Of course, when they happened to not be at home, I had to make do without their service, which was a mild source of vexation.<br /><br /> During the course of the years my staff served me they never left me alone for more than hours. They even took separate vacations because they could not bear the idea of my being incarcerated in a cage at a boarding facility. Even during these times, I missed the one who was not present, but at least one of them was with me. The one who was away always rang up every day to be sure I was in fine form. Needless to say, this was a source of great comfort and assurance.<br /><br /> Most unfortunately, in 2005 I was diagnosed with chronic renal failure, a progressive disease very common to my kind. My staff were devastated by this diagnosis and spared no expense to obtain the best medical care possible, including specialists, an acupuncturist, the requisite pharmaceuticals, and regular treatments (sub-cutaneous fluids), subsequently administered at home by a technician.<br /><br /> So committed were they to extending my life, that they consulted a nephrologist at one of the world’s top renal transplant facilities. In the course of tests to determine my suitability for this procedure, they discovered that I had incipient small-cell lymphoma, for which I was initially treated at that facility.<br /><br /> However, this diagnosis ultimately led to on-going treatment at a renowned oncology clinic. Even though the trips to the clinic were stressful, I stoically accepted them, as I knew that my staff were trying to do the best they could for me and would never knowingly do me harm.<br /><br /> As often occurs, the chemotherapy diminished my appetite and I started to lose weight. My staff, ever concerned for my well-being, then sought a third opinion, which led to a greatly reduced oral regimen, albeit with stressful, although---thankfully--- infrequent, trips from Los Angeles to San Diego, where the attending oncologist and gastro-enterologist practiced. My philosophical stoicism served me well during these times. Positive developments were that my renal disease seemed to be more or less stabilised by on-going treatments, and the small-cell lymphoma stayed in remission.<br /><br /> Until shortly before my demise, the quality of my life was as good as possible by human standards. I had the unmitigated devotion of my staff who always did what they thought best for me. Even when I gradually stopped eating, and had to endure my staff’s syringe feeding me (in my primary physician’s hope that it would effect weight gain and stimulate my appetite) I still found pleasure in certain habits and rituals, resulting in my purring until just a few days before the end.<br /><br /> I am greatly moved by, and appreciative of, my staff’s unmitigated gratitude for having had the privilege of living with me and so intimately knowing me. I also am aware of how much they are devastated by my physical demise, of how much they love me, of how much they miss my presence, and of how much an integral part of their lives I always will be.<br /> <br /> I thank you for taking the time to read this missive, and I remain<br /><br />Yours faithfully,<br /><br /><br />Carlton,<br />Lord SpoilworthyCheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-79400980615168548062009-04-06T21:16:00.000-07:002009-04-06T21:45:01.060-07:00Even Cats are Twittering?Seems like everyone and everything is all a-Twitter! In case you don't know, Twitter is a booming social networking and micro-blogging service. It helps people stay connected in real-time just by answering one simple question: What are you doing? In 140 characters or less.<br /><br />Even cats don't want to be left behind. They're tweeting too! An engineer who has two cats created a cat door for them to keep the food-stealing neighbor cats out. His own cats are fitted with an RFID chip on their collar. When they come near the door, the door senses the cat is authorized and unlocks the flap. Well, that's nothing new. But here's the twist--<br /><br />Each time a cat comes in or goes out, a camera above the door takes a snapshot of the cat and tweets a message via the cat's own Twitter account. <br /><br />Okay Mittens, you have 140 meows! Go!Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-19933901169754180772009-03-30T09:36:00.000-07:002009-03-30T10:11:24.259-07:00Smitten by Mittens<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD7MNdrPtI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/k_FqoO_85qE/s1600-h/mittens+closeup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD7MNdrPtI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/k_FqoO_85qE/s400/mittens+closeup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319027347115687634" /></a><br /><br /> Itty Bitty Mitty!<br /><br />One big change in my life is that instead of taking care of one cat—Mittens, the half-Siamese—I now have three!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Adopting a Senior Kitty</span><br /><br />First, let me tell you that I finally officially adopted Mittens. Yes, she's no longer a temp cat! She's got a permanent role—a starring one, mind you!—in my life. I'm thrilled. I can tell she is, too. She's fast asleep. <br /><br />My friend Pixie, who used to be Mittens' guardian, told me that she no longer wanted to keep Mittens. And that if I returned Mittens to her, she'd just look for another home for her. <br /><br />Of the three cats Pixie had, Mittens was always her least favorite. <br /><br />Part of the reason, I suppose, is that Mittens used to belong to Pixie's ex-boyfriend's young daughter. The daughter went to live with her mom (the parents are divorced), who didn't want a cat. So she left Mittens with her dad, who was living with Pixie at the time. When Pixie broke up with him, he abandoned Mittens. (He himself simply disappeared, who knows where.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD76T3n0ZI/AAAAAAAAARU/gqzDfRy1SZc/s1600-h/half+buried+mitt.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD76T3n0ZI/AAAAAAAAARU/gqzDfRy1SZc/s200/half+buried+mitt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319028139109110162" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD76X2A9KI/AAAAAAAAARM/7qbMTucihu8/s1600-h/mitt+pushaway.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD76X2A9KI/AAAAAAAAARM/7qbMTucihu8/s200/mitt+pushaway.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319028140176110754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD75y2vRuI/AAAAAAAAARE/Qgv49_9z3_U/s1600-h/Mitt+in+cat+bed.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SdD75y2vRuI/AAAAAAAAARE/Qgv49_9z3_U/s200/Mitt+in+cat+bed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319028130247034594" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Mittens’ Hard Luck Tale</span><br /><br />I can certainly understand if Pixie doesn't have the best memories associated with Mittens. Under the circumstances, Pixie can be commended for spending hundreds of dollars on Mitten’s veterinary bills to cure her nasal fungal infection. Particularly since Pixie’s been very much strapped for cash. With all the turmoil in her life, she was having a hard time taking care of herself, let alone a sick cat. I helped out by boarding Mittens for free and providing all the care that she needed, including medicating her twice a day.<br /><br />Another reason Pixie never cared much for Mittens is that she appeared to be a very needy cat. I suppose it’s because she’s been neglected most of her life. It’s surprising that she’s so affectionate even after being abused as a kitten. <br /><br />According to Pixie, her ex-boyfriend’s daughter—who was a troubled little girl at the time—used to stuff Mittens in a pillowcase and swing her around. <br /><br />No wonder Mittens is so skittish. She’s a scaredy little cat who spooks at her own shadow. And needy? Yes. I still remember meeting Mittens on Pixie’s bed. My buddy and I had just gone into Pixie’s bedroom to get something when Mittens sidled over to us, back arched, tail held high. Meowing non-stop, she proceeded to rub and head butt us for the next 20 minutes. As we stroked her per demand, her fur flew (boy, does she ever shed!) scattering all over the maroon red bedspread. We tried to make a break for it a number of times, but she managed to corral us back each time. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />She’s a Brand New Cat</span><br /><br />Well, I’m proud to say that today she’s a far different kitty. She’s recovered from her infection, gained weight (a tad too much!), she’s healthy, and no longer needy. Most of the time she sits on my bed with a look of smug contentment. She never accosts anyone with persistent head butting. In fact, if anyone tries to pat her too much, she’ll deliver a kung fu kick with her hind leg—just a little warning, still pulling the punches, so to speak—or give a little mock bite. <br /><br />I also took her to the humane society to get microchipped. She has her own Home Again tag dangling from her Parisian chic black collar. Recently, I purchased a rhinestone letter “M” for her. She’s a styling kitty! At age 14, she’s young at heart.<br /><br />The other two cats in my life now are Sammy—my new temp cat— and Lydia, a blind, albino cat, who’s here to stay for good. All the cats here are senior cats. Each with his or her unique tail and a tale to tell. <br /><br />Have you ever adopted a senior cat? If so, how did that work out for you? Please feel free to comment if you care to share.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-75197629233231872102009-01-15T10:58:00.000-08:002009-01-15T11:10:57.386-08:00In Memoriam, January 14, 2009<span style="font-weight:bold;">Goodbye, Carlton</span><br /><br />Beloved Carlton who shared his life with my friends Jane and Joe, passed away yesterday. He was 17. He was a handsome, funny, quirky, playful, affectionate and adorable cat.<br /><br />Carlton had been ill for many years. In fact, when he was first diagnosed with a kidney illness in 2005, the vet only gave him 6 more months to live. But he was given the very best veterinary care possible. He went to every specialist who could conceivably help him. My friends simply doted on him. During his illness, there was at least one person at home with him. He wasn't left alone for even an hour. <br /><br />I know many cat lovers, but few loved their cat as much as Jane and Joe.<br /><br />Carlton couldn't have wished for a better life.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-11891697380734579902009-01-03T04:00:00.000-08:002009-01-03T04:00:00.803-08:00Adopting Cats That Aren't Brothers<span style="font-weight:bold;">Adopting Kitties Who aren’t Littermates</span><br /><br />Ever wonder how if it’s okay to adopt 2 kittens who aren’t littermates? It most certainly can be done especially if the cats are young enough. <br /><br />Here’s an amusing story by my neighbor and fitness guru CJ. It’s about how she came to adopt two cats that weren’t brothers. Oh, by the way, I’ve introduced her cats in a previous post: <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kidney Failure</span><br /><br />I had a cat named Maudie, who was sick with kidney failure. I had her from the age of 8 weeks until she was 19 years old. When she had to be put down I swore I would never get another cat. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />The Cutest White Kitten</span><br /><br />About one month after she passed away I went over to one of my friends house, and she had the cutest white kitten I had ever seen. Long hair, big blue eyes, I feel in love. It dawned on me that my friend Betty wasn't a cat person, yet here she was with this adorable kitten. I told her if you decide you don't want this kitty I will take him. She just smiled and said this cat has been waiting for you! <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Naming Cats by the Color</span><br /><br />She knew that one day soon after Maudie died, I would want another cat. So I adopted this kitty who was named Madison at the time. Part of the story is that my family has always carried down from generations.... color specific cat names....all white cats in my family whether they were male or female, were named Phooey. All yellow/orange cats that were male were Maynard and all female yellow/orange cats were Pinky. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Dumped in a Dumpster</span><br /><br />After I adopted Phooey, I decided I didn't want him to be alone so I knew someone who worked with "pets in need" and they had a couple of abandoned kitties who were dumped in a dumpster after just 3 days of life. They were rescued and waiting to be adopted. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Hyper Kitty</span><br /><br />I went to visit these kitties and one of them was about 4 pounds. He had long, orange fur and was as hyper as heck. He was running around like a crazy cat, attacking his brother, flipping over the litter box, and just basically being a kitty. I applied to become his owner but had to pass a home inspection first. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Just Like Brothers</span><br /><br />Shortly thereafter, I adopted Rocky, who then became Maynard. They are about 2/3 months different in age, but have always behaved as brothers. They are going to be 13 next January. They are the first male cats I have owned and, I have to say, more affectionate than females. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Long Live the Feline Siblings</span><br /><br />I hope they live as long as Maudie did—or longer because I cannot think of them not being around. Again, I swear I will not get another pet when they pass on, but I also know in my heart that I will.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-88831332251980559522009-01-01T01:11:00.000-08:002009-01-01T01:11:00.711-08:00Celebrating New Year with Cats<span style="font-weight:bold;">Ring in the New Year with Your Favorite Feline Friends</span><br /><br />Are you ringing in the New Year with your cat? Will you be spending New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day alone with your cat? Or perhaps with a cat (or cats) and a significant other?<br /><br />There were many years when I spent New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day alone with my black cat Saki. (Ditto for birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.) <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Holing up with Your Kitty?</span><br /><br />I usually had a better time snuggling with my cat and a good book than at a raucous party, or in the company of drunks. Or indeed, with my family. <br /><br />It’s not that I don’t enjoy getting together my family. But spending a major holiday in the company of a feline friend is much more peaceful—and generally more predictable.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A Good Cat is Forever</span><br /><br />At any rate, no holiday is complete without the companionship of a cat. For those of you who have lost their beloved cat recently, my heart goes out to you. I understand all too well the grief, the despair, the emptiness. But you will get through it. <br /><br />If you will, send a little prayer or a loving thought to your newly departed. Take very good care of yourself. Your cat wouldn’t want you to suffer.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Spreading Holiday Cheer </span><br /><br />If you don’t happen to have a cat, or even if you do, but you want to usher in the year 2009 with a few more felicitous felines, try calling a local animal shelter and see if they’re holding a New Year’s bash. <br /><br />In my area, Town Cats, a no kill shelter is offering a light buffet of food and drinks for humans on New Year’s Eve from 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. <br /><br />The shelter, which houses more than 100 cats, is also requesting treats and toys for their resident felines. Monetary donations are accepted too, of course. <br /><br />You can make a difference in the lives of these cats—and yours, too—by visiting shelter cats, giving them some tender loving care, and offering donations to the shelters.<br /><br />Happy New Year! May you and your cats enjoy good health and good times in 2009 and in all the years to come.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-32425979898919192742008-12-31T00:00:00.000-08:002008-12-31T08:35:21.957-08:00Cats and New Year's Food<span style="font-weight:bold;">Welcoming in New Year with Your Feline Friend</span><br /><br />It’s hard to believe that it’s already New Year’s Eve! Soon my laptop will be displaying the year 2009 on the screen. Amazing. I wish that my cat Saki were still alive to herald the New Year. <br /><br />But I do have my friend’s cat Mittens, who is the same age as Saki if she were still around. (Saki, wherever you are in the Great Beyond, are you happy?) <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Never Feed Your Cat Holiday Tidbits</span><br /><br />Anyway, as a cat guardian I have to look after the well-being of my furry friend. On New Year’s Eve, that specifically means:<br /><br />Do NOT give kitty any table scraps. Nil. Nada. It’s bad for cats. And dogs. Even if they beg, even if they look entirely too adorable, you absolutely must resist the impulse to toss them tidbits from the holiday table. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Can Mittens Ever Vibrate!</span><br /><br />Okay, I confess. On Christmas Day I gave Mittens some organic, grass-fed filet mignon from my friend’s plate. (It’s way too expensive even for human consumption.) She was ecstatic. She blissed out. She emitted 4 loud, resoundingly happy meows, purred loudly, and vibrated her tail. Mittens vibrates more vociferously than my cell phone. <br /><br />Hours later, she threw up. Fortunately, that’s all that happened. But really, I should not have given her human food. And not in the quantity that I did. Just because Mittens looked so cute that I could’ve simply squeezed her till she was purple (do cats ever go purple?) doesn’t give me the license to feed her steak.<br /><br />(Okay, more confessions. I’ve given Mittens turkey from the restaurant on Thanksgiving Day. In the past, I’ve also brought her home some cheesecake.) <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Nutritionally Unbalanced Holiday Fare</span><br /><br />Festive fare is too rich for cats—probably too rich for human!—as well as unbalanced nutritionally and could be harmful to their health. It doesn’t pack the nutrients that your cats need. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Cats Must Avoid Japanese Sweets </span><br /><br />Kittens require food that can help support their development and growth spurt. <br /><br />More confessions. When Saki was a kitten, I was living in Japan so I gave her some Japanese sweets. She loved them. Even though cats can’t taste anything sweet.<br /><br />When I happened to mention the snack to the vet, he shot me a look so withering that I wanted to tuck my tail and slink away. Well, at least I never fed Saki any more bean-jam filled pastries.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Be Careful What You Feed Elderly Cats</span><br /><br />Older, geriatric cats find it harder to digest unaccustomed food. Like aging humans, their metabolism is slowing down, and they need all the nutrients they can get to help them cope with the onslaught of age. <br /><br />So….<br /><br />Take it from me: Keep your cats away from New Year’s delicacies!Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-8197302716190002012008-12-30T11:10:00.000-08:002008-12-30T11:13:05.668-08:00Herbs for Cats with Liver Disease -- Part 2<span style="font-weight:bold;">Your Cat's Not Responding to Conventional Medicine?</span><br /><br />You might try herbal supplements for your cat if you’re not getting much result from conventional medicine, or you want to avoid giving your cat medication on a long-term basis for a chronic illness. <br /><br />Cats with liver disease might benefit from herbs and nutritional supplements. As mentioned in my previous post, however, please be very careful if you choose to do so.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Spotty Quality Control of Herbs</span><br /><br />Bear in mind that there is as yet little research on the effects of herbs on cats. That doesn’t mean that herbs aren’t safe—but it does mean that you should talk to your vet before giving your cat any herbal remedies. <br /><br />But most vets don’t know anything about herbs or nutritional supplements. It’s rather like asking your regular doctor for nutritional and other dietary advice—they mostly don’t have a clue. (I know, I’ve gone that route before for myself.) <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Get Expert Advice</span><br /><br />Look for a vet who knows how to use herbs for cats with liver disease. Whatever time you may spend researching for one is time well spent. <br /><br />You really need expert advice. Dosage has to be adjusted for the smaller body size of the cat. And remember too that some substances that are safe for humans can be toxic to cats. (Like chocolate and garlic.) <br /><br />Get herbs from a reputable manufacturer. (Again, get the recommendation of a vet or a practitioner that you trust.) Herbs are not regulated by the FDA (Federal Drug Administration) and the quality can vary a lot. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Helpful Herbs and Vitamins</span><br /><br />Here is a short list of herbs and vitamins that are sometimes used to treat cats with liver disease. I will discuss them at greater length in my next post.<br /><br />Milk Thistle<br /><br />L-Carnitine or Carnitine<br /><br />Turmeric<br /><br />SAM-E (S-adenosylmethionine)<br /><br />Vitamin B complex<br /><br />Vitamin C<br /><br />Vitamin ECheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-32862702930223309042008-12-24T11:26:00.000-08:002008-12-28T21:09:06.816-08:00Herbs for Cats with Liver Disease -- Part I<span style="font-weight:bold;">Should You Try Herbs for Liver Disease?</span><br /><br />I never used to think that cats could get liver diseases. Certainly not just because they stopped eating for a few days. But they do, they can get quite sick if they stop eating for a while, they can get <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">hepatic lipidosis</span></span>, or <span style="font-weight:bold;">fatty liver disease</span>. <br /><br />For symptoms and treatments, read <span style="font-style:italic;">"Could Your Cat Have Fatty Liver Disease."</span><br /><br />http://cat-tales-blog.blogspot.com/2008/05/feline-fatty-liver-disease.html<br /><br />If you’re a cat lover it’s gut-wrenching when your cat gets sick. You just want to do everything possible for you companion. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Alternative Therapies for Cats Diagnosed with Liver Disease?</span><br /><br />I think that if my cat had a liver disease I'd want to check out alternative therapies in addition to conventional medicine. <br /><br />In fact, I'd check into alternative therapies for any illness that my cat was suffering from. After all, I always consider dietary and other approaches to health care for myself, so why not my cat? There is, as they say, more than one way to skin a cat. (Oops, sorry, bad analogy! My cat Mittens is glaring at me from across the room. I think I've seriously offended her.)<br /><br />So I did a little research into some possible herbs that a cat might take if he had a liver disease. I discovered that many herbs that help people with liver disease also seem to benefit cats. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Precautions to Take When Giving Your Cat Herbs</span><br /><br />As long as you follow the following precautions, it should be okay to consider herbs and nutritional supplements for a cat with liver disease:<br /><br />Do NOT try out any herbs without getting them cleared with the vet. Although people tend to think that supplements or herbs are completely safe, they are not totally without side effects. <br /><br />And you absolutely should NOT mix herbs with prescription medication. If your cat is taking meds, you definitely shouldn’t give him anything without first consulting the vet. Otherwise, you could do your cat serious damage. <br /><br />You MUST get all herbs and supplements from reputable sources. They can be tainted and unsafe for consumption – as alas, so many pet owners have discovered in recent years. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Keeping a Daily Log</span><br /><br />It's best if you can keep a log to record your cat's reactions to the herbs. In fact, it's a good idea to keep some sort of daily journal if you have a sick cat. Don't just rely on your memory. <br /><br />Record the date, the time and dosage for any herbs, medication, or nutritional supplements that you give your cat. Observe your cat and note any signs, symptoms, or unusual reactions of any sort. Even if it doesn't mean anything to you now, it might provide a clue later. <br /><br />Leave a space to jot down any comments. Having a journal will make it easier if you need someone else to look after your cat. And, of course, it's handy to have around when consulting the vet. <br /><br />In my next post I'll list the herbs that may be beneficial for cats with liver disease.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-60779316788486365432008-10-14T22:11:00.000-07:002008-10-14T22:23:42.208-07:00Cat Pictures<span style="font-weight:bold;">More Cat Pictures</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8mx-VZHI/AAAAAAAAALY/K0B-urWUny4/s1600-h/phooey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8mx-VZHI/AAAAAAAAALY/K0B-urWUny4/s200/phooey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257245145716581490" /></a><br /><br />Phooey<br /><br />Just had to put up these cat pictures. These two adorable cats belong to my next-door neighbor CJ, who were once unwanted kittens. (I swear they make some of the best pets.) Aren’t they gorgeous? Actually, the photos don’t do them justice. They look even more beautiful in person (even if they’re not actually people). <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">My Heart Nearly Stopped</span><br /><br />My heart nearly stopped, the first time I saw him: he was so beautiful. CJ snapped these pictures when Phooey was in one of his goofy moods. He’s a cat with a good sense of humor and a dramatic sense of timing. He has a long, bushy absolutely gorgeous tail. Oh, have I already used the word “gorgeous” many times? I think it’s time for me to whip out the thesaurus! <br /><br />Phooey and his adopted brother simply adore CJ, who is a doting mom to them. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8nA7Eg-I/AAAAAAAAALg/KKbvO3cmVJM/s1600-h/maynard+2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8nA7Eg-I/AAAAAAAAALg/KKbvO3cmVJM/s200/maynard+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257245149729424354" /></a><br /><br />Maynard<br /><br />L<span style="font-weight:bold;">ong Cat!</span><br /><br />It’s hard to tell from the photos just how robust – and long – Phooey is. I was totally floored the first time I saw Phooey—don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat that was so very long, a virtual locomotive (and a very furry one), I’d say! When he stretches out, I swear he becomes almost as long as CJ is tall—and CJ is a tall woman, tall and blond.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8ngWUSyI/AAAAAAAAALo/NMVU8iBpWzc/s1600-h/phooey+2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8ngWUSyI/AAAAAAAAALo/NMVU8iBpWzc/s200/phooey+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257245158165203746" /></a><br /><br />Phooey<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Boy Toy</span><br /><br />He’s a boy toy, a toy cat, a feline gumby who lets you twist and turn him however you want. Drape him around your neck like a shawl if you want….well, maybe.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Spotted Nose</span><br /><br />Maynard, who is 2 to 3 months younger than Phooey, is just as handsome as his brother. As you can see from the photo, he has spots on his nose. Unlike Phooey, who is sociable and just loves attention, Maynard tends to shy away from strangers. So it was a rare treat when he didn’t run away form me one day but let me sit and contemplate his nose. I most definitely can’t pick him up like Phooey. Even CJ has to be a little careful when she skritches him cause he can suddenly turn on you and claw you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Big Boys</span><br /><br />Phooey and Maynard are big cats. The last time CJ weighed them, which was about a week ago, they both weighed about 14 pounds. They’re not slim and trim like CJ. But then CJ is a fitness instructor, so of course she has to look fit. Maynard, being a much shorter cat than Phooey, feels heftier. They are both big boys—sometimes big, bad boys.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Calling for Cat Pictures</span><br /><br />If anyone would like to share their cat pictures with me, I’d like to post them here. They can be pictures of your cats looking cute or funny or simply magnificent or anything else. (And of course, no animal should be harmed in shooting the photos.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8HXIZLeI/AAAAAAAAALQ/n4Ew8tBv1ws/s1600-h/maynard.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SPV8HXIZLeI/AAAAAAAAALQ/n4Ew8tBv1ws/s200/maynard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257244605935070690" /></a><br /><br />MaynardCheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-66788792279060615582008-10-11T11:44:00.000-07:002008-10-11T11:52:02.124-07:00Star Rating for Your CatWhat star rating would you give your cat?<br /><br />This is the age of ratings. Since we rate books, movies, restaurants, hotels, and so on and forth, why not rate our cats as well? (Of course, we have to be prepared to have our cats rate us as their owners – or guardians, for those of you who live in Boulder, Colorado.)<br /><br />Actually, I got the idea when I came across the writing of William Burroughs, who apparently was a cat lover. This is what he had to say about his cat:<br /><br />“I award Fletch a four-star cuteness rating. Like most qualities, cuteness is delineated by what it isn’t. Most people aren’t cute at all, or if so they quickly outgrow their cuteness…”<br /><br />Now, to help you rate your cat, I’ve listed a few of the attributes you might consider. These are just suggestions. You can add to this list or make up an entirely new one.<br /><br />Cuteness<br />Good looks<br />Intelligence<br />Sociability<br />Good manners<br />Sense of Humor<br />Energy level<br />Literacy<br /><br />The lowest rating is 1 star; the highest is 5 stars. You can rate your cat on each of the above qualities, or you can come up with an overall rating—or you can do both!<br /><br /><br />Here’s how I rated Mittens, a half-Siamese cat with an intriguing midline on her face that I’ve been taking care of:<br /><br />Cuteness 5 stars<br />No comments necessary!<br /><br />Good looks 4 ½ stars <br />I’d say 5, but I don’t want her to get too stuck up<br /><br />Intelligence 4 stars <br />She can open doors and she’s got me trained to feed her on command when she vibrates her tail. So I’d give her 5 stars except that she couldn’t help me fix the audio on my Skype.<br /><br />Sociability 1 star<br />She’s getting better though she’s still rather skittish. She’s sort of okay when the neighbors knock on my door but when Pixie – that’s her real owner – comes over, she runs and dives under my bed. <br /><br />Good manners 1 star<br />She really needs to devote a few afternoons to reading Miss Manners. It looks horrible when she – ahem, presents herself to be butt-whacked. Let’s just say that the view never improves. Not only that, she seems to prefer orienting her rear end towards me instead of her face. Never known a cat to do this. <br /><br />Sense of Humor 5 stars<br />See above.<br /><br />Energy level ½ star <br />She ran around pell-mell the other day—I’m sure it’s only because that was one of the few times that I had to do some catch-up sleep during the day. Otherwise, she has the energy of a slug on a winter day. It’s hard to interest her in any cat toys. Well, she is a somewhat older cat. At least she patrols the back patio on a daily basis. <br /><br />Literacy 5 stars<br />I know that she surreptitiously reads all my books. (Shhh, don’t tell her that her secret is out.) Every time I mention books to my friends, she butts in with commentaries. It’s uncanny how she knows what I’m talking about. <br /><br />I hereby give Mittens an overall rating of 5 stars! I know that doesn’t compute, but I’m never been good at math.<br /><br />So, what star rating did you give your cat? I hope you gave 5 stars at least!Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-5830071348933490912008-10-10T17:04:00.000-07:002008-10-10T17:18:04.176-07:00Overweight CatsFirst, my apologies for this long absence. I was caught up in deadline mania and failed to realize how long it had been since my last posting. <br /><br />Today, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Mittens, the Siamese with fungal infection of the sinuses who at one point was so emaciated that she was in danger of fatty liver disease, is most definitely out of the danger zone. The vet is elated with the cat's progress. She has to continue taking her medication for at least several more months, but she's definitely improving. She is so energetic now that she was galloping around the apartment the other day, keeping me from sleeping. <br /><br />Now for the bad news. Mittens is officially overweight. She weighs 10 1/2 pounds, which is at least a pound and a half more than she should. The healthy weight range for adult cats is 7 to 9 pounds. If your cat is a bigger sized cat -- like a Maine Coon -- then you have more leeway. My neighbor CJ has a cat who's exceptionally long. He weighs 14 pounds but does not look fat. <br /><br />But Mittens. Alas. She is a small-boned cat so every ounce she gains shows. I was so eager to fatten her up that I'm afraid I went overboard. <br /><br />Some people think that overweight cats are cute but in fact it's not healthy. Just like with people, overweight is not healthy. <br /><br />I'm now feeding her cat food for less active cats. Trying to resist feeding her every time she begs for food -- which she does with alarming frequency. <br /><br />I am also trying to get her to play more, but she is not particularly interested in cat toys. I am going to have to implement strategies to help her lose her excess weight -- and above all, to keep her from gaining more weight.<br /><br />Do you have cats that are overweight? How are you facing the challenges of slimming down an overweight cat?Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-25348164301168917222008-07-08T04:00:00.000-07:002008-07-08T04:00:01.024-07:00Tips and Techniques on Giving Your Cat Liquid MedicineI have to give Mittens cat medicine (<span style="font-style:italic;">Flucanozole</span> for her nasal fungal infection) in liquid form twice a day. The medication came in pill form at first, but I asked the vet to prescribe liquid medicine instead because it was a real struggle to pill Mittens. <br /><br />I’m always looking for tips and techniques for medicating your cat.<br /><br />So I was delighted to discover another demonstration video on the topic. Again, by “Partners in Animal Health,” courtesy of Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine. Go to this link:<br /><br />http://www.felinevideos.vet.cornell.edu/node/305<br /><br />This video is specifically about giving your cat liquid medicine. The first thing you do is to get out everything you need, such as syringe, dropper, towel, and kitty treat. That’s exactly what I do for Mittens. <br /><br />The video says to place the cat on an elevated, slippery surface to make it hard for the cat to get traction. Since Mittens is almost always on my bed and since she tends to freak if anyone picks her up, I just medicate her right on my bed.<br /><br />First, I drape a towel around Mittens like a bib. The towel makes it hard for her to escape. It also protects my bed in case any medication spills. <br /><br />She doesn’t struggle at all now. She’s been on the medication now for a good 6 months and by now she’s pretty much resigned to her fate. <br /><br />And most importantly, she’s so eager for the treat to follow, she seems to almost anticipate the medicine. (Well, maybe that’s a stretch, but she definitely looks forward to the treat.) <br /><br />What I’m trying to say here is that I don’t need to restrain Mittens like the video suggests. Nor do I bother tilting her head – what I do is insert the syringe in the corner of her mouth, in the pocket between her cheeks and gums. <br /><br />If you’ve never medicated a cat before, get a friend to help you. It’ll make a difference. In my case, my friends got injured trying to medicate Mittens – and I didn’t. <br /><br />So having friends help did indeed make a positive difference. <br /><br />For my story and tips on medicating your cat, click the link to my earlier post, “The Trials and Tribulations of Giving Cat Medicine.” http://cat-tales-blog.blogspot.com/2008/04/medicating-your-cat.html<br /><br />To find the video link on giving your cat medicine in pill or capsule form, go to:<br /><br />http://cat-tales-blog.blogspot.com/2008/06/giving-your-cat-medicine-instructional_27.html<br /><br />You’ll discover how fun it can be to give your cat medicine. Not.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-31807095316417444002008-07-05T04:00:00.000-07:002008-07-05T04:00:13.823-07:00Tales of the Weird -- Animal Communicator<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Talking Telepathically to Your Cat!?</span></span><br /><br />A friend suggested hiring an animal communicator to help me decide what I should do about living arrangements for Mittens, my resident cat. <br /><br />The mention of animal communicators brought back a flood of memories. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">A Pet Psychic in Boulder, Colorado</span></span><br /><br />The first time I ever heard about animal communicators, I was living in Boulder. I saw a flyer at a pet store. A woman named Teri was going to be at the store for a few days offering her services as an animal communicator. My curiosity piqued, I signed up. <br /><br />I automatically assumed that Teri was an animal behaviorist who could help me with some behavioral issues with my cat Saki, the black cat who had been my constant companion back then.<br /><br />On the day of the appointment, I stuffed my cat Saki into my backpack (yes, I left air space!) and pedaled to the pet shop. I couldn’t lug the cat carrier with me on the bike so I resorted to the backpack whenever I biked. Saki actually seemed to prefer the backpack. At least she was quieter than she was in the carrier. <br /><br />When I arrived at the pet shop, Teri – a friendly, normal-looking middle-aged woman – told me that she would be talking to my cat telepathically.<br /><br />“You’re going to what?” I thought to myself, incredulous. I was skeptical of telepathy between humans was possible, let alone with cats! But this was Boulder and I decided to go with the flow.<br /><br />As I was to discover, an animal communicator – a.k.a. pet psychic – claims to have the ability to speak with pets and other animals through the use of telepathy. Unlike animal behaviorists who approach pet behavioral issues as a sleuth would, trying to puzzle things out, a pet psychic goes straight to the source – to the cat herself. (Or, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Straight from the Horse’s Mouth: How to Talk to Animals and Get Answers</span>, as one popular book on interspecies communication is titled.)<br /><br />So far so good. Or not. <br /><br />I sat down and placed Saki on my lap.<br /><br />Saki remained remarkably quiet and cooperative. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Fu Gordon, the Renegade Siamese</span></span><br /><br />First, I asked Teri about Saki’s manifest hostility towards a neighbor’s Siamese cat. His name was Foo Gordon (not Flash Gordon!) and he always came to my house to play. That’s because both my then boyfriend and myself showered him with attention.<br /><br />That made Saki really mad. She’d growl and hiss at Foo, and the Siamese retaliated in kind.<br /><br />I knew cats were territorial but wasn’t there a way that Saki and Foo could get along better? (I was pretty clueless back then!)<br /><br />“Okay, let me ask Saki,” Teri said and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and relayed to me what she’d gotten from Saki.<br /><br /> “Saki says you don’t understand. Foo is really mean to her. You’re not aware that he’s making faces at her through the French door. <br /><br />And, she fails to see what you could possibly see in that Siamese. He’s not in the same class as her, not in the same league. Not even. He’s just too far beneath her to even consider.”<br /><br />(Here I thought Saki snorted every so slightly.) I must say that Teri did a credible imitation of the way Saki would sound if she could talk. <br /><br />Not a conclusive evidence that telepathic communication took place, of course.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Snacking on Kitties</span></span><br /><br />After that, I discussed my concerns about letting Saki outside to play. When I first moved to Boulder from Tokyo, I had believed that it would be safe to let Saki out. The town house we lived in was right up against the foothills, and the neighborhood was inaccessible to cars. It was an absolutely gorgeous area. An idyllic place for cats, or so I believed. <br /><br />What I hadn’t counted on was the presence of mountain lions, foxes, and raccoons. Cats sometimes went missing in our neighborhood, apparently eaten by mountain lions. A neighbor even got footage of one eating a pet cat. <br /><br />I was worried about Saki. But I didn’t want to have to coop her up indoors. I didn’t think she would stand for it anyway. The solution, I thought was to impose a curfew on her. She needed to come home before dusk – when predators were most active – say, 4 p.m. would be a good time. Could Teri communicate this to Saki?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">What, Me Worry?</span></span><br /><br />“I’ll try,” she replied. “But cats do their own thing so I’m not sure if she’ll listen.” Once again, she closed her eyes. Minutes later, she relayed Saki’s message to me:<br /><br />“Saki says not to worry. She can take care of herself. For your sake though, she’ll try to come home earlier.” <br /><br />As it turned out, about a week after the session with Teri, Saki began coming home earlier. Soon, she was regularly home by 4 p.m. <br /><br />Did Saki actually understand my concern? Who knows? Whatever the reason for her change in behavior, I was pleased. <br /><br />Besides, it was fun talking to an animal communicator.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-91534600012123922292008-06-30T04:00:00.000-07:002009-06-11T21:02:05.087-07:00Cat RentalsDid you know that <span style="font-weight:bold;">cat rentals</span> -- as in felines, not automobiles -- are available in Japan? <br /><br />This post has been moved to a new site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.realityntails.com">www.Realityntails.com</a>Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-28006159154075791542008-06-27T04:00:00.001-07:002008-07-03T15:22:58.526-07:00Giving Your Cat Medicine -- Instructional Video LinkWant to know how to give your cat medicine? <br /><br />Here’s a link to an instructional video on medicating your cat. <br /><br />It’s by “Partners in Animal Health,” courtesy of Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine. <br /><br />http://www.felinevideos.vet.cornell.edu/pet/fhc/pill_or_capsule<br /><br />Sure wish I’d had access to a video like this when I was struggling to get cat medicine down my cat’s throat. <br /><br />I tried to get the vet to give me a demonstration, but I only got verbal instructions. I never saw an actual demo. <br /><br />This video is very well done and looks very helpful. Although I’m not sure that it would’ve made much of a difference when I was trying to give medicine to my late cat Saki. <br /><br />I never, ever succeeded in her. I’d manage to get the pill way into the back of her mouth – as the video recommends – and then I’d stroke her throat to encourage her to swallow the pill – again, as recommended by the video. <br /><br />When I saw Saki swallow (I observed her throat), I’d ever so slowly release my hold on her – only to have her spit out the pill! She was only feigning to swallow. I think that cat was smarter than I – I was duped each time.<br /><br />What have been your struggles with giving medicine to your cat?Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-17859254820133686122008-06-26T13:46:00.000-07:002008-06-26T17:22:22.712-07:00Funny cats -- Japanese CatA friend sent me a photo of a funny cat from Japan. Is it a Bobtail? Maybe a Manx?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SGQBcaC2E-I/AAAAAAAAAJk/pWJYawU6RtE/s1600-h/IMGP0782-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WDYFZ57uC1o/SGQBcaC2E-I/AAAAAAAAAJk/pWJYawU6RtE/s400/IMGP0782-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216295855941096418" /></a><br /><br /><br />To find out about Japanese Bobtails, please see my post:<br /><br />http://cat-tales-blog.blogspot.com/2007/10/japanese-bobtails-are-called-bobtails.html<br /><br />Please share any stories you have about Bobtails.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-10973465111861797142008-06-26T13:28:00.000-07:002008-07-03T16:29:02.926-07:00The Woes of Cat MedicineDo you enjoy giving your cat medicine? If you answered “no,” you’re sane and normal. Medicating a cat has to be one of the more frustrating aspects of cat ownership!<br /><br />Take my friend, for instance. Her cat needs medicine daily. Because she finds it impossible to pill the cat, she’s taken to driving the cat to the vet everyday. I certainly admire her dedication, but she’s an incredibly busy person and I think there’s got to be an easier way!<br /><br />She says she’s tried adding the medicine to cat food but the cat sniffs it out. Alas, that’s usually what happens! This trick may work with dogs, but not with cats. I’ve tried grinding the medicine into powder and adding it to either regular cat food or baby food, but that never worked. <br /><br />Some people find the pill gun effective, but my friend says she can’t use it. <br /><br />With my resident cat Mittens, I finally figured out a way to give her cat medicine. You can read how in my earlier post:<br /><br />http://cat-tales-blog.blogspot.com/2008/04/medicating-your-cat.html<br /><br />Please feel free to share any tips and techniques you may have on giving your cat medicine.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-87252890117349450242008-06-20T04:00:00.000-07:002008-06-20T04:00:03.889-07:00Shop and Help CatsSo you love cats and you love to shop? Did you know that there’s a way where you can shop AND help cats? <br /><br />You can do that through a program called <span style="font-weight:bold;">escrip</span>. The program streamlines fund raising – and donations – contributing a percentage of the purchases you make using your <span style="font-weight:bold;">grocery loyalty cards, credit, debit and ATM cards</span> to the group or organization of your choice. <br /><br />You could, for instance, make donations to groups that promote cat welfare. <br /><br />If you’d like to help humans rather than cats or other animals (my goodness!), you can do that too.<br /><br />All you have to do is find what groups or organizations you want to help support are included in this program. And see which merchants participate in the program. There are about a 100 of them, including <span style="font-weight:bold;">Safeway</span> (in Northern California only), <span style="font-weight:bold;">Office Max</span>, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Eddie Bauer</span>, and <span style="font-weight:bold;">Macy’s</span>. <br /><br />Then you can register yourself online. The participating businesses will contribute a percentage (may vary between 1 to 5% or more) of your purchases to the groups or organizations of your choice. <br /><br />Your purchases are tracked and available for viewing online. <br /><br />I registered myself in the few minutes I had while waiting for a friend. It was really simple. (If anything’s the least bit complicated, I tend not to do it.)<br /><br /><br />You can sign up for up to 3 causes. For now, I’ve registered:<br /><br /> Feral Cat Foundation <br /><br /> Massachusetts Animal Rights Coalition<br /><br /> Project Hunger Inc.<br /><br />I can shop and help cats!<br /><br /><br />If you want to know more about <span style="font-weight:bold;">escrip</span>, click below:<br /><br /> http://www.escrip.com/program/about.jsp<br /><br />And here's a list of <span style="font-weight:bold;">participating merchants</span>:<br /><br /> http://www.escrip.com/merchants/new/index.jsp<br /><br />I think this is a great idea! It doesn't cost you a penny extra and you get to make at least a small contribution to the welfare of cats -- and maybe even some humans -- by shopping. <br /><br />I can't think of anything better than to shop and to help cats. A great boon for a shopaholic like me.<br /><br />Oh, in case you'd like to know about the groups that I picked, here are the links:<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Feral Cat Foundation </span>is a non-profit that helps feral cats in the Alameda and Contra Costa counties of northern California.<br /><br />http://www.feralcatfoundation.org/index.asp<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Massachusetts Animal Rights Coalition</span> is a volunteer group that helps educate people and gives voice to all suffering animals including unwanted pets and wild animals killed or abused.<br /><br />http://www.massanimalrights.org/<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Project Hunger Inc.</span> is a non-profit in Grand Island, NE whose goal is to address the reality of world hunger and help local communities through education and action. (Yes, this group is for humans, not cats!)<br /><br />http://www.projecthunger.org/mission.htmlCheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-31556424837055412432008-06-18T04:00:00.000-07:002008-06-18T04:01:00.225-07:00Cat CollectiblesIf you’re into cat collectibles – or if you want to give gifts to the cat lover in your life – you might consider some cat paws. Well, not real paws, but concrete stepping stones shaped like cat paws. <br /><br />You can set them in your garden pathway or hang them up on the wall as decoration. You can also get round stones that are like a fat cat, or ones like a lion’s head.<br /><br />They’re the creations of a general building contractor and nature and wildlife photographer John Pianavilla of Santa Cruz, California. <br /><br />Pianavilla loves working with his hands and he says he’s always looking for new design ideas.<br /><br />He thought selling these stepping stones would be a perfect fundraiser for an animal-related organization. He donates a portion of each sale to Project Purr, a Santa Cruz-based non-profit dedicated to decreasing the population of feral cats. <br /><br />Pianavilla uses a special concrete mixture that he developed to produce stones with a very smooth surface and precise detail. <br /><br />To add depth to the pieces, he sometimes adds a single color of concrete stain. He also adorns some with broken glass in the pique assiette technique.<br /><br />The basic stepping stones range from $10 to $25, depending on size and design. The faux-granite stones and the pique assiette designs are based on the intricacy of the pieces.<br /><br />Check them out at: http://www.pawsforacause.biz/Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-69435887568979300262008-06-16T04:00:00.000-07:002008-06-16T04:00:01.508-07:00Cats and Software EngineersToday we have a post by a guest who's worked as a software engineer in Silicon Valley for more than two decades. (He's seen it all!) As a long-time cat lover and observer, he's long noticed a certain affinity between felines and software engineers.<br /><br />What do cats and software engineers have in common?<br /><br />Strange question, you might think. Sounds like the set-up line for a bad joke.<br />But over the years, in my career as a software engineer here in the Silicon Valley, I've seen some interesting parallels between cats and software engineers. There are definitely some common threads that tie them together.<br /><br />Like what?<br /><br />The first one that comes to mind is: cats and software engineers both love freely available, and preferably unresisting, food. A recent incident of chicken thievery brought that common thread forcefully to mind.<br /><br />Mittens, the cat residing at Cheryl's place, has been getting much healthier and happier recently. As Mittens' health improves, her stealth improves too. Not to mention her confidence, her demanding nature, and – yes – even her apparent greed.<br /><br />Case in point: Cheryl had cooked some chicken and set it aside for no more than a moment or two. Quick as the proverbial flash, Mittens had jumped up on the table, started lickin' the chicken, and promptly ran off with a piece in her mouth!<br /><br />And this was very soon after Mittens had just been fed!<br /><br />Mittens needed yet another food fix. Like so many desperate addicts, she resorted to larceny to support her habit.<br /><br />Clearly Mittens feels much safer and more secure these days. I don't think she would have tried to pull that kind of a stunt previously. And obviously, she would not have done so when she had dangerously lost interest in food.<br /><br />Little Mitt’s appetite seems quite ferocious these days. It seems to grow by leaps and bounds. In this case, it grew with a leap onto the table and a bound into the next room to devour her ill-gotten gains.<br /><br />And Mittens seems to be channeling Cheryl’s previous cat, Saki, in the increasingly daring and brazen nature of her attempts to become more and more well-fed.<br />So what's the connection?<br /><br />Over the years, I've seen many software engineers ravenously trolling for free food among any and all company events. They stalk it much the same way that Mittens stalks a helpless, defenseless piece of cooked chicken.<br /><br />"There's a pot luck in HR!" someone will say, whether by email or cubicle visit, and off we'll go to see what's on offer.<br /><br />It doesn't matter whether or not anyone in the raiding party has actually contributed any dish to the potluck. It's a classic predator-prey relationship. <br /><br />There are no ethics. Only the eaters and the eaten. “Have lunch or be lunch,” as a Silicon Valley executive and so many others have so memorably put it.<br /><br />Other times, someone will pass the word: "There's a barbecue in shipping and receiving!"<br /><br />Or one of us will spy some pizza in a conference room, or in the company lunch area, and word will spread like wildfire.<br /><br />Unattended food – and sometimes, even attended food! – does not last long in the digital workplace. Certainly no longer than it would with a ravenous kitty like Mittens in the neighborhood.<br /><br />It’s a jungle out there. And sometimes in here too.<br /><br /><br />by John Hartsell,<br /><br />Software EngineerCheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-808028682738922893.post-70403382249958481932008-06-12T04:00:00.000-07:002008-06-12T04:00:02.201-07:00Can a Cat do Christina's World?Have you ever seen a cat “do” “Christina’s World”? I'm talking about Andrew Wyeth’s famous painting. And whether or not a cat could pose as Christina.<br /><br />I think most everyone is familiar with the famous portrait of Christina. She's lying on her side in a field of grass, gazing into the distance at a weather-beaten farmhouse on a wind-swept New England hill. <br /><br />Christina holds the upper half of her body upright, one arm extended out to support her weight. <br /><br />Her face is hidden from view. It’s hard to say whether she’s young or old. She has long hair and she’s wearing a pale pink dress. <br /><br />The painting has a brooding, haunting quality to it. <br /><br />In real life, Christina, was suffering from muscular deterioration that paralyzed her lower body. But she refused to let her handicaps stop her from moving around – she insisted on crawling through the grass. <br /><br />Anyway, Mittens, my resident cat, often adopts a posture that reminds me of Christina. The basic position goes like this:<br /><br />Mittens is lying on my comforter (almost always), and her face is turned away from me (as always). She’s either gazing into the far wall or resting with her eyes closed (as always). <br /><br />She extends one front leg out, while tucking in her hind legs underneath her haunches. Her fur has a kind of wind-swept look. <br /><br />She looks like she’s gazing out into the distance across the empty field under the empty sky. <br /><br />It’s almost like having a real-life “Christina’s World” in my bedroom. <br /><br />Uncanny, this cat.Cheryl Chowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917181390845024789noreply@blogger.com0