Eyes green as new Spring
By my side like a lion
Purrs with healing heart
Eyes green as new Spring
By my side like a lion
Purrs with healing heart
I’m going to open with our major coup! Woke up this morning and got out of bed. Duke followed. It’s cold here right now (maybe 60 this morning), so I got dressed and turned on the Keurig. Brought the fluid set up into my bathroom. Duke followed. I busted out some treats and Ted appeared (he can hear the opening of a treat bag, or the crack of a tuna can from pretty much anywhere). Both received some treats while I set up the needle. I was dreading the Week Two, Day Two administration.
Week Two, Day One was no bueno. Duke knows what’s happening and he didn’t want to participate that day. Needles popped out right and left. Finally I parked myself next to him while he slept in a sunny spot. I gave him pets and messed around on my phone until we were both calm. I tried to slide the needle in while he was sleeping, but he knows… so he sat up and let me do it. Then he walked off, under my dresser, and sat there. Thankfully he stayed still for a bit. We got 100ccs in before he decided to get up an shimmy his way out of the needle. The dose was fine, but it took three tries and I was convinced this would be come an increasingly difficult battle.
Then Week Two, Day Two arrived. With Ted booted out of the bathroom, Duke looked at me with eyes that said, “Ugh, we’re doing it, aren’t we.” “Yes,” I said, “Today is fluid day, but we will make it quick, and you can have treats, and then we will be done.” He reluctantly ate another treat while I fussed with the fur on his scapula. He walked away once, then settled down. He just sat there, still, while I found the spot and inserted the needle. Just still. I flipped up that roller to let the fluid flow; the needle was in a good, secure spot. I put down a handful of treats and the Dukester crunched away for 125ccs. Right at that 125 mark he was over it. He got up, leaving treats behind and walked a few steps. I turned off the IV (first time I got to turn it off without receiving a saline shower!), removed the needle gently, and opened the door for him. This time they were happy tears that trickled out unwillingly. He’s just such a good boy.
Happily, the rest of week two and now into week three (where are the WEEKS going?) have gone well. Even the “bad” sessions aren’t bad. I like to think myyyyyy fur baby is a GENIUS, but the receptionist at the vet’s office said, “Yeah, they’re all pretty good about it; it’s not really a big deal.” I beg to differ. It’s totally a big deal. I’m much more confident (like I pretended to be Week One, Day One), and Duke feels that. We’ve got a little routine going and that’s good for both of us.
A happy side effect is that Ted is thrilled because my house has become Treat Central and since he’s such a Skinny Snausage (yes, Snausage) he gets treats too. Since Cecilia pretty much keeps to herself, she hasn’t caught on to the Treat Typhoon which is good because the little fat girl shouldn’t be indulging. All in all, things are pretty good. Duke gets labs done in another two weeks, so fingers crossed there’s an improvement.
Thank you everyone for all of your warm thoughts. Duke and I really appreciate it.
By the time we met Duke he was 18 months old and he had cultivated a successful survival routine. In addition to his impeccable human manipulation skills, he was an accomplished hunter. Even though he enjoyed hunting, he really enjoyed air conditioning. As the months passed, Duke began spending more nights with Jerry and so a litter box became necessary to prevent his little bladder from bursting. During one of my visits to Texas, I set up a nice little station, but the poor little guy had no idea what it was or what he was supposed to do with it so he cried the next morning to go outside to relieve himself. All it took was one quick training session which did involve me scratching at the litter (clean litter) he knew what to do.
The downside to Duke’s brilliance and his increasing dependence on Jerry was that he would alert the entire complex to Jerry’s absence. After spending a weekend with me in California to help pack up the house, Jerry returned to Texas and a neighbor said, “So, you were gone this weekend?”
“What do you mean? How did you know I was gone?”
Apparently, Duke had climbed the tree next to our bathroom window and he CRIED and CRIED and CRIED all weekend. Had he simply gone to the back door, I would have understood. That was where he came in and out, and where we left food and water. But the bathroom window was around the corner of the building. Yes, we were on the second floor, so I suppose that it only made sense that the cat would climb the adjacent tree to try to get our attention. Until this point, Duke hadn’t officially been adopted. He came and went as he pleased and his schedule was erratic. It became pretty clear after this that we were his primary humans.
After I relocated to Texas and we moved into our house, we decided Duke should come too. I pulled in next to the Firebird, loaded him in the Highlander, and off we went. There was a short detour to the vet for shots, his microchip, and neutering. I wasn’t sure if he would adapt to being an indoor only cat. But he recovered in the new house and has never tried to leave us (on purpose anyway). We figure he was like, “Damn, there’s air conditioning, food that someone else kills and serves to me, there’s other cats to boss around, and a BED. Yeah, I think I’ll just stay here.”
Just like that, the Purr Pack was born.
This year has been deemed my year of “Revolution”. “Revolution” is the word I chose as my “word of the year” (in lieu of a New Year’s Resolution). As part of my Revolution I took a course hosted by Kate Yoga in Lauderdale-By-The-Sea. The program was written by Baron Baptiste, 40 Days to Personal Revolution. Nope, I cannot make this up. My word of the year was selected before I even knew this program EXISTED. I met really lovely people and learned a lot about myself. It entails exercise (yoga), meditation, journaling (including deep excavation questions), weekly group meetings, and being acutely aware of your diet (it doesn’t prescribe a diet but requires you to pay attention to what is going in your mouth). It included an optional 3-day fruit fast (I dubbed it the Fruit FEST), which I did. I did not die, but it was a bit of torture and required a lot of creativity. I have a new love for a salad made of avocado, mango and pomegranate seeds. I grilled pineapple for dinner, roasted eggplant (yes, it’s a fruit – trust me you find ANYTHING that is classified as a fruit!) and bought a great little hand held spiralizer ($15) to make zoodles (zucchini noodles). The bigger challenge was no seasoning or butter – just fruit. But post-fast (um FEST), I have held on to some of the same recipes and I add some garlic and olive oil, a little salt and I get the healthy eating with a little pleasure.
I voluntarily gave up desserts (ALL sugar was honestly too much work because sugar is in EVERYTHING) and I’m still holding firm with that (aside from the carrot cake I ate for four days straight at my grandmother’s house because she made that cream cheese frosting from scratch and it was amazing and how can you NOT eat your grandmother’s homemade cake???). After my initial REALLY AWFUL sugar detox period (some nights I still really crave sugar), I found that I stopped craving carbs as much (AKA sugar), which also led to not craving caffeine as often (I do have a cup of coffee a few times a week, but I don’t need it every day and no more Starbucks). Giving up all of those things may sound sad, perhaps like I’m missing out on things. However, focusing on whole foods really did make a difference in how I felt physically and mentally and that makes it worth it to me. I can feel your eyes rolling… and I get it… when you’re ready, maybe you’ll try it, and you’ll know what I mean. If you’re already walking that walk, you’re nodding, mmm hmmmmm. No, I’m not prepared to be vegetarian or vegan but I’m working to focus on whole foods with an emphasis on plant based foods and I like the results.
I started to beat myself up because I didn’t do the program 100% and that’s not my way. I did not do 90 minutes of yoga EVERY DAY during my last week. My meditations did NOT get to 30 minutes twice a day. BUT I did SOMETHING every day and Kate and Rob were such inspirational facilitators, that I was able to gain a lot from the program and would be willing to do it again. There’s always something more to learn. Always a deeper level. No, you don’t have to be some kind of yogi or guru to do the program. There were people participating who had never been on a yoga mat before. They thrived and it was amazing and inspiring to share their journey with them. There were people who weren’t ready and they dropped out. That happens in any course and that’s okay too. In the beginning of the course we learn the phrase “Begin Again.” So when you get off track, in the program, in LIFE, you stop, acknowledge it, and begin again. So wherever you are on your journey, know you can always Begin Again.
Because I don’t have ENOUGH to do, my little darlings have been creating more work for me. Or, perhaps they are trying to inspire me to write more blogs. If that’s the case, kudos to you cats. Kudos to you.
I had a “flurry” of guests and activity at my home in November and December and then Christmas decorations which require moving furniture (guests also require furniture moving) and then the partial removal of Christmas decorations (don’t judge me – I have garage reorganizing to do to get those bins back in place – it’s gonna happen. Before Valentine’s Day. I swear.). I have no idea if this is the WHY because honestly my cats appeared relatively unaffected by the activity. Cecilia waddled from my office / guest room into the master bedroom. Duke continued his role as protector and “next to” cat. Ted was in 7th Heaven with all the extra attention. He’s SUCH an attention whore. He will be up in anyone and everyone’s business 24-7 because he LOVES it. If anyone would be stressed I think it would be Duke because there were more people to protect me from. He was tired, I could see a little shift. But he’s back to his kind-of normal self, although he’s walking around the house howling right now. I have no idea what he’s howling about. ???
Random thought: My favorite and oldest mug, the first mug I ever owned as a single girl out on my own says, “Ask me about the cute thing my cat did because I’ll tell you anyway.” I’m using that mug RIGHT NOW.
Anyway, during this time, after everyone had left, my little Trouble Bubble (Ted) decided not to use the litter box anymore. At all. Just quit. Fortunately he used the wee-wee pads I put under the boxes for protection and he wasn’t peeing all over the house (good job Ted). I deep cleaned the boxes. He didn’t care. I did extensive research. Extensive litter box monitoring at all hours. Determined it was “litter box aversion.” I’ve had the same two boxes and same litter for years. YEARS. By the way, I love the Internet because you think you’re a really bad mom and then you Google these things (I also love that “Google” is now like Vaseline or Kleenex) and see all of the people who have the same problems you do. It’s like web therapy.
Anyway, I pulled out a third box, a standard box with low sides. The two regular boxes are clear storage bins. They easily hop in, do their thing and hop out. Cecilia stands up as she pees so high sides are necessary (go ahead, I DARE you to Google this – it’s a thing). The storage boxes were a reasonable, cost effective option and they took to it right away. YEARS AGO. So anyway (I should re-name this blog “Anyway”) they ALL started using the ONE low sided box. Apparently all species will opt for convenience vs any level of effort. Because they ALL used one box, Ted didn’t like that either, and I refused to set an alarm for 3:00am to clean out the litter box for the midnight eliminators. So, to my dismay, he still didn’t use the boxes (rather it was hit and miss depending on the timing of when the other two used the ONE box).
I researched other litter boxes. Found the NVR Miss. Looked interesting. Was going to buy it. Cost like $30. No. no no no no. Not happening. Do you know how many shoes I can buy at DSW for $30? I mean with my coupons and sales, etc (at least ONE pair, ok?)? So I broke out my rotary drill and cut a hole in the side of one of the storage bins for easy (aka lazy cat) access. Success. Now there are TWO boxes they will use and I’m on DAY 2 of no accidents. I’m giving it one more day, then will cut into box #3. Oh, the drama.
In other non-cat news: Today is my grandparents’ 70th wedding anniversary. Seventy years. I can’t equate that to anything. I think it’s amazing. They have good stories – even the “bad” stories are good. So many stories. I love them dearly.
Cheers, love, and kitty cat purrs