Misc cat stuff

Eddie has found a new box for his snoozing comfort. We speculate that this box is just enough bigger, with higher sides to make a fat cat feel secure. The paper sticking straight up is part of the packing materials that came with the box; there are more layers under him which he rearranges from time to time. Notice, too, the orange mouse to the left of the box. He's been enthralled with that particular mouse for about a week.




Chloe continues her unnatural obsession with the brown bear. I managed to snag a picture of her as she is most days, although at least here her little face isn’t smashed in the bear’s crotch. Yes, that’s what she usually does.







Wally remains the high strung enigma he’s always been. Kent bought a huge quantity of Velcro ties (75 I believe) and we are going through them at an alarming rate as Wally bats them under appliances, furniture and otherwise disposes of them as fast as he possibly can. Then he comes back to the file cabinet between our desks, paws at it (because that's where we store the Velcros) and cries piteously until we either fish out the ones under things or get him a new one.

It’s like fudge and caramel

They’re not the same.

And that’s how I felt about The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie. Sadly I couldn’t even get through the first three stories.

I took a Native American literature class when I was an undergraduate and absolutely loved the course, the stories, the glimpses into a culture right here in the US but so very different from anything I knew. You'd think I would have known something about Native American culture because the Haskell Indian Nations University is in Lawrence, Kansas, which is also where the University of Kansas is. But I knew nothing so the entire course was eye opening and fascinating.

Even 20 years later, I'll never forget Luci Tapahonso’s guest lecture, and I really liked Scott Momaday’s book House Made of Dawn. So I was prepared to enjoy this book.

Here’s the best analogy I can come up with. I love pumpkin pie and I could eat it every day. But I dislike sweet potato pie; in fact I downright hate the stuff. But it looks like pumpkin pie and I’ve been fooled a few times by the similarity . . . until I take a bite. Blech.

That’s how this book was for me.

Do you see what I see?

The window in our bedroom is tiny and looks out into the window well. We’ve painted the concrete walls white so that we get as much light as possible into our room. That window is the only window that actually gets direct sunlight so it’s a very important window in our house.

The cats have been obsessed with looking out that window, which baffles us both. There’s nothing to see except for white gravel (the better to reflect light), a cool hunk of green glass Kent’s mother got us, a couple of tiny, scraggly weeds and the concrete wall. We speculated that maybe they were looking up through the iron grate—which is also covered by a screen—to see birds and squirrels.

Yesterday I looked over Wally’s shoulder to see what he was staring at because he wasn’t looking up, he was looking out. This is what I finally noticed:

Do you see it? At first I thought it was a real mouse corpse until I noticed the tag. Then I realized it was one of our toy mice (this one is from Kent's mother, I believe). But the bigger mystery is how it got out there. We open the window for fresh air, of course, but we don’t open the screen. So last night we amused ourselves by making up stories about how that mouse got out there.

My story involved the Cat Nanny and also explains why Eddie turned against her so violently. In my account, she opened the window, tossed a toy out there and then made Eddie go out. Naturally enough, this indoor-only kitty freaked out, attacked her and the poor abandoned mouse was left to his fate.

Other options include cats transporting themselves through solid objects by way of that alternate universe they seem to favor, but that seems a little far-fetched. Or maybe Wally figured out how to open the screen despite having no opposable thumbs, tossed the mouse out and then closed everything up again.

You’re so vain

Kent is a really good photographer, but don’t take my word for it. Go check out his pictures on Facebook here and here.

But that puts me in a weird position because he takes my picture pretty often and I end up liking some of them a lot. So does that make me vain because I like my own pictures?

Here’s one he took last week in Bosham that I like. Part of the reason I like it so much is that it’s atypical of me because my hair’s blown off my face.

Do you feel weird when you like pictures of yourself? Or am I just a freak (Kent, don't answer that)?

A roll call

Chloe is turning into an old lady cat. I’m not exactly sure of her age; when I adopted her from the animal rescue in October, 2001, they thought she was one or two years old. I always leaned toward the younger age because she behaved so much like a kitten. But she’s slowing down now. She’s more tentative when she jumps up on my lap and lately she’s been crying at me when I’m sitting at my desk. I think it’s because she wants up on my lap but her joints hurt. It’s hard to know since cats can’t exactly say where they hurt.

That got me thinking about all the cats that have been in my life and I realized I’ve never had one die of old age before. In fact, only two have died while in my care. The rest who are gone are gone because we moved and it wasn’t possible to take them with us or we found them a home better suited to them. So here’s my roll call of kitties and what happened to them:

Tom: tuxedo cat my first husband and I got in Germany. He was a very rambunctious kitten and loved to zoom around the apartment. If you were in the way, he just bounced off you. When I got pregnant, we realized a baby and that particular cat weren't the best match. We found him a home without children.

Jessie: female tiger from a friend, also in Germany and the best cat ever. Jordan was a toddler then and he’d grab her fur in a babyish attempt to pet her and she just didn’t care. She never laid a claw on him. We found her a new home before we left Germany.

Stratocat: mixed breed male in Columbus from the animal shelter. He peed on the carpet so back he went. I had one toddler struggling with toilet training and one baby in diapers. That was enough bodily waste for me to deal with.

Tigger: tuxedo cat my former mother-in-law gave me after my unsuccessful attempts to get a feral kitten from under her porch in Muncie. Tigger was only six weeks when we got him and he was a fantastic cat, loved to be held and didn’t mind when the boys were inadvertently rough with him. He died at six from a heart defect and broke all our hearts.

Daniel Stripped Tiger: tiger cat, also in Columbus with the thickest tail you ever saw—seriously it was like a raccoon tail. He was shy, very, very shy and we weren’t the best house for him. Before we moved from Columbus to Lawrence, KS, we found him another home because at the time we had three cats and that’s just a lot of cats to move.

Mags: female whiney calico cat we took for a friend who could not have pets in her home. I kept her out of guilt, that is the only reason because that cat was needy, whiney and clingy. She was also a great hunter and brought us all kinds of dead and almost dead presents. I gave her to my best friend at the time, where she lived until about 20 years of age.

Henry: another tuxedo cat we got in Lawrence after Mags was gone and Tigger had died. He got passed around a lot, from us to my ex and his wife, to me, to a friend and I don’t know where he ended up. Mostly he was mellow. He wasn't really a lap cat but he would always sit right by me.

Ernie: the biggest cat I've ever owned. He was another all black cat with huge green eyes and he looked like a panther. He weighed 25 pounds and was the most affectionate cat. He liked to put his paws on either shoulder and stick his face on mine and purr. I had to move to a place that didn't allow pets so I gave him to a family with two kids. They loved him but unfortunately, as often happens with male cats, he developed kidney issues and died about a year later and broke all their hearts.

Chloe: I adopted her in Kansas City and she’s still here although slowing down.

Sammie: super sweet black kitten I adopted at seven months in spite of Kent’s reservations. His exact words to me about getting a second cat: It’s YOUR cat, Charlie Brown. Of course that guaranteed that Sammie bonded with Kent. He died from feline infectious peritonitis at 14 months and broke both our hearts.

Wally and Eddie: crazy litter mate boys, one butterscotch (Wally) and one gray tiger (Eddie) but with the exact same markings and body language. They refuse to let Chloe sleep her life away. Honestly I think she’s in better shape today than she was before we got them because they force her to be active.

So there you have it, all the cats I’ve had as an adult and where they are now.

Yum, yum

Kent is the true Indian/Thai cook in our house—it’s kind of funny that a pale, red-headed man born in Arkansas would be so good at cooking curries and stuff but he really is. However I’m no slouch myself and after our trip to England where we were both less than diligent about healthy eating, I decided to make some food that at least gives a nod to India even if it’s not all that authentic.

I have an old curry-glazed recipe from my mother that I’ve altered so it’s lower in fat; for last night I didn’t want much meat so I used one boneless, skinless chicken thigh diced into pieces and quickly sautéed, a cup of cooked brown rice with one tablespoon each of a good, hot curry powder and honey. The heat from the cooked rice and the bits of chicken help the honey thin out so it coats all the rice really well.

Then for side dishes, I found this recipe online. It’s AMAZING is all I can say—even Kent, who doesn’t really like carrots—loved it and wanted more. I didn’t put in the peanuts (didn’t have any and also that’s calories we didn’t need) but everything else was the same. I used a microplane to shred the carrots which was labor-intensive but I think the texture is better than with a food processor. If you make it, be aware that it's most definitely spicy so if you don't like it hot, dial down the cayenne.

And I made a cucumber salad with yogurt and mint which was also fantastic. These were easy, cheap and healthy dishes and really hit the spot last night.

Tonight I’m making chili-dusted black beans with avocado. I think tomorrow night will be some sort of Italian pasta salad and then later this week I’ll use up the rest of the rice and make a stir fry.

Hungry yet?

And one more post for the day

Kent took this picture with the not great camera and I think it turned out really well. That's Elise with me, she lives in the same building as Fiona which is how we all met. Plus she's got a cat and now uses the Cat Nanny when she's out of town.



The reception music was actually kind of dated, all 80s and 90s but not even cool 80s and 90s. In fact it was so bad at one point that a couple of us started rapping nursery rhymes to the beat of whatever song was on, which was an improvement. It also cracked us all up. What can I say, I am easily amused.