There I was, enjoying a bright sunny day. Then Frank showed up, and started teasing me!
There I was, enjoying a bright sunny day. Then Frank showed up, and started teasing me!
I had a very interesting interaction with Frank on Monday. We’ve had a stray black cat hanging around for a few weeks. In the past Frank has run him off, so I keep Frank inside until the cat eats. I put a bowl of food out by the tree along the woodline by 6:30 every morning, as he shows up between 6:30 and 7:00 am — again around 1:30-3:00, and even around 5pm, so of course I’m checking my clock to make sure I have food out there.
Anyway! It was a warmer day on Monday, so I let Frank out after black kitty left. Around one o’clock I happened to glance out and saw the stray eating. I also saw Frank hunkered down not more than five feet away from him. I knew if I stepped outside the stray would run, and then Frank would chase him. But — I had a bad feeling Frank was going to rip into him anyway, so I stepped outside and called to him.
I fully expected Frank to launch at the stray and take off in high pursuit. Instead, I saw him flick an ear my way, even though he kept growling at the stray. As I continued to call to Frank, the black cat hunkered down over his dish, not moving. I kept calling to Frank. I could see he was torn with indecision. Should he disembowel the stray, or run to mama to see if she had noms? What to do, what to do?
When I switched to the world-renown “Here Kitty Kitty Kitty!:” Frank actually turned to look at me and did his Di Nero impurrsonation:
I doubled down on the syrupy baby talk that all Cat Ladies are known for, and to my utter shock, Frank left his prey to walk across the back yard and up onto the porch. And when he reached me, he flopped over on his back for a belly rub. Meanwhile the black kitty is watching all this with his mouth hanging open. I picked Frank up and took him inside to give him lunch.
Recalling Frank from the summer of 2014 (click to read) when he was a Tabby Terrorist and tried to attack me while I swept him back with a broom to keep him from dismembering the poor sick stray, Joshua, this new version of Frank says volumes about how a permanent home with a warm bed and constant food supply, not to mention LOVE, will change a cat’s personality.
Ray and I loved Frank from the start. He looked like our Buddy who lived to be 22, and yet he’s not Buddy, he’s … Frank!
Welcome to dinnertime at Casa Koz. Tonight Darla, Huck, Becky, the kids– plus a half-dozen possums–are dining on their favorite party mix of Old Yeller dog kibble, roasted peanuts and minor marshmallows. Don’t you wish you were here to enjoy the feast?
Maybe next time.
This post was originally published in June of 2014 from my other blog.
If you’re wondering why I look so woebegone, it’s because she’s done it again. I’m referring to my mom. What’s she done, you ask? I’ll get to that in a minute. First, let me preface my revelation with a little hissstory.
I call the lady who rescued me from a blizzard back when I was a runaway 8 month old kitten, “Mom.” She isn’t my biological mother, of course. But since I don’t remember my bio-mom, and my rescuer doesn’t have human children, we came to an agreement way back on that cold day in January. She would be my mom and take care of me forever, and in return, I’d help her write books, and keep her company when she travels, and devote my 9 Lives to being by her side, through thick and thin.
Maybe I should have looked at the fine print in our contract.
Maybe I should have hired a lawyer to draw up a contract! (Is it too late?)
I didn’t realize at the time, way back on that cold January day, that the lady I let rescue me was a Cat Magnet. I don’t think Webster has come up yet with a definition, but my definition of Cat Magnet means, my mom can walk outside and a stray cat will be there — right there! — waiting for her to feed him, and name him, and take him to the doctor for…you know…doctoring. And then…she usually keeps him. *Sigh!* She’s pretty much run out of peoples who don’t already have a bunch of cats to ask if they want to adopt her newest stray.
Lately, my mom stinks like a tomcat. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. She’s adopted countless cats over the past two decades, and while she hasn’t kept them all; some she’s actually found homes for, the others who have stayed have sunk their claws into her heart. Which breaks mine. Because there is only so much of her to go around. And when a new cat shows up, all needy and wonky from Life on the Road, that’s less time she will have for me.
There are 7 of us living inside: Me, Opie, Peaches and her son, Jack, and her granddaughter Gidget, and Chauncie Marie, and Adorapurr aka Dori.
And there are 3 panfur cats living in our fenced yard: Jesse is Peaches’ son, Jack’s brother and Nikolas is Dori’s daddy. Feral Charlie has been around for 3 years, but he knows what a live trap is, and so far has eluded entrapment.
That’s 10, not counting the raccoons Mom cares for, who are currently making more raccoons.
Every single one of us cats has had a prior life on the streets. We’ve known hunger. We’ve been scared. We’ve had injuries, and sickness. None of us came to Mom 100% clean. She rescued all of us, and so many more, out of her own pocket, and out of her own time.
Time better spent on me.
I’m just saying.
I’m sure you might have read about her trying to capture Joshua, the sick orange kitty who found his way to our yard, but like Charlie, had confinement issues. He had a runny nose, crusty eyes, couldn’t breathe! So of course he couldn’t smell food inside the trap, nor could he smell food on a clean plate right under his nose. It took him watching Mom use a broom to battle back another tomcat who wanted to beat the stuffing out of Josh, for Josh to realize maybe she wasn’t his enemy. After the broom incident, Josh let her approach to feed him. She talked baby talk to him, and eventually he came to her for petting. She wanted to get him to the doctor, he needed it desperately. He was so thin, dehydrated!
But it wasn’t to be. He got scared, and then returned to the woods behind our house, avoiding Mom except for after dark when he would come to the porch and she would feed him and love him. And try to capture him. She got a lot of scratches from him being scared. Finally, she got a drug from the doctor and was able to pick him up and cage him. But it wasn’t to be. Joshua had leukemia. He is now OTRB, may he rest in peace. But at least he knew someone cared at the very end. Joshua would have joined my Mom’s cat club, if he had lived. There’s no doubt about that, cuz I overheard her telling him he’d have a home when he returned from the doctor. But when he didn’t come home, Mom made sure he would live forever by giving him the part of Wild Bill in my book, FINDING MYA. His picture is there in the book for all to see him. Forever!
Um… Remember that tomcat she had to sweep back to keep him from beating the stuffing out of Josh?
That’s Frank. He showed up about the same time as Josh, in early spring, acting tough, showing off his man cat pride with tail held high. Jesse and Nikolas never really bonded, but now, because of their mutual dislike of Frank, they’re pretty chummy.
Mom and Dad like Frank. A lot. He’s a 13-1/2 pound tabby, all muscle, with a tiny bite out of his one ear. Dad sez he’s a dog-cat. He comes when he’s called. He supervises Dad doing yard work. He wants to come inside the house to hang out with my mom. But… thank cat! Frank won’t be allowed inside the house. Unlike that old teevee show from the 70s, 7 is Enough!
Frank has claimed the garage for his turf. He’s been set up with a bed, a kitchenette, a fan and toys. Mom cracks open the door so he can come and go. She’s also encouraged him to hang out in the raccoon yard because its been so hot here and she doesn’t want him to get heat stroke.
Since Frank is an outside cat, and I’m…you know, King of my World, it isn’t likely that we will hang out together like we’re friends. But because my parents will stink like Frank from time to time, I will be aware of him, lurking on the fringe of my world…where he belongs.
Some of you might know that I’ve recently taken up pawtography. So, I decided to rise above my deepest desire to rip him to shreds, and asked Frank to sit for his Official Adoption Portrait. My wonderpurr talent has made him look better than he really is.
Do you live with a Cat Magnet? Or a Crazy Cat Lady? If so, how do you control her? I’m despurrrate for tips!
Thanks for stopping by. Have a Wonderpurr Day!
So far 2016 is treating me like a baby treats a diaper.
I’m dealing with excruciating foot pain from the three falls I took last year. I’m also concerned about Herman’s weight loss.
I have an appointment with yet another foot clinic tomorrow. I’m going to insist on x-rays since the other two clinics didn’t take them. As I fell for the first time a year ago, and at the time they said I had plantar fasciitis… it took me that long to learn how to spell fasciitis…I’m now wondering whether I have a fracture and that’s why I’m not healing. I have trouble walking. Sometimes I’m standing still and a sharp pain shoots up my leg. Being in pain like this is so consuming. Everything else falls by the wayside — like writing novels and blogging and tweeting and Facebooking, etc etc. Except for Herman’s issues. That takes up the other percent of my attention. So if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, now you know.
Even though Herman’s numbers aren’t quite in the zone where he needs to be on medication for hyperthyroidism, my vet wants him on Hills Y/D and nothing else. She says in order for it to work, he cannot eat anything else.
When my vet said this, it confirmed for me that she’s truly a dog person and knows only peripheral stuff about cats. When she said “nothing else” I distinctly heard Herm mumbled “Wanna bet?” under his breath.
Herman likes the Y/D food, both dry and canned. But — he wants variety. So after eating the same ol same ol for a couple of days, he refuses to eat another bite. He is wobble-walking from being underweight, and at 6.6 pounds he can’t afford to skip a meal. So yesterday the vet approved adding Iams Veterinary Formula Maximum Calorie canned food to the Hills Y/D diet. I ordered a case from Chewy.com and I’m crossing my fingers he will eat it. At least its variety.
It’s not that Herman is struggling to eat. However, he’s in the kitty gravy lickers camp where they lap the gravy and leave the meat. I’ve chopped the meat into a mush and he will eat it, but clearly not enough to maintain a good weight. Plus he has a heart murmur, so he is on Atenolol – which I understand will induce weight loss. He was on amlopidine for two months for high blood pressure, created by the murmur, and that’s when his weight really dropped. So my vet took him off that a week ago.
Yesterday Herman really worked me over. He had me opening no less than six cans of different foods — anything just to get him to eat, but he would take a bite and then walk away. So frustrating! Especially when the rest of the Wonderpurr Gang was all too willing to help eat what was left in the can. None of them are underweight, especially Opie and Frank who are pushing their cat suits to the extreme.
Anyway – I finally sat down with Herman to give him a pep talk to coax him to eat, and he did. I then realized he wanted a dinner date!
This morning he was again ignoring his dish. So again I sat down with him, and this time I scooped some of the food into a spoon and held it for him. He really liked that.
Not only does TattleCat want a dinner date, but he also wants his dinner date to spoon feed him.
I’m thinking this is the true definition of being pussy whipped.
I would love to hear from those of you who have been in this predicament with a finicky cat, and what foods, etc. helped your kitty to gain weight.
Thanks for stopping by, and have a Wonderpurr Day!
The average life expectancy for men was 49.6 years and for women 54.3 years.
Fuel for cars was sold in drug stores only.
Only 14 percent of the homes had a bathtub.
Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.
Most women only washed their hair once a month and used Borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
There was neither a Mother’s Day nor a Father’s Day.
Two out of every 10 adults couldn’t read or write and only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.
Eighteen percent of households had at least one full-time servant or domestic help.
Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering into their country for any reason.
The American flag had 45 stars.
The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was 30.
The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
The average US wage in 1910 was 22 cents per hour.
The average US worker made between $200 and $400 per year.
A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year.
A dentist made $2,500 per year. They charged $1.00 per filling.
A veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year.
And, a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.
|Beverly Cleary, author||Kirk Douglas, actor|
|Gregory Peck, actor||Betty Grable, actress|
|Dinah Shore, singer||Walter Cronkite, newsman|
|Olivia deHavilland, actress||Jackie Gleason, actor|
|Ferruccio Lamborghini, entrepreneur||Sherwood Schwartz, tv producer|
Ninety percent of all Doctors had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and the government as “substandard.”
Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at local corner drugstores. Back then pharmacists said, “Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach, bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health!”
Pneumonia and influenza
Sugar cost four cents a pound.
Eggs were twenty cents a dozen.
Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.
Bread was four cents a loaf
Tuna was fourteen cents per can
You could buy a new sedan for $740
The cost of an Ounce of Gold was $20.72
The cost of a Movie Ticket was seven cents
|Electric Iron||Washing Machine||Radio||Vacuum Cleaner||Model T Automobile|
|Self-winding watch||Electric Blanket||The Assembly Line||Refrigerator||Electric Dishwasher|
|Band-Aid||Drive-in restaurant||Sunglasses||Audiometer||Traffic Signal|
|Automatic Wrist Watch||Bulldozer||Instant Camera||Loudspeakers||Television|
|Bread Slicer||Jukebox||Garbage Disposal||Electric razor||Frozen food|
|Pop Up Toaster||Canned beer||Iced Tea||Band-Aids||Good Humor Ice Cream Bar|
Federal spending: $0.71 billion
Consumer Price Index: 9
Cost of a first-class stamp: $0.02
There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.!
Care to imagine what it will be like in another 100 years?
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