It seems like most of the cat pictures I’ve taken lately are of Koshka. Koshka does the cute pose very well and often, and Kaylee’s cuteness generally comes in the form of astonishing vocalizations.
The Professor’s work on an historical simulation (AKA war game) had finally come to a close with the game’s publication, and with it came a small windfall from the publisher. We came to the conclusion that this would be a good time to get Kaylee her Operation. She’d been driving us up a wall with her constant renditions of Klingon opera and other forms of loud cat craziness for the past year, so this was way overdue.
Kaylee had also begun licking and chewing on one of her front dewclaws. I suspected that it had become ingrown and was now giving her pain, so I called the vet and made an appointment for her initial examination and vaccinations.
Kaylee was amazingly calm about the whole thing — at first. She went into the carrier without a problem, rode in the car without a sound (except a few complaints when we stopped for a light next to a smelly tanker truck), and even greeted the vet and technician with friendly curiosity.
That all came to an end when the vet attempted to take her temperature. Hoo-baby! Kaylee has never liked being man-handled (cat-handled?) by strangers, and she immediately went into screaming-and-slashing mode. The poor technician got the brunt of it, even after they wrapped her in a towel. After five minutes of cat-wrestling, the vet finally got a look at the offending dewclaw, and declared that it was badly ingrown and very infected. They would have to take Kaylee to a treatment area to soak and clean her paw.
So, we waited, and waited…
At last, the vet came out to tell us that the dewclaw was far worse than it had at first appeared, and that Kaylee was too stressed (read: Ms. Heart-of-a-Panther had tried to shred the technician again) to allow them to treat her without giving her anesthesia. As long as they were going to have to knock her out to remove the dewclaw and cut away the necrotic tissue, would we consider having her spayed while they were at it?
Of course, I was all over it: normally it would have taken another two weeks before we’d have an appointment for a spaying. Plus, it meant Kaylee would only have to undergo anesthesia once instead of twice which would be better for everybody’s nerves.
So, Kaylee got to stay at the hospital to have her spa treatment.
Meanwhile, back at the cat box…
Koshka was not exactly missing her mama. Perhaps she remember what happened after her siblings went away in the cat carrier – they didn’t come back. She was just resigning herself to being the sole center of attention. We spent the rest of the cold, snowy afternoon snuggled up together in bed.
Imagine her surprise when the Professor and I returned from another outing the following day with Kaylee in the carrier. Kaylee stepped out of the carrier, looking dazed and confused, and Koshka went into an immediate freak-out with her back arched and tail fluffed out. Kaylee probably smelled awful after having been sloshed with antiseptics, and Koshka was in terror for her life. The kitten was treating her mama like a lit stick of dynamite — and mama couldn’t have cared less. Kaylee retreated back into the carrier to sleep, and Koshka has spent the time since keeping a watchful eye to make sure this alien creature didn’t explode.
Of course, this isn’t quite the end of the tale. Kaylee still needs antibiotics twice a day for the infection, and a pain-killer in the morning. As the chief cat-wrangler, it falls to me to medicate the cat. It may be a while before Kaylee forgives me for the continuing indignity, but, she’ll thank me later…
Right. Panthers have long memories.
An article in The PETA Files blog hails the upcoming anti-fur protest rally that the organization is going to hold in Second Life on July 12. Their slogan for this rally appears to be “I’d rather be pixelated than wear fur.”
Ooookay. I won’t wear fur in Real Life, and avoid doing so in Second Life as well. One of my favorite SL clothing designers makes outfits trimmed in “fur” and it makes me sad. I love animals (see the multitude of critter and cat-centric photos upstream). However, PETA chaps my butt for their extremist views for the general treatment of animals, so this move is giving me pause. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
I’m also curious about how PETA regards Second Life’s community of Furries — people who would prefer to interact in SL using animal, mostly mammalian and fur-bearing, avatars. This is the ultimate in the wearing of fur by humans, IMO, though your mileage will vary, depending on the furry to whom you speak.
I may send my alt (alternative avatar) to the rally wearing his fox AV, just to see what happens…
Peanut Brain stops by for a chat.
The squirrel is more interested in me and the possbility of cadging some peanuts than in the possible danger posed by the two mighty huntresses. However, even the birds don’t take Kaylee and Koshka very seriously.
The critters around here are out to get me today.
I just get out of bed and look out on the balcony. Peanut Brain has dug up every single flower pot; the morning glories are big enough to survive, but everything else is probably dead.
Then, I go into the computer room. My monitor was… missing.
Actually, someone (I suspect Koshka) had knocked it off the desk. The desk is a corner desk with a gap down the back where it fits up against the wall. The monitor is just top-heavy enough that a small animal can topple it over.
Fortunately, I keep all the boxes that my assorted peripherals came in and have stowed them under the desk in that gap on the floor. The monitor landed face first on a largish box and was undamaged. Getting the monitor back onto the desk was more exercise than I was prepared for at this hour of the day, however.
The day can only get better from here.
If you can, go adopt a pet. If you can’t, at least visit a shelter and make a donation.
Bryan posted this tail of woe Last week, and now I have one of my own.
Granted, I’m not a spotless housekeeper, and subscribe to the Pilot method of document control, but the Krowd has way too much fun in the computer room.
Kaylee’s Krowd bellies up to the bar for their morning libations. Apparently, there’s not enough room under the bed for them any more.
I certainly wish Momcat would find another spot for the kids; having the tots running in and out from under the bed has been particularly hazardous for all of us lately. I’ve had a wicked case of the flu this week, and have not had the luxury, sometimes, of being able to watch where I’m going in the middle of the night. There have been no injuries so far, but at least a couple of close calls.
All righty, then! Time for some kitten pictures.
One of Kaylee’s teats must give chocolate milk or something, because a tussle broke out when all the kids decided to go after the same one. Mom sorted them out in rapid order; they’ll just have to take turns.
I feel as if I had given birth to those kittens, myself: My joints are crunchy by nature; I’m as stiff as a board now from getting down on my hands and knees, and crawling around on the floor most of the day.
Still no pictures. Apart from not wanting to freak Kaylee out any more than she already is, she has the babies stowed in a place where it’s impossible to get a camera. There will be photos when the kittens are more mobile.
Oh, yeah. She’s already moved the kits out of the birthing box. She has suddenly developed a bad case of separation anxiety and needs to be within touching distance of me at all times. I tried sleeping on the floor outside the closet for a while last night to reassure her, but those crunchy knees would not allow it, and I moved to my own bed. When it became apparent that I was not coming back to the hall at 2 o’clock in the morning, Kaylee moved the kittens into the bedroom, under the foot of my bed. I pushed some towels under there to keep the babies from crawling away where I couldn’t reach them, but otherwise I’ll just leave them alone.
Other than the separation anxiety (which will probably fade over time), Kaylee seems to be doing well, herself. She’s in extreme nuzzle mode, and has been eating heartily: Half a cup of kibble and a whole can of wet food has disappeared in the last day, and I don’t think the Professor has been eating it.
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