Saturday, March 02, 2013


Tommy has had his share of illness in the last 18 months, the most recent being a urinary tract infection. He eats wet (canned) food most of the time and I see him drinking water. Still... And, in talking to Amy, found that he is a couple years older than I originally thought. He was 2 or 3 when she got him in 2002. So off to the vet we go. A shot, a bottle of Clavamox antibiotic. He stops sneezing as long as the depo-whatever is in his system, then that starts again. In the meantime, the area rug in the den may be ruined - yes, that's where he chose his new potty to be after the litter box "hurt" him... Thought long and hard, long and hard between shouts of anger and frustration and tears of sadness and helplessness. I finally called Bridget who works at the vet's office, but no, she already found an outside cat. I'm thinking Lucy here... not Tommy - no one wants a 14 year-old ailing cat. Except me. And sometimes not. But Lucy... the little foundling from Memphis. The one who likes to watch me do anything in the office - type, cut, print, glue, rustle paper, sew, anything that involves fine motor skills, almost as if she's thinking, "If I only had thumbs."

Thelma, the beauty who just showed up. She shows signs of having been an inside cat - loves to have her tummy rubbed, has been spayed; but only rarely acts like she wants to come indoors. Which is good. And if she were an indoor cat, she has adapted really well being outside. With her long hair, it hasn't been a problem keeping it un-matted.

 Thelma and Amy, last fall.

Tommy and Lucy discussing the outdoors, last summer.

Today Tommy is calm, not sneezing at the moment; Lucy is watching birds from the window. If I did try to acclimate Lucy to the outside, would the other cats be accepting? Would they run her off? Would she know how to survive? Could she be taught to go through the pet door in the garage. These and other pressing questions go through my mind daily. The little box in the office isn't too bad. The utility room has more space and I don't have to worry about any odor, though I clean it out daily. So far Oscar has only tried to get into it once back here in the office, and I shooshed him out. I haven't set it back up on something - that may have been part of Tommy's problem with it - it tipped forward once when he tried to get in, dumping him and a lot of the litter on the floor.

So that's the cat-lamity. I love them. They may be getting to be too much for me. Lucy is sitting on the printer now. 

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