Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
We went to my mother's house for the traditional meal and gathering. As expected, the cats, who stayed home, were quite indignant that we were gone for so long. Not that they missed us, really, but we were overdue to feed them. How dare we miss dinner time?
My mom, also an animal lover, decided that the best use for the turkey pickings after the feast was done, was to give the cats their Thanksgiving. She spent the time to pick the turkey clean to the bone, tearing the larger pieces into smaller ones, and mixing it with the remaining pan drippings. She packaged it all for us to bring back to the cats.
Of course, the moment we stepped through the door to our own house, the cats were yelling. It didn't last long, however, once I scooped about a cup full of the "Kitty Thanksgiving" mixture onto their empty plate.
Our cats eat canned and dry cat food daily. This special treat was definitely appreciated! Thanks, Mom!
Friday, November 25, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Clea LOVES Catnip
Clea was acting quite schizophrenic yesterday. She was bouncing all over the place, and could not seem to be content anywhere. When I went outside, I discovered why.
In cleaning up the yard in preparation for winter, the cage that usually covers the catnip patch had been temporarily moved. Clea had found it. Clea started digging at the roots of one of the catnip plants. Clea had taken ownership of that plant. She couldn't seem to figure out if she should be guarding her plant, or running away and hiding from everyone and everything. She was hungry enough to go into her food dish, but so worried she couldn't take more than a couple of bites before hurrying back to her plant.
She appeared to be a cat in the throes of a panic attack. She didn't want to leave her catnip plant. She would wrap her entire body around it, chewing on the stalk. Then she would bolt up and take off across the yard at full speed. In the house, out of the house, back to her catnip plant. This went on all day.
It's any wonder that, when nightfall came, she was exhausted.
In cleaning up the yard in preparation for winter, the cage that usually covers the catnip patch had been temporarily moved. Clea had found it. Clea started digging at the roots of one of the catnip plants. Clea had taken ownership of that plant. She couldn't seem to figure out if she should be guarding her plant, or running away and hiding from everyone and everything. She was hungry enough to go into her food dish, but so worried she couldn't take more than a couple of bites before hurrying back to her plant.
She appeared to be a cat in the throes of a panic attack. She didn't want to leave her catnip plant. She would wrap her entire body around it, chewing on the stalk. Then she would bolt up and take off across the yard at full speed. In the house, out of the house, back to her catnip plant. This went on all day.
It's any wonder that, when nightfall came, she was exhausted.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Haggred's Love/Hate Relationship with Grooming
We have 2 long haired cats: Sidewinder and Haggred. Sidewinder is always impeccably groomed, never a knot or mat found on her! If she needs assistance removing a burdock or other thorny item from her fur, she will begrudgingly come to us for help.
Haggred is another story. Being a stray for the first part of his life, apparently grooming wasn't as important to him. We have had him for over 2 years now, and every time I bring out the comb he's still very wary.
For the longest time, the only part he would allow me to comb was his "mustache" and maybe, if he was in a good mood, his mane. After a while, he would let me groom his back as long as I let him beat up the comb afterwards.
Now, I always start a grooming session letting him sniff the comb. I start with his face, mustache, mane, top of his head. He'll start purring and drooling, so I know he's comfortable with this part. Haggred becomes a little wary when I start on his back. As long as I take only a couple of runs through it and then go back to his mustache, he's fine. He doesn't start to get cranky until I start on his sides, tail or butt. Unfortunately, these are the areas that generally require the most attention. He will allow me to get a mat out only so far, then pulls it out himself.
Grooming a long haired cat who is not accustomed to it takes a lot of patience. Forcing it will only make the next time that much harder, because cats do remember such things. With Haggred, taking the grooming problem at his own pace has taken years, but we are getting there. I have tried to make the grooming sessions at the same time every day, so he knows when to expect it. He has responded very well, even to jump up on his perch several minutes before as if to say "I'm waiting - what's taking you so long?"
We still have to hold him down to remove burdocks, but at least Haggred makes a point of showing me that he has them now. He'll hiss and jump down as soon as he's released, the jump right back up again waiting for his mustache to be combed. Go figure!
Haggred is another story. Being a stray for the first part of his life, apparently grooming wasn't as important to him. We have had him for over 2 years now, and every time I bring out the comb he's still very wary.
For the longest time, the only part he would allow me to comb was his "mustache" and maybe, if he was in a good mood, his mane. After a while, he would let me groom his back as long as I let him beat up the comb afterwards.
Now, I always start a grooming session letting him sniff the comb. I start with his face, mustache, mane, top of his head. He'll start purring and drooling, so I know he's comfortable with this part. Haggred becomes a little wary when I start on his back. As long as I take only a couple of runs through it and then go back to his mustache, he's fine. He doesn't start to get cranky until I start on his sides, tail or butt. Unfortunately, these are the areas that generally require the most attention. He will allow me to get a mat out only so far, then pulls it out himself.
Grooming a long haired cat who is not accustomed to it takes a lot of patience. Forcing it will only make the next time that much harder, because cats do remember such things. With Haggred, taking the grooming problem at his own pace has taken years, but we are getting there. I have tried to make the grooming sessions at the same time every day, so he knows when to expect it. He has responded very well, even to jump up on his perch several minutes before as if to say "I'm waiting - what's taking you so long?"
We still have to hold him down to remove burdocks, but at least Haggred makes a point of showing me that he has them now. He'll hiss and jump down as soon as he's released, the jump right back up again waiting for his mustache to be combed. Go figure!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Happy Birthday Tasha!
Even though we picked Tasha up from a shelter, the vet at the time told us that her 6 month teeth were not quite finished growing in. Therefore, we estimated her birthday was somewhere at the end of October/early November. Tasha is now 15 years old!
Absolutely amazing for a cat that had such a rough beginning. Her trust needed to be earned, but her loyalty has never been doubted. One year, when we went on vacation, we had a friend house sit. Apparently Tasha didn't like him very much, because she disappeared on the 3rd day of our absence. I found her only an hour or so after we came home. She had decided that it was better to live under our neighbor's shed, where she could watch our driveway, than to deal with a stranger.
On another vacation, a friend offered to watch all of our cats. We put them in a 4' dog cage and brought them to his house. When we returned, all of the cats had gotten out. There was no sign of the others, but Tasha preferred to stay inside his house, torturing him by howling every night while remaining hidden. She very happily came to me to be brought back home.
Tasha was only a year or two old when we had to relocate. We were living in a camper at a campground. Our clothes were located in bins on one of the unused bunks. She would curl up in one of the bins, and it would never fail that whichever of the 3 bins we would pull out, she would be in. It became somewhat like a shell game - who could get their clothes without being hissed at? The trick was to pull out a bin halfway. If you heard a hiss, or it felt heavier than usual, push it back in. Pull it back out and it would only have clothes in it. It took a while to figure this out, especially for my husband, but eventually it all worked out.
Happy Birthday, Tasha! Thank you for all of your 15 years of purrs, howls, and yes, hisses.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sometimes They Just Don't Get Along
Cats are wonderfully adaptive creatures. When we brought Clea home as a kitten, we kept her in one room away from the other cats for a week or so. When we opened that door for her to finally meet the cats she smelled under the door, it was interesting to say the least.
Now, Clea and Haggred are playmates, especially outdoors. They play what looks like tag, with one pouncing on the other and then running away being chased. Clea will still rub up against Tasha, who for whatever reason shows more patience to Clea than any other cat. Yet after all of these years, Clea will puff up and growl at simply the sight of Sidewinder.
It didn't start out this way. It actually started with Sidewinder staring the the kitten Clea, and hissing whenever she got too close (like within 8 feet!). If the two came across each other outside, there would be a cat fight. Sidewinder holds her ground, unless there is a human around. Clea is almost always the one to turn tail and run off.
Yet somehow these two have managed to coexist in the same house for many years now. Each has a separate room they feel safe in, in which the other cat will not go. They each have their own window in the living room as well, where they will be laying on the back of the same couch on either end, ignoring the others' existence. It's amazing to watch.
Now, Clea and Haggred are playmates, especially outdoors. They play what looks like tag, with one pouncing on the other and then running away being chased. Clea will still rub up against Tasha, who for whatever reason shows more patience to Clea than any other cat. Yet after all of these years, Clea will puff up and growl at simply the sight of Sidewinder.
It didn't start out this way. It actually started with Sidewinder staring the the kitten Clea, and hissing whenever she got too close (like within 8 feet!). If the two came across each other outside, there would be a cat fight. Sidewinder holds her ground, unless there is a human around. Clea is almost always the one to turn tail and run off.
Yet somehow these two have managed to coexist in the same house for many years now. Each has a separate room they feel safe in, in which the other cat will not go. They each have their own window in the living room as well, where they will be laying on the back of the same couch on either end, ignoring the others' existence. It's amazing to watch.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Haggred Has Lost His Dog
About 6 months after we adopted Haggred, we adopted an older Lab/Husky mix from the same shelter. This poor dog was afraid of everything and everyone, and seemed to have forgotten how to play.
Haggred decided that he was going to adopt Nikki, as she was named. He would bring in live mice and moles to watch her play with them. When I would bring Nikki for a walk, Haggred would come along as well. I'll tell you, the looks I got from the neighbors from walking a cat and a dog at the same time were quite incredulous.
Nikki passed away from congestive heart failure one Sunday morning. Haggred went over and sniffed her, rubbed up against her, then disappeared outside. He came back in shortly with a flying squirrel he had killed and dropped it as close to her as he could get.
It was a very touching scene. Haggred lives on, still bringing us all kinds of local wildlife as gifts, but Nikki is very much missed.
Haggred decided that he was going to adopt Nikki, as she was named. He would bring in live mice and moles to watch her play with them. When I would bring Nikki for a walk, Haggred would come along as well. I'll tell you, the looks I got from the neighbors from walking a cat and a dog at the same time were quite incredulous.
Nikki passed away from congestive heart failure one Sunday morning. Haggred went over and sniffed her, rubbed up against her, then disappeared outside. He came back in shortly with a flying squirrel he had killed and dropped it as close to her as he could get.
It was a very touching scene. Haggred lives on, still bringing us all kinds of local wildlife as gifts, but Nikki is very much missed.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Meet The Players III - Haggred
Haggred is another shelter adoptee. At 27 pounds, this 7 year old Siberian can lay his head on my shoulder while his tail flicks around my knees.
A very independent guy, he was the terror of the shelter. He figured out how to open latches and doors, and every evening would let all the cats in the shelter out to roam the building. You can imagine the destruction that caused, especially in the offices! The staff would leave in the evening with everything as it should be, only to return the next morning to find shelves and desktops cleared and cats everywhere!!
He was found as a stray by a woman who tried to keep him inside. When he constantly fought with her other cat, she decided to bring him to the shelter. We adopted him 3 months later. His first few days here he layed low, watching the household from under beds and couches. After a week, when he seemed comfortable, I let him outside for the first time. He immediately ran up a tree!
He didn't want to come in. The evening routine at our house is to call each of the cats individually from the back door and let them in before bed. I called Haggred every night. It wasn't until the 4th night that I went to call the cats, and there he was sitting on the back porch waiting. A little bit of a scare, but I understand this guy needs to be allowed his independence.
A very independent guy, he was the terror of the shelter. He figured out how to open latches and doors, and every evening would let all the cats in the shelter out to roam the building. You can imagine the destruction that caused, especially in the offices! The staff would leave in the evening with everything as it should be, only to return the next morning to find shelves and desktops cleared and cats everywhere!!
He was found as a stray by a woman who tried to keep him inside. When he constantly fought with her other cat, she decided to bring him to the shelter. We adopted him 3 months later. His first few days here he layed low, watching the household from under beds and couches. After a week, when he seemed comfortable, I let him outside for the first time. He immediately ran up a tree!
He didn't want to come in. The evening routine at our house is to call each of the cats individually from the back door and let them in before bed. I called Haggred every night. It wasn't until the 4th night that I went to call the cats, and there he was sitting on the back porch waiting. A little bit of a scare, but I understand this guy needs to be allowed his independence.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Meet the Players Part 2 - Sidewinder
Yes, a Sidewinder is a type of snake. This female Maine Coon earned this name due to her constant sideways walk when she was a kitten. She still does it from time to time.
Sidewinder was adopted from a woman who raised Maine Coons whose cats had 3 litters within 2 weeks. We brought her home with a second kitten, Ricky, a male runt of a different litter. These two we called "the twins" as they were ALWAYS doing everything together!
Ricky grew in size and ego until he was a hefty 20+ pounds and looked like a small bear when he wanted to. He would stop the little traffic we have on our dirt road to take a look inside the vehicles by simply rising up on his hind legs! Unfortunately, he didn't realize that he could not be seen by the drill truck driver, and when the property across the street sold and was developed, he was hit and lost his life.
Sidewinder continues on in her own very independent manner. She doesn't have a lot of interaction with the other cats as is her choice. She has adopted my youngest daughter instead and has become "Nanny Sidewinder". She will come out looking for my daughter every night at bedtime. If we are sitting on the couch watching television, Sidewinder will either pace back and forth behind my daughter, or sit on her lap flicking her tail right in my daughter's face. Sidewinder will NOT be ignored. She will follow my daughter into bed, and stay with her until she falls asleep.
In the morning, Sidewinder's job is to wake my daughter up. She is very persistent, and has devised several ways to get my daughter out of bed. Of course, Sidewinder has an ulterior motive in this: Once off to school, my daughter's bed is all Sidewinder's all day. Just ask her.
Sidewinder was adopted from a woman who raised Maine Coons whose cats had 3 litters within 2 weeks. We brought her home with a second kitten, Ricky, a male runt of a different litter. These two we called "the twins" as they were ALWAYS doing everything together!
Ricky grew in size and ego until he was a hefty 20+ pounds and looked like a small bear when he wanted to. He would stop the little traffic we have on our dirt road to take a look inside the vehicles by simply rising up on his hind legs! Unfortunately, he didn't realize that he could not be seen by the drill truck driver, and when the property across the street sold and was developed, he was hit and lost his life.
Sidewinder continues on in her own very independent manner. She doesn't have a lot of interaction with the other cats as is her choice. She has adopted my youngest daughter instead and has become "Nanny Sidewinder". She will come out looking for my daughter every night at bedtime. If we are sitting on the couch watching television, Sidewinder will either pace back and forth behind my daughter, or sit on her lap flicking her tail right in my daughter's face. Sidewinder will NOT be ignored. She will follow my daughter into bed, and stay with her until she falls asleep.
In the morning, Sidewinder's job is to wake my daughter up. She is very persistent, and has devised several ways to get my daughter out of bed. Of course, Sidewinder has an ulterior motive in this: Once off to school, my daughter's bed is all Sidewinder's all day. Just ask her.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Meet the Players Part 1 - Tasha
Currently our house is the desired home of 4 cats: Tasha, Sidewinder, Haggred, and Clea.
Tasha
At age 14, Tasha, a Siamese cross, is by far the oldest and has been our friend the longest. Fifteen years ago I had asked the local shelter to contact me if any Siamese came in. At the time, I had recently lost another long time Siamese friend who came to me from a shelter. I wanted to continue the tradition I had started.
Anyway, the shelter called a few weeks later to tell me they had rescued 3 Siamese kittens, whom I could go see at the animal hospital. The police had checked out an apartment that had an odd smell, where they found a deceased man and the kittens - 2 male, 1 female. I brought my then 6 year old daughter with me that same day to go see them.
The 2 males were fat and sleepy, lounging together in their cage. They showed absolutely no interest in anyone or anything. The female, known to the staff as "Yukon 3", was in a separate area as she was severely malnourished and dehydrated. She wouldn't be ready for adoption for at least 2 weeks. I asked to see her anyway. When we were about 3 feet away from her cage, she crouched down in her litter box as far as she could go and hissed, spat, and growled with everything she had. I smiled and said I would take her. My daughter looked up at me with big, wide eyes and asked, "You want THAT one? Are you sure?" "Of course," I responded, "She's the one that needs us the most."
For the first year and a half after bringing her home, she was known as the "ghost cat". I renamed her Tasha once I got her home, and only ever saw her around midnight when I got home from work and she was venturing out to eat her food. Yet I was the only one in a family of four that ever saw her. She finally let me touch her at about the 4 month mark.
All that changed when we moved. By the time we had her two years, she was confident and talkative. She has stayed with us, through good times and bad. Now she is older and sleeps more than anything else, but she is still in charge. Just ask her.
Tasha
At age 14, Tasha, a Siamese cross, is by far the oldest and has been our friend the longest. Fifteen years ago I had asked the local shelter to contact me if any Siamese came in. At the time, I had recently lost another long time Siamese friend who came to me from a shelter. I wanted to continue the tradition I had started.
Anyway, the shelter called a few weeks later to tell me they had rescued 3 Siamese kittens, whom I could go see at the animal hospital. The police had checked out an apartment that had an odd smell, where they found a deceased man and the kittens - 2 male, 1 female. I brought my then 6 year old daughter with me that same day to go see them.
The 2 males were fat and sleepy, lounging together in their cage. They showed absolutely no interest in anyone or anything. The female, known to the staff as "Yukon 3", was in a separate area as she was severely malnourished and dehydrated. She wouldn't be ready for adoption for at least 2 weeks. I asked to see her anyway. When we were about 3 feet away from her cage, she crouched down in her litter box as far as she could go and hissed, spat, and growled with everything she had. I smiled and said I would take her. My daughter looked up at me with big, wide eyes and asked, "You want THAT one? Are you sure?" "Of course," I responded, "She's the one that needs us the most."
For the first year and a half after bringing her home, she was known as the "ghost cat". I renamed her Tasha once I got her home, and only ever saw her around midnight when I got home from work and she was venturing out to eat her food. Yet I was the only one in a family of four that ever saw her. She finally let me touch her at about the 4 month mark.
All that changed when we moved. By the time we had her two years, she was confident and talkative. She has stayed with us, through good times and bad. Now she is older and sleeps more than anything else, but she is still in charge. Just ask her.
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