Friday, November 25, 2011

Thanksgiving is For Cats, Too!

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!

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.

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!

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.