A Feline Friday Edition

I've not taken part in Feline Friday before, but am seeing several posts today, so thought I'd share and link up at Sarah Did It.

For as long as I can remember I've either had cats or been around cats. My farm grandma had barn cats that would stand on their hind legs to lap at the milk she'd squirt from the cows nipples while milking. I always thought that funny. With barn cats you get kittens, and I remember snuggling with them often too.

This is my sister with one of the kitties. The date indicates Oct 55 but that would be a reprint date; it is more likely summer of '53 or '54.

Notice the grandmother's flower garden quilt in the background on the right?

In 1963 we had a mama named Clementine. My brothers are holding two of her babies. It was the first time I recall actually seeing the kittens being born.

Me with Clementine in 1961.

My brother with Tommy. Tommy had a full tail, but it was all kinked up and looked like a ball.

There were many other kitties during my childhood: Kitten, Tommy, Many Toes (she was poly-dactyl), Monkey, and those who were either never named, or whose names are long forgotten and who were never photographed. Such as it was in the 1950s and '60s in rural Oregon.

In adulthood, and on my own, I've had Booger, Wanna, Spooky, Steely, Aja, Skitz, Monster, Fanner, Raven, Flame. Some of these I didn't have for long but Aja I had for 16 years. She was special, a long-haired gray and white girl. She was brought to the place I worked by a lady who was headed to the pound. She was only about five weeks old and spent the rest of the day either in my sweater pocket or curled up on my desk. As a still young kitty she traveled in the back of a camper to Colorado, at one point hiding so well that I thought she'd escaped through the window I found open. Some hundreds of miles later at a stop, my then-husband discovered her and brought her to me - I cried, and had been crying for hours. She was a true lap cat. I won't explain her demise, but I was heart-broken.

Skitz was a solid grey short-hair. Sadly, I never really liked her, but she lived with me for over 18 years. She played fetch and would not give up searching if the object was tossed where she didn't immediately find it. She had a rather Siamese type voice...maybe that's why I didn't like her. She also sprayed my coffee pot once!! Yep, some females will spray, even when fixed.

This is Monster. He was a feral kitty that we took in and tamed. His mama and several batches of her kittens roamed the neighborhood for a couple years before finally capturing them all. We tried to tame one of his sisters, but she never warmed up to us. But Monster became a strictly indoor kitty for a couple years. When my daughter came to live with us for awhile, she brought two cats with her and we decided it was time to allow Monster and his sister back outside. They both kept out of sight for a couple days, but eventually returned. Monster would come back in the house and he'd sleep on the bed all day, occasionally letting me hold him for a short time on my lap. The sister would never let us get close to her again and eventually got really sick, was trapped, and put down. Monster was 12 when we last saw him. He liked to be outside at night so as we always did, I'd let him out the night before I was to leave on an Oregon trip. He hadn't returned by the time I left in the morning and my husband said he never did while I was gone. Sadly, we think perhaps he fell victim to a predator. I like to think that while he was with us, he had many more years spent in comfort, than he'd have had had he been left feral.

Pure sweetness.

Fanner, sweet Fanner, our special-needs kitty. One summer, Nick and I went to Oregon and visited a high school friend. They had a grass-seed business and at their shop had a mama with kittens. Fanner was pretty much the runt of the litter, but was female and had extra toes. We fell in love with her and she with us. Her fur was as soft as rabbit fur. Within a short time, we realized she had something wrong. Thinking it was something she ate (she was allergic to fish), we didn't think too much of it. But then she'd wobble and her nose and mouth would always be wet. We took her to one vet and he wasn't able to determine the reason for her problems. We then took her to a doctor who only treated cats and she was able to determine that Fanner's condition was caused by liver shunts, in her case, congenital. She would have seizures and later developed bladder stones which we had surgically removed once, but they redeveloped within six months and the vet said it would be too hard on her to go through surgery again. Her medications were no longer as effective and after much agonizing decided it was best for her to say good-bye. That was one of the most painful decisions I've ever had to make. Did I mention we all absolutely loved this kitty?

Sleeping sweetly on the step.

goofy Raven

 So as we were preparing to say good-bye to Fanner, a few months before at Thanksgiving, a neighbor came over with this little itty bitty black and white kitty. He's was out in his truck on a local road and saw this black and white something run across the road in front of him. Not knowing if it was a baby skunk or a kitty, and being an animal lover, he stopped, found it (thankfully a kitty), looked around for any others or a mama and finding none, brought it home where he cared for it with a bottle for a week or so. We welcomed here into our family. The vet said she was probably no more than seven weeks old. We'd already had her for one by then, so she was probably only about five weeks when the neighbor found her. She has a developmental birth defect of her eyelid and her eyes are a bit crossed, but otherwise is quite healthy...and chubby!

Raven

I marveled that she had the black dot next to her nose just like Tommy from my childhood. She plays fetch, but not as much now as she's gotten older, just turned seven. I find I'm a bit allergic to her as if I rub my eyes after petting her, they itch badly.

Flaming Star aka "Flame"

After Fanner was gone, and Raven was still only a few months old, I thought it would be good to be a two cat household, so we adopted Flame from a local rescue. She was there with siblings but we only wanted one and it was Nick's pick as it would be his kitty. Well, kitties pick their humans, and Flame in the last couple years has pretty much picked me as her human. Raven has chosen Marty, so Nick enjoys them when they choose to spend time with him. Flame will divide her time more than Raven. The two kitties haven't really bonded with each other and only play together/chase each other on occasion. Thankfully they don't fight with each other.

That's it on my cats. I'm thankful for all of them. I think if it were up to me, I'd have more, and they'd be indoor/outdoor, but I know there's a lot of risk with that, and heartache when they disappear so we limit to the two, and keep them strictly indoors. The same neighbor we got Raven from has some young kitties running around his yard again - likely feral. A couple had visited our back yard a few days ago and one got up into the tree chasing a squirrel. The other one went 'home', and the one in the tree spent over 24 hours there before it finally found it's way down. 

I'm chuckling right now as Flame has decided she rather likes watching The Spiderwick Chronicles!

Still Chewing, and High Anxiety

OK, so my last DOOW post talked about eating elephants 'one bite at a time'.  Well, those bites are pretty small, but I'm still chewing though some require lots of chewing. Progress is happening, yet it seems barely visible.

Oh, and on top of all that, how many remember way back when, 2012 to be exact, when we went through our bathroom remodels? We were on board to get started on the kitchen in early 2013. Just think, I could've been enjoying that new kitchen for the last nearly-six years, but I responded badly to an issue, and in my sinful response, wanted nothing to do with proceeding with the kitchen and we never signed the contract. Then, God had other plans for life events which kept us from proceeding, and fast forward to recent days, I've been complaining a lot about the kitchen's condition, every appliance is on its last leg, the base of the faucet is lifting from the badly chipped and stained sink (no amount of cleanser or bleach has helped), cupboards (ca. 1966) are showing their age (cheap construct to begin with), the funds have been set aside for all these years, and the burden of knowing it needs to get done is weighing me down, and my estimated life (aside from God's plan) span left on this earth is dwindling, I finally made the call to our contractor to re-bid. 

My anxiety threshold is at its peak, and I am so not ready for all the decisions that need to be made, but that first bite of this elephant needs to be taken. I've pretty much concluded that the less input my hubs has, the better...it will be better for us that way. The first bite was setting up the contractor appointment, and he'll be here at 4:30 today (PST). I've already been informed that demo and construction won't be able to start until mid-February at the earliest, so that gives me a deadline date to have all things in place: sorting, clearing, shopping for all the necessary required items, and maybe going to a doctor for anxiety meds (said tongue-in-cheek!).