Monday, March 19, 2018

Disrupted Sunday

The building in which I live had to have its cable system examined. This meant a technician entering each apartment and checking the wiring. Originally, they were scheduled to come to my apartment last Wednesday. That was postponed until Sunday. Though this was a day off for me, I preferred the visit then, as it meant that strangers would not be in my home while I was absent. (The resident manager, who knows about my cats, and is a cat-man himself, would have seen that none of my cats escaped, but, as every cat-person knows, that’s not the point of one’s concern.)

The technicians arrived at eleven o’clock, which was considerate. I had wondered if they were going to show up at eight or nine. Sunday is the one day of the week in which I can sleep in and make up for the remainder of the week. But I had breakfasted and was ready for the intrusion.

Fortunately, the work required was restricted to the sitting room, at the corner from which the cable enters the apartment. There was no need to go into other rooms; working in the library would have meant moving not only books but bookcases. I was pleased at the limited work needed.

The beasts were not. Though they (except Cammie) are friendly to visitors and are not overly anxious about them after the first few minutes, a large man with jangling and clanking hardware and equipment is another matter. Most of them made for the bedroom - Josie was already there. Parker, who likes to meet every new person, was so welcoming that I had to put him in the library, to keep him out of the way. This did not please him.

The episode lasted only about fifteen minutes, and all soon returned to normal. Parker was disappointed, and the others were relieved. Recovery from their ordeal could begin. A relaxing Sunday lie ahead.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

The Return of the Sun

Though we in southern Alberta - and many other places, it seems - have been hit with one snowfall after another this winter, the year is advancing and spring is nearly here.

With the change from daylight saving time - or to it, possibly - there is more sunlight in the afternoon. More importantly - because it is beyond the control of mankind - the Earth is tilting in our favour again, and we are receiving the rays of our personal star more directly now. The cats are enjoying this development.

The sun is shining into the cosy apartment in greater abundance these days, and the beasts are not slow to take advantage of it. Cammie, in particular, is enjoying it. She seems to spend half of her time snoozing in the warmth of the heated cat-beds, and the other half snoozing in the warmth of the sunshine. These are the days when I envy the life of a cat.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Daylight Wasting Time

The change from (or to; I can never keep that straight) Daylight Saving Time last weekend resulted in the usual inconvenience and confusion at the cosy apartment. It would not have been as troublesome if I didn’t have two diabetic cats.

Every day, I wake at 5.35 a.m. On weekdays, it is because I have to go to work, so I inject Tucker and Parker with their insulin about half an hour later, after the insulin has warmed sufficiently to be given. I also scoop the litter-boxes and feed the beasts. On holidays and other days off, I wake at 5.35 a.m. as well, because I need to give the insulin at the same time each day. When I needn’t go to work, I normally go back to bed for a couple of hours.

This past Sunday, I woke at 5.35, according to my bedside clock, and began my routine. You can no doubt see where this is going. I soon realised that it was indeed 5.35, but the new 5.35, which meant that, by the ‘insulin schedule’, I was an hour early. I was told when Tucker was diagnosed with diabetes that the insulin could be given within an hour on either side of the correct time for the injection. But I thought this morning that a full hour might be too much. So I went back to bed, for half an hour.

I rose again at what my bedside clock told me was six a.m. - five a.m., by the ‘insulin schedule’. I left the insulin out to warm to room temperature; that takes about half an hour. I then administered it to the boys at 5.30 by the old schedule - only half an hour off - and then went back to bed, again. That evening, their doses were given at six p.m. It was an hour behind the schedule, but it had arrived there by two half-hour increments, which I felt would be a sufficiently mild change.

In fact, I probably could have given Tucker and Parker their medicine an hour early right from the start with no ill effects. But I didn’t want to take the chance. However, my actions resulted in a disruption of the day at its beginning, and I don’t think it - or I - recovered properly. Sunday was followed by the work-week, which of course destroys any attempt to catch up on my rest, so I will sleep properly only this coming weekend.

As I like to say at this time of year, “Only two and a half months until my holidays…”

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Josie and the Water-bowls

Josie likes to see the water-bowls filled. She will drink from them immediately they are recharged. When I initially noticed this propensity on her part, I was mildly worried that it represented an increased consumption of water. But, in fact, my Chubs does not drink an inordinate amount, from what I can determine. She merely likes freshness.

When she sees me filling a bowl, especially the big one kept in the bedroom by the door, she will come over to its spot and await its descent, often with one of her little scratchy cries. She then helps herself to some of the cold, clean liquid. She almost always drinks from a newly charged bowl, though she rarely consumes much at such a time. She does now and then take a long, satisfying draught, but usually after meals. Other instances are just for the taste.

As are other cat-owners, I am continually concerned with my beasts’ drinking habits; cats never drink enough water. I don’t want to see them take in too much – a possible sign of physical issues – nor do I wish them to imbibe too little, as cats chronically cheat themselves of what they need. So I am pleased to watch the Great White drink whenever she likes. Small quantities add up, and drinking a few swallows just for the enjoyment of it is fine with me.

Friday, March 9, 2018


Sometimes cats have the most pensive expressions. I wonder of what they are thinking, or if they are thinking at all. Perhaps they are merely vegetating, as we do sometimes - too often. Are they remembering an incident from the past? Pondering something they have seen? My orange foster-cat is probably trying to calculate how long it will be until his next meal. He would be tough to beat in a card game, though, because he has the perfect Parker-face…

Thursday, March 8, 2018

She Talks in My Sleep

Dreams are interesting things. I enjoy my dreams, as the events that occur in them are usually much more exciting than what occurs in real life.

I recall that a few nights ago, I was listening to someone speak in a dream I was having. She - I can’t remember whether it was a man or woman, but I will refer to her as a female for convenience - was saying something that eventually resolved itself into a repeated phrase, a short one, uttered over and over; I don’t recollect what was actually said. I slowly worked my way toward consciousness after this and, as I did, the phrase became incoherent, the voice more nasal and gravelly, until, as I woke, it became the voice of Cammie, out in the sitting room, talking to one of her toys.


The princess’s conversation became part of my subconscious world, like something from Alice in Wonderland. It’s funny how dreams accommodate stimuli from the waking life. Though, if one thinks about it, it is not strange. After all, we cat-people do everything we can to include our cats in every facet of our lives. Why not in our dreams, too?