Two Feet Away from Being Hidden

Andante has been taking lessons from Moxy on hiding…

Yellow Fuzzball

Presto has Rattle-mouse - with whom he is playing fetch with his new people - but his brother Largo has his favourite toy, too. This is Yellow Fuzzball.

Largo often brings Yellow Fuzzball to me. He drops it at my feet, and wants me to throw it. He chases after it and brings it back or, sometimes, bats it about. He’s not as worried about it as Presto was with Rattle-mouse - perhaps Yellow Fuzzball can take better care of itself - but he looks for it whenever he doesn’t have it, and seems annoyed when one of his siblings plays with it.

It’s funny what animals will become attached to. I suppose in that, they are not much different than humans.

Irony for Coda

Coda continues to make progress with human interaction. I can touch him easily while he eats or plays, but only recently have I been able to touch him at other times. He doesn’t always allow this, but I think he is at the awkward stage of wanting to be petted and stroked, but not wanting to be touched by a human. You can’t have it both ways, little friend.

A Blustery Day's Viewing

It was windy today, as it often is here, especially at this time of year. But it was a warm wind, so we’re not feeling too much of autumn’s temperatures yet. But the trees are having their leaves whipped off in large numbers now. While the colours of the season don’t last long on the branches, they do provide plenty for cats to look at on blustery days.

Largo and Andante are taking in the action outside.

Presto Begins His Adventure

Presto will be going on a trial-adoption tomorrow. He leaves about five o’clock. His new home has two female cats about his age. The humans are a woman and her two teenaged daughters. It seems very promising.

I would have preferred the Tempos going together in some permutation, but that was a long short. Presto - all of them - will adapt quickly to a new environment; kittens usually do and, despite their size, the Tempos are still kittens, just half a year old.

We’ll see how this turns out, but I expect it will be a success. If it isn’t, Presto will always have a place at the Cosy Cabin. A part of him will always stay here, anyway.

The Sounds of (Temporary) Silence

A rather extraordinary thing occurred over the long weekend. As readers may know by now, weekends - long weekends, especially - are when things go wrong with the cats’ health here at the Cosy Cabin. This was not serious, so I believe, but it was unusual: Imogen lost her voice.

She is not a frequent talker, but she and I have some conversations, usually when she wants some petting. She will let out a very short “Anhh”, often a number of them, one after another. I noticed on Saturday, however, that Imo was making no sounds other than a raspy expression of air, just like a human who had a sudden attack of laryngitis.

I looked up such a thing on the internet, and several veterinary sites explained that it could be anything from the result of screaming too much (not the answer here) to a minor infection, to cancer on the vocal chords. I thought it rather abrupt for the effects of cancer (though I suppose they must make themselves known at some point, and that would no doubt appear sudden), and quite odd for an infection. Where would it have come from? Why were the other beasts not affected? That Coda had brought it to the Cosy Cabin seemed unlikely: he has been here since late August, has had no physical contact with Imogen, and plenty of physical contact with the Tempos, Moxy and Brazil. Their voices were all unaffected.

Furthermore, Imogen’s eating and activity were unchanged. I thought if her throat were sore, it would be reflected in her level of food consumption. It’s true that sometimes she simply doesn’t want what is served, particularly at breakfast, but that alternates with eating everything and wanting more. Besides, at the height of her laryngitis, or whatever it may have been, she ate very well. She was also playful and rambunctious in the same quantities as normal.

This morning, I noticed that her voice had ‘half-returned’. It was neither her usual sound, nor the strange hoarseness of the weekend. This evening, she seems almost recovered.

The possibility of a vet visit existed, of course, but I thought I would wait on this one; initially, the weekend precluded such a consultation, anyway. And I suspected that a course of antibiotics would have been given ‘just in case’. There would have been little else to be done, I imagine.

Now, of course, I will listen carefully to her sounds, and may take her to the doctor if the episode recurs. For now, she is the same old Miss Silky, right down to the little noises.

Thankful Still

This weekend was the Thanksgiving holiday. I try to be grateful all the time for what I have, but especially at this time of the year. We in the Cosy Cabin have much to be thankful for, starting of course with the Cosy Cabin itself. I have food and shelter, and enough money to continue to provide those, not just for myself but for the cats who live with me. I am happy that I can make homes for the cats here, and contribute to their care and health.

Certainly, I wish for things I don’t have. I bought a lottery ticket recently for a draw that would bring the winner $76,000,000. I didn’t win. I think I should get my money back, frankly; be that as it may, while such wealth - or even much less exaggerated funds - would be useful, they are not necessary, and my principal gratitude would be, I think, in being able to give most of it away.

At this point in my life, I am more acutely aware than I used to be of how many people do not have the comforts that I do. Indeed, many do not have the necessities about which I need not worry. When much of the world is pleased to receive a bag of rice and a cup of clean water for their daily meal, grousing over the blandness of having to choose between two boring dishes for dinner becomes obnoxious, and that simple choice itself becomes a luxury.

So I and the cats will go on being thankful for what we have, for as long as we have it. If there comes a time when we no longer do, then I hope to remember that I have had it good for longer than many have, and have had plenty while many had nothing.