The Familiar and the Exotic

Cammie’s recovery is complete at last, but her most recent illness, following closely upon the cleaning of the cat-trees (I’m not sure which was the greatest upheaval, in her eyes), has left her with some differences.

Dietically, she has returned to eating more hard-food than soft, which is disappointing to me, as she needs the moisture of the soft-food. I suppose she will eat only so much, and if it is mostly hard kernels, the soft-food will suffer. This was discouraging but not wholly unexpected.

What I find more surprising are changes in her habits. I have already written an entry describing how she is – sometimes – more tolerant of the proximity of her roommates. There is an addendum to that story. The hot weather here continues, and Cammie has taken refuge under the armchairs from time to time. One spot in particular is a favourite resort of Tucker’s, but this day, the princess had claimed it. I wondered how that would affect the roly poly’s leisure. I was taken quite unawares when I saw not only that Tucker had slipped into his spot (well, very close to it, anyway) even with Cammie there, but that the latter did not object.

Then again, Cammie seems to have discovered another comfortable new spot. Specifically, she has taken to lying where I often sit, in a corner of the sitting room couch. This means, of course, as every cat-person knows, that I must find somewhere else. Even when I arrive on the couch first, my little Siamese will periodically jump up on to my lap, which she used to do when she was first growing accustomed to physical contact with me, but rarely did afterward.

It is rather an adventure, living with cats. They are, as I have written before, creatures of habit – until they change those habits. Cammie will still hiss at a cat who is too close to her (across the room is frequently too close), even if that cat is asleep and posing no danger whatsoever. And yet, she may then consent to her personal space being constricted. Bit by bit, the princess is changing. In that she is rather like me, like all humans, altering how we behave, what we do, sometimes imperceptibly. Perhaps that is why so many of us enjoy feline company: these beasts are similar enough to people to be familiar, and different enough to be exotic. Can there be a better description of my Cammie?

The Ferocious Pretender

There are certain things I do with each of my cats. Each beast is different, with a personality all his own, so what I do with each is different. Tucker and I have our own game.

We usually play it while he is sitting in his favourite chair at the dining table. I will feign an attack upon him, and grab his head. He is ready for this manoeuvre, however, and in turn seizes one of my fingers or a thumb with his paw. (Since he has no thumb of his own, his action is not very definitive; I go along with it nonetheless.) My digit he then puts into his mouth, securing it by clamping his teeth upon it. But he doesn’t want to hurt me, so, while I pretend that he can capture a finger, he pretends that he is biting down on it. I cry out in false pain, and he lets me go.

The roly poly one likes this game, happily rubbing his fuzzy moon-face against the spindles of the back of the chair, a sure sign that he is enjoying himself. Sometimes he even purrs as he is tearing the metaphoric flesh from my bones, the ferocious beast.

While cats’ ability at pretence is demonstrated by hunting fake mice and the like, this imaginary battle and its equally imaginary consequences show, I think, a slightly higher capacity for seeing in their minds’ eyes what isn’t really present, for feeling what doesn’t exist. It proves that we don’t need toys to entertain our cats. And we just need them to entertain ourselves.

Excuse Me, Do You Have Anything Warmer?

Tucker’s photo session went well – after I bribed him with treats. I will show the results when they are sent to me. As regards buying the calendar, I will put the information for its acquisition on the side of this blog early next week. Though the calendar has yet to be printed, copies may be ordered at any time now.

In the meanwhile, days are uncomfortable here. The temperature right now is 32˚ Celsius (89.6˚ Fahrenheit) and is expected to reach 37˚C (98.6˚F) next week. That’s body temperature. And, but for one day, it is not predicted to fall below 31˚C at any time during the daylight hours for the next two weeks. It is my opinion that that counts as excessive. Still, we do not suffer the humidity that other parts of the country do, such as southern Ontario. On the other hand, it is not in human nature to think, when one is being beaten with a piece of plywood, ‘at least it’s not a rock’. So I will continue to grumble.

I, and many others, have mentioned numerous times how our cats will sometimes defy the heat and lie in its midst, and the next moment run for the coolest shade they can find. Here is an example of the latter, a photograph taken while I was making the bed. The comforter, usually at the foot of the bed, has been discarded - though someone found it cosy.

In the Merry Month of Tucker

Each year, the Lethbridge PAW Society, the rescue-group to which I belong, brings out a calendar for the following year. Work has started on the calendar for 2018. The design will be all-new but it will feature, as did previous calendars, twelve cats who were adopted from PAW. I have been working my way through mine; last year, I had intended to include Tucker, but he developed Horner’s syndrome and, though otherwise well, one of his eyes had its third lid half-way across it. So his appearance in the calendar was postponed.

A professional photographer has volunteered her time and talent to take the pictures for the calendar, and will be visiting Saturday to capture my roly poly one for posterity. I hope Tucker isn’t too timid to give a good show. I am sure I can keep him from hiding, but as to whether he will be as co-operative tomorrow as he needs to be is another matter. We will see.

The calendar will be available for purchase by September, and one of the months will be taken up with this fellow.

Pieces of Renn

I would have thought the principal shedding period for cats was over. At the cosy apartment, however, the excessive heat that we are experiencing may be inspiring the beasts to greater efforts. And, while most of them are divesting themselves of their extra hair in an unconscious manner, Renn is a cat of another colour.

He seems not to be shedding, strictly writing, any more now than he usually does. But he is grooming himself more, with the result that he is throwing off small clumps of hair everywhere. I am sure my big boy is not suffering from anything except a more noticeable enthusiasm for cleanliness. I keep an eye on overzealousness, of course, and am inspecting his fur more than usual.

In the meantime, Renn is littering the apartment with little bits of his hair. Sometimes it is fluffy; more often, it is thick and damp (or previously damp), from him licking it off his body. I am glad that he likes to keep himself presentable, but I now find bits of him lying all over our home.

Really, it is a small thing to use the vacuum cleaner on the big boy’s refuse. And in return, he maintains a fine-looking and healthy coat - which he enjoys showing off, like this.

Preliminary Preparation for Parker

My foster-cat Parker went to the veterinary hospital yesterday. This was a preliminary visit to his dental procedure. The hospital wanted to provide an estimate of what would need to be done. Parker goes to a different hospital than do the perma-cats, and the procedure there is different, as well. The estimates for the work to be completed on the other beasts are often done when they are brought in for the procedure; if they come in for a check-up and work is seen to be done, an estimate may be made then. In Parker’s case, he has to make two visits: this one and another for the actual procedure. This one did not bring him happiness.

He cried on his way there, was uncomfortable while present and cried on his way home, when most cats are relaxed and know that the worst is behind them. It was a stressful time for the orange boy. But it was necessary, and is now finished for a month. He returns for his dental at the beginning of August.

When he came back home, I put him in the library to relax. I didn’t feed him right away, in case he was too upset to keep food down, and gave him half of his dinner thirty minutes later, the other half a little while after that. But, though he was anxious, he was also hungry and all went smoothly. The day’s events tired him out and he was happy to snooze during the evening.

I wish I could explain to the animals what is happening during doctor’s appointments, and why they are necessary. All I can do is try to calm them as much as possible. I am astonished that they not only continue to trust me after such ordeals, but look to me to protect them during the event itself. I feel inadequate at such times, and am glad that cats seem not to experience their fears and anxieties until faced with them. I’d like to think that humans could learn from that attitude, but the fact that we worry for them about many things is often why cats need not. I believe Parker would agree that it’s a good arrangement - until his next veterinary appointment.

Of Changes

Cammie continues slowly to improve. She is not active right now. One of the lingering effects of Cerenia is lethargy, though it’s difficult to determine if her lying about all day is due to her medicine or her species. In any case, she doesn’t have much reason to go anywhere, as she has eaten too little to make many litter-box trips, and I am bringing her food as a waiter does a restaurant’s favoured customer.

The princess has visited the litter-box, and she continues to eat. She has consumed a few kernels of hard-food, but prefers the soft right now. This won’t add much to her weight, but it is keeping her going. She lets me know when she wants a meal. (It’s funny how we can reach a point in our acquaintance when we can judge what our pets want simply by their stance or how they raise their heads.) I provide her with a portion of food every couple of hours; she is eating all that I give her, and it is staying down. As the portions I dole out are about the same size as she receives for dinner, and she is eating one of these every few hours, Cammie is, in fact, eating more than usual.

I have noticed also that she is being a bit less offensive in her attitudes to the proximity of other cats. This actually began with the cleaning of the cat-trees, which appeared to generate in Cammie a self-imposed search for different quarters. I took these photographs over the last little while, some at night (which accounts for the flash.) The picture of her and Parker is most interesting: I heard hissing and growling, and, knowing that Parker was loose, I hurried to the sitting room. Unless there is a physical debate occurring, I don’t separate the cats, but talk to them, pet them and try to calm them. After doing so, Cammie seemed to acquiesce in the sturdy-boy’s presence.

What with clean cat-trees, sickness and a foster-cat, these are interesting times in the cosy apartment.