Physical setup: My “comfy chair” in front of a bay window; blackout curtains over window (often closed, especially early morning, since the window faces east); my cat uses my chair (and me) as a stepping block to enter the bay (curtains in the way? Nope. She doesn’t care *heh*); new puppy—all nearly 40# of him, now—on my ottoman staring over my notebook at the bay window my cat has just disappeared into. . . seriously puzzled look on his face: disappearing cat?!?
R.I.P. Best Boy Ever; Welcome On Board, New Guy
New puppy is seriously cutting into my reading time. . . and also seriously increasing my exercise time. Ah, but that’s all to the good.
Transition from outside-only (4 month old Australian Shepherd* pup) to mixed in/out going well. One “accident” on day 1, mostly from nerves/excitement but has responded very well to, first, hourly, then extended time inside/outside, etc. Have the training treats helped? Maaaayyybe. He pays his water bill in the middle of the night just like I do. (Slightly extended “water bill” time to calm him down after his trip outside).
Other: consistent response to new name by end of first full day (smart dog? Could be). Buffaloed by my cat (my Wonder Woman’s cat? Not so much), but as she adapts to CHANGE (very conservative cat), her “brutality” is decreasing—*heh*—and his fear is lessening. We’ll see, eh?
Still missing Best Boy Ever and have to stop myself doing my mom’s thing (calling New Guy by Best Boy Ever’s name), but even though we were offered this pup far sooner than we would have elected on our own to get another dog, he’s helping ease that loss a bit. Just a bit. And the “ghost” of Best Boy Ever is a good trainer’s coach.
Ah! Minor victory. At last he is comfortable going out and descending from the upper deck to the yard below, alone. I can let him spend a wee bit of time roaming the (fenced) back yard alone, then join him for another “exercise session.” *heh*
*Yeh, I know the breed doesn’t come from Australia but was developed (?) in California toward the end of the 19th Century from mysterious antecedents. Still the name of the breed.
Cat Cleaner
Another Trip to Serendip
(As noted on this blog before, and sung to “Mohammed Ali (floats like a butterfly, etc.)”)
“Katrina, Katrina the cat,
Floats like a butterball, ‘cos she is fat. . . ”
She also had a couple of other issues that have improved in recent months, but not completely disappeared: many, many skin bumps (no detected insect infestation, though frequent flea/lice comb uses) and pretty common vomiting. Still ate like a horse–her food and the other cats’–and kept the pounds packed on, though. Tried lots of things, including diet variations and topical skin treatments (which resulted in angry red rashes abating, but not in eliminating the irritations or the skin blemishes entirely). In fact, thanks to the abatement of the angry rashes, which had seemed to quite literally drive her insane–seriously!–she seemed quite happy, apart from the skin bumps and the irritation they caused her, along with the vomiting.
Other problem: finding a food our 18-year-old male cat would eat more than one bowl of. Sure, new bag of food or new can (of new kind), and he’d eat some while it was “new” to him, but then turn his nose up on further offerings. And we had tried all kinds of the expensive stuff.
So, my Wonder Woman saw a bag of dry food that proclaimed it was for sensitive skin and stomachs. Not even expensive. “Why not?” we thought.
He has liked it for three weeks now. And Katrina’s skin and stomach issues? No vomiting from the first serving on, and within a week of starting on the new food, the skin blemishes almost completely disappeared. Now? Gone.
Hadn’t even hoped that the food would appeal to the old guy, and had little hope it would impact katrina’s issues, but there you are: both positively affected.
Oh, and Pixel (lil rescue kitty)? Makes no difference to her. She already ate anything we put down for her (although she more eagerly eats dry food. *shrugs* go figure) and had no apparent stomach or skin problems. She likes the new food anyway.
Happy trip to Serendip.
Cleanliness is Next to. . . “Catliness”?
While our other two cats are “handleable” in a tub or sink of warm water (neither like it, but they will submit to baths), I’m not even going to try bathing Pixel–lil rescue kitty–given the way she fights even just being picked up. Oh, she does lurv climbing in my lap of her own volition, and will even allow me to carry her without much of a fuss, for a very short time, IF she has first climbed into my lap and been properly attended to for a while, but being picked up is a no-no.
But. Bath. Ah!
Unscented “baby wipes.” (Found some for a buck at my fav “fell off the back of a truck” store, so. . . )
Yep. It was just more petting, to her.
That was last night. She’s sooooo fluffy today. *heh*
Natural Selection Data Points
Quite apart from the Darwin Awards, possible evidence of at least one of the mechanisms whereby natural selection seems to work can be observed as roadkill. Obviously, it seems, the less fit of any species is likely to be what we see/drive by (or create) as roadkill: animals that weren’t smart enough, observant enough, or quick enough to get out of the way of oncoming traffic. (Strikes on scavenger birds/animals making a meal of roadkill are particularly ironic.)
But there are other data that can be intriguing apart from the easily-observed negative data of roadkill. Yesterday, just at dusk, I was on a two-lane rural highway at the posted 55mph speed, when I spotted movement ahead of me on the far side of the verge of the oncoming lane. It was a doe, stopping, her head turned to look straight at me. Her gaze followed me as I passed, and, in my rear view mirror I saw her head swivel, apparently checking for traffic, before she bounded across the road.
Deer learning “Stop, Look, and Listen”? Survival of the smartest?
😉
Why? It Does Not Matter. . .
. . .why it crosses the road.
On one of our trips to OK for family stuff, we had a quick refresher on what “rural OK town” means. During passage through town, which entailed negotiating a couple of (completely unnecessary, as far as I could tell) traffic lights, traffic (such as it was–our car and another) came to a halt as a chicken made its lackadaisically wandering way across main street in the lil county seat town. No hurries. Apparently traffic (such as it may be) ALWAYS comes to a complete stop whenever the chicken crosses the road. . .
Passages
Our Olde Ginger Tomcat has for nearly all his life wanted to stretch out beside me, about as close as he could tuck in whenever I sat in anything that provided the room to do so, but not sought to be a lap cat. . . until recently. Now, if I’m sitting and there’s room between a laptop and my torso to allow a lap, he will crawl in and give me “lap massages” with spontaneous purring, whether I pet him or not.
Passages of life for an Olde Tom, I guess.
Meanwhile, taking up almost his former positioning (but with a cat’s width space away), Lil Rescue Kitty will lay there cooing like a dove. Sometimes the Olde Guye will slip between and take up his former preferred position, but just sometimes.
It does make typing on a notebook. . . interesting when he gets fully across my lap. He seems to think my typing motions are petting motions and butts my wrists. Some interesting “head butt typos” sometimes result.
Aaaaaand now, after 30 minutes of “lap time,” he’s decided to head for “his space” beside my left leg. He’ll now probably stay there until I head off to get some tasks done away from the computer. No purring now, though.
Olde Guye 10 years ago:
More “Catblogging”
Well, Pixel had a real romp playing in a 10-gallon transparent plastic storage tub this morning. Pooped out, now.
