Post 274: a year ago today…

Mom as a teenager.

Mom as a teenager.

Sallows Military Museum

The Sallows Military Museum originally was the bathhouse to the swimming pool where Mom taught hundreds, maybe thousands, to swim.

mom at swimming pool

The bath house at the new swimming pool is named for Mom.

Mom

Mom

One year ago today, this time in fact (a little after 4 AM), I received the call from the hospital in Scottsbluff notifying me that Mom had died in the night. I had the sad duty of calling my brother and sisters with the news. She was just a few weeks short of 99 years old. Her 100th birthday would have been February 24th this year.

Jean R. A. McKenzie Thomas, 02-24-14 ~ 01-05-13.

Post 473: very cozy arrangements

What a week! Andy scared Dougy, who scratched me trying to get away from my lap, where I was petting him. I called both cats “bad boys”, which didn’t faze Andy, who’s proud of his “bad boy” status! Dougy was upset for a day, though he slowly resumed his ways.

Yesterday, in fact, Dougy was very clingy, couldn’t get enough of me. For example, he took over my computer workspace and wouldn’t “scootch” over so I could use it without the constant pressure of a happy cat reasserting his claim on me.

I was glad the scratch episode is officially over. Dougy is, after all, my “good boy”!

When Dougy was a kitten, October 2011:

Dougy still thinks he fits where he did as a kitten.

Dougy still thinks he fits where he did as a kitten.

Now that Dougy is a big boy:

Dougy still wants to "scootch" up on my arm like he did when he was a kitten, but it takes some thought.

Dougy still wants to “scootch” up on my arm like he did when he was a kitten, but it takes some thought.

Gad! Somebody grew up to be a hunky cat!

Gad! Somebody grew up to be a hunky cat!

Post 272: simple pleasures

My cat Andy is, if anything, a terror when he takes something on. Watch as he vanquishes mere strips of paper, licking the first one, then killing the second one dead!

Post 271: upset

Things go mostly well here, but there are times that show even this household has its moments!

Yesterday, I was in my glider, Dougy was on his ottoman. He is a great big soft furball, and pleasant to pet or hold. He loves the former, and is not real thrilled about the latter.

I’ve learned not to hold either Andy or Dougy longer than they feel comfortable. In past, when they were kittens getting over an illness caused by ingesting an infected grasshopper, they had many baths. Many. In addition, Dougy had to have eye drops for an infection in his left eye a couple of times. They associate being held with stuff they don’t like!

Aw, well. I associate holding them with something I do like, so I hold them a little bit until they start to get wiggly or act distressed. Little by little, they tolerate more holding. Especially since they haven’t had to have a “poop bath” in nearly a year and a half!

They remember, though, they remember….

Yesterday, again, I was in my glider, Dougy was on his ottoman. He was irresistible! I had to hold him! I scooped him off the ottoman, which required prying his front claws from the fabric since he knew what was about to happen: “Don’t love me! NO! Don’t pick me up! You washed me. Washed me in water! NOOOOOO! And you just might do it again!”

Such drama!

I calmed Dougy down with a head rub, then I rolled him on his back to cradle him like a child. Bad move! He associates that position with eye drops! Rats! What started out as a good moment, now required some readjustment of his position to one more comfortable: topside up, and faced out so he could leave at will. For the moment, all was well, then, out of nowhere, Andy hops up onto the side table with a loud clatter! Dougy, frightened, breaks away from my hold and claws my chest with his hind paws in the process.

Andy has lots of practice being a bad boy!

Andy has lots of practice being a bad boy!

I got out of the chair, and shook my index finger at Dougy: “Bad boy! You are a very bad boy, Dougy!” He ran into the next room. I returned to Andy, by now on my new computer chair that he’s clawed up, where he was, well, clawing up my new computer chair: “You are a very bad boy, too!” Then he ran off to the next room.

I went to the bathroom to clean my wounds and bandage them if needed (it wasn’t), and I reminded the boys they were very bad boys when they came in to watch.

The rest of the day, Dougy acted very sad. He would come around and look like he wanted to get on the ottoman, but then he’d walk away. I tried to encourage him up. By this time, of course, I realized he wasn’t a bad boy, he’d just reacted to Andy’s noisy arrival, and I just happened to be holding him at the time. I reassured him he wasn’t a bad boy, that I was sorry! (I am, too! Poor Dougy is more sensitive to criticism than Andy.)

I got the feather toy out. Well, an extra long feather toy session, and Dougy felt a lot better. I could tell! But not enough to get on the ottoman again. Andy, though, got over it very fast, and stretched out on the end table shortly after “the incident”. He’s cool!

This morning, Andy had a hearty breakfast of trout-salmon mix wet food. In fact, he ate Dougy’s share, too. I fixed more for Dougy since he’d been in the bathroom on the towel in front of the shower when I put the food out. The boys tend to eat together when the food’s on one plate, take turns eating if the food’s on separate plates. Today, the food was on two plates, and Dougy was slow to come in.

I sat down to watch the news, the boys came into the front room to assume their usual places, Andy on the end table, and Dougy, with a little prompting, on the ottoman!

I reminded him that he is a good boy, brushed him (which he likes), and rubbed his nose. For good measure, I got out the feather toy, and played with him for an extra long time! Dougy is doing fine again. Andy got over scolding shortly after the incident happened. The claw marks barely show today, no infection since I know better to clean this type of injury quickly and thoroughly.

They are good boys! I know that, but I hope they understand that, too.

Post 270: same old, same old

One nice thing about cats is they are very, very set in their routines! If you don’t mind the 3 AM wake-up call, living with Andy and Dougy mostly is an easy thing. The only fault Andy has is a thing for clawing my new leather-covered very expensive computer chair. Dougy has his sofa and his ottoman that get the claw treatment.

Thanks to Andy, Louie the Ginger Cat as Captain Me-Ow is tilted in his frame! To live with cats is to accept a certain level of chaos and destruction!

Thanks to Andy, Louie the Ginger Cat as Captain Me-Ow is tilted in his frame! To live with cats is to accept a certain level of chaos and destruction!

Oh well! Suck it in, Doug! Kitties WILL be kitties!

So, because cats are very, very set in their routines, it came as no surprise that Dougy was on my bed meowing emphatically at slightly before 3 AM this New Year’s Day: “Get up! Get up! It’s ‘feed the kitty time’! NOW!”

Andy stretched out, sphinx-like and as inscrutable, in a dresser drawer I leave open (for the cats, of course). His intent, though, was not in doubt. He was there to back up Dougy if I didn’t get up. Meow!

So I did. “Feed the kitty time, boys,” I think I said out loud as we scrambled over each other to the kitchen. Of that there was no doubt!

Fed, the kitties and I went in the front room to watch the news. Well, I watch the news, and they take over their favorite perches, to sleep. By this time, I’m wide awake, so it’s good I’ve learned to go to bed at sundown so I get some sleep before “feed the kitty time”!

Here they are: Dougy on the ottoman, and Andy stretched out on the side table! The kitties must be fed. Yep. Now we sleep in front of the guy we woke up at 3 AM!

Here they are: Dougy on the ottoman, and Andy stretched out on the side table! The kitties must be fed. Yep. Now we sleep in front of the guy we woke up at 3 AM!