Tag Archives: Dougy

My cats like to help.

My new all-in-one-machine came today. I had lots of help unpacking it. Andy wanted all the crinkly stuff, and Dougy couldn’t wait for me to empty the shipping box before he tried it out! At one point, Andy ran off with a crinkly packet with instructions in it. He did that with the crinkly packet of instructions for the Dyson DC41 animal vacuum, too. It’s his “thang”! While I chased Andy for the instructions, Dougy prepared to swan dive into the packing box, but I stopped him just in time!

Even with the help from my boys, the installation went reasonably smoothly, as these things go. I didn’t blaspheme even once! (Of course not – this is church stuff in the print queue! I used standard street terms to smooth a rough spot or two. Ha!) It is nice to have a modern all-in-one machine again.

There is a deadline on when my friend needs her bulletins and study materials. I wanted to finish all my printing today if possible. And I did! It is fair to note, however, that Andy continued to help me (see video),

and Dougy freaked out because I made him get out of his box, one that didn’t exist in his universe until today. Really! Who wants cat hair – or butt! – on their church bulletin? It’s the one I saved to keep the printed material neat until I can give it to my friend.

Dougy was so cute, though, pouting like a kitten each time I lifted him out of the box. After I folded the flaps in, he tried to open them up. It concerned me he might do claw damage to the printed materials, so I put the box up high, where I probably will forget it until the friend I did the printing for calls me up and asks, “Doug, did you get that material printed?”

Anyone who’s raised kids won’t feel sorry for me putting up with two nosy cats while I work, but I want all of you who have cats or live alone to sigh, now, and say, “Awww! Poor thing!”

Cool cats.

Today, it is 92 degrees F (34 degrees C) outside, but all the kids are back in school, the life guards back in college, the pool drained. Tonight’s paper reported the local swimming pool closed for the season last weekend.

The cat brothers and I are OK with the weather since we have air conditioning if it gets too grim, though I turn it on only when the inside temperature hits the low 80s (27 and over, C). If family were here, I’d probably leave the air conditioning on, but I don’t need it so much as use it when things get too sweaty, when it approaches 100 (32).

I turn it on more for the boys’ comfort than mine. I guess Persian cats need a little air conditioning! They feel cool to the touch, though. Maybe they thermoregulate using that thick hair as insulation from the outside heat. I don’t know. They don’t pant or drink more water than usual, so must be comfortable.

I’ve noticed one thing about cats, though. They are able to find the warmest or the coolest place in a room, depending on the season.

In summer, at night, Andy sleeps by a fan in my bedroom. There’s an open window by the fan, too. Dougy chooses a spot on the floor in the bathroom, which is cool to the touch.

In winter, the boys sleep right where the heat from the radiant heaters is most toasty. Another happy spot is in the pet carriers, which have old towels in them, along with a little security from things that go bump in the dark.

Regardless of season, though, my boys are cool cats!

tummy upset and mousies

Dougy had a little tummy upset this morning. I heard him “horking” and tried to get to him before…! Yuck!

My experience with cats and tummy upsets is they always, always gravitate toward carpet to puke. That’s exactly what Dougy did. I cleaned it up, tossed it. Dougy went back to doing cat things, apparently feeling better.

(I’ll keep an eye on him the rest of the day, however….)

Yesterday, I put on the right shoe of a pair I’d not worn for some time. My toes struck something, which I shook out of the shoe: One of the boys had cached a kitty toy in my shoe! It’s odd-looking. No idea what it’s supposed to be.

I showed the toy to Andy. He grabbed it with his mouth and ran. For the next several minutes, Andy ran with the toy, head up, ears back, and Dougy chased after him trying to capture the toy!


Here’s a video of the boys, a week short of three months old, playing with the famous mousie toy.

The last time I saw that specific behavior, the boys were weeks old, and the toy was a little mouse that was almost too big for their mouths. They looked so cute and “grown up” with the mousie in their mouths.

It kept them busy for long spells each day until one of the boys cached the mousie behind some things stored in a corner. That’s where I found the toy last week. This week, after amusing the boys for a few days, the toy is cached once again, to stay out of play until one of the boys or I stumble on it. Or it turns up in my shoe!

@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@+@

Dougy just stopped by the computer to stretch and greet me with a hearty >meow<. He feels better, and I feel better about him!

treat time

Andy was a bit late for treat time this morning. I don’t know what happened. He’s as reliable as the atomic clock in Ft. Collins when it comes to treat time.

Oh well! I got up to stretch my legs and take some dishes to the sink from the cats’ breakfast. Andy heard me moving about, and ran over to his “hinting place”, a slice of cottonwood branch from a large tree that blew down in the city park a of couple years ago or so. For whatever reason, the boys love to sit on this piece of tree. Andy especially likes it, and runs over there to let me know he wants his treats, NOW!

Anything you say, Andrew! You’re the cat.

whatever…

“Blah Monday” struck today.

The antidote to this malady is simple: Change routine a little, just enough to sink the “Blah ship”. You know, the ship captured in the middle of the Pacific Ocean without wind for its sails.

Ice cream for breakfast might help!

Ice cream for breakfast might help!

Urg. Even a little change from routine takes motivation. “Blah Monday” is all about limp will, no plan, inertia. I can’t predict if I’ll even get through this post, I have so little…um…whatever.

I’ll try two things, though. I’ll turn off the news. Here in Rutlandia 2013, I can’t get excited about which undeclared Republican candidate is going to run against the undeclared probable Democratic candidate in 2016. Or if the predicted 99 degree Fahrenheit high for tomorrow is because of a natural process or me burning fossil fuel in my large, white American car. What I’d give for a man-bites-dog story just now! No spin, just a simple goofy story of no interest or impact on my life! Insert a “smiley face” here!

"Get a grip, man!"

“Get a grip, man!”

Oh, I said “two things” to beat the grip of “Blah Monday”, didn’t I? Turning off the news is a good start, but that just leaves time freed up for something else.

I could play with the cat brothers, but Dougy and Andy decided to break routine and find a place to sleep off their blahs. I mean, it’s time for the kitty treats and Andy – little Andy! – can’t build up enough energy to break the “Blah Monday” spell and trot over to my computer to whine and kitty-eye me into submission to put out the Greenies. How bad it that?

I think I’ll put on some light classical music and read a book, a light book. I know. If I turn off the news, too, that’s three things. Whatever.

!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+!

UPDATE: I nearly finished the book, and played public radio instead of a CD. It didn’t start out very well. I no sooner sat down, turned on the radio, opened the book than the roar of the lawn service’s mower began. That went on for a long time, but, once it ended, I settled into a lovely day of reading and music! No more “Blah Monday”!

17 August: Black Cat Appreciation Day

DrNworb (also Doug) and his wife live in Vancouver, where they enjoy the company of their cats and regular foster families of cats found abandoned in that city. Aside from their good work providing a foster home till permanent homes are found for their cat families, they make charming, touching, amusing, great videos of their cats and cat charges, easily my favorite cat videos on YouTube!

Here’s the most recent video in their series, an in depth look at Panther, their black cat, and a reminder that the 17th of August is Black Cat Appreciation Day! Take a look:

In celebration of the day, here’s a link to other people involved in cat rescue, specifically black cats: https://www.facebook.com/blackcatrescue?hc_location=timeline

Technically, Andy and Dougy aren’t black cats, something that is readily obvious when they plop down and take a belly up snooze: The boys are greyish cats with black faces, ears, legs, tails, and… maybe I should think of them as black cats! Never mind. For this one day, they are honorary black cats. I’ll treat them like little princes. Oops! I already do! No celebration there. I’ll have to think about how to ramp it up a bit for the boys on this big day.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Indonesian national flag.

The Indonesian national flag.

Today is Indonesian Independence Day, too. Though the Dutch regard a later day as the day of Indonesian Independence, 17 August 1945 is the date the Indonesians themselves celebrate. It all began with this short announcement from Sukarno, their first President:

soekarno
Bung Karno (Brother or Comrade Karno) was Indonesia’s President from 1945 through 1967.

I used to write an Indonesian boy when I was a kid. We carried on a 35 year correspondence.

Donner und Blitzen!

FLASH!! Ker-BOOOOM! Crackle!

I swore I’d just been struck by lightning, the 20 megaton blast of thunder followed so soon after the flash that lit the sky!

“Whatever Ye Gods have in mind for me tonight, it will be fast and dramatic. That one was too close,” I thought. Then I noticed two scaredy cats at my feet. (“At least I’m not the only one scared ‘snotless’ here,” I told myself. “That was dang close!”) [I cleaned that quote way up!]

Andy ran when I leaned over to pick him up. He chose a spot under the table, dark and secure by his reckoning, safe from the storm. Dougy let me pick him up to soothe him with petting and words. He wasn’t so eager to get down this time! I felt a bit calmer myself, thanks to the blood pressure-lowering benefits of petting a cat.

We may or may not have been in danger inside the house, but we each found a way to feel we were safe. Any port in a storm, so to speak. When I went to bed, I had two cats join me, and they slept a little closer to me than usual. Honestly, I felt better because of that, too!

Fancy this!

You know you are a cat person when you receive your first issue of CAT FANCY magazine. Yes, I subscribe!

I enjoy the cat health information, the photos of all sorts of beautiful and exotic cats, information on grooming, new cat toys and furniture. I don’t read CAT FANCY, I absorb it through my skin.

"What else is Dougy hiding from me?" I wondered.

“What else is Dougy hiding from me?” I wondered.

The only thing missing from my favorite cat magazine to date has been NO FEATURES ON PERSIANS, clearly a terrible oversight, negligence, an affront to all Persian human companions and their Persian cat buddies.

Then the October issue arrived in the mail yesterday, featuring a very handsome fellow on the cover with an arrow pointing him out as a “black Persian”!

I thought Dougy’d slipped away without my knowledge and posed for a CAT FANCY cover, I tell you.

See the "horns"? No wonder I thought I was looking at Dougy!

See the “horns”? No wonder I thought I was looking at Dougy!

Audrey Pavio, writer of the CAT FANCY article quotes South Carolina breeder Susan Youngman, who says, “They are loving, attentive and want to be around you or near you or on your lap.” On top of that, we (Audrey, Susan, and I) all agree black Persians are stunningly beautiful cats. That’s not bull, it’s the Gospel truth!

Thank you CAT FANCY! The wait was worth it. We Persian cat people can put away the voodoo dolls now.

dried blood

I like to pet my cats, of course, but I also use petting time to check for lumps, matted hair, or other irregularities that need my attention.

This morning, while rubbing Andy’s nose, head, and ears, I felt something hard on the end of his right ear. It was dried blood. Worse, his ear now has a notch in it. Poor Andy!

While the notch doesn’t disfigure Andy’s beauty, it is there. Did it come out of a tussle with Dougy? I do hear some caterwauling during their play some days. Recently, I had to break up “play” that got a bit rough when Andy managed to pin down his brother under a chair. The chair helped Andy keep Dougy in the perfect position to terrorize. Andy definitely made his brother squeal like a little piggy till I stopped the rough housing.

The boys play well together almost all the time. That characteristic is why the woman who gave me Andy asked if I wanted Dougy too: They are best buddies, and have been since kittenhood.

Thanks to my cluttered home, the boys have plenty of hiding places from each other if they need quiet. They can climb high in every room if things get rough in play. They “play chase” each other through the house every day, an activity they enjoy a lot since they often trade places being predator or prey. The place is a mini peaceable kingdom, where my little guys can lie down with a lion or another lamb, depending on their moods and how much one wants the lounger by the door, for example.

That ear notch seems an odd business. Did Dougy do it or did Andy damage it on a loose staple on the new cat tree? If there is a loose staple, I need fix it. If it was excessively rough play, I need to supervise the boys a bit more closely. Speaking of which, Andy is sharpening his claws even as I type!

Where’d this day go?

I don’t think I accomplished anything I set out to do today, except wash the dishes.

Here it is, time to feed the kitties. Andy came by to >meow< and let me know he wanted something. He does that.

Then Dougy just stopped by, caught my attention (he checked over his shoulder as he walked away, to verify that), stopped by the cat feeding station by the fountain, sniffed the plates for any sign I'd been there, then crossed the path to the dry food feeding station.

There he is, sadly eating something he'd rather not eat when he's expecting wet food at this hour. Shame on me!

So, this will be a short note, documentation of my abuse of two sweet cats through delay in feeding wet food. I expect an ASPCA visit any moment now if I don't stop to fix the boys' wet food now!

What? I wonder who's at the door at this hour?