Im not convinced that our cats are like any other cats in the world, but with the holidays coming up, I thought Id share with you some of the toys our cats have delighted in. You might want to invest in these and see how yours like them. One thing I have found is that every cat has different specifics even if they tend to cluster along common veins. Heres my list:
1.) Toilet bowl box. This appears to be a favorite with all of them. I had to replace our toilet, and knew better than to immediately get rid of the box. I just reclosed one end and waited to see what happened. Powder Puff took to it first, and spent the entire evening fighting with it, in it, around it etc and brought other items to play with it as well. Next it was used by all to hide in to get away or to lure and launch attacks from. This morning Lucky almost woke Mary Ann up from the racket he was making with the box.
2) a pea. Perhaps not the toy you might think of immediately. I accidently discovered this one when I decided to see if Lucky (our one cat who reliably wants any of our food) would like to eat one of these. Being somewhat on the immature side myself, I couldn't resist trying. I rolled the pea to him, and he took one sniff of it then batted it off the table and was after it. At this point I began to regret the whole thing. I could tell you about it, but to save time suffice it to say that I never saw the pea again. The downside to this type of toy is the fact that you are essentially hiding garbage around your house. Think about this before you try it.
3) Laser light. They never seem to tire of this one. Its the never to be caught bug, and even after Marley knew it would appear when we picked up the laser light, and he looks to us when the click sound is made as we turn it off, he still can't resist it. My advice - don't point it in their eyes, and keep it just out of their reach. I suspect that you will get tired of it long before they do.
4) a plastic Starbucks cup top swizel stick. I have no idea what attracts them to this, but they love to play with it in the inside door mat. Maybe the way it makes noise, maybe the way it slides or maybe they are just part of the Starbucks craze.
5) a straw (the ones that can be bent seem to be best). Light, easy to carry and somewhat unpredictable when you drop or sling them, these can be a lot of fun. They are even nicely chewy.
7) Shoe laces Only one of our cats is facinated with laces, particularly the tips, so you wil just have to see what yours think on this one.
8) Shoes. Cats seem to love shoes - they can chew on them, get inside them, pounce on them, put things in them to try and get, and even drag them around. Personally I don't really get it. I will tell you that its no where near as fun to watch when you need that shoe.
9) Insects, reptiles and small mammals. To cats these are the most important things, and often very challenging. I would suggest you at all costs avoid allowing these as toys. You do need to remember though that cats have a deep seated need to catch anything they can, and will often bring their prize to you when successful. If the victim was in the house, you can be glad it was discovered even if you might want another method of getting rid of it. If it was outside, I suggest you not let the cat in the house with it. When ours bring some poor soul to our door, we tell them what a great job they did, but that they cant bring it in the house. Ususally this means they drop it and it scampers away which in my mind makes everyone win.
10) things to push off high places. Well, this isnt really a toy you can get them, but you should recognize that when you leave anything on a high place, its potential for a toy is greatly magnified. And cats seem to enjoy the effects of gravity on them.
11) Throw rugs or light door mats. These cat toys provide tremendous entertainment and can also serve a function. They are a place you can let your cat scratch, and unlike any other thing you approve for your cat to scratch on, it fights back by bending and folding towards them which is of course a big "fight me" signal to the cat. Often they can be on, under or around these (and sometimes all at the same time) while play fighting. They can also be great places to play with other objects when the other objects try to hide (or are placed) under the mat. One sure fire distraction for a cat is to put a toy just under the edge and watch them go for it. The downside to this toy is that it is mostly left in an unkempt position, and may represent a tripping hazard to everyone else.
12) Plastic Bottle screw on caps. One of the biggest advantages of this toy is its ease of portability as well as its ability to slide on hard floors like a air hockey puck. So, say you have an empty toilet bowl box lying in the middle of your living room floor, and your cat tires of batting and chasing the bottle cap all over your tile floor in the other room. She can quickly and easily pick it up in her mouth and carry it to the box, and there it becomes a brand new toy that hides in and around the box as the cat jumps, spins and snakes a paw around the box parts.
13) Playing with your cat. One way to ensure quality one on one play time with your cat is to have them participate in the ritual of changing the sheets on your bed. This can be wildly entertaining for you both although your entertainment may only last a few minutes...
There are lots more of ideas out there, and they dont have to cost you an arm or a leg. One suggestion - watch out for cats falling asleep under the bedcovers after their playtime...
Monday, October 6, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Parental Manual Part 1: Are they eating right?
Let me summarize previous comments like they do on TV:
Previously on the Hines Cat Blog regarding feeding:
Today started out okay. Marley did his normal supervisory overview which is to say he jumped up just out of arms reach of me and perched on the kitchen pass through to watch my progress. Im not sure how he seems to know when I get to his food, since I prepare all the dishes before I give any out, but sure enough, as I start on his food, he looks carefully to be sure its his, then walks through my preparation area with a quick sniff of the food then jumps down to anxiously await delivery.
Lucky does his best to help by swirling between my legs and almost tripping me whenever I have to move. Usually he will jump up to see mostly to prove he can and has the right to do so, then gets down and starts a-swirling. Powder Puff exponentially adds to this confusion by simultaneously trying to also rub up against my legs while trying to rub up against Lucky. For me it seems like Im standing in swirling flood waters, and I think of all the warnings about not moving through flood waters, but, like all those who foolishly proceed, I do have to move around to get the food done.
So this morning I finish prep work, put Marleys food down and he sets to it: guiet, professional, a man who knows what he is doing, and do it he does. He is efficient, and even places his body in a position that protects his food from the others. Lucky and Powder Puff go instantly from mid swirl to see if their food is being put down. THis used to concern me because I thought Marley would fiercly defend his food, but as they are trying to get around him I stand up, grab their bowls and call them as I walk to their eating place. Suddenly they are on board, and follow me to the annointed place. As I get ready to put down the food the black (Lucky) and white (Powder Puff) swirling activity has a dizzing effect which complicates me predicting when to put each bowl down to be sure they get their intended food. Once the food is there, things sort out quickly, Lucky turns on his eating buzz saw and eats like a vacuum cleaner on speed.
Powder Puff is the problem child. She eats her food normally just barely enough to leave me wondering why I cant interest her in food most of the time. If its true that she is trying to be a super model, she is succeeding in being skinny enough, and she probably purges later. Mostly she hardly eats at all, I have to defend her food from Marley until I am convinced she isnt going to eat more, then just let nature take its course.
Last night Mary Ann explained to me what I ought to do for Powder Puff since she had loved the food she got yesterday. Today was a different story. Not only didnt she want it, but in an unprecedent moved, actually scratched at it eventually. I tried several ways of presenting it to her but
She did not like it on the floor
She did not like it by the door
She wouldnt eat it on a mat
She wouldnt eat and that is that
I tried to tell her that if she ate
Surely she would think its great
I even told her it was clam
I pulled my hair and bald-I-am
Nothing seemed to work with her, and as I was just giving up, I looked up and saw 6 eyes staring at me with "I need to eat" written in their expressions. So I did what every parent has done some time when they are at the end of the rope - I gave them treats, and since they are Greenies, they must have some nutrition in them right?
Previously on the Hines Cat Blog regarding feeding:
- Marley is biggest, eats anything as long as it is seafood in gravy, then looks for food left by the others. After eating his wet food, will eat any of theirs before starting his own dry food. Like me, he can always eat. There are exceptions
- Lucky is lean and growing, and goes through his dry food like a chainsaw on speed. He doesnt want wet (cat) food, but watch the poultry being prepared for our dinner. He eats fast and hard, gets full and doesnt need more. THere are exceptions
- Powder Puff is finicky, eats little, often just licking the gravy from her wet food. She seems like she wants to eat if only we could provide something good. There are exceptions.
- Marley will wait to eat it last, and wont like it, but he will eat it anyway as long as it is his universe of acceptable food. This universe is expanding as he comes to appreciate the other cats tastes.
- Lucky wont eat it. He will sometimes check out the food of the other cats, but always has the same reactions - a disgusted look on his face and then he scratches the floor towards it as if to say "I've GOT to bury this stinking mess!"
- Powder Puff will briefly look at it or sniff it, then walk away and look up at me as if to say, "Isn't there something decent to eat?" You can't tell when this will happen - It could be her reaction to the same kind of food that she just devoured (an exception) yesterday.
Today started out okay. Marley did his normal supervisory overview which is to say he jumped up just out of arms reach of me and perched on the kitchen pass through to watch my progress. Im not sure how he seems to know when I get to his food, since I prepare all the dishes before I give any out, but sure enough, as I start on his food, he looks carefully to be sure its his, then walks through my preparation area with a quick sniff of the food then jumps down to anxiously await delivery.
Lucky does his best to help by swirling between my legs and almost tripping me whenever I have to move. Usually he will jump up to see mostly to prove he can and has the right to do so, then gets down and starts a-swirling. Powder Puff exponentially adds to this confusion by simultaneously trying to also rub up against my legs while trying to rub up against Lucky. For me it seems like Im standing in swirling flood waters, and I think of all the warnings about not moving through flood waters, but, like all those who foolishly proceed, I do have to move around to get the food done.
So this morning I finish prep work, put Marleys food down and he sets to it: guiet, professional, a man who knows what he is doing, and do it he does. He is efficient, and even places his body in a position that protects his food from the others. Lucky and Powder Puff go instantly from mid swirl to see if their food is being put down. THis used to concern me because I thought Marley would fiercly defend his food, but as they are trying to get around him I stand up, grab their bowls and call them as I walk to their eating place. Suddenly they are on board, and follow me to the annointed place. As I get ready to put down the food the black (Lucky) and white (Powder Puff) swirling activity has a dizzing effect which complicates me predicting when to put each bowl down to be sure they get their intended food. Once the food is there, things sort out quickly, Lucky turns on his eating buzz saw and eats like a vacuum cleaner on speed.
Powder Puff is the problem child. She eats her food normally just barely enough to leave me wondering why I cant interest her in food most of the time. If its true that she is trying to be a super model, she is succeeding in being skinny enough, and she probably purges later. Mostly she hardly eats at all, I have to defend her food from Marley until I am convinced she isnt going to eat more, then just let nature take its course.
Last night Mary Ann explained to me what I ought to do for Powder Puff since she had loved the food she got yesterday. Today was a different story. Not only didnt she want it, but in an unprecedent moved, actually scratched at it eventually. I tried several ways of presenting it to her but
She did not like it on the floor
She did not like it by the door
She wouldnt eat it on a mat
She wouldnt eat and that is that
I tried to tell her that if she ate
Surely she would think its great
I even told her it was clam
I pulled my hair and bald-I-am
Nothing seemed to work with her, and as I was just giving up, I looked up and saw 6 eyes staring at me with "I need to eat" written in their expressions. So I did what every parent has done some time when they are at the end of the rope - I gave them treats, and since they are Greenies, they must have some nutrition in them right?
Congratulations to the Happy Couple!
...and I dont mean Amy and Alex, I mean Mary Ann and I, who are now the proud grandparents of a brand new kitten named Gyptian. Amy and Alex got him a few days ago, and he is about as cute as a button! I dont mean to imply that Amy and Alex arent happy, because they are, but well, to be blunt, this blog is all about me.
We had pictured this little cute thing that is quiet and sleepy - after all his older "sister" Ashley (actually not related) is like that - a little shy, very vocal, but otherwise quiet and sedate, even regal. Gyptian on the other hand is 100mph cute. He is afraid of nothing, and lives his life as if everything is new, fun and adventurous - hey, maybe I ought to look at things that way!
Ashley seems to have taken the new arrival as older sisters sometimes do - she wants nothing to do with him and views him as an invading force that has disrupted her quiet peaceful lifestyle. My one experience with the two of them together (Gyptian in a crate) involved Ashley wanting to leave the room but being afraid to look away from the danger, and when we picked her up and brought her within sight of the crate she began to hiss - something Ive never heard her do before. In the long run I think that Gyptian will be good for Ashley, but the adjustment period will be a little slow.
In the meantime, while Amy and Alex go through the yin and yang of a life change, Mary Ann and I can just be proud grandparents.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Our Cats Need Supervisory Training
In my work career, Ive had great supervisors and terrible ones. This morning, as Mary Ann was feeding the cats, I heard her say "So, you all are here to supervise my work, are you?" and I realized how insightful that comment was. Not only do they act like supervisors during food preparation times, but they are pretty poor at the job. Let me show you what I mean.
I should say one thing in their behalf - feeding time to them is like a publication deadline with a major story still being finalized - high stress, very important, and fear of a poor outcome.
Since I "work" with these cats every day, and I dont want to hurt our relationship, I've changed their names in this story to protect their identities. "Flower Stuff" is probably the best of the lot, but by saying that I really mean she is the least worst. She stays close, watches our work carefully, is in the way whenever we turn around, sends out body language vibes but is less of a proactive bad supervisor in other ways.
"Clucky" cant help himself. He has to know what is going on, and gets real frustrated if he cant be right there. When this impulse overcomes his better sense, he is right in the middle of things, checking every little detail and constantly getting in the way. He is like the supervisor who feels that he needs to check every little thing you do, and is so much in the way that the product delivery is delayed and tempers get short.
"Charley" is in the middle. He does emit the aura of the supervisor, and exerts his rights to monitor what is going on. For the most part, he stays out of arms reach (barely) and silently observes, but when he senses that his portion of the work is almost done, he swoops in to check and be sure. He does know that this is all disruptive, and is willing to observe from a distance but he does this from a strategic view slightly above our work surface where our every move is under his gaze, and he cant resist that final check. At least he does just check the product and then goes on to wait for delivery, confident that our work is just about finished.
Since 'Charley's" work product is delivered first, 'Clucky' and "Flower Stuff" run in and check the work, and if they approve cautiously see ifthey can use "Charley's" product. THen, as they realize their own products are being delivered, they are constantly underfoot, slowing the delivery of their own end products. A little bit of chaos ensues as they check to be sure that the other's product isnt preferable (it NEVER is, but they check anyway) and then they settle in, accepting their own product.
I suppose then its time for our coffee break as we finally have the bosses off our backs!
One final note lest you think that this is as simple a process as it should be. Our feeding routine is complex and requires a deft touch, for nothing in our household is done the easy way. It involves 5 feeding bowls, two types of food (wet and dry) three flavors - two of which must vary every day and cant be the same, one voracious mouth that will eat only one thing but goes at it full force, one voracious mouth that will eat anything as long as its seafood IN GRAVY and isnt the same as the last time, and one who is terribly skinny and while acting hungry doesnt seem to want much of anything. We also have to make sure that there isnt fighting and that "Charley" lets others eat their fill before he eats their food too. For the most part, Charley doesnt allow food to sit around and be munched on throughout the day. In fact, he likes his wet food best and eats it immediately, and protects it. When he finishes, he then goes and checks to see if anything is left ot the others foods, sometimes waiting for them (or most likely us) to get out of the way. He will then eat their leftovers, and eat their dry food first, saving his dry food for after he finishes theirs. While they all act like the three little piggies before a meal, only 'Charley' and Clucky' eat their food like there is no tomorrow, and only 'Charley' keeps at it until its all gone.
So even in retirement we are just like you with bad, untrained supervisors getting in our way as we try to do the right thing for them. But at least we love our little supervisors...
I should say one thing in their behalf - feeding time to them is like a publication deadline with a major story still being finalized - high stress, very important, and fear of a poor outcome.
Since I "work" with these cats every day, and I dont want to hurt our relationship, I've changed their names in this story to protect their identities. "Flower Stuff" is probably the best of the lot, but by saying that I really mean she is the least worst. She stays close, watches our work carefully, is in the way whenever we turn around, sends out body language vibes but is less of a proactive bad supervisor in other ways.
"Clucky" cant help himself. He has to know what is going on, and gets real frustrated if he cant be right there. When this impulse overcomes his better sense, he is right in the middle of things, checking every little detail and constantly getting in the way. He is like the supervisor who feels that he needs to check every little thing you do, and is so much in the way that the product delivery is delayed and tempers get short.
"Charley" is in the middle. He does emit the aura of the supervisor, and exerts his rights to monitor what is going on. For the most part, he stays out of arms reach (barely) and silently observes, but when he senses that his portion of the work is almost done, he swoops in to check and be sure. He does know that this is all disruptive, and is willing to observe from a distance but he does this from a strategic view slightly above our work surface where our every move is under his gaze, and he cant resist that final check. At least he does just check the product and then goes on to wait for delivery, confident that our work is just about finished.
Since 'Charley's" work product is delivered first, 'Clucky' and "Flower Stuff" run in and check the work, and if they approve cautiously see ifthey can use "Charley's" product. THen, as they realize their own products are being delivered, they are constantly underfoot, slowing the delivery of their own end products. A little bit of chaos ensues as they check to be sure that the other's product isnt preferable (it NEVER is, but they check anyway) and then they settle in, accepting their own product.
I suppose then its time for our coffee break as we finally have the bosses off our backs!
One final note lest you think that this is as simple a process as it should be. Our feeding routine is complex and requires a deft touch, for nothing in our household is done the easy way. It involves 5 feeding bowls, two types of food (wet and dry) three flavors - two of which must vary every day and cant be the same, one voracious mouth that will eat only one thing but goes at it full force, one voracious mouth that will eat anything as long as its seafood IN GRAVY and isnt the same as the last time, and one who is terribly skinny and while acting hungry doesnt seem to want much of anything. We also have to make sure that there isnt fighting and that "Charley" lets others eat their fill before he eats their food too. For the most part, Charley doesnt allow food to sit around and be munched on throughout the day. In fact, he likes his wet food best and eats it immediately, and protects it. When he finishes, he then goes and checks to see if anything is left ot the others foods, sometimes waiting for them (or most likely us) to get out of the way. He will then eat their leftovers, and eat their dry food first, saving his dry food for after he finishes theirs. While they all act like the three little piggies before a meal, only 'Charley' and Clucky' eat their food like there is no tomorrow, and only 'Charley' keeps at it until its all gone.
So even in retirement we are just like you with bad, untrained supervisors getting in our way as we try to do the right thing for them. But at least we love our little supervisors...
Friday, September 19, 2008
Feeding Frenzy
Of all the times of the day, first thing in the morning is when Im at my worst. Its been like this for a long time, and I have tried to take measures to limit exposure to me from other folks until I am steady on my feet. Ive (more than once) taken a scoop of coffee intended for the coffee maker and put it in the dog dish, then spent a minute or so just looking at it, realizing that something is wrong, but not being able to figure out what. While I may have wasted coffee and dog food, at least it never got to the point that the dog had the option of eating it, and I never did go so far as to put pet food in the coffee pot....yet.
All this is to give you an idea as to the challanges that face me in the morning when Marley gets me up, and Ive managed to get through a constantly swirling mass of cat bodies to the kitchen where they expect to be fed RIGHT NOW. Its gotten worse recently since they have started changing the whole food ritual, and I dont do well with change at that hour of the morning.
It all started out with Marley, who was kind enough to have well established rules for food, and these rules didnt change. I did pretty well with that. Marleys only real variable was when he wanted to eat as related to when I wanted to feed him. His rule was inviolate - he ALWAYS wanted to eat. He would undertake strategies sometimes to trick me into feeding him early, and harass me for food constantly, but the habit became ingrained and I didnt have too much difficulty. Marley's actual canned food preferences were pretty simple: it had to be seafood of some sort, and it had to be in gravy (not sauce, not just meat, not pate). You could count on the fact that if the can said something that was just seafood and had the words "in Gravy" on the label he would eat it like a vacuum cleaner and hope for more. He would also get a small amout of dry food, and that again could not vary by brand, flavor or consistency.
So in come our new cats, and my blurry early morning world fell apart. Lucky and Powder Puff were both pretty emaciated looking, and Lucky acted in accordance with that view - he made Marley look like a slow eater, and has become the most consistent of the eaters. Put a dish of dry food in front of him and hes off to the races. If you were to ask me what would be a good sound to describe his eating process Id say a chain saw. And he is my favorite, because thats all he wants and he is as happy as a clam. In fact, sometimes he goes over to Powder Puffs bowl and take a whiff which makes him put on a disgusted face and immediately try to bury her food. He does have one quirk, but since it isnt in the morning, Im not worried. If he can get at chicken or turkey destined for people, he will go right after it - raw or cooked. We have to keep a wary eye out for him during dinner preparation, but Im better prepared to handle this at that hour. Lucky has responded well to his food, is strong and no longer looks emaciated
Powder Puff has presented a little more of a challange. She doesnt eat much. Like Marley, she also likes gravy, although at first she would only eat the gravy. Weve tried the pates the sauces, etc, and she likes in gravy the best. Her appitite has improved somewhat, but it isnt consistent, and as you will see, I still dont have it right.
We started her with just dry food like Lucky, and she would eat a little, then leave, after which at some point one of the boys would polish off her food. She would then ask for more on occasision, but we learned that most of any more would end up being eaten by the bottomless pits that are her brothers. So we settled into a routine with a little canned food and a little dry food. The key phrase here is "settle into a routine" because at that point I can deal with it. But it wasnt to be. Some days she polishes off all of her canned food, some days nothing but the gravy, and it doesnt appear to relate to what is in the can.
One blessing we have is that there isnt any fighting over food in the house. The one constant is the dry food, which they all eat, but in separate bowls, something I started when the other cats were new, and we didnt know how Marley would handle this.
So last week Powder Puff does the unthinkable. When I put down Marleys canned food, she immediately goes to it, and despite the fact that it is seafood, eats greedily. Marley and I are both staring with our mouths open, and Lucky is wondering where his food is. Finally Marley settles in and begins to eat his dry food, something he has never done first. I finish putting down the rest of the food but my morning tranquility is shattered. we havent had a repeat of this, but instead, Marley has started eating her canned food leftovers, something you couldnt have forced him to eat a few months ago.
There are a whole series of these dynamics which are evolving and serve to make my early mornings more difficult. Lucky is challanging Marley for the "power Position" on the pass through where they can watch to make sure I am preparing their food; Marley has learned that if he eats his canned food, he can then cautiously go to the other cats food and eat their dry food while saving his dry food for last, etc, and all the while I have to be sure that Powder Puff is getting enough to eat without letting the boys go hog wild on any food she leaves.
Regardless, its too early for me to deal with appropriately. As long as I keep the pet food out of the coffee I guess I can deal with it though...
All this is to give you an idea as to the challanges that face me in the morning when Marley gets me up, and Ive managed to get through a constantly swirling mass of cat bodies to the kitchen where they expect to be fed RIGHT NOW. Its gotten worse recently since they have started changing the whole food ritual, and I dont do well with change at that hour of the morning.
It all started out with Marley, who was kind enough to have well established rules for food, and these rules didnt change. I did pretty well with that. Marleys only real variable was when he wanted to eat as related to when I wanted to feed him. His rule was inviolate - he ALWAYS wanted to eat. He would undertake strategies sometimes to trick me into feeding him early, and harass me for food constantly, but the habit became ingrained and I didnt have too much difficulty. Marley's actual canned food preferences were pretty simple: it had to be seafood of some sort, and it had to be in gravy (not sauce, not just meat, not pate). You could count on the fact that if the can said something that was just seafood and had the words "in Gravy" on the label he would eat it like a vacuum cleaner and hope for more. He would also get a small amout of dry food, and that again could not vary by brand, flavor or consistency.
So in come our new cats, and my blurry early morning world fell apart. Lucky and Powder Puff were both pretty emaciated looking, and Lucky acted in accordance with that view - he made Marley look like a slow eater, and has become the most consistent of the eaters. Put a dish of dry food in front of him and hes off to the races. If you were to ask me what would be a good sound to describe his eating process Id say a chain saw. And he is my favorite, because thats all he wants and he is as happy as a clam. In fact, sometimes he goes over to Powder Puffs bowl and take a whiff which makes him put on a disgusted face and immediately try to bury her food. He does have one quirk, but since it isnt in the morning, Im not worried. If he can get at chicken or turkey destined for people, he will go right after it - raw or cooked. We have to keep a wary eye out for him during dinner preparation, but Im better prepared to handle this at that hour. Lucky has responded well to his food, is strong and no longer looks emaciated
Powder Puff has presented a little more of a challange. She doesnt eat much. Like Marley, she also likes gravy, although at first she would only eat the gravy. Weve tried the pates the sauces, etc, and she likes in gravy the best. Her appitite has improved somewhat, but it isnt consistent, and as you will see, I still dont have it right.
We started her with just dry food like Lucky, and she would eat a little, then leave, after which at some point one of the boys would polish off her food. She would then ask for more on occasision, but we learned that most of any more would end up being eaten by the bottomless pits that are her brothers. So we settled into a routine with a little canned food and a little dry food. The key phrase here is "settle into a routine" because at that point I can deal with it. But it wasnt to be. Some days she polishes off all of her canned food, some days nothing but the gravy, and it doesnt appear to relate to what is in the can.
One blessing we have is that there isnt any fighting over food in the house. The one constant is the dry food, which they all eat, but in separate bowls, something I started when the other cats were new, and we didnt know how Marley would handle this.
So last week Powder Puff does the unthinkable. When I put down Marleys canned food, she immediately goes to it, and despite the fact that it is seafood, eats greedily. Marley and I are both staring with our mouths open, and Lucky is wondering where his food is. Finally Marley settles in and begins to eat his dry food, something he has never done first. I finish putting down the rest of the food but my morning tranquility is shattered. we havent had a repeat of this, but instead, Marley has started eating her canned food leftovers, something you couldnt have forced him to eat a few months ago.
There are a whole series of these dynamics which are evolving and serve to make my early mornings more difficult. Lucky is challanging Marley for the "power Position" on the pass through where they can watch to make sure I am preparing their food; Marley has learned that if he eats his canned food, he can then cautiously go to the other cats food and eat their dry food while saving his dry food for last, etc, and all the while I have to be sure that Powder Puff is getting enough to eat without letting the boys go hog wild on any food she leaves.
Regardless, its too early for me to deal with appropriately. As long as I keep the pet food out of the coffee I guess I can deal with it though...
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Screams from the Examining Room
Let me get it over with ... Marley hated his visit to the vet, and made sure everybody in a 4 block radius knew about it. Our two stray cats dont like trips to the vet, but are compliant and don't make a fuss. Marley more than made up for the both of them.
And the thing that gets me is that EVERYBODY tried to make it nice for him. He was "just" there to get checked for feline leukemia and to get a vaccination. I'll tell you one thing, from the sounds emanating from that room, people outside must have been picturing that cartoon cat who has his paw in an electrical outlet with his fur standing up and all four legs extended while he shrieked.
Marley hates getting in the crate, and complained all the way to the vets. He was quiet in the waiting room, but then he wouldn't come out when we went into the examining room. The assistant foolishly tried to drag him out but had to give up. So I reached in, and by tilting the crate was able to slide him down and out. So I scooped him up to give him fatherly comfort. He immediately started growling. The assistant tried to give him the "nice kitty" pet and so Marley stood back, hissed loudly and swatted at her. She wisely retreated, and we considered alternatives while we listened to Marley growling like a 60's era high performance race car with no muffler.
We were beginning to suspect that there may be a problem. The assistant very professionally explained to us that this sort of thing happens, but that they handle it, and although it may get a little distressing to us, we shouldn't worry because cats sometimes get like this. As she comes a little closer while explaining that I should be careful as to how I hold him because cat bites aren't good, Marley sits up, hisses, bites me in the hand (luckily he was just sane enough to realize it was me and barely broke the skin) then swatted and hissed again.
The vet walks in and stops. Clearly this guy is a veteran because he knows somethings up. He asks if we think Marley will allow him to do a little exam, and we tell him that we seriously doubt it. So the plan is to give him an injection that will knock him pretty much out in just a few minutes and can be reversed just as quickly. We all agree this is best.
There is, of course, the little matter of getting the injection in ... and I'm just hoping the vet doesn't ask me to do it. Everybody is looking like they feel the same way. The vet goes to get the shot, and the assistant, still looking professional although perhaps a little pale, explains that she will put a towel over Marley and hold him down while the vet gives the shot. We shouldn't worry even though it might seem a little severe. Mary Ann and I look at each other in a way that says "do you think this is as unlikely to work as I do?" But we get ready.
I'm still holding Marley when the vet returns with a professional smile on his face and a needle in his hand. Its time for the pros to go to work, so the assistant closes in with the towel and clamps down on Marley, I quickly add my hands to help, and the vet moves in towards what has now become a writhing, snarling, howling towel-wrapped devil. The vet courageously moves in, someone bares Marley's hindquarters, and the Vet sticks the needle in.
To actually grasp what happens next, you must take a few minutes to remember the most scary scenes from the Exorcist. As the needle goes in, Marley s shrieks grew from the strength of a human adult yelling to something from the bowels of hell. It was so loud that I'd swear that the window glass rattled, and at the same moment suddenly all four of us were thrown back as the tornado under the towel unleashed his true force, then used this moment to levitate out from under the towel and fly to the floor where in a shower of hisses and snarls, he ran under a bench affixed to the wall.
We all looked at each other. The vet wiped sweat from his brow, and with a forlorn look explained that he hadn't been able to get the shot in. I felt like I was going to cry.
The assistant moved around the table and towards the noises coming from under the bench. She tried to move in with the towel, but Marley was having none of it. He had found the one hard-to-get at-me place in the room, and he was prepared to defend himself. As she moved in, he was hissing like a deranged steam locomotive, and his paws were swatting so fast they could hardly be seen. If you've ever seen a martial arts movie where the fighters supposedly move their limbs so fast that the air whistles, you will know what I mean when I tell you we heard the real thing.
The vet thinks for a moment, and suggests that we push his crate under one end of the bench to force him out the other and block his retreat back there, but the crate wont fit and its looking pretty dangerous to get within a crates length of him anyway. The vet then looks at the amount of serum in the needle, and decides that he doesn't have enough and tells us he will be right back. The assistant explains to us that they may need to use a special device to help restrain him that they occasionally have to use. I'm thinking they might actually need the Marines, or perhaps artillery.
As the vet walks back in, the assistant kind of quietly says something to him like "should we use the green net... I explained to them about it." But the vet has a different plan. He has brought a classic piece of technology specifically used to flush out a cat. Its called a broom. So the assistant gets positioned at one end of the bench with the towel (no, I cant explain the confidence they have in a towel) and the vet, using all of the veterinary skills he learned at school, goes in with the broom from the other end.
Marley is pushed to the far end, and although its hard to hear anything with his screams, he puts up a good fight, but cant seem to cause much damage to the broom bristles with his claws, teeth and hissing, and is eventually pushed out the other end of the bench. You will pardon the expression if I say that the assistant put the towel on him and POUNCED, holding him down with all her might. He writhed and thrashed and loudly complained but she had him. The Vet was no longer explaining and showing where the needle would go - he just pushed it right through the towel into Marley, gave him a high decibel inducing injection, and both the vet and the assistant backed off. Marley immediately quieted since he was obviously effectively hidden - he couldn't see anyone and no one was touching him.
If he wasn't moving, none of us wanted to bother him. The vet said he would be back in a few minutes, and in the meantime, we should not do anything to excite him while the shot took effect. Mary Ann and I sat down on the bench, both relieved that we wouldn't have to risk ourselves by checking under the towel.
The rest of the visit is a little anticlimactic. Despite the fact that there was no movement under the towel except for breathing, everyone agreed that we should give him a little extra time to go under. In the 5 or so minutes that took place after the shot, a magical transformation took place because when they pulled off the blanket that crazy monster had turned into our sweet little Marley, eyes open but completely zonked out. When they picked him up off the floor, what had looked like a little vomit from the trauma turned out to be a giant pile of vomit that he zonked into and had to get cleaned up a bit.
At that point, he wasn't complaining, so he got his full physical in addition to the specifics we had him there for. When all was done, the vet gave him another shot, poured him back into his crate and we waited for him to wake back up outside. This also took only a few minutes, and he was calm but awake and moving by the time the results came in.
So we made it through the visit, and I only have one scar, and it didn't bleed much at all, even less than the one the assistant got. And I wouldn't have been surprised to see a line "hazardous duty pay" on the bill, but there wasn't one. The vet did say that we should bring him back within 6 months to get his teeth cleaned.
I'll bet that the vet will be watching for an appointment to be made so he can put in for a vacation day!
And the thing that gets me is that EVERYBODY tried to make it nice for him. He was "just" there to get checked for feline leukemia and to get a vaccination. I'll tell you one thing, from the sounds emanating from that room, people outside must have been picturing that cartoon cat who has his paw in an electrical outlet with his fur standing up and all four legs extended while he shrieked.
Marley hates getting in the crate, and complained all the way to the vets. He was quiet in the waiting room, but then he wouldn't come out when we went into the examining room. The assistant foolishly tried to drag him out but had to give up. So I reached in, and by tilting the crate was able to slide him down and out. So I scooped him up to give him fatherly comfort. He immediately started growling. The assistant tried to give him the "nice kitty" pet and so Marley stood back, hissed loudly and swatted at her. She wisely retreated, and we considered alternatives while we listened to Marley growling like a 60's era high performance race car with no muffler.
We were beginning to suspect that there may be a problem. The assistant very professionally explained to us that this sort of thing happens, but that they handle it, and although it may get a little distressing to us, we shouldn't worry because cats sometimes get like this. As she comes a little closer while explaining that I should be careful as to how I hold him because cat bites aren't good, Marley sits up, hisses, bites me in the hand (luckily he was just sane enough to realize it was me and barely broke the skin) then swatted and hissed again.
The vet walks in and stops. Clearly this guy is a veteran because he knows somethings up. He asks if we think Marley will allow him to do a little exam, and we tell him that we seriously doubt it. So the plan is to give him an injection that will knock him pretty much out in just a few minutes and can be reversed just as quickly. We all agree this is best.
There is, of course, the little matter of getting the injection in ... and I'm just hoping the vet doesn't ask me to do it. Everybody is looking like they feel the same way. The vet goes to get the shot, and the assistant, still looking professional although perhaps a little pale, explains that she will put a towel over Marley and hold him down while the vet gives the shot. We shouldn't worry even though it might seem a little severe. Mary Ann and I look at each other in a way that says "do you think this is as unlikely to work as I do?" But we get ready.
I'm still holding Marley when the vet returns with a professional smile on his face and a needle in his hand. Its time for the pros to go to work, so the assistant closes in with the towel and clamps down on Marley, I quickly add my hands to help, and the vet moves in towards what has now become a writhing, snarling, howling towel-wrapped devil. The vet courageously moves in, someone bares Marley's hindquarters, and the Vet sticks the needle in.
To actually grasp what happens next, you must take a few minutes to remember the most scary scenes from the Exorcist. As the needle goes in, Marley s shrieks grew from the strength of a human adult yelling to something from the bowels of hell. It was so loud that I'd swear that the window glass rattled, and at the same moment suddenly all four of us were thrown back as the tornado under the towel unleashed his true force, then used this moment to levitate out from under the towel and fly to the floor where in a shower of hisses and snarls, he ran under a bench affixed to the wall.
We all looked at each other. The vet wiped sweat from his brow, and with a forlorn look explained that he hadn't been able to get the shot in. I felt like I was going to cry.
The assistant moved around the table and towards the noises coming from under the bench. She tried to move in with the towel, but Marley was having none of it. He had found the one hard-to-get at-me place in the room, and he was prepared to defend himself. As she moved in, he was hissing like a deranged steam locomotive, and his paws were swatting so fast they could hardly be seen. If you've ever seen a martial arts movie where the fighters supposedly move their limbs so fast that the air whistles, you will know what I mean when I tell you we heard the real thing.
The vet thinks for a moment, and suggests that we push his crate under one end of the bench to force him out the other and block his retreat back there, but the crate wont fit and its looking pretty dangerous to get within a crates length of him anyway. The vet then looks at the amount of serum in the needle, and decides that he doesn't have enough and tells us he will be right back. The assistant explains to us that they may need to use a special device to help restrain him that they occasionally have to use. I'm thinking they might actually need the Marines, or perhaps artillery.
As the vet walks back in, the assistant kind of quietly says something to him like "should we use the green net... I explained to them about it." But the vet has a different plan. He has brought a classic piece of technology specifically used to flush out a cat. Its called a broom. So the assistant gets positioned at one end of the bench with the towel (no, I cant explain the confidence they have in a towel) and the vet, using all of the veterinary skills he learned at school, goes in with the broom from the other end.
Marley is pushed to the far end, and although its hard to hear anything with his screams, he puts up a good fight, but cant seem to cause much damage to the broom bristles with his claws, teeth and hissing, and is eventually pushed out the other end of the bench. You will pardon the expression if I say that the assistant put the towel on him and POUNCED, holding him down with all her might. He writhed and thrashed and loudly complained but she had him. The Vet was no longer explaining and showing where the needle would go - he just pushed it right through the towel into Marley, gave him a high decibel inducing injection, and both the vet and the assistant backed off. Marley immediately quieted since he was obviously effectively hidden - he couldn't see anyone and no one was touching him.
If he wasn't moving, none of us wanted to bother him. The vet said he would be back in a few minutes, and in the meantime, we should not do anything to excite him while the shot took effect. Mary Ann and I sat down on the bench, both relieved that we wouldn't have to risk ourselves by checking under the towel.
The rest of the visit is a little anticlimactic. Despite the fact that there was no movement under the towel except for breathing, everyone agreed that we should give him a little extra time to go under. In the 5 or so minutes that took place after the shot, a magical transformation took place because when they pulled off the blanket that crazy monster had turned into our sweet little Marley, eyes open but completely zonked out. When they picked him up off the floor, what had looked like a little vomit from the trauma turned out to be a giant pile of vomit that he zonked into and had to get cleaned up a bit.
At that point, he wasn't complaining, so he got his full physical in addition to the specifics we had him there for. When all was done, the vet gave him another shot, poured him back into his crate and we waited for him to wake back up outside. This also took only a few minutes, and he was calm but awake and moving by the time the results came in.
So we made it through the visit, and I only have one scar, and it didn't bleed much at all, even less than the one the assistant got. And I wouldn't have been surprised to see a line "hazardous duty pay" on the bill, but there wasn't one. The vet did say that we should bring him back within 6 months to get his teeth cleaned.
I'll bet that the vet will be watching for an appointment to be made so he can put in for a vacation day!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
