New Pet for Christmas?

I posted this before, but I do believe it bears repeating.

Too many innocent kittens and puppies are foisted onto little children as Christmas gifts - only to wind up later at a shelter or, worse, being surreptitiously dumped on an empty country road, or left at an animal friend's back door.

* * *

As the holidays approach, we bring out tinsel, sprayed ornaments, dangling string, and other tempting items. Many of us also want fresh plants in our home especially during the bland winter months, such as the colorful poinsettia. All of these new additions of course have to be investigated and invariably nibbled on by our curious pets. Believe me when I tell you that ‘pre-owned’ poinsettia on a white Berber rug is not a pretty sight.

Is there perhaps a new pet in Santa’s burlap bag for you? What fun to bring a new puppy or kitten home to have it pop out of a box on Christmas morning, amidst squeals of delight, confusion, frenzy, and lots of tinsel.

Please, think again. It is one of the worst mornings to introduce your new four-legged, furry or feathered companion into a home. The animal will be understandably confused, even scared. No one else's behavior is quite normal during the holidays, nor will your new pet's be in a strange environment—sometimes with the unfortunate result that it is taken to a shelter for its supposedly unsuitable behavior.

‘Wouldn’t come out from under the bed and play with the kids.’

‘Made a mess under the dining room table. What do you mean we should have had a litter box prepared before we got the kitten.’

The decision to get a kitten or puppy, or any other pet, for Christmas because the kids would get a kick out of having a pet is a bad move. 




Shelters all over the country overflow after the holidays with these ‘impromptu’ pets. Don’t let your intended pet be one of them.

For some facts on pet ownership and fun stories, first give or read to your children an informative book.

Pasha's book would be perfect, if I may say so myself.

IT'S ON SALE at Amazon! 

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009ZSPXJG

Happy Holidays to Everyone -- Including your Pets

Daylight Saving Time

In prior years, I wrote about Daylight Saving Time and its effect on me and my cats. I still stand by what I said back then (it was about gaining the extra hour of sleep - or so I thought).

Daylight Savings Time: How is this still a thing?"

The one good thing is it's pay-back time for those early winter morning yowls. They-your pets- for a few days still think its 6 AM when you [evil smirk] know, it's already 7! Still doesn't make it easier to get up.

And for the next weekend, just don't forget to set your messed-up clocks an hour ahead! Or your pets will still wake you up at the usual ungodly hour. 

Holiday Gifting (No Pets)

I seem to repeat this every year:

The often chaotic holidays are no time to indulge your kids to get a kitten or a puppy. So, I won't repeat it - but you can read all about the reasons for "why not" in last year's article here: 

https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/NewPetforChristmas

Now, here is a great (and long-lasting) alternative: give the gift of Reading (and Learning, opening up some awesome worlds to your kids - and yourselves, for that matter).

How about Pasha's Book. These are fun short stories about my wonderful Rescue Cat (I still miss him so much) - and his mischievous Buddies from the Shelter.

The book is available for Kindle (ON SALE for only 99c) and in Print on Amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009ZSPXJG

Don't try to Fool your Pets (Falling Back an Hour)

So, you thought you could sleep an extra hour this morning? Not if you have a "natural" alarm clock who wants breakfast at his usual time.

As soon as you pull your comforter a little further up, a watchful eye opens.

It doesn't take long before the ears prick up, the loud purring starts, and - there you are, opening your own eyes to a new dawn - at the usual hour; only now, the clock shows five AM.

"Ok," you say, getting up, making coffee, feeding the little beast. Then, wide awake yourself now, you think you might as well work on a new blog feature; after all, it'll be hopeless to try to go back to sleep.

"Hey! You"

Snore.....

Today, I Kicked the Cat

I certainly should know better.

In “Sirocco,” I had my Egyptologist heroine add a false translation of the ancient Egyptian Golden Tablets to heap a made-up curse onto her superstitious kidnapper.

“...And never shall you find the Field of Rushes if you have kicked Bastet.”

It was an accident, I swear. Early morning Lilliput lolled about on the oriental hall runner when I came out of the bedroom without having turned on the light. It took a couple of hours and me tiptoeing around barefoot for her to come out from under the bed for some “yum-yum.”

So far, I don’t feel a curse coming on.

By the way, “Sirocco Storm over Land and Sea,” will be on SALE Aug. 2-5 for a woeful 99c (not enough to feed any cat, ancient or otherwise).
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008Y6GXZ8

And yes, treats and lovings were heaped upon my Lilliput; I think she has forgiven me.

 

Introducing MANGO

 My New Toy Boy: 

 

 Some of my good friends will say it was inevitable. The more practically inclined may shake their head, ‘At her age, she’s nuts.’ But I hope all will be as delighted for me as I and Lilliput are. The latter’s reaction is still ambiguous – though she seemed to miss our Big Boy Tinker, and has even taken up his nightly caterwauling.

The history of this new fur ball is that I had been feeding his mother Abby over the last two winters. Her 2019 March litter of five, alas, is now two one-year olds. 

Nature’s way also reduced the 2020 March litter of four down to three. Two blondes, one pure black kitten. Because of our ‘situation,’ the nearby timeshare complex was completely deserted except for the occasional maintenance and landscape guys. And there was I, faithfully traipsing across our road serving breakfast and dinner.

Abby had periodically moved her kittens around, down one hill, across the drive under this deck and that, behind yet another three-story building. But always, she would lead me to them. It was idyllic – until Wyndham Timeshares opened up for the American Independence Day celebrations. Off and on, I enlisted the goodwill of occasional visitors and cleaning crew at least not to discard my dishes (some still were).

Over the Fourth holiday, I had to hide the bowls below some rock ledges (clambering was involved), as people, cars and boat trailers rattled about.

Before this commotion, the kittens were so used to their gravy train, I could touch and comb them. With our woods all around, it was amazing: Not one flea or tick – except for ‘beggar’s lice’ (those pesky seed pods that latch onto one’s pants).

Anyway, on July 2nd (Mango’s Gotsha Day), I popped him into my bag having already prepared the guest bathroom to get him acclimated. As soon as I put the bag down at home, he pushed the zipper open. So much for a well-laid plan.

From day one, this feral kitten used the litter box (oh, lucky break) and quickly preferred sleeping on my bed rather than the ample choices of cat beds. This, of course, entails the predictable early (early!) kitten-romp and toe gnawing (mine, not his).

I must remember to look down when walking as he tends to be underfoot.

My old Lilliput sleeps a lot these days. She keeps eating less and less and I sadly sense her decline. I stroke her gently often to let her know I love her. For a few minutes, I try to make her play with a cord but she lazily lies down rocking back and forth. (Can’t fault her. I did the same at the gym and called it exercise.) She has always been such a good no-fuss girl, over the last 15 years putting up with the more playful characters of NickNack, Pasha and Tinker (I remember them all so fondly).

Now, there is MANGO! 

And, no, he's not a toy; 

but hopefully a boy - vet to confirm - to be another long-lived fuzzy sweetie. 

(Such is the excitement in my life these days. But as I sigh, I smile.) 

           

R.I.P. TINKER

This sweet cat joined my household in September 2018, late in life (his and, alas, mine too). Despite several vet visits including teeth extractions, the dreaded renal disease caught up with him in May of 2020.
Despite her aloofness, Lilliput - now over fifteen herself - misses him. I know, because she has taken up his habit of yowling in the middle of the night.

I miss him too, but am glad I could give him care and love for the last two years of his life.

RIP, sweet boy.

#NameYourCarDay

PETUNIA

Today, I celebrate another “pet.” My Petunia. She is a 1991 Volvo 240DL - and presently ailing. Nothing gets me more frazzled than when this darling has a seizure. I love her; built like a tank. (What do they say about owners resembling their pets—it better not be true about cars). It is also a good thing I am no longer young and foolish. She is the only fire-engine red Volvo in town. Everyone knows her; hence they always know where I am (no dilly-dallying for me).

Monday night, I parked in my garage as usual, then got up bright and early Tuesday morning, ready to drive to the gym—to walk. Couldn’t shift out of “park.” None of the “Googled” solutions worked. Good thing my mechanic makes house calls—even though, in Arkansas, “right away” means “not quite right away - but soon.” (If you are lucky.) He finally got it so that I could drive it to his shop, parking it in “neutral.” (Yes, guys, I did set the handbrake.) I am now marooned for a few days awaiting a new shift lever.

Of course, I could always WALK the two miles to the gym to go and walk my usual two miles there...

Never EVER Say “Never”

     Why? Because you’ll be eating crow; or, in my case, fur.

     A while back, I posted just such an article (slightly snooty about my friends caving in by adopting another Corgy after they had said “enough, no more”).   Well, this time, the joke’s on me – but what a lovely thing having to admit.

     After Pasha passed so suddenly Over The Rainbow Bridge, I did indeed say “After Lilliput goes, that’s it. No more cats.”
      But former neighbors of mine didn't put too much creed into my protestations. And so, one day when I invited them for a glass of wine, they brought - and left - their 8-year old cat with me. They knew he would be loved - and free to roam the house (once Lilliput allowed him to), without having to contend with a gaggle of dogs.
      So, there he was: TINKER. What a Face! They had rescued the kitten back in Texas as a stray and, of course, took it to the vet, having named it "Tinkerbell."
     When they requested the vet to spay her, he shook his head. "Can't do. However, I can neuter him." Hence, not only was this cuddly kitten ignobly snipped where prescribed, but so was its name.

INTRODUCING TINKER

    I think he might have a little Maine Coon in his checkered DNA; perhaps also Ragdoll. (The Coon-part is my opinion and I am sticking to it). Another mysterious part may just be "Howler-Monkey." 
    On the dot, every night at 3:00 AM, he emits very loud and demanding yowls. Some nights, I resists - for an hour. But it's no use. I have to get up and give him a scoop of "crunchies." 

     The side-effect for Lilliput is not good. She has already gained at least two pounds through these additional feedings. 

 Snoozing all day without much exercise also keeps the pounds on

While they are not bosom-buddies yet, 

at least they are comfortable with synchronized sleeping.

 And there you have it: "Never say Never." 

I did, failed miserably - and am glad of it.

  

R.I.P. Sweet Pasha

Thursday, October 27, 2016 - 4:25 PM

Best Ever Cuddler,

Joy-Giver,

Kitten-Sitter,

Big Brother to Lilliput.

Out of the blue, Pasha cried as if in great in distress. I found him lying on the floor spread-eagle, panting frantically, his pupils dilated. When I picked him up he hung in my arms limp. When I put him down gently, he could not stand. I immediately called my vet and tore down the winding hill at top speed.

The vet took one look at him, then at me; she said that I needed to sit down. Pasha had developed a fatal blood clot and was in great pain as his blood was pooling in his hind quarters (Saddle Thrombus).

I sat with him as he went to sleep.

Thank you, sweetest of cats,

for the years of pure joy you brought me
(except, of course, when you bit me - but we know whose fault that was).

Lilliput already misses him - it's no fun having the pillow all to herself.