Category Archives: Pets (but mostly cats)

This is Sasha. If you look close enough you can see that she is missing her right ear and part of her left ear. They literally froze off two winters ago when she got caught out in a bad snowstorm. We had known the storm was coming and had made preparations for her but I guess she didn’t get the memo. She went missing until the snowstorm was over and she came back with shriveled ears that eventually fell off a couple of days after.

I fretted that this new development might endanger her in some way. I thought perhaps her hearing would be adversely affected but I needn’t have worried about that. She can hear very well.

She can talk very well too. In the picture she is caught in mid-sentence. She will carry on long conversations with you if you keep responding to her chatter. At one time I actually thought she was a shy kitty!

Sasha adopted us as her new family about two and half years ago. She had owners who lived in our neighborhood. She travels this neighborhood extensively and we had seen her many times before she adopted us.

She seemed to hang out with another neighborhood cat who befriended us one summer. We named that cat Isabelle until we finally realized he was a neutered male and changed his name to Isildore or Izzy for short. He didn’t really care what we called him. His owners called him T-cat.

We later found out that T-cat/Isabelle/Isildore/Izzy was owned by the same folks who owned Sasha. We never found out what they named Sasha. My daughter named her Sasha.

These folks moved away and took their cats with them. Two to three weeks later Izzy moved back to this neighborhood and shortly thereafter Sasha joined him. I guess they didn’t like their new home. Since their owners had left they began hanging out at our place even more so. Probably because we felt sorry for them and fed them.

At the time both of our cats, Cookie and Prometheus, were indoor cats. We didn’t want to add two more cats to the indoor mix. That would just be crazy. Later on, Cookie kicked Prometheus outside. He still comes in from time to time. I guess Cookie thought our house was just not big enough for two cats. She doesn’t mind if he visits.

Shortly after Prometheus moved outdoors, Izzy, who was becoming old and battle-scarred, disappeared. I was with my sons going to one of their yard-care jobs and I am pretty sure I saw Izzy lying dead in the street a few blocks away. When we came back home a few hours later his body was gone and that is the last we ever saw of Izzy.

Sasha had lost her best buddy. She eventually came to accept Prometheus’ friendship but they have never been as good of buddies as her and Izzy.

When we first befriended Sasha she seemed shy. She was extremely wary of us. I figure her trust issues are what have kept Sasha alive in this neighborhood for so long. It took a long time for all five of us to win her trust. She no longer runs when one of us walks out the door. Quite the contrary, she uses her super hearing and comes running to us.

This afternoon when I went outside to water my patio plants she came running up to me. She had a lot to tell me and went on and on for several minutes. Once she finished telling me everything she had been doing she rolled around on the patio with the sun shining down on her. She looked particularly happy today.

My daughter and I would love to make Sasha an indoor kitty but Cookie will have none of that. I can see the fur flying in my mind’s eye already.

However, we do have a plan for winter storms in the future. We don’t want anymore of her parts freezing off! We have made an emergency shelter for her in my husband’s shop. She has the run of the place and keeps it free of mice. She caught a large mouse just a few days ago while we were sitting outside. She played with it for a while and then ate it. Afterward she washed her face and was off looking for something else to catch.

That’s our sweet Sasha.

Yesterday, I wrote about the complexity of a cat, my daughter’s cat to be specific. Today I write about my cat, Prometheus. Complex name to be sure but there is nothing else complex about him. One day, when he passes out of this world and … well, I don’t know what happens to animals after that. But one day, his time on this earth will be over. At that time, after I have mourned his passing, I will get my first pure bred cat. I will get a Rag Doll. Some cat owners say that Rag Dolls are boring cats. T hat’s what I want, a simple, boring cat; probably not too different from my Promie.

Promie came to us from an acquaintance in a nearby town who said her sons noticed him shivering in the snow outside their window one winter. They took him in and since no one knocked on their door looking for a missing black cat they took that to mean he was homeless. I somewhat doubt this. Probably, he had an owner who had left him outside while at work and who probably thought he had gotten run over or killed by a dog which seems to be the end of so many indoor/outdoor cats. The owner probably never thought to knock on neighborhood doors looking for the missing black kitty. That is the story I’ve always entertained in my mind and I’ve always felt like the accomplice to a cat-napping since I agreed to take the “homeless stray” in.

Our acquaintance had named him, Bagheera, like the black panther in the Jungle Book. Except she forgot that Bagheera was a female panther. We renamed him, Prometheus because I didn’t want to call him “Spot” or “Fluffy” or some other boring designation. Since we were studying ancient Greece at the time I began reading off every Greek name in the text until we came upon one that everyone kind of liked. I thought it would be unique but since then have found out that many sci-fi tales seem fond of the name Prometheus as well.

Prometheus settled in to his new surroundings after three days. Before that he had kept a low profile slinking under one chair after another. Finally, on the third day, I plopped him in my lap where he sat for a while and decided he didn’t need to be so shy after all. He soon settled into a routine. He sleeps on my son Andrew’s bed at night. In the morning he likes to get in my lap or my husband’s lap and knead his paws for a while. My husband doesn’t like the kneading and discourages it. I think the kneading is a self-comforting technique that Promie uses and it reminds him of his kittenhood. I think he was very close to his mother, a favorite perhaps, and certainly not the runt of the litter. After he has finished kneading and purring he likes to settle in for a morning nap which is followed by an afternoon nap and then an evening nap before bedtime. In between naps he likes to eat, a lot. Sometimes he plays with my daughter’s cat, usually in the early morning hours. Our dog would like to play with him too but Promie just looks at him like he doesn’t understand playful puppy gestures. Promie will allow the dog to sleep next to him from time to time which somewhat comforting to the dog.

Promie would be the perfect cat except that he occasionally pees where he shouldn’t, this happens if I’ve forgotten to clean the cat box recently.  He also has the habit of licking his stomach until the hair is gone and his skin bleeds. We took him to our local vet, who seems more interested in livestock than pets if you ask me, who gave him a shot that did nothing to alleviate the problem.  I have a friend whose cat does the same thing except that her cat is also losing its hair. The same vet treated her cat unsuccessfully.  Promie isn’t losing his hair other than where he licks his stomach repeatedly.

I prefer our cats to be indoor cats only since we live close to Main Street. My daughter’s cat, Cookie, changed all that last summer however. She woke up one day and decided that she had never before seen Promie and she treated him like he was a stranger. Though she has never met a strange cat face to face, she often growls at strange cats that she sees outside the window. She began chasing Promie throughout the house growling and snarling at him.  Promie soon decided to take the opportunity to run outside anytime the door was opened. For a while we would scoop him up and bring him back inside. Eventually we had pity on him and let him stay out more often. Over time this seemed to ease Cookie’s new annoyance with him and now she mostly treats him in a civil and even playful manner. I guess she just needed more space.

Promie really does like going outside and he stays out of the street for the most part. He likes to stalk birds and mice. We found that he is a predator at heart and not just the big lovey, lazy cat we’ve always known him to be.  He is still a simple cat nonetheless. Simple but not simple-minded. He loved being outside in the warm days of summer. Winter came early this year, however. We had our first big snowstorm in October and it has been snowy and cold ever since. Promie despises the cold. He longs for the outdoors but cold weather is not a part of it.

He’s not normally a vocal cat but he does vocalize when he wants outside, quietly mewing his desire to be let out. One day he was doing this when it was storming outside. The temps were well below zero. I opened the front door for him nonetheless. He came toward the door but stopped short when he felt the first icy blast. He raised one paw off the floor and shook it, then he raised another paw and shook it, he raised his first paw again and shook it and then turned around and ran the other way.  Like the rest of our family, I’m sure he dreams of sunny, summer days.

This is Promie at Christmas wearing the dog’s reindeer antlers and not looking very pleased about it.

My daughter’s cat is a complex creature. I will never figure her out. Some cats are more complex than others. My cat, for instance, wants to eat often, sleep peacefully, receive affection when he’s in the mood to be affectionate, and go outside when the sun is shining and the air is warm. He is not hard to figure out. My daughter’s cat, Cookie, is something wholly different.

Cookie came to us a kitten. She spent the first month or so of her life with us in my daughter’s room. This resulted in her bonding closely with my daughter. Since she was supposed to be my daughter’s cat that was the result I wanted. When we finally let her venture out into the rest of the house she met two of our other pets – our dog and our other cat. Cookie took an immediate disliking to the dog which has lasted until this day. She next, established her dominance over the other cat by climbing atop of a pile of books and batting him on top of the head. The other cat thought she was great and they became best of friends.

The other cat (a.k.a. Cosmo) eventually had to go. He liked both the dog and Cookie but he didn’t like humans very much. Sometimes I wonder if part of his attitude wore off on Cookie. Cosmo bit my hand one day as I was trying to pet him. He was like that, friendly one minute and spiteful the next. My hand became infected within a few hours and by the end of the night it was throbbing. Another factor in his leaving was that my daughter would soon be undergoing a major surgery and a long recovery. Cosmo especially liked to torment her by hiding behind furniture waiting for her to walk by so that he could latch himself to her bare leg biting and scratching.  We gave him back to his previous owners who had a farm. He had begun life as a barn cat and so would be his end.

Cookie found herself being an “only cat” for a short while. An acquaintance had taken in a large male black cat that winter and named him Bagheera, which is a female name as it turns out. The acquaintance asked if we would like to have him in place of Cosmo. We agreed to her suggestion. I changed his name to Prometheus because I didn’t like the name Bagheera and because we were studying ancient Greece at the time. If he had come a bit later he could have just as easily been named Julius or Constantine. We call him Promie for short. He was supposed to be my sons’ cat but Promie liked me the best. I think he was a mommy’s boy when he was a kitten and I somehow remind him of his mommy.

Now, back to Cookie, the complex cat. Cookie decided she liked Promie in place of Cosmo which was fortunate for Promie at the time. Years later she would decide one day that she also hated Promie as much if not more than the dog. It was a strange couple of weeks. She acted like she had never seen him before. She would chase the poor thing around the house spitting, growling, and clawing. Thankfully, it was the summer and Promie decided to stay outside and away from her as much as possible. Over time and with the help of a squirt bottle full of water, we managed to convince Cookie not to attack Promie. From time to time she tries to persecute him but overall she treats him as a close friend.

At first, Cookie only liked my daughter as far as human companions went. My son, James, set out to change this. He began by scooping Cookie up in his arms and hold her every morning. She would complain loudly and he would talk to her calmly, relaxing his hold on her gradually until he wasn’t restraining her any longer. Still she would lie in his arms complaining loudly as ever even though she could jump down any time she liked. After a while she stopped complaining and she decided that she liked both of my sons in addition to my daughter.

Cookie tolerates me. She lets me scratch the top of her head as I walk by her but otherwise she ignores me altogether. That is unless she wants something like fresh water in the pet bowl. Then she will chatter and prance around the pet dish to get my attention.

She has no tolerance for two members of our household. One I’ve already mentioned, our dog. The other is my husband. I can kind of understand why she doesn’t like the dog. He is bouncy and hyper like all dogs in his breed. He is a Bichon Frise. She doesn’t like his bursts of pent-up energy when he runs madly through the house. So she growls at him and even attacks him from time to time. Sometimes she just tries to pretend he’s not really there. This confuses the dog because he never knows whether she is just going to walk by him with an aloof manner or come at him with claws flying.

Why Cookie is afraid of my husband is a mystery. He is the one who is responsible for us getting her for our daughter in the first place. She should be grateful but she is not. He has never done anything to her to merit her distrust or hatred. His attempts to befriend her are always met with claws extended.

The other night I watched her expression change rapidly back and forth from love to hate. Our family was sitting on our sectional sofa. My son, James, held Cookie. He was sitting next to my other son, Andrew. Cookie looked up at Andrew and you could see the emotion in her large eyes. She was literally adoring Andrew with her eyes. Then my husband sat forward and Cookie’s eyes flicked their attention on him. They reflected annoyance, hatred. She looked back at Andrew – love, adoration. Back at my husband annoyance, anger. It was weird, but that’s just Cookie.