Thought for the Day - 1/3/2025

Yoga is so much more interesting with a cat to nuzzle and nibble at your fingers when you're trying to do savasana (corpse pose).

Countdown to Spring - The Big and Little Cats of March

There's a saying that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb,  The latter part of that saying remains to be seen, but this month definitely came in roaring. March 1st was ushered in by some gusty winds, and there have been several days, today included, where it's been kicking dust and debris around at 30-40 miles per hour out there.  My deck and walkway have been littered with tree branches, what I refer to as Mother Nature doing her final housekeeping of the winter season by clearing away the dead branches so that the ones still with life in them have room to grow.

My winter housebound cats (their choice to stay in and keep their feet, faces and fur warm and dry) don't like going out when it's windy.  But last week, when the temperatures got into the 50s and 60s during the day, they were outside sucking up the light and heat of the sun anytime the wind died down.  They've also discovered that at around 8:00 AM (now 9:00 AM thanks to Daylight Saving Time that started today), the sun comes streaming in the balcony door and they can get their solar "fix" for at least an hour before it goes away and returns on the other side of the house around 11:00 AM.  So, while the big cat of winter may roar all it wants, the little cats seek out signs of it going away and of better days that are coming.  They're as tired of the darkness and chill as we are.

Only 6 days until spring.

Countdown to Spring - Following the Sun

So, after our most recent bit of heavy snow (good packing stuff – great for snowball fights), we had what I think/hope is the last arctic blast of this season.  As with the first two episodes of polar vortex breakout, I did waterline vigil, getting up multiple times in the night and making sure I still had hot and cold water running through the pipes, not frozen somewhere before that to the point of needing to wait until late afternoon before I could have my morning shower.  Yes, I'm always bleary-eyed and needing coffee more than just wanting it after doing that, but it's totally worth the effort in my book.  Besides, I'm used to sleep deprivation.

Signs of oncoming spring have been elusive.  There are some birds doing what I consider spring singing, year 'round feathered residents claiming their territory.  But I haven't seen any migrators yet.  The robins have not made their presence known even to the folks who tell me I'm late in seeing them every year.  My favorite little pussy willow, which normally is already in early fuzzy bloom, is only starting to bud.  Trees are starting to show signs of life, but it's usually more pronounced by now, although my coworker who taps maple trees to make syrup every year says the sap is running and he wasn't talking about a political candidate, either. 

But the days are getting longer and the sun is coming up more to the north on the horizon and is higher in the sky now.  It's only been within the last two weeks, but I've noticed my cats are seeking out windows and the space at my balcony door during the sunny periods of the day.  With the sun brighter and therefore warmer than the rumpled covers on the bed where the human was previously, they are basking their furry butts.  I totally get it.

Thing is, even after the sun has moved on and the rays are no longer directly coming through the glass, they're still staring out onto the outdoor world, likely with as much anticipation as their owner of escaping the great indoors after all this time.  But, while daytime temperatures in the 40s are friendlier, which is where they are now and are predicted to remain right until the last day of this now dreary winter season, they're still not inviting cats or humans to stay outside for any length of time.  The snow is  going away, but there still a lot left.  Underneath it, though, is brown and even some green.  So, the end of this winter solstice really is coming and will become a memory in less than a month.  Honest.

If you have Daylight Saving Time where you live, it's likely starting this weekend, so don't forget to turn your clocks ahead one hour before you go to bed tonight unless the clocks do it on their own (some do).

Only 11 days until Spring.

Countdown to Fall – The Re-Domestication of Diva

It’s happened every year for the six years she’s been with me.  This beautiful and quite social long hair, Diva by name and attitude, becomes an exclusively outdoor cat from May until October.  Mind you, I don’t insist she or any of the other cats stay outside during this time.  There are cat doors and they can come and go as they please.  This one not only doesn’t want to use the cat doors, but seems to forget how to use them.  Feeding her just means doing it outdoors, which wasn’t an issue until this year.

Now usually, she stays close to the house.  This year, she’s taken to perching in trees in my neighbors’ yards.  The reason why she doesn’t do that here is because I have tall trees which branch out too high for her comfort.  The trees she’s been calling her summer residence have cat-friendly limbs starting at six feet.  Easy to get up to, easy to pop down from.  Both gave her vistas of the neighborhood, but kept her hidden from view. 

About a month ago, I noticed that she wasn’t coming up to the house for meals on any kind of regular basis.  Turns out a fellow cat lover saw her in the trees and felt sorry for her and started to bring her food.  Make no mistake, this cat has the sad cat face and meow act down to a science.  This woman, a fellow exercise walker who normally walks up and back down the hill once a day was now doing it twice a day even when she wasn’t feeling up to it.  I finally saw her doing this kindness for Diva last Sunday morning.  I explained that she was my cat, not a sweet feral feline.  We had a good laugh about it and she stopped bringing her food.

So now, Diva was cut off and had to start coming home again for he meals.  I still have to call her, but now she comes to to the house and eats and drinks heartily, heading back down to her favorite spot after being fed, petted and scratched.  She still prefers being outside and that will likely continue until the night temperatures start dipping down into the 30s.  Then, all of a sudden, she’ll run in the front door and stay in until the weather turns warm enough for overnight outside habitation again.  She has to figure out the cat doors once more, but once she does, she’s completely self-service.  She locates the cat litters and uses them appropriately.  She’s always gotten along with the other cats except for her first year when she was establishing herself.  While she does like to glue herself to my bed (they all do), she also varies her in-house location periodically.  She likes a change of scenery, after all.

Only 7 days until Fall.

Countdown to Spring: The Cats of Winter

Brad and Diva

Beebles

Anyone who knows me, or has been following this blog for a while, knows that I mention my cats on rare occasion.  I try to keep it to a minimum because it’s bad enough to be looked upon as the crazy cat lady locally, worse that it extend out beyond my town’s radius.

Jay

However, I mention them now because, as anyone with a pet that has indoor/outdoor status – cat, dog, pot-bellied pig, etc. – knows that, while they appreciate the food, warmth, attention and love the great indoors offers during the colder months, they still yearn to wander beyond the confines of the house.  A lot like ourselves, actually.

I haven’t had a dog as a pet in many years.  I love them, but cats are just easier, especially in terms of going out.  Give them a cat door, shove them through it a few times, and they’ve got the letting themselves in and out thing down.  Dogs can do this, too, but there’s the whole leash law thing.

Dogs, especially the medium to large-sized ones, tend to love a good romp in the snow.  Cats, who don’t generally glide gracefully across the top of snow and kind of fall in and get lost, tend to wait until you’ve shoveled a path and then only go out as necessary.  I did have one cat many years ago who adored snow and would go outside and run in it with happy cat abandon, plow  through any drift and chase any size snowball that came her way.  Yeah, she was nuts, but it was a good kind of nuts.

Now, I have cats of regular winter mentality.  As in every other season, they sleep most of the time, demanding food at regular intervals.  But, there are also long sessions of staring out windows longingly and more frequent changing of sleeping locations.  It’s not that there’s anything wrong with where they were parked, they just needed a change of snoozing scenery.  There are the exercise sessions as well.  I’ve  initiated some of them with little cat toys and a little catnip.  But mostly, there’s spontaneous running and impromptu climbing of things that will hold them (and sometimes won’t).  These sessions become more frequent and sometimes more frenzied, no catnip influence required, as the winter months go by.  Kitty cabin fever. They’re bored.  They want to be outside, but can’t because snow is flying or it’s simply too cold to tolerate it for more than a short outing.  Like us, they’re waiting for warmer and greener days to reappear, when they begin to explore a wall-less world once more.

And I can’t wait to kick them back outside ‘cause they’re driving me crazy.

Only 41 days until spring.

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Responsibility Comes in All Ages

Yesterday, my beloved eldest cat, Sadie, died.  I found her near my porch, her back legs paralyzed and a deformity to her hip.  It was apparent she had been hit by a car.  She was in pain and there was nothing I could do to help her.  I had no way to take her to the vet, much less the money, to have her mercifully put to sleep.  She lived another hour and a half before finally succumbing to her injuries.

What was also apparent was that somebody had to have moved her closer to my porch, but didn’t bother to knock and say “I hit your cat – I’m sorry.”  I never heard her cry out because she couldn’t take a deep breath (broken ribs, possible collapsed lung), she had a soft meow to begin with, and my hearing’s not what it used to be.  She could have been there only a few minutes or she could have been there a few hours before I found her. 

I’m pretty sure I know who hit her, but I doubt he’ll ever come forward and admit it.  In some respects, this person is like the grade school kids who, for the first time, invaded my yard and started whacking at plants with sticks yesterday.  They ran away when noticed to avoid being caught, to avoid being discovered instead of owning up to the damage and apologizing.  I don’t know if the story about George Washington cutting down the cherry tree and then confessing to it is true or not, but I would take such an honest person as my neighbor or neighbor kid anytime.

My loving responsibility to Sadie was to be with her as she passed and I was.  She had me beside her, with comforting words and scritches all the while as she died.  My final loving and responsible act was to bury her and say goodbye.  My final act with regard to Sadie’s death will be to forgive the person who hit her.  That will happen, just not right away.  Guess I’m a bit flawed, too.

It is in our actions of honesty, responsibility, compassion, forgiveness and positive action that our true nature as a human being comes through.  I don’t expect my weed-whackers of yesterday to understand that yet, for they are still in the process of learning such lessons.  But, I kind of expect adults to at least try to get it right, setting an example for the next generation.

A Few Less than Syrupy Thoughts about Cats from a Cat Lover

Why, oh why do cats have to barf underneath the bed, almost smack dab at the center point, without my knowledge until a day or so later when my nose has to follow the odor to its offensive source?  It's like needing to find the remains of their last hunted critter after the same time period.  Trust me, ain't nothin' like the smell of decomposition - ew.  In those moments, I'd be much happier if they left them outside where they caught them instead of bringing them indoors to half-enjoy or abandon.

I'm not even appreciative of when they bring in dead game and leave it at my desk or next to the bed.  That's supposedly the highest compliment your cat can bestow upon you, hunting down dinner and leaving it for you.  Aw, that's so sweet, but Mommy isn't fond of mouse, mole, chipmunk, snake, or any type of small bird except maybe Cornish game hen.

Then, there are the moments of live game "fun".  I'm never sure whether it's just that they want to extend the thrill of the hunt for a while longer or if they're too well fed and just have no talent for it.  Either way, all the above named kitty trophies have occasionally arrived alive inside my home.  Through the years, I've tried rescues, snatching them from the cats and releasing them outdoors, trying to care for them, and even once taking one to a wildlife rehabilitator.  These efforts are rarely successful.  They may not be the greatest hunters, able to kill their prey quickly and cleanly, but sadly, they can do a lot of damage to a little bird, reptile or mammal.  Dead or alive, though, the wildlife goes back outside once I take over.

I look forward to spring and summer.  The cats go out and explore again, but more importantly, they're out of my face.  When it's cold out, I rarely hear the cat door swing or get a meowing request at the door to go out and play in the snow.  We're all cooped up together and getting on each other's last nerves.  I relish it when my bed becomes mine, all mine again.  They don't stay out all the time, but for some reason, they discover that there are other places in my home to curl up in.  Until about October, that is, when the falling leaves cause the return of cat life to the great indoors.  Guess where?

Until then, however, the feline hunting parties will continue.  Whether they bring in game for me or for themselves, I will be ultimately responsible for critter rescue and release or disposal.  Oh, I could keep the cats inside all the time and I'd never have to deal with dead or half-dead mice, etc. again.  But, I suspect having the kitty-kids indoors 365 days a year might be too stressful for a group that's been accustomed to an indoor-outdoor existence their entire lives.  It might also be detrimental to my mental health as well.  I'm really not a crazy cat lady and I'd like to keep it that way.

And regardless of whether they're indoors or out, I'd still have to deal with cat barf under the bed.