Typical Monday Morning

Before I begin, allow me to acknowledge that I recognize the below events are a sign of a life pretty well lived. As a good liberal Democrat/NY Jew, I feel I need to start with a little self guilt. And, given that I haven’t slept much in the past few days, this entry is just as much about capturing the events for posterity as it is for sharing the stories.

And now, on with the show.

I made it to work today. That, my friends, is an accomplishment. This past weekend was a whirlwind, mostly due to my father in law getting remarried and the surrounding events. I came in to the office slightly hung over, majorly fatigued, and with the hopes that it would be quieter than home.

Last night was the actual wedding and reception. It was a rather intimate, and quite elegant, affair. Honestly, the only downside of the night was the DJ, who only played songs that made me feel like I was at an 80’s Bar Mitzvah (think “Shout,” “Twist and Shout,” “We Are Family” and any other overplayed song you hear at these types of events). I would have been a better DJ. For serious.

P’s siblings were split between various tables, which I was initially nervous about, as it meant I’d have to pull out the shiny interactive me, as opposed to the quirky introverted me… These things can always be a crapshoot, and I am quite certain I am not the only one who has war stories of the people that were altogether inappropriate, dull, or otherwise incompatible.

Turns out I didn’t have to worry at all in the department, as P and I spent a large portion of the evening speaking with our table companions. The couple across from us were fantastic. New York dwellers who love living in NY. One of them was a writer for, well, let’s just say a TV series P and I kinda worship. And to her credit, she was cool with periodic gushing about how much we loved her show. On top of that, she and her fiancé were genuinely cool people. Thus ensued lots of clever jokes, funny stories, and general revelry.

I think I want to be their friends. I have a bit of a crush on their personalities.

Having brought the Wii with us to our hotel room (which I think is an entirely reasonable thing to do thankyouverymuch), we invited them back for some intro to the world of dorky gaming. Luckily, they were just as tired as we were, and didn’t take us up on it (although I totally would have played – being tired has never gotten in the way of my ability to indulge in a video game), although they did come by with their sweet dog to make an introduction.

We’re totally in.

P and I got to bed around 1am, and were up by 7:15 to squeeze in a few more minutes with sibs who live far away. I dragged my bum out of bed and into the freezing cold morning. A muffin helped calm my tummy from the past evening’s activities.

We got home to the reminder that our roof is being repaired today. Great for the house and all, but entirely unpeaceful if you want to have some quiet time before reengaging with the outside world. Our poor kitties were all hiding under the beds, and looked at us as if to say, “Are you going to kill us now?”

I went to go hop in to the shower to wash off some of the aforementioned revelry, only to discover that the roofer was working directly above the skylight in the bathroom. I wasn’t so much in the mood for a nudie show, so I skipped the shower and threw on work-ready clothes.

Truth be told, I kinda dressed up today because in my head tardiness is offset by how well you are dressed. It isn’t logical, but it makes perfect sense in my head.

So let’s do a brief recap: late night, with lots of good food and perhaps some alcohol involved, chatty chatty with new people, up early, no shower, loud banging as if the ceilings are about to fall in due to work on the roof.

My only chance for quiet was to head in to the office. As I am getting to my car, the woman who cleans our house every couple of weeks pulls up. I could swear this is not her week to come, and our house is a total disaster from having just arrived home yet not unpacked one iota. Could she show her friend around the house, who is going to be cleaning on her behalf while she visits family over the holidays?

Of course, I say, trying not to blurt out the fact that I wish her luck poking her way around the mail and other papers that’s been tossed about thanks to the freaked out cats, the laundry that is awaiting folding, and the sheer amount of crap that is all over the porch from the roofers.

I got out of there pretty quick, and found respite in cubicle land. Never did I think I would hear myself saying this, but it was actually more relaxing to come to work.

The perfect toy

Ari the charming cat has a habit of getting up with the sun. In the summer that means he is in your face around 5am, yelling at you to get up and play.

I admire his energy.

Last night, the most wonderful toy he could have ever imagined arrived. And it arrived at around 2am: a lightening bug.

Just as Guitar Hero feeds my love of both music and video games, this insect fulfilled Ari’s desires for a toy that a) moves constantly, b) lights up, and c) never gives out.

Both P and I were awoken by Ari’s running about, and I quickly realized what exactly the fuss was all about when I saw a little dancing light come and land near my head. The lightening bug buzzed about the bedroom for an hour or so (at least it seemed like that), going back and forth from the window to the bedroom door and back, with intermittent stops at the ceiling light right above our bed.

The only object between the window and the bedroom door is our bed. Thus, in human terms, this translates to an eight pound weight being bounced on you over and over, with periodic stops on top of your body if you happen to be near the middle of the bed. Plus the added noise of a chatty cat alternately meowing and attempting to climb the (very thin) curtains.

It was a circus. And even though P and I are both rather sleep today, it was very sweet.

Our cats, in a nutshell

Below are the actual notes left by the cat sitter during out recent trip to Fort Lauderdale. I think it captures each of the cats' personalities quite nicely...

"Day 1:
Hi! Both Abner and Ari were all over me and following me everywhere. Ramona just ate then she would run off when I got too close. We had fun with the toys then a good rub down for Abner and Ari. We had a very nice visit."

This one in particular sums them up:

"Day 2:
Hi! Fresh new snow this morning! Ari went on the porch for a bit then just ran around like a little crazy cat. Ramona ran for food, I told her it’s ok to save some for later. Abner is his usual sweet self; lots of hugs and kisses to offer. We had a very nice visit."

Over the next two days she experiences one of Ari's little knock-everything-off-the-table-one-by-one sessions:

"Day 3:
Hi! Looks like the kitties let in all the strays, to get out of the storm. Mail and other little things were all over the floor. Ari had all kinds of things to say. We had a very nice visit."

This one is a little more about the sitter than the cats, but she still takes the time to mention the party the cats hosted:

"Day 4:
Hi! Kitties had another party last night, there were things all over the floor. There was a red truck parked in front of the white house across from your driveway, when I went to park I hit it … Besides that, the kids and I had a nice visit. "

My favorite part of the below note: "like it was her last meal...." That's our girl.

"Day 5:
Hi! The kids were great! Ari always had something to day. I love that Abner lets me give him hugs and kisses now. They played tag with each other with the laser. Ramona just kept eating like it’s her last meal. We had wonderful visits!"

Good kitty

Our most active cat, Ari, just jumped on my laptop keyboard and created the following meeting in my Outlook calendar: KKKiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllll. Scheduled from 9-9:30 this morning.

Um, should I be afraid of him?

Technically the full text was:
n bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb nnnnnnnnnnnnn?KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllll

Perhaps he's only partially mastered the English language, and he's trying to tell me something larger...

Working from home

Today is the first day I'm exercising the option to work from home. Traffic on Fridays is stinky all around, thanks to MA residents heading either to NH or the Cape for the weekend. I can't blame them, as they are nice destinations. Heck, I look forward to being one of them.

I have a pretty sweet setup going on right now. Laptop, coffee, water, a napping cat on either side (I set out some fleece cat traps which are pretty much impossible to resist amongst the feline set), laundry being washed in the basement... And without the drive, it's like having three extra hours in the day. Nice.

Happily, the most active of our three cats, Ari, is one of the current nappers. He has an internal alarm clock that goes off at 4:45 am every day, at which time he starts to play with any noisy plastic bag he can find. And meow. This little bodied cat can meow like none other. P and I have learned to largely ignore it, but it does have the potential to leak into your dreams.

Three cats is a lot of cats. It feels like a tipping point of sorts, where suddenly there are lots of personalities, allegiances, triangulations of kinship, etc. in their world. At the risk of sounding like a crazy cat lady I'll stop there for now, but I may start logging some of their exploits here and there. It's a show, for sure.

Wisdom is overrated

I had my wisdom teeth removed last Friday. At the age of 34 it seems a little late to have this done, but periodic infections and the fact that they weren't ever going to find the space they need in my mouth dictated that they find another place to reside.

Overall, Friday’s events went better than I thought. I didn’t exactly know what to expect given the range of stories people opted to share with me, but the procedure itself was relatively painless (thank you, scientists who discovered nitrous oxide and novocain, and a good oral surgeon), and I switched from prescription painkillers to ibuprofen as of Saturday evening. I am still in the take it easy stage where I can’t really run, lift weights, or really do much of anything that puts pressure on my head (makes my mouth hurt in a weird way) – as you can imagine, that is the hardest part of it all.

On the bright side, the healing seems to be going well, my mouth has stopped randomly bleeding, I’ve become an expert rinser, and, perhaps most importantly, the procedure is behind me.

In this time of healing, I've spent a lot of time with the cats. I've been reminded that they really do sleep a lot. In fact, it is their main activity. If I move around they'll follow, but when I stop they find a comfortable position and nod off. Perdiodic playing, but mostly naps.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be back to running or at least something involving exercise. I am getting antsy. I went for a decent walk last night which felt good, but I paid for it with a headache that reminded me I am still not 100%. Twenty fours more hours of relative stillness will perhaps do the trick, and I will try for a 2 miler at a slower pace. If nothing else, to get over my fear that my mouth will bleed when my feet hit the ground with any force.

Plus, after a four day diet of yogurt, cream of wheat, bananas, and other soft things, I wouldn't mind something crunchy.

Not a trick I taught her

Ramona the Cat's new gig is to hop up on to my side of the bed at 5am, walk towards my head, and meow a few times in her high pitched tinny (and sweet) voice. Just enough to wake me up. Then she plops down for a minute (maybe three) to make sure I am fully awake, before hopping down to the floor and continuing with her morning. Note that she does not repeat this process with P, who gets to sleep soundly while this is happening. Unless, like this morning, I am startled enough to accidentally swing my arm and hit her... Oops.

Can't really blame Ramona for her crepuscular nature, but it does make it harder to sleep in the bright days of summer.

Or maybe I should just start running a little earlier in the day...

Inertia

P went away today. Off to have some quality time with her dad. Sweet that they are going away together, and I am glad that she has a whole week off. Life as a medical resident doesn't allow for much downtime.

I am on my own until Saturday. Just me and the cats. Who, by the way, are getting along much better. No more hissing, they sniff each other, etc. Ramona is still skittish, and I think that will last for another few months. She's settling in, but periodically has to go through retraumatizing events like a trip to the vet...

They told us she has to lose about 3 pounds. We could have told you that. Having watched Ramona clean her stomach, it is evident. Here is her current method: first, lean back on to tail region such that back paws lift up into the air. Then, take left paw and lift the flesh towards the head. Last, lick the belly. It is very funny to watch, and methinks the habit will (sadly) disappear along with the extra weight...

Speaking of extra weight, I have had an uninspired week of running. I went yesterday morning only through sheer will. And, of course, it was beautiful and enjoyable. It's all inertia.

When you're hot you're hot...

And when you're not...

Friday was one of those running days that you look back upon and think, "that was one of the bad ones." There are days you feel like a champ, and days that suck. Friday was closer to the suck end of the spectrum.

Here's a small sample of the things flashing through my head whilst running:

1. I'm tired
2. I miss Ichabod
3. I hope the new cat and Abner get along eventually
4. I can't wait to get home so we can officially release New Cat from the bathroom and let her explore the house
5. I'm beat
6. Why am I running? I'm beat.
7. You set a mileage goal this month. This is the last little bittle of it.
8. Technically you're already there, if you include the 4 miler sans Nano last week.
9. I want it to be "official"
10. What happens if I don't hit one of the goals I set on the Nike+ site? Is there negative feedback?
11. Why do I care so much what a computer thinks of me?
12. It's not the computer - it's you v. you, idiot. That's part of why you run.
13. Maybe I won't run the whole loop
14. Do I like to run on Friday afternoons?
15. What a long week at work.
16. Next week isn't going to be any better.
17. I need to work on that presentation for Monday...
18. Am I going really slow?
19. What happened to my headphones? Why is the left earpiece blinking in and out?
20. How annoying that the sound keeps flipping on and off on my left.
21. I wonder what's causing that? [tests various arm positions]
22. Maybe I should make "Holiday" [Green Day, not Madonna] my "power song"
23. Screw you, left earpiece. These headphones are done.
24. Maybe I should make "Holiday" [Madonna, not Green Day] my "power song"
25. I'm tired.
26. I do like running Friday afternoons. It's one of my favorite times of the week.
27. You know, you don't have to run the whole loop if you are just going to be miserable.
28. I hope the cats start to like each other...

And so on and so forth. No focus, no concentration. I turned around after 1.5 miles and came back home. Total distance: 3.2 miles.

PS - New Cat has a new name. Ramona. P wanted to name her Fannypack Shizzlestein (Fanny for short), but I couldn't really see myself talking about our cat Fanny. So now she's Ramona Fannypack Shizzlestein. Pictures soon to follow.

And baby makes four

We made the move. There's a new cat in town.

Yesterday, P and I went to the local animal shelter to meet a cat we've had our eye on for the past week or so. She's all black, has oversized ears on a tiny head, and is somewhere around 4, give or take. She looked sweet and goofy in the pictures, and that's what we need given our other, more skittish, kitten.

Going to an animal shelter makes one want to sell their house, buy land, and take all the animals home with you. Then you wonder how you will afford to buy any of them food, and you go back to the initial plan of just getting one.

We came, we saw, we brought her home. Her name is currently Emma, but that is still up for discussion. We are considering naming her oomlaut the cat (insert two dots over the "a" in cat). Ooma for short. I'm open for other ideas.

When they handed her over, they also gave us her records from the shelter. She's come a long way, baby. She arrived, abandoned, at four pounds, not wanting to eat. Clearly she got over that, as now she's a bit of a porker. We'll be working on that. I also think she wasn't so into the whole bathing thing while in the shelter, as we basically brushed a full cat off of her last night. And there's more where that came from... Just you wait - with some better food, more chance to exercise, and lots of patience, she'll be back to her old self.

Ooma, Emma, whatever her name will be, is getting used to the new digs. She spent last night and today in the upstairs bathroom, getting used to being in a quiet, non-cage space. When we first brought her home, she was definitely a bit freaked (having spent the last four months in the shelter, that's not a shocker). In that small area, she started to warm up and show her personality.

Abner is not so thrilled with the whole situation. There's been lots of hissing both ways, but neither of them seems, thankfully, to be a fighter. They just stare at each other from a distance. I sort of want to pick them up and rub them together so they just get it over with.

This weekend is semi-dedicated to breaking them down and building their relationship. They don't need to be as tight as the Abner/Icky show, but tolerance would be nice.

Tonight we are working on relationships, and watching episode after episode of "Sex in the City." It never gets old.

Back on the pavement

I went running yesterday for the first time since last week. Bewteen feeling sad and traveling for work, I haven't made the time for it.

My route yesterday was a typical 4.2 mile run that I follow if I am taking off from my work parking lot. It is a lot of ups and downs. With fresher legs, I was able to tackle the hills faster than usual. It was also just good to feel like I was pushing myself, as I hadn't in days. Final mile time was just over 10 minute miles (including pauses for traffic and calf stretch at mile 3), and I thought that was pretty decent given that I took a week off. Get me on the mostly flat rail trail and I'll come in around 9:45 for the same distance.

I thought of this run as my Ichabod memorial run, given that yesterday was a week since her untimely end. Prior to going home that night, at just about the same time as I was running last night, I had been out on my motorcycle, taking a little extra longer to come home, enjoying the warm weather and blooming trees. I'd stopped to pick some lilacs, as they were finally in bloom. I remember riding home in a fantastic mood.

Things can change really fast.

Still, Icky was a total trooper through her whole ordeal, and as I was plodding along I thought about that route, and how she was really brave. I feel a little silly basing a run on my cat, but there you have it. The Ichabod memorial 4.2 miler.

Little tributes

This morning while shifting some laundry off the couch, I came across a perfect little paw print on the cushion. It was classic Ichabod - she was always hopping on things after going in the litter box (the corn based litter we use produces yellow dust which sticks to their fur) and leaving telltale pawprints everywhere.

I didn't have the heart to wipe it clean.

In my last post, I don't think I mentioned how much she loved to be dirty. She had a knack for finding the dustiest spot in the house (particularly basement corners), and rolling around until she was nice and coated. For such a pretty cat she had no regard for appearances. A good lesson, I suppose.

We got a card from our home veterinarian today. She wrote a really nice note, and made a point to say that our decision to euthanize was the kindest decision we could have made given the circumstances. While it made me cry all over again, I really appreciated it.

I've been really happy with this vet, with this card just sealing the deal. Last time we went, Abner got scared in the car and managed to poop himself. I wondered what the smell was as I was in the waiting area, and realized that it was one of mine.... Poor guy didn't even move - just froze in place.

I was a little embarrased about the whole sitch, but the vet totally turned it around. "Well, we know who's sample this is. That's helpful," she said, adding, "and from the looks of it he seems like a really healthy cat." Now I was semi-proud of my scaredy cat.

Never did get Icky's sample, but it doesn't really matter at this point.

We also recieved flowers from some friends with a really sweet note. While I know they intended the flowers to be the main gift, and they really are lovely, the box they came in was equally exciting. It had compartments, and a little rung of plastic was affixed to the interior side wall. It is still on the kitchen floor, providing a new fort and castle for Mr. Fabulous. He isn't quite as adept as the Ick, but he's trying. I'll leave it out a little longer so he can practice.

Abner, Fabner, Abs, Mr. Fabulous, Ab Fab, Fey Kitty... All the same guy. He's a cat - he could care less what we call him.

Icky la Picky Wicky - In Memoriam

Today is a sad day.

If today were yesterday, I would be sitting here at my desk with one of my cats, Ichabod (aka Icky), on my lap. But today is today, and Icky is sadly gone. She had just turned 5.

It all happened so fast, and was completely unexpected. In short, she had a saddle thrombus, likely as the result of heart disease. We always knew she had a slight heart murmur, but it never impacted anything she did judging by her playful actions. Once the episode ocurred, it went downhill very quickly. We did everything we could, culminating in a late night trip down to Angell Memorial in Boston (they were wonderful) to get a second opinion and see what options we had. In the end, it would have been a terribly quality of life, and a short life to boot.

It was, in a word, awful.

Luckily, we have good friends who were selfless and made the evening a little easier. P was on overnight call when this all happened, and one friend was able to come in and cover what is a pretty sucky shift. When his girlfriend asked what he was doing, he explained saying "she would do it for Mike." "Who's Mike?" she asked, having no idea. "He's the dog we're going to have one day." I thought that was really sweet.

Another friend drove P down to Boston from Concord (an hour and a half drive), so she didn't have to drive there alone. She even packed us a few snacks (none of which we could eat as we were both nauseous from the whole thing). She came in to the ER, gave us hugs, and left. Yet another friend sat on the phone with me while I was driving to Boston, assuring me that I was not crazy to make the drive, and just understanding what Icky's life meant to us.

How can you repay this kind of kindness? Having P there made all of this a bit more bearable - I did not want to have to go through it all on my own. Plus, P is a little braver than me in medical situations. Perhaps most importantly, I would have felt terrible if she never had a chance to say goodbye.

I write the above because I know people are always curious as to the cause and the story. However, from here on out I'd like to focus more on her life and how cool a cat she was. So, in no particular order, here is some of what made Icky, Icky:

Every night, around 10:30, she would drag a plastic dowel with a fleece strip attached up the stairs and into our bedroom. It would click up each step, and when she got to the top she'd loudly announce that she had arrived. Sometimes her pronouncement almost sounded like she was saying "hello" (although training her to say that on command was a total failure).

If it were colder outside, she'd then hop on to the bed right where my head lay. This never failed to scare me, even though I knew it was coming. She'd walk over my chest and stand on my right side, scratching at the blanket. That was my cue to pick up the comforter a litle bit so she could crawl under. She would then proceed to circle and plop down near my hip, instantly purring. When P was around, she'd sometimes fall into the small of her back. Inevitably, she would stay for about 10 - 15 minutes, and then crawl out of the blankets and hop off the bed. I considered this her way of tucking us in for bed.

I got so used to it, in fact, that now when traveling it is a little harder for me to fall asleep. I am conditioned to her gentle purr.

Of our two cats, she was the brave one. And the goofy one. She'd be the first to venture out and greet guests (they rarely meet Abner, the other cat, unless they are overnight guests). As a chatty one, she'd say her hellos and rub across your leg as a greeting.

The chattiness... I loved her voice, and that she always had something to say. We had entire conversations.

She had the softest fur of any cat I've ever known. It was thick and so silky that it was cool to the touch. Anyone that ever stroked her agreed.

She was incredibly curious. We purposely saved boxes a little longer to give her (and Abner) a chance to make a temporary fort. It generally took less than 10 seconds of seeing the box before she had to investigate. If at all possible, she would gnaw at the cardboard and spit out bittles of cardboard everywhere. I never minded picking that up; it was clearly a source of pleasure.

She was a bit of an adventurous eater. Our habit of late was that I would finish eating my morning cereal, and then leave the bowl for her to lick. She was particularly fond of Grape Nuts, and Kashi-type cereals that contained "twigs." She also loved nutritional yeast. Just yesterday I made toast with butter and nutritional yeast, and made sure to share some with her. Part of the reason I made it in the first place was because I knew she'd like some. I was a sucker for that cat.

She was a terrible jumper. Her body always seemed a little long for her legs (or maybe just her legs short for her body), and as a result she uncovered ways to jump in increments, using whatever she had around her. I will sorely miss the morning routine of getting out of the shower and leaving the shower curtain slightly open so she could hop on to the tub as her first step in getting on the counter. She would sit and patiently wait for me to do so every day.

She loved to rub her face on anything with an edge. I'd say we tested every edge and corner in the house. I'd pick her up to try a new one, she'd test it out with a good rub, and if the paws started kneading, we'd head back. Her favorite things, however, were rolled up magazines and the brim of a baseball cap. The baseball cap was a double bonus because you could steal some belly rubs as well.

Her hips were incredibly flexible. As someone with a history of back problems, I always envied that in her.



She was good to Abner. They are both shelter rescue cats, and we wonder what their first few months on this planet were like. She was found in a dumpster (which we think explains some of her eating habits), and he was found wandering streets. He has remained skittish, although not mean, and looked to her to help him understand what he should try out. If she rubbed her face one somthing, he'd try. If she wanted to check out a box, he'd want to check it out, too. If she was laying down somewhere, he'd want to be on top of her. She always let him cuddle in, and without fail was the spooner, not the spoonee.









She was my cat. She'd follow me around, and perch herself on or near me. If I was working, she'd nap or bathe or just hang around. Don't get me wrong, I love both of my cats, and am glad that Abner is still around, with all of his quirks and habits. But Icky and I had a special thing going.

That's just a small sample of the reasons why my heart is broken. It's hard to think of her in the past tense, as everything was just fine until, well, it wasn't fine. In a sense I am glad that she had a fantastic 5 years and went quickly, but that's small consolation compared to the fact that she's gone. I can't believe she's gone...

Abner is now sitting on my lap. It's a new day. It isn't quite the same, but I appreciate his kindness.