Monthly Archives: February 2013

Tasty Ears

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As you know, Oliver had a doctor appointment on Monday for his out of control allergies. They are now, officially, under control. His eyes are not goopy. His lungs are not wheezy. His chin acne is clearing up.

And those ears…

The one ear was infected so Oli is getting ear drops. They are much harder to give because I have to put the dropper into his ear and try to tell if anything has dropped in while my grey kitten tries to get the dropper out of his ear. At least eye drops you can see if medicine is coming out. At least pills are a solid.

Evidently, ear drops are tasty. This afternoon, Kitten Thunder was in the condo. A bath started. There is really nothing cuter than the two kittehs washing each others’ faces. With their faces clean, Obi moved on to the top on Oliver’s head. That would include his ears.

Tasty, tasty ears.

Ears so tasty, it seems, that Obi really got into the cleaning. It required putting Oliver in a headlock. Then standing on top of him. And shoving his face all the way into the grey kitten’s big bunny ears.

I don’t know if his ears were really tasty. There’s a possibility that Obi was just taking care of his brother. He does that.

But the ears are sparkling clean.

***

For Christmas, my aunt gave me this squirrel feeder. It is hilarious. And hard to photograph from inside the house.

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Flat Ears

As I mentioned on Sunday, Oliver’s allergies are out of control and he’s scratched the heck out of his sweet grey face. I’ve been watching him closely. When he came up to me with a deep cut from the corner of his eye, I emailed his doctor for an appointment.

My friend, Dr. Tiffany, now has a mobile veterinary clinic. She and Laura, the vet tech, set up on the floor of your living room – or wherever – for the exam. Of course this is better than putting Oli in a car and driving him across town.

When Tiff and Laura walked in, they were greeted by Kitten Thunder. My kittehs are pretty good about being pleasant hosts as long as no one rings the bell. Before Oliver could remember where he knew Tiff from, Laura got a good grip and it was on.

They looked at his eyes. They looked deep into his itchy ears. And that is where they found an icky, puss-filled infection. He was not happy at this point and struggled.

Then he got ear drops. NOT OKAY!

Then he got a shot for his allergies. SUPER DUPER NOT OKAY!

Then they tried to cut his toe nails so he could stop cutting his face open. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!

Through all of this, I held Obi because if I let him go he would run to save his brother. It was very sweet. Except Tiff and Laura already had 14 pounds of screaming, hissing, flailing cat. They did not need ten more pounds of fluffy in the fray.

Sure, Tiff and Laura did all the hard work. But then they got to leave and I was left with two very angry cats. When Oliver stomped upstairs, Obi remained in the office to glare at me with his ears flat out to the side. BAD GIRL.

Oliver came downstairs once in a while for a snack. He would meow from the door to my office to get my attention. When I looked up he would give me the same flat eared glare and stomp off. BAD GIRL.

Obi took about four hours to forgive me.

Oli took around eight hours, just in time for bed.

Then, this morning, it was my turn to out drops in his ears.

BAD GIRL.

Bugging the Cats

No, this is not about small listening devices for feline implantation. That is what first jumped to the minds of my Facebook friends when I posted that Operation Bug the Cats was a success. But this is what really happened:

I was sitting at my desk when Oliver decided to use the litter box. I noticed that he’s quite a bit taller than the cover of the box. So I got to thinking about the covers of litter boxes and whether they were needed and whether my grey kitten would poo on the floor in front of his box less if it were uncovered.

Thesis created, my poor kittens fell victim to the scientific method.

I cleaned the litter boxes. I minimized variables by filling both boxes to the same depth with fresh litter. I left one box uncovered. My thesis would be strengthened, though not proven, if the uncovered box had more…stuff…in it.

The uncontrollable variable, though, is that Kitten Thunder has a solids box and a liquids box. It isn’t a hard or fast rule, but there is a preference.

But here’s where the experiment went awry. Obi is not a fan of open air peeing. He tried. He was very focused on it, then looked up and made eye contact with me. No. No no no.

He went into the the other box. No. No no no. To the open box. No. To the covered box. No. Open. No. Covered. No. Open. No no no. Closed…going to have to do.

So the results of this experiment. Not a bit of difference.

Not even slightly.

Do you have covered or uncovered boxes?

***

Oliver’s allergies are horrible this weekend and he has put deep, bloody cuts all over his precious grey face. Our favorite doctor, Tiff, has ventured out on her own with a mobile veterinary clinic (how brilliant is that?). We’re hoping for a house call tomorrow.

The tale, hopefully good, will be forthcoming.

We’d blog but…

The Boy is sick.

The Girl worked hard all day and can’t go back to the computer.

Oliver is having the snuggle he didn’t get at lunchtime with his Girl.

Obi is watching The Fugitive. He loves this movie!

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Coon Tails

Yesterday I had occasion to look up the traits of Maine Coon cats. Obi, we’ve always thought, has quite a bit of that breed in his mystery lineage. This was confirmed when the very first thing I saw on the web page was a picture of Obi. Well, a cat that looked just like him, anyway.

The description on the page fit him perfectly. He is waterproof. And his cute little chirp, it turns out, is a trait of the breed. They also pointed out that he would be more interested in ground games than climbing. The Boy can throw the flat mousie forever and Obi will bring it back to the rug over and over and over.

They also, the page says, are buddies more than babies. Not big on snuggling, they will hang out with their owners all day but prefer to sit in their own chair. Hence the aura snuggling. And that’s why I had time to read about cats…

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…I was getting a very rare lap nap from the brown kitten.

Obi stayed in my lap for over two hours. Trapped by rarity and specialness, I did not reach for my coffee. I did not get up to get food when my belly started rumbling.

Finally, I was set free when Obi’s tail escaped. It wasn’t anywhere on the page I was reading, but Obi has a very precocious tail. If he doesn’t hold it down, it flicks about. It slaps at The Girl. It slaps Obi in the face. It twists and turns in the air. And no one can nap through that.

Today, Obi was back to aura snuggling. And he had a good grip on that tail.

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Single Cats Awareness Day

Poor Obi doesn’t have enough toys. He just stole my chapstick off the coffee table. It is in the quilt cave.

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Yesterday Obi was playing with a pink plastic ring. He started his favorite game: throw the toy under the loveseat so the girl will dig it out and throw it. After a couple rounds with me, Obi decided The Boy might feel neglected. He took the ring over to the couch and threw it. Boy? Boy?

The Boy did not find the pink ring. Obi had to make due with what he did find – two flat mousies, a fuzzy, and a milk ring. Oliver showed up to snag the milk ring.

Poor brown kitten. How he suffers.

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State of the Kitten Address

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce and welcome the Chief Executive Kitten, Oliver Pi:

My fellow kittehs and kitteh lovers, we come together tonight to discuss the issues that face us as a fur-covered nation.

For too long, the hardest working of us kittehs have gone without tuna. We must work together to ensure that all kittehs, big and small, long haired and short haired, indoor…outdoor…tame and feral, get their fair share of tuna. There is no reason that a kitteh who puts in a full two hour work day should go without tuna.

If you give a man a fish, he might share it today. If you teach a man to fish, he will share for a lifetime.

Or get his fingers bit if he tries to keep it to himself.

There are fuzzies among us who think that cheese, CHEESE, is better than tuna. Now, we obviously don’t always agree. But I say to you that differing opinions is no reason to stop working together. My brother on the other side of the aisle still works with me each day to get The Girl out of bed. Together, we get her to the kitchen. What we choose to do with her presence is up to us.

Over the past few years, our inventory of toys has grown stronger. We have fuzzies (pause for applause), we have mousies (pause for applause),  and we have feather sticks (pause for applause). But we could do better. I am urging each and every one of you to contact my person and tell her that YOU want her to switch from soy back to regular milk. Together, we can bring the milk ring back to this household. 

And tonight I am taking on a new challenge. Tonight, I will monopolize the entire loveseat. Not just the side with a fuzzy blanky. Not just the side with the pillows. Both sides. I am up to this challenge. I encourage you to find a challenge of your own and conquer it.

Thank you. Good night. And may dogs leave America.

And now, the brown kitten response from Obi Wan Kittenobi:

Did someone say cheese?