Fort Folly

Not fooled by the nice weather that allowed me to drink a beer, barefooted, on the porch yesterday, I’ve been worrying about removing Obi’s cave from the end of the couch. You see, in the winter we think the cave is a blanket that should keep us warm.

Since he has started having his belly rubs on the quilt, rather than the rug, it is in serious need of a trip through the washing machine.

To ease the transition, I removed the cave at lunch time. Kitten Thunder and I then built a new fort.

This went over very well. It took a minute for Oliver to realize that he can’t walk ON the fort. We’ll see how long he remembers that. But once I put him inside, he was good.

Obi was a little reluctant to share the fort. The cave was a one cat deal. Oliver didn’t even like to be in the cave. But the fort is bigger and they learned to adapt – it has two boxes and at least a dozen toys in it, after all.

Then The Boy came home. Two kittehs met him at the door and then ran to the fort. “See what we built!”

But then there was a problem: where was the quilt for Obi’s belly rub?

Obi ran inside the fort and we heard him plunk to the floor. But The Boy is too big for the fort. At least that’s what he says…it’s not like he tried to get in or anything. The Boy is funny like that. Especially when he’s wearing work clothes.

So we’ll see what happens tonight. Will Obi go back to the rug? Will he collapse the fort so he can have his belly rubbed in the preferred location, two feet closer to the window? Stay tuned for updates.

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In other news, Friskies has a genius business plan that involves schmucks like me liking and sharing their videos for free. Kitten Thunder loves Friskies! In fact, it’s the only brand Oliver will eat – he refused from kittendom to eat the expensive brand that shall go unnamed. They should totally be the next spokescats.

Meanwhile, these are hilarious.

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How to Build a Fort

Step 1: Survey the build site.

Step 2: Clear the build site - but the kitten can stay.

Step 3: Strategically angle support structure for maximum usable space.

Step 4: Set up walls. The kitten will take it from here.

Step 5a: Check to see if the fort is big enough for two.

Step 5b: Decide it is not and chase off brother who is only mildly interested anyway.

Step 6: Knock walls down close to support structure to keep The Girl from joining you in the fort.

Step 7: Check the roof. The Girl, after all, is in communications not contracting.

Side note: Your fort should always have two entrances to allow for escape during a Thunder or if The Girl decides she wants to take your picture.

And finally: Relax and enjoy!

Today’s Thunder Thursday guest is our second dog – my friend Michelle’s pooch, Hazel. People at Michelle’s job think she does a lot of hard work, but we all know who is behind her success.

"Who moved the stapler?!? "

We provide our own siren.

Just like parents, it is hard for a cat’s people to hear him/her in pain or discomfort. Poco had asthma for over 20 years, but every attack made me stop and listen. I hoped it would be short. I hoped it would pass without too much pain. I hoped it would be only one attack.

Oliver has inverted sneeze, which sounds even worse than asthma when an attack comes. And since he can go months between them you can tell that Oliver is unsure what is happening. They are horrible. But they pass quickly.

Usually, they pass quickly.

"This is the face of discomfort."

On Sunday, Oliver had an inverted sneeze. It didn’t last long. A while later he was in the condo and I went to take his picture. I noticed he was a little wheezy. Then, later that night, he started to cough.

The coughing came in spurts – one cough every 40 seconds or so for several minutes. Then he’s put his head back down and nap. By bedtime he was still coughing but between he was having trouble swallowing. Neither of us slept well.

I did the math and realized it’s been several months since we’ve been to the vet.

So we were due.

Oliver wanted to eat on Monday morning. This is a good sign. When he doesn’t want to eat we throw him in the carrier and call the vet on the way there. The grey kitten loves his food. Unfortunately, his throat hurt so bad that when I went back to the kitchen to check on him he was just licking the gravy off the food.

I dialed the phone. The vet had an appointment at 2:30 p.m., which I took and I thought in relief about how much cheaper that was going to be that squeezing him in on a “same day” visit.

I hung up.

I saw Oli gag.

I called back and told them we were on our way in. Oliver wasn’t so sick that he couldn’t scream his fool head off the entire way there.

They have another new doctor – he’s tall and seems to “get” cats. Oliver would have liked him had the new doctor not been trying to pry open his mouth to examine his throat. Next time, maybe.

And the verdict? Allergies.

Good grief, kid.

He’s on his way back to fine. Prednisone, our drug of choice, for the allergies. An antibiotic just in case because he had a mild fever.

"Beware the dragon, for you are tasty and about to disturb the kitten's nap."

Why this picture? Because no blog is complete without Obi, right?