Surprise, Surprise...

I went to Austin to visit my kids for four days.  My son performed in a show some friends of his put together, and he wrote and performed a rap song...in gold lame pants and spray-painted blue shoes!  It was fun and interesting...I got tired just watching them run around the stage.

While I was there, the temperature, with the heat index, was somewhere around 105 degrees.  My daughter doesn't like to use her air conditioner, mostly because it runs up the electric bill, but also because she's used to the heat.  My son, who shares the house, finally decided he needed an A/C for his room, so we went to Lowe's and bought one.  I'll let them work it out.  They're good at compromising with each other, and Dan is willing to pay extra to stay cool.  On my last evening, my daughter finally relented and turned on the A/C.  I think my red, sweaty face convinced her that I'd have heatstroke if she didn't cool things down!

I almost made the trip home Sunday in six hours.  Usually, I get home six hours to the minute, and that includes a gas/potty break.  But I hit the Kountry Korner store in Marquez at a late shift change and had to wait 10 minutes to buy a Coke.  That put me home about 15 or twenty minutes later than usual, but I was in the door by 5:30pm.

My inside cat greeted me with strident meows.  She followed me around all night, even climbing in bed with me, which she hardly ever does.  But I figured she would have her kittens soon, and she did--between my knees, under the coverlet on my new bed!  I slept through the whole thing.  I'm just grateful I didn't roll over on them. 

When I was in junior high school, our family dog, Lady, had her puppies in bed with me.  I slept through that, too!  I had to sleep on the sofa until she moved the babies. 

The four kittens are beautiful, and, as I hoped, one of them looks like Buddy, the tomcat who disappeared about a month ago.  So, I have a replica of him, though nothing will replace him.  My awful neighbor gave Buddy to me--the only remotely "nice" thing she's done since she moved in.  He was my "puppy cat" and followed me around.  A sweet tomcat.  I miss him.

I'll take a picture and post it as soon as things calm down. 

Springing Forward...

Written on March 7, 2009

I hate daylight savings time.  Let me just get that out of the way.

I do like more daylight in the evenings, but I hate the whole changing the clocks twice a year, especially in my car.  If cars didn't have digital clocks, maybe I'd feel differently about it, but when the time changes, I have to get out the manual and figure out how to set the clock.  I don't like having the wrong time staring at me while I'm driving, so I become obsessive about fixing it.  I'm wishing the car clock had a stem, like a wristwatch does, so I could do this more easily.

The other thing I don't like about DST is that my cats aren't on it.  They'll keep waking me up on their own internal schedule.  Doesn't matter if the clock reads 5:30am; if they want me up, they're going to find a way to get me up.

I'll bet we don't really know what time it is anymore because we've sprung forward and fallen back so much.  Einstein is right; time is relative.  Too bad I can't live on my internal clock; I'd be in perpetual nap time.

*****

I finally finished the assignments hanging over my head (Saturday) and went outside to clear the herb garden.  I love my herb garden.  Fresh herbs make foods more flavorful, and I like not having to pay for them since they are so expensive (even the dried herbs are expensive these days).  Now to get the vegetable garden dug up and planted, which I will do next weekend. 

Teaching summer school online is the only way to go!  With only one class, I can spend more time on my gardens.  Inevitably, of course, I have to work on my fall classes, but not having to drive into the "big" city saves me so much time.

*****

Now to get the front garden cleared out and plant some flowers.  Today is also bread-baking day.  I'm out of bread, and I hate paying the ridiculous prices for that airy stuff that passes for it.  I have a great recipe for French bread that makes four loaves.  It freezes well and goes with anything I cook.

I might be done with schoolwork for the day, but it seems that I've made myself quite a to-do list here.  Better get started!

Why I Prefer Cats...

I said something witty about this is class the other day, and I feel compelled to write about it.

A cat will never try to be what it is not. It will not be a dog (though cats can growl). It will not seek attention unless it wants it. A cat will leave you alone until it deigns to acknowledge your presence and will suffer your attention until its had enough. A cat will not turn out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. It is what it is.

A cat will not tell you it's off catnip when it's not. Cats don't hide their addictions or fascinations. If they catch something--a bird, a mouse, a rat--they will proudly drop it at your feet, alive or dead. They do not hoard or hide things from you.

A cat will not tell you where it has been, even if you ask. So you don't have to hear all the sordid details about what it did last night or where it went or who it was with. A cat will come in, eat something, then stretch out on the sofa for a nap.

A cat will not borrow the car, get drunk, and wreck it. It will not borrow the car to go visit its other caretaker. It won't take your car and run off to California with someone it just met yesterday.

When a cat gets sick, it doesn't whine. It will let you schlep it to the vet's office and will sleep until it recovers. It does not expect you to wait on it hand and foot.

Cats don't pretend to listen to you. They don't listen. A cat will do what it wants to do and make no pretense of caring what you think. Cats only pay attention if you pick up a spray bottle full of water and threaten to wet them if they don't cease and desist. But, the minute your back is turned, they'll do exactly what they want.

You can leave a cat alone for a week, as long as you leave it plenty of food and water and a clean litter box. It won't invite the gang in for a party because it doesn't know how to dial the phone on purpose. A cat won't run up your phone bill and will only send email accidentally.

If a cat is mad at you, it will let you know--really--in messy and obvious ways.

I'm sure I haven't covered everything. If you read this and think of something to add, leave a comment!

I Got My Answer!

I have the annoying habit of losing track of time when I'm reading. It's a terrible curse, I know! So, if I'm reading late at night (or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it), I don't realize how late/early it is until I take a break. That means I usually don't get to bed until 2am or so. One of the perks (?) of getting older is that I don't sleep as much (unless I'm exhausted), and I get up early in the morning.

Right before I went to bed at 2am this morning, the rain began. Well, we did have a brief, heavy rainstorm yesterday afternoon (right after I watered the garden), but the rain at 2am was fierce. I crawled into bed to strikes of lightning and growls of thunder. I couldn't sleep with Mother Nature's grumbling. At 3am, I was sitting in the living room, waiting for the dish TV system to locate a signal. I think I finally went to sleep at about 4 or 5am. And I got up at 8:30am, so I know one person who will take a nap this afternoon.

My garden loved the rain, in spite of the small limbs that the wind shook down on it. I found my one tomato on the ground. I'll let it ripen on the window sill. I had to stake another tomato plant, but, other than that, everything seems to have survived. I just hope all of my gardens have enough water for a few days. I guess this calls for a tour of the yard to make sure everything is okay.

To change the subject, my cats annoy me. We were down to the bottom of the food bucket where the "old" food is. It stays fresh because the lid snaps on tight, but it's a brand of cat food they don't like, so none of them would eat it. I filled the bowls up yesterday and this morning, and they just sniffed at it and walked away. And, boy, do they complain! "Meow, meow, meow. Lady, when are you going to get some decent food? We want the good stuff, and we mean NOW!"

So, off to the store I went, the dutiful servant--I mean "master." For a large bag of cat food and a four-pack of toilet tissue, I spent almost $20. What the heck is going on here? I guess I could lead the cats away with a breadcrumb trail of expensive treats. They'd just come back. I just know it. But how can you not buy toilet paper? Can anyone recommend a substitute? Gee, on second thought, I don't want to contemplate an alternative.

I guess what I'm saving on gas for the car I'll be spending at the store. Since I'm a big conspiracy buff, this is what I'm thinking. I think the oil companies are helping themselves to our money in order to persuade us (extort us?) into letting them drill for oil in the Alaska Reserve and off the coasts of our beaches. That's just what I think. Of course, I think we're contributing to our own hardships by driving huge cars, driving too fast, and driving too much. I'd love to see more people in jobs where they could telecommute. Companies would save overhead by not having to rent huge buildings (sorry, realtors!), and people wouldn't be driving so much. I realize this isn't possible in every type of business. Sometimes, you have to have an office, and you have to drive. But wouldn't it be nice if more people didn't have to? We could cut our oil dependency somewhat if we could just stay home.

It's too bad more people don't live closer to the necessities, such as grocery stores and dry cleaners. Maybe the "old days" have something to teach us about community living that we've forgotten.

Raindrops keep falling on my head...

so I'm staying inside, doing inside work.

I edited two files for NAF, and reviewed a transcript I spent 11 hours typing yesterday. Really, if you've never done transcription, word up--a one-hour voice file takes me anywhere from nine to twelve hours to transcribe. Seems slow, maybe, but I edit as I go. Most transcriptionists just type what they hear and ignore punctuation, etc. (That's why I edit transcipts, too. The punctuation usually sucks.) I was up until 2am doing that; I slept until almost 10am this morning, which was nice. The rain kept the sun from shining in the bedroom window--the sun always wakes me.

I was going to tackle the periwinkle bed that surrounds the pecan tree in the back yard, but I guess I'll postpone that until later in the week. I did transplant irises yesterday. I had a bunch around the carport; I dug those up. My mom gave me a bag full, so I dispersed them at various points in the front and back yards. Hopefully, I'll have a riot of color next spring--purple, blue, yellow, white.

Oh, and does anyone want a kitten? I have a feral cat who had five cute kittens--two solid gray, two gray and white, and one gray with a few white accents. I need to trap the mother and have her neutered (anyone have a cat trap?); the babies aren't too scared of me yet--I can pick them up--but the mom will eventually make them run away from me. I need to find homes for them now, so, if you want one, let me know, and you can come catch the one you want.

I restarted my sourdough starter and baked some sourdough biscuits this morning--yummy. And I made a loaf of artisan bread--one of the easiest bread recipes in the world. No kneading, really, but the bread needs a first rising of from 8 to 12 hours. I added wheat flour to this loaf; it's also yummy. I think I'll tackle sourdough bagels tomorrow. I have a simple recipe for those, and I used to make bagels all the time. The price of flour has increased, but it's still cheaper to buy the flour and make my own bread. A loaf of bread costs almost as much as a bag of flour; I can get six or seven loaves of bread from a bag of flour.

Here are two simple bread recipes:

Beer Bread

2 1/2 cups self-rising flour (if using unbleached, add salt, baking powder and soda--you'll have to figure out the measurements for those!)
1-12 oz. can/bottle of beer, cheap or expensive, your choice.

Pour 1/2 of the beer into the flour and stir (no sipping!). When absorbed, pour in the rest of the beer. You can add shredded cheese, garlic, veggies, whatever, to this bread. Scrape into a large bread pan and bake at 375 degrees until done, about 45 minutes.


Artisan Bread

I got this recipe from Mother Earth News.

You need a covered crock to bake this in. I use the insert from my crock pot. Works great. But don't bake this in a metal pan--you'll have to pry it out with a crowbar! And be careful with Pyrex--that may shatter at such high temps.

3 cups unbleached flour, bread flour, wheat flour, or a combination.
1 tsp. salt
1/4 teaspoon yeast (if you buy the packets, you don't need to use the whole thing--just 1/4 tsp.)
1 1/2 cups warm water.

Dissolve the yeast in the water. Add the flour and salt and stir. The dough will be wet and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap or a towel and set to rise in a warm place for 8 to 12 hours.

Dump sticky dough onto floured surface; fold dough on itself 4 or 5 times, flouring as you go. Shape into a round loaf. Dust a towel with cornmeal; place the loaf on the cornmeal towel; dust the top of the loaf with flour. Cover with a towel and let rise for 2 hours.

About 20 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place the pot in which you will bake the bread in the oven to preheat it. After 20 minutes, take the pot out of the oven, slide the bread, cornmeal side down, into the pot. Place cover on pot and return to oven. Let the bread bake with the cover on until the top turns just brown (about 30 minutes). Remove the cover from the pot, and bake for another 15 minutes or so, until a probe inserted into the bread comes out clean.

Remove the pan from the oven, remove the bread from the pan, and set to cool on a wire rack. Wait at least an hour before cutting. Really good for thick sandwiches or with a pot of homemade soup or stew.

So, make a loaf of bread! It's another way to destress and to enjoy the fruits of your labor!

A Visit to the Vet's Office

I took Golum in this morning. He had an upper respiratory infection, nothing too serious, according to Dr. Jeff, but Golum did get a shot and some medicine. When I got home with him this afternoon, I let him out of the carrier, and I haven't seen him since. I hope he comes in soon so I can give him his antibiotics.

Dr. Jeff's a good animal doctor. He's funny and compassionate. He's also on call at the sale barn next door to his clinic, and, when they have sales (as they did today), he spends most of his time over there. But I like that he lets his kids hang around and help out with the smaller animals. And he's so country. Today, he was wearing his overalls and high rubber boots!

I'm sure that Golum will recover, but I also know that I can take him back to Dr. Jeff's without breaking the bank--that's the best thing! I can afford to take care of my pets.

Oh, yeah. Boudreaux brought in a bird this morning, but didn't quite know what to do with it. I took the bird back outside, and it flew away (Hooray! Cats: 6 Birds: 1).

What the Cat Dragged in...

This time, the mouse was dead. And it wasn't Golum who rolled it around on the carpet; it was Bubba, a normally staid, mostly remote cat. He doesn't "talk" much, he does like to be held and scratched, but he won't sit on my lap. He surprised me.

In order to get the mouse out, I had to roll it through the kitchen with a stick (Are you kidding? I'm not going to touch it!). I had to close the kitchen door until all traces of the critter disappeared. I don't know if the cat ate his prize. All I know is it's not in my house anymore.

I understand that cats are hunters. I just wish they wouldn't bring in everything they catch or kill (including live chickens).

Oh, and the possum came back. I thought I heard voices outside last night, and I went to the back door to see if they were coming from my neighbor's yard. She's been burning leaves and whatever else for two days--the haze of woodsmoke hangs in the air. I went to open the back storm door, and the possum and I both jumped. I think I was the one who screamed. It went under the house. So I'm having to put the boards back in the door to keep it from coming into the house. Who would have thought that "country" living could be so perilous?

Sometimes, You're the Bug...

Yesterday was not a good day, overall. I'm sure, in retrospect, it wasn't worse than any other day I've had in my life, but it's not one I want to linger over.

There's the whole "end of semester" craziness, of course. Students who panic now when they should have panicked a great deal earlier--they are driving me nuts. How many times can I say, "Don't talk to me about grades during dead week," or "I won't read late work" before they listen? So, all this late work that I won't grade piles up, and they wait until now to mention it. Too late! I have enough to do right now; I don't have the time or the inclination to grade work that should have been graded a month ago.

So, yesterday morning, I went to the grocery store to get what I needed so I could hibernate this weekend, stay in and grade papers and catch up on things I need to do. I'm the "I'll take my groceries out myself"-type of woman; it's not that I don't want to tip the bag person, or anything. I just know he/she won't be carrying my groceries in my house for me.

As I'm signing my name to the receipt, the sacker starts putting my paltry haul into bags for me. I only had two light bags and a big bag of cat food, so I knew I could carry those out. When he asked me if he could take my purchases out for me, I said, "That's okay. I can do it." I came around the end of the check-out stand, picked up my bags, and proceeded to trip over the two boxes the guy had dropped at the end of the stand.

I didn't see the boxes; I didn't know he had dropped them there because I was not watching him while I was signing my name. He did not say, "Watch out for those boxes."

I went sprawling on the hard tile floor.

I guess we react to something like this the same way we react to a car accident--slow motion flashes of our lives up to that moment. I fell on my left side--my butt, my elbow and hand, and my left knee hit the ground in succession. I sat there for a few seconds; everyone and everything in the store stopped. I was soon surrounded by most of the employees, all of whom left whatever they were doing to make sure I was okay.

Well, I was in some pain, but I was more embarrassed than anything. "Are you okay?" I must have been asked that twenty times. No, I'm not "okay," but nothing is sprained or broken, except my ego! I limped to my car with the sacker guy carrying my bags. When I tried to tip him, he said, "No, ma'am. You don't owe me a thing!"

When I tried to get out of bed this morning, I swear I could hear my body creak. I was stiff and the bruise on my knee is purple. My left arm hurts, and I can't type for long before my pinkie and ring fingers go numb. Maybe I should call the store and ask the manager to file an incident report in case I need to see a doctor. But, I'm not the suing type, so I'll just take some more ibuprofen.

Okay, so that took care of the morning. I limped through the rest of the afternoon. When I finished grading, reading, etc., all the papers that my students sent me on Thursday and Friday, I sat on the sofa knitting.

Golum (you know him!) came scampering through the living room around nine or ten last evening, obviously chasing something. I was hoping it was a lizard or grasshopper, but then I saw a brown field mouse hop away from him. He brought a mouse in the house. I don't know if any of the cats have caught it yet, but I hope the mouse had the good sense to run out as fast as it could. I hate mice and rats; they are probably the only animals I don't have sympathy for. I don't mind if they stay outside, but I don't want them in my house. And I really don't need the cats bringing them inside.

I haven't seen the mouse since last night, and I don't want to. My only consolation is that I know the cats will get it if it shows itself anywhere inside. Darn cats.

CSI New Season!

Well, tonight at 8pm, I'm stopping everything to watch the premiere of the new CSI season. Of course, I, like every other CSI watcher, have to know if Sarah Sidle lives or dies. The gossip sites have been mum about this, and I haven't heard that Jorja Fox has accepted any new projects or that her contract hasn't been renewed, so I'm thinking she'll live. Actually, I don't really care whether she stays or goes, but I like the original CSI better than Miami or NY (in spite of Gary Sinese). This is really one of the few "new" shows that I keep up with; I have all last season on my iPod.

And today is my son's 27th birthday. How did he get so old? I can remember when he was a baby, and that doesn't seem so long ago. I'm curious about his new girlfriend--I haven't met her. I think I need to take a trip to Austin soon and check her out. Of course, I'm not that old! How great that my kids age and I don't!

Oops--minor interruption here--I had to grab Golem and throw him out; he brought in a bird he caught; and I've lost my glasses--I don't know where I put them down while I was chasing the cat around the house. D&%* cats! So now I need to go back over every place I chased the cat and see if I dropped the glasses on the floor before I step on them.

This has been a loooong week. And it's about to get longer. I have papers coming in from all of my classes, as well as their weekly work. How did that happen? Of course, in my defense, I gave one class an extension on their papers because they just couldn't get them together. I probably won't get these back too quickly, though I pride myself on turning work around quickly. But I'd like to get this all out of the way so I can keep up with the upcoming assignments. As I tell my students, we don't want to get behind; we want to work ahead. My problem is that my work is contingent on their work--if they don't get their assignments in on time, I can't grade them quickly. I spend too much time backtracking. Of course, the alternative is to just give them zeros and go on--not an unusual or unfair idea!

I Need to Stop...

...and smell the coffee!

I got up this morning (Saturday) around 9am (in my defense, I was up until 1am answering students' questions/responding to their issues). After a detour to the bathroom, I went into the kitchen to start the coffee. Of course, that's the cue for my cats to make their demands. For one, I turn on the faucet; for another, I open the cat food bucket; for the rest, I add "fresh" food to the food bowls--a little, or a lot, makes no difference. The top layer has to be "new." So, my need for coffee took a back seat to their needs to be catered to.

Yeah, I know. It's my fault. Really, I don't mind it. At least I don't have to send them through college and help pay their student loans! A new bag of cat food every two weeks and clean water are small prices to pay for their affection.

But that's not the only reason I'm posting here today. As soon as I started the coffee, I came into my study and turned on the computer. That's become almost a reflex for me these days. Get up, take care of the cats, make the coffee, turn on the computer. I actually had to MAKE myself sit down in the living room with a cup of coffee and watch the news, or I would have been on the computer at 9:15am.

I really do have a life--somewhere. I need to go to the store, to wash clothes, to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathroom, mow the grass, and, yet, I find myself, because of the work that I do, spending hours on the computer; I look up, the sun has gone down, my fingers, wrists and neck hurt from the constant typing, and I reach for the aspirin.

This morning, after I forced myself to stay away from the computer, I opened the front door to let the cats out and realized that the air was dry and crisp; I grabbed my cup of coffee and sat on the front porch for about an hour. It was the best thing I could do for myself.

Yes, I have a great deal to do, but I also have an obligation to my own well-being to stop once in a while. Life is more than work, or school, or talking on the telephone. Life is breathing and taking time to see. I need to do this more often.

More about the @#$% Cats in My House

As most people know, right now, I have five cats: Callie, a calico, is the oldest; Boudreaux, a large black shorthair, was, at one time, my son's cat, but he's mine now; Buddy, a sweet black and white shorthair, is my "puppy cat." He follows me around; Bubba, mostly black with white, is what I call a "tuxedo" cat; and Golem, a beautiful gray and white cat, came to me from a professor at the college where I work (I'm a rescuer--I have a hard time saying "no." But I'm getting better--five is enough).

My cats have distinct personalities and quirks. Callie likes to drink out of the faucet; Boudreaux, as large as he is, runs away from anything remotely scary; Buddy and Bubba are mostly fearless, but like to sleep cuddled up next to me at night; Golem wants to eat directly from the food bucket--no cat bowls for him.

I usually leave my back door opened just a crack for them to go in and out when I am home. I get annoyed when I have to get up a hundred times a day to let them in or out. The open back door has worked since I moved in, until the last two or three weeks. All of a sudden, they want to go out the front door. They'll come in via the back door, but they've stopped going out that way, mostly. I couldn't figure it out. Until now.

We have a little stray gray and white cat that's been hanging around since last year. I never knew the sex of the cat, but I suspected it was female. It would get really fat, then show up skinny. Pregnancy, of course. This cat eats from the cat dish on the dryer in the laundry room, which is right out the back kitchen door.

Two nights ago, I went into the laundry room to put food in the bowl. In my peripheral vision, I thought I saw something move. At first, I thought the possum had returned and was lurking behind the washer, but, when I turned on the light, I saw a tiny, tiny gray and white kitten wobbling on the floor. I almost stepped on it!

It's cute, but will probably grow up feral if I don't grab it quick and tame it. But, right now, it's too small to take away from its mother--Buddy was about three or four weeks old when my neighbor gave him to me, and he suffers from separation anxiety. I am his mother, as far as he's concerned. So I don't want to create another "clingy" cat. But if I wait too long, the kitten will end up hanging around my house, hissing at me when I pass. It's a dilemma, for sure.

Well, that explains why my cats won't go the back door. They watch for the mother cat to leave, though, and dash in through the back door when she goes. They haven't bothered the kitten, but they are curious about it. I'm keeping an eye on everybody so they don't kill the baby. If the baby gets killed, the mother will go back into heat, and we'll have cat fights all over the neighborhood, and, of course, more kittens. I'd like to tame the mother and get her fixed, but I don't think that's going to happen.

Let the Madness Begin...

Classes begin in five (count 'em-5) days! Where has the summer gone?

I guess teaching summer school for two months does eat into spare time, as do grading papers and driving 90 miles every day. But the class was good, not stressful at all; I had a wonderfully small class of students who wrote well and were funny, too. So that made the time pass quickly.

This semester, I have four classes--one Intro to Fiction (with 35 students), two Advanced Comps (one of those online--each class has 20 students), and a new class, Writing in the Humanities (this one has 13 people so far). In addition, I'll be teaching an intro knitting class for Continuing Ed for six weeks; that just provides me an excuse to knit and talk about knitting for two hours! It's built-in relaxation for me, a good reason to begin new projects, buy more yarn, and escape from academe for a while. I forsee, however, long days. The good news? I have a semester of three-day weekends again!

I mowed the grass this morning. It's so dry that I may not have to do this again for a couple of weeks, unless we get some rain (I'm not holding my breath!). I complained (sort of) about all the rain at the beginning of the summer, but everything is dry and dusty now. My garden has suffered greatly--first from an excess of moisture, then from its absence. But isn't that nature's way? Always the extreme!

Even the cats feel the heat; they spend most of their time inside (I keep having to clean the litter boxes--they've got an entire acre for a litter box, but they still come inside to do their business!). I would think they'd be out chasing the neighbor's chickens, but even that's not enough to tempt them right now. I can't blame them. I don't even like to go out to get the mail until the sun goes down.

Buddy's Home!

And seasons 1 & 2 of The Closer came today, so I'm typing this, watching The Closer, and holding Buddy. He's needy today. I have to read/grade student essays, and will get on that in a minute.

Dr. Jeff told me that Buddy had been doing fine, but, when Dr. J. went to check on him Sunday, Buddy had blood in his feces and had hacked up blood, too. So, Dr. J. started giving Buddy vitamin K shots to help his blood clot. I have antibiotics and some vitamin K to give the cat, and we'll go back to the vet's on Friday to have the stitches out. As soon as Buddy heals from this, he and Bubba are going in for sex-adjustment surgery (They need to be neutered; snip-snip). Then we start the shots for everybody.

I'm glad I've found a local vet; I'm really glad Buddy's home, and I think the other cats are glad, too. Last night, I was sitting on the couch, surrounded by cats. I think they were afraid I was going to take them away, too, so they tried to cozy up to me.

Muffin Day

I love to bake. I especially love to bake when I'm angry or upset because I can work out some of my frustrations mixing and chopping. Today, I made about four dozen muffins (most of which I will give away--if I ate all of them I'd gain way too much weight)--strawberry-banana, blueberry-orange, and the best of all, zuchinni-chocolate. As the cook, I had to sample one of each, of course! The zuchinni were the best of the bunch, though each flavor has its merits.

Why was I angry/frustrated? I've just spent an extraordinary amount of money to find out that my little cat didn't have a blockage in his stomach, as the emergency vet insisted. In fact, Dr. Jeff said that Buddy didn't have anything in his stomach. No bird's head, no feathers. Something irritated his stomach, but, whatever it was, it wasn't there when Buddy got to Dr. Anderson's. The matter in Buddy's intestines resembled a black peppermint stick, according to Dr. Jeff; basically, he gave Buddy an enema--the doc flushed out his stomach and his intestines. A very expensive high colonic, if you ask me! Anyway, Buddy's recuperating at the clinic over the weekend. Dr. Jeff wants to make sure that Buddy's over his vomiting episode.

So, here's the lesson I've learned. Cats are cats. They will eat stuff they shouldn't and, while bloody vomit is scary, caution is best. Next time, I'll just lock the cat in the bathroom for 24 hours and let his digestive system calm down. If he's still sick after that, he goes to Dr. Jeff. No more emergency vets. That's the same as using the emergency room for a cold. Dumb!

So, I think I'll bake some bread later. I need to punch something, and dough is, at least, safe.

Cat Tails/Tales?

Well, I should find out tomorrow, but I'm thinking the sparrow's head is in Buddy's stomach. He threw up blood Thursday afternoon, so I took him to the emergency vet in Shreveport (my second round trip of the day!), where I paid almost $500 to have the vet tell me that Buddy had a blockage. Duh! So, at 1am, I was driving the highway homeward. I went to bed around 2am Friday, got up around 7:30am, and took Buddy to the local vet. I taught my class, went to lunch with a former student, then drove back to the vet's office.

I like Dr. Anderson. He's a large and small animal vet, which means he deals with horses, sheep, cows, as well as dogs and cats. I love sitting in a vet's office--I've met some wonderful animals and their owners in the last two days. At Dr. Jeff's (that's Dr. A's first name--that's what everyone calls him), I met a Rat Terrier named "Shorty" who was in for a toenail clipping (which Dr. Jeff did himself), a cat named "Lucy," (an orange-striped tabby), a lab named Jojo, who loves to have her head scratched, and a Jack Russell puppy named "Gigi," and her human, who's name is "Daisy." Last night/early this morning, I met a Cocker Spaniel named "Petunia," a Rat Terrier named "Abby," a miniature Shnauzer named "Abbie," a lab named "Hunter," and a lab named "May." No other cats, though.

Dr. Jeff took the time to talk to me about Buddy--is he prone to eating hair scrunchies, rubber bands; does he throw up often? Answer to both questions: No. Buddy likes to play with scrunchies, rubber bands, and yarn (yeah, he's such a typical cat), but he knows the difference between toys and food. He and Bubba will tear the hell out of a catnip mouse, but they won't eat it. I told Dr. Jeff about the sparrow and the missing head. He said he checked the x-rays from the emergency clinic and said he planned to do an exploratory surgery on Buddy and keep him overnight. I expected the doc to call, but he might have had a large-animal emergency. (And I found out that, at night, he only deals with large animals. So he doesn't come in for small animal emergencies.)

I trust him--even though he seems to be rather youngish (but how do I know?). Dr. Jeff is personable, asks interesting questions, and seems to know the animals he cares for quite well. He wants to know and he treated my concerns seriously, even the money question. How much? About $150, unless he has to resect a bowel! Next time, I'll just wait for Dr. Jeff's office to open to take in a sick animal. But now I have a local vet to vaccinate my cats and treat them when they swallow birds' heads whole!

But the question that's plaguing me now is "How much is an animal worth?" If I had to choose between paying $1,000 to save my cat or $1,000 to save my child, of course, the answer is obvious. But my children are grown; my cats are my companions. They share my life and complete my home; I couldn't imagine living without them. I think that, because I lost Judas to the dogs, I'm particularly vulnerable right now. I've raised Buddy--he wasn't more than six week's old when my neighbor handed him to me. He's my puppy-cat and follows me around. I would hate to lose him, especially when I can do something to prevent it.

I can't wait to get him home. But I think I won't let him go outside for a while!

Another "Gift"

When I sat down to read my students' second drafts today, I noticed feathers. I looked closer and found the body of a sparrow, sans head, on my desk. The last time one of my cats left me such a gift, I received the head and tail feathers of a Cardinal. So I guess I should be happy I didn't find the body of a red bird on my desk. But, really, these "gifts" are annoying. I'm still finding feathers in the nooks and crannies; I'm really afraid I'm going to find the head, too. (reminds me of the famous scene in "The Godfather"--the horse's head in the bed! Yikes!)

I love my cats, but this is too much. And, to top this off, Buddy, one of my younger cats, keeps throwing up--food, water, grass. I'd blame it on hairballs, but he doesn't seem to shed much. I'm thinking he ate something he shouldn't have. I'd blame his gastrointestinal problems on the food, but none of the other cats are throwing up, so he might have gotten into something he shouldn't. I need to find some homeopath remedy for this. First, though, I need to keep him away from food for a day or so. I think I'll lock him in the study (that's one way to keep the others from leaving me dead birds!).

I welcomed the thunderstorm tonight. I thought I'd have to go out and water the garden in the morning so it would get its one-inch for the week, but I think it will be fine for a couple of days. I picked quite a few tomatoes tonight and a squash. I'm still not sure when the peppers will be ready, but I may just have to pick one and try it out. I had a salad for dinner and threw in a couple of the cherry tomatoes. Yum!

Cat Sagas, Part Deux

My elation at discovering that Boudreaux was okay was short-lived. I woke up this morning to the sound of dogs barking again, and, by the time I made it out the back door, I discovered the largest of the hounds standing over the body of my cat, Judas. She, unfortunately, was dead.

So, at 7:30 am, I was once again digging a hole. The ground was fairly soft, but I need to put some more dirt on top of the grave to keep the varmints from digging her up. To say that I am sad is an understatement. This cat has been with me for about ten years. My daughter brought Judas to me from Austin. Dorothy had moved into a new apartment and couldn't keep her.

Judas was a one-person cat. She hated every other cat in the house and rarely let any of them get within three feet of her. When the weather turned warm, she would go outside and not come back inside until the temperature cooled significantly. I think that's what caused the problem--I couldn't get her to come inside to eat. I had to put food out for her, which, I think, encouraged the dogs to visit the property.

Judas was part of a litter of kittens that a wandering stray cat had when my daughter was living in an apartment with four guys. They named the mother cat "Mary" and named the kittens after the Disciples--Judas got her name because she was the only black cat in the bunch. Dorothy and the guys didn't care about the cat's sex; they named them randomly. So that's how I ended up with a cat named "Judas." Not a name I would have chosen.

When I got home from teaching today, I called the police department. I let them know about the dogs, that one of them, at least, had killed my cat. We do have leash laws here, I found out, but we don't really have any way to enforce them. We don't have a dog catcher or pound, so abandoned or wandering animals can't be taken anywhere, even if the police do catch them. I asked the officer what the solution was, and he told me that the officer can "dispose" of the animal if he/she considers the animal vicious. If the animal attacks the officer, the officer can shoot it. I think that's what he meant by "dispose." I'm not in favor of killing animals--any animals--unless they pose an immediate danger. These dogs are vicious to cats. Does that count? Anyway, the morning shift is supposed to keep an eye on my property. I am going to try to keep the cats in tonight. They've been in most of the day, anyway, because of the rain. I think I'll go count, now. If they are all here, I'm locking the door.

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Oh, and, as an aside, I'm now the proud owner of a bouncing baby riding lawnmower! Alas, I can't use it because the ground is saturated. I probably won't be able to cut the grass until Tuesday. I hope I can figure out how it works by then!

Cat Update...

I worry too much and I forget that cats are crafty. I started filling food bowls this morning and Boudreaux was first in line for chow! I gave him a quick twice over and he seemed to be fine. He ate and perched himself in his favorite spot on the sofa for a good cleaning and a nap. No doubt I will find him in the same place when I get home later.

When I went outside to look for him last night, I noticed the bugs around the security lights in my neighbor's yard. I searched for bats--they are drawn to the bugs. I'm pretty sure we have bats in the country, but I don't know that I've actually seen any. But, while I was looking for the bats, an owl swooped through the yard and perched in one of the neighbor's trees. Good! Another helper to rid the area of rats. (I really, really, really HATE rats!)

Anyway, Boo is fine--and that means I'm fine, too.

The Cat Sagas

I mentioned this morning in class that I saw three big dogs this morning that had something cornered under my neighbor's car. I thought it might be one of my cats, Boudreaux (Boo). I haven't seen him all day, and I didn't see anything under the car when I got home. If he's hurt, he may be under the house, or (and I really hope not), those dogs may have come back for him. I threw a stick at them and chased them away, but my neighbor is not the friendliest person. If my cat died under her car, she probably threw him in the trash or on the burn pile in her back yard. I know that sounds terrible (it does to me); I would prefer that she yell at me to come get my cat. I'm holding out hope that Boo is just hiding and will come out when he feels safe. I have been looking for him and calling him, but he hasn't shown up yet.

The newest member of the group, Golem, caught a rat in the backyard this afternoon. Well, think about it--bird feeders, tall grass, and chickens/chicken eggs across the ditch--a rat's paradise! And, of course, the rat snakes indicate that rats live around here. Golem dispatched the rat in short order, leaving only the head (in the grass; I closed the back door to keep him from bringing it in to the house). The other cats displayed typical cat curiousity and tried to get a look at his snack, but he wasn't sharing. I need to thank the professor who gave Golem to me; he's a good ratter.

I'm going to call for Boudreaux again. I'm hoping he's just chilling somewhere--he does that every once in a while, even though he's neutered; my cats stay close to home, but they'll go on short forays, mostly to chase chickens. I'm hoping that's what Boo is doing.