Our cats Buster and Missy used to try to crowd each other off my lap while watching television (As Time Goes By was their favorite). Sorry, but my lap just wasn’t big enough for both of them. I’m happy to say they never got to fighting over it. But I was always afraid they would–and guess who would’ve gotten scratched.
We once bought some wind-up toy cars for our young cats (not quite kittens anymore) to play with–chase ’em, flip ’em upside down, hide behind the coffee table and ambush ’em. I am sorry to say Robbie and Peep were afraid of these toys and gave them a wide berth. Nor did they care for a little battery-powered tank that made funny noises.
Live and learn.
The other day, at one of the multitude of doctors’ offices we are now obliged to visit, we saw a lady with a back pack; and in the back pack was a tiny white dog.
Was this a therapy dog (like Norbert)? I could certainly use a therapy cat, about now. You don’t know how much you need your pets until you’re forced to do without them. (Buster and Missy squabbling over a seat on my lap… It’s the kind of thing that makes you feel wanted.)
Well, the rest of the day, sunny and cool–maybe I can generate a few pages of my book. Mustn’t waste a day away from the doctor.
In honor of Mother’s Day–I wish my mother could see this–we show a mother cat instructing her two kittens. We don’t know what she’s saying, but I guess they do.
Many years ago, on a dark and stormy night, we admitted a stray cat into our home. She immediately had two kittens. Instant family for us!
Our cat Robbie (here she is, as an international model) is now 18 years old!
That’s a pretty hefty age for a cat; but just as important… it’s voting age!
Where in the Constitution, or in the statutes of New Jersey, does it say that only human beings can vote? Where does it actually say that only human beings can be citizens? I don’t think anyone took the trouble to draw up such laws.
I’m sure Robbie would get freaked out if we brought her with us to the polls at Campbell School–all those people, strangers all, and that huge open space of a gym. No, she wouldn’t like that at all.
But not to worry–mail-in ballots to the rescue! (Gee, it’s too bad I don’t have mice and crickets anymore… although getting any of them to the age of 18 would be problematic, to say the least.) All we have to do is fill out Robbie’s ballot and drop it in the drop box.
And if you don’t think Democrats are already doping out ways that they can cheat–well, you’re not thinking, are you?
Robbie in her younger days
We had a scare here this morning: our cat, Robbie (18 years old) had a sudden seizure or spasm, I don’t know which, in the living room. No, this wasn’t nice! But it has happened once before, and lasted only a few minutes once I could comfort her; and that’s what happened this time.
Some weeks ago she had blood tests, X-rays, the whole kaboodle–and no bad news out of any of them. So we don’t know what’s what.
Meanwhile, there’s my leg and hip and Patty’s COPD: our little household needs prayer and plenty of it.
Everything’s quieted down now. Back to work.
Two and a half hours at the vet’s this morning, first thing. That’s where I’ve been.
The bad news is, Robbie has a number of serious health problems all laying siege to her at once. Her whole life has been one damned thing after another. The good news is, she’s fought them off, year after year, and is still here.
Rather than put her through all kinds of major treatments, when she doesn’t seem to be particularly uncomfortable, we’re just going to rely on prayer and care. At her age (almost 17) she doesn’t need invasive tests and surgeries. Let her nap under the Christmas tree, when we put it up.
I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble, these past three days; only when someone in your family suddenly keels over, you’re supposed to do something about it.
Anyway, she’s back where she belongs.
We’re stewing today because we’ve got to take Robbie to another corner of the state tomorrow to get radioactive iodine treatment for her hyperthyroid condition.
We’re not worried about the treatment itself, because so many people say it really works. It’s more the early-morning drive on the Garden State Parkway, with the cat screaming bloody murder all the way there, crazy Jersey drivers all around us, and a not at all user-friendly veterinary practice where they won’t let you take your cat into the building, they’ll come out and get her, etc. They’re still in full-throttle COVID mode.
We’ll have to leave her there for several days because she’ll be “hot” from the treatment. Again, people say it really works. But we’re not used to there being no little girl-cat in our home and I expect we’ll fret in spite of reassurances that all will be well. It’s like checking your child into the hospital. Not very soothing.
I just can’t do any more nooze today. Please pray for us.
I couldn’t wait till dinner-time to post this–Patty’s video of our own two furry babies, back in happier times. Robbie’s the one with the white bib. She’s given up toting Patty’s slippers around the living room. And Peep is up in heaven now.
Oh, our little girls! Have to stop now, eyes filling up…
We got good news today from Robbie’s vet. They’ve done the blood work: her kidney numbers are back down to normal, and so are her thyroid numbers. She won’t need to be checked again for six months. It’s a great relief to us.
Robbie recently had her sixteenth birthday, and that makes her a “senior cat.” You might well think she was younger than that, to look at her. She’s had more than her share of serious medical problems in her life, but she’s still ticking.
Meanwhile, the weather here has not been friendly to any writer who needs to work outdoors. I want to start writing my next book, the early life of King Ozias, who lived two thousand years ago. I think I’d like to frame it as a tale told by Obst, King Ryons’ teacher. The tale is told in Obann’s Scriptures, in bits and pieces scattered here and there. Obst will have to put it all together into a coherent narrative.
To start a new book is exciting, but also a little bit daunting. Can I do it? Can I make it work? Will it serve God? The only way to find out is to pray for guidance and write the book.