Boolie

Emma’s Third & Final Home

We adopted Sam and Emma shortly before Christmas in 2007, two weeks after our cat Templeton died. We were her third home, her previous family had adopted her as a kitten but a year later felt they had too many cats and had been unable to find a home for her. I took this picture of Emma two days later on Christmas Eve after she joined Sam in quarantine in our guest bedroom. Initially we kept them in separate rooms until their health tests came back, but Emma was pretty miserable in isolation and it was a relief when she could join her new little brother and they could keep each other company while still being kept separate from our cat Scout.

With Templeton and Scout, my heart was open to loving a new cat before it was finished breaking for the departed one, and so it is with Emma. We went to the Oregon Humane Society this morning to look at some of the younger cats, as Boo could use a playmate. The young kittens got adopted right before we got there but we had a chance to meet a sweet young cat that we are considering, though we have some concerns she might be a bit too shy. An outgoing young cat came up for adoption after we were there that we will meet in the morning, but perhaps she will be too much for Boo (and especially Sam).

It’s so hard to know. After all Boo was a terrified little thing who shook like a leaf when we met him, yet you’d never know it now by watching the confident little fellow who is taking over the household, despite being the youngest by far.

There’s no rush. Whoever we adopt will come to a good home, we just hope it’s the right one.

A Game of Strings

One of my favorite pictures of Emma, taken last summer. We discovered early on that she loved playing with strings, when she was young if you sat on the ground and dragged an old shoelace around you, she’d circle you until she was exhausted. Later she’d learn to predict your actions and try and jump over you to cut the string off at the pass. Throughout her life you’d find her sitting by one of her shoelaces, not wanting to miss out on the chance at a game of string.

String got more complicated when we adopted Boo as he also loved to chase them but with the exuberance of a young cat, something Emma didn’t always appreciate. I’d sometimes play with both of them, a shoelace in one hand for Emma and a shoelace in the other for Boo. If two-handed string was an Olympic event the gold would have been ours. Eventually though Boo would want to play with whatever string his big sister was playing with, so it was fortunate they learned to play together.

In the picture Emma is sitting at the entrance to my office, at the end of her life this is where she chose to hang out most of the time (not in the doorway, though, just a bit over to the left). She didn’t have the energy to play string towards the end, a clear sign of how sick she was getting. Sometimes she’d chew on it if you laid it across her paws, especially a ribbon from one of the Christmas presents.

When I look at the picture I’m struck by how lovely she was and the beautiful life we lost. But I’m reminded too, of the beautiful life we shared.

A Mouthful of Bullfrog

Normally I’m pretty good at spotting bitterns at Ridgefield but I saw them on only three out of ten visits to the refuge over the Christmas break. I worried I was losing my touch until I found this bittern on Christmas Eve slowly working the channel beside Rest Lake. I suspect the real reason I haven’t seen as many this year is that the grasses in this area, normally my best spot for seeing them, have been cut lower in places, eliminating cover for both the bitterns and the animals they are hoping to catch.

The bittern snagged a large bullfrog from the water as you can see in the top picture. In the picture below the bittern has swallowed most of the frog with only the rear feet sticking out of its mouth. The bittern has protected its eyes from the frog’s claws with a nictitating membrane, a common tactic in the chaos of swallowing something that doesn’t want to be swallowed.

Do or Do Not, There is No Try

Luminous beings are we.

New Year’s Day

I started 2015 the way I ended 2014, visiting my favorite little wildlife refuge. We had a cold snap that froze some of the smaller ponds and this male bufflehead was one of two that were hanging out with a flock of American coots working a small section of open water near the road. Like other diving ducks, bufflehead flatten out their tails on the surface of the water and push themselves forward into the dive, using their beaks to break the surface tension of the water.

Lovely way to start the year.

Back to Work

I woke last Thursday to our cat Sam walking on my chest. I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly 6 a.m. and knew my wife would be feeding the pets momentarily. I must have immediately fallen back asleep because I woke minutes later to our dog Ellie climbing in beside me, having just finished her breakfast, which doesn’t take long. She waits for me to get up because every morning after I make my breakfast I give her a dental bone, which has become her favorite treat.

Everything seemed normal in those first few moments until I remembered Emma died the night before.

I expected a wave of grief to follow but instead I just felt numb. Unable to go back to sleep, I went down to the basement to scoop the litter boxes and realized I was only scooping for two cats now, but I still felt numb and although I had planned to take the day off from work, began to wonder if I was going to be OK to go in after all.

But then I went up to the main floor to make my breakfast and saw a pen on the counter and started crying. Emma’s medications got complicated enough that my wife made a calendar of what she was taking each morning and night, and we’d use the pen to cross off the medicines as we gave them to her, and towards the end also wrote down her weight and how much baby food she ate each day.

As I walked to the cupboard to get my breakfast and Ellie’s bone a wave of grief hit me. My wife gave Emma her pills at her first morning feeding, which stressed her out enough that she wasn’t always able to eat as much, but she was ready to try again by the time I got up. She’d mill about my feet as I made my breakfast and then I’d sit with her in the kitchen to encourage her to eat as much as she could. So much of our lives towards the end revolved around trying to get her to eat, and now her absence broke my heart.

I grabbed my laptop and sent an email to work to let them know I was taking the next couple of days off. I still hoped I might be able to go in on Friday but I knew as soon as I woke that morning that I wasn’t ready. Each day brought healing and by Saturday afternoon I was ready to take down Emma’s beloved Christmas tree. Sunday I went up to my favorite refuge for part of the day, unsure of how long I’d stay, but I had some nice moments and it brought comfort as it often has before.

I’ve been back to work all week and while it hasn’t been my most productive week, I’ve done OK. If I get too distracted by thoughts of Emma I take a walk around the track across from my office, and had to take an especially long walk today, but it’s getting better.

Looking back through my pictures of her has brought as many smiles as tears this past week and has helped push me down the healing path. I took this picture of her last summer, a day after we adopted Boo and the day my mirrorless camera arrived, and was just playing around with the new camera. She’s asleep on the top shelf of the cat tree, I was laying on the ground shooting up towards the ceiling.

It still hurts that she’s gone and will for a while yet, but I’m so thankful for each day we spent with her.

Sam Cares Not for the Games of Men …

… though he did once attack my TV when I was watching a show about wolves.

Are You Ready to Rock?

I said, “ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?”

Sam & Boo Demonstrate the Proper Use of a Cat Bed

In two years Sam has gone from being the youngest of three cats to the oldest of two. He was happiest when he had Scout looking out for him and it took him over a year to adjust to her death. I don’t expect Emma’s death to hit him as hard but they were friends and grew up together and it is having an impact. We’ve found him snuggling with Boo in the cat bed several times, which he hasn’t done before.

Dog in a Cat Bed

Ellie sometimes sleeps in one of our cat beds, which is large enough for two cats but not nearly large enough for a black lab. I don’t mind that she takes their bed, as they are frequently sleeping in her beds, but worry she thinks we’re incompetent dog bed buyers, only she’s too polite to say anything.