Pets – Page 121

Escape Artist #2

Scout was an escape artist from the day we brought her home. We tried to keep her isolated from Templeton, but still let her see us, by putting her into the downstairs bathroom and putting a baby gate in the doorway.

No good.

She just climbed the gate like it was nothing. Then we tried stacking a large box in front of the door.

No good.

She just climbed the box. We added another box. She climbed that one too. Eventually we realized she’d just keep climbing and risk hurting herself if she fell, so we kept the door closed. Fortunately Templeton accepted her quickly so she didn’t stay in there long.

Before long she figured out how to open doors anyway. The ones in the old house had handles that she figured out she could jump up and pull down on to get the door to open. Her true master stroke though was her discovery that she could stick her paw under the door and vibrate it enough to jimmy the door open. This became her favored technique and made us all but give up on trying to keep her isolated.

We put her and Templeton in the upstairs bathroom one day when a contractor was working here (we had told him we would), but she jimmied the door open shortly after we left for work and earned both she and Templeton their freedom to wander the house.

I’m not sure armed guards could keep her locked up.

It seems we have acquired our second escape artist. When you adopt a cat at the Oregon Humane Society, they give you these temporary cardboard cat carriers to bring the cats home. We have a plastic one we used for Templeton and Scout, but we wanted each cat in their own carrier, so we used the temporary carriers which had been festively decorated for the holidays.

I didn’t realize just how temporary one of them would be.

We placed each carrier in the back seat and began the short ride home. They were both quiet at first but then I heard some quiet mews coming from behind me. I couldn’t figure out which one was speaking up, but eventually Emma’s carrier started to rock and it was clear who was unhappy.

When we got home, we left the cats in the carriers in the living room while we got their rooms set up with food, water, and litter boxes. My wife came upstairs to find Emma half way out of her box, she chewed and scratched a large hole in the carrier but was having trouble getting her hindquarters out.

Scout would have tried to figure out how to get the top to open up, but Emma apparently prefers a more direct approach. A little less Houdini-like, perhaps, but an escape artist nonetheless.

Christmas Presents

It was two weeks ago today that we said goodbye to Templeton. But today isn’t about goodbye so much as it is about hello — make that two hellos — as we went to the Oregon Humane Society today and adopted two lovely little cats. It’s a good thing we left when we did or we might have adopted a handful more, there were so many wonderful cats to choose from.

We haven’t chosen new names for them yet — the only thing we know for sure is that they won’t be Candy Cane and Purrana, their current names. They are each in quarantine, one in the guest bedroom and one in the spare bathroom, until they pass their vet exams on Monday (thankfully both have tested negative for FIV).

The little fellow in the picture above (originally named Candy Cane) was dropped off at the Humane Society on December 15th so he had been there exactly one week, the reason listed for giving him up was simply “last of litter”. He is four months old and had fleas and ear mites but has been treated for both, he’s also been battling diarrhea for a few days but the cause isn’t known yet. We’ve got him in isolation in the guest bedroom, he’s been curled up either on the bed or on a blanket on the floor.

It took all of about two seconds for me to fall in love with him when they first brought him into the “Get Acquainted” rooms. He climbed into my lap and didn’t leave until I handed him to my wife, he just purred and purred and that was that. I think the only reason he lasted a week without someone adopting him is that he was in a cage due to his illness and not in the normal communal kitten room (a place so full of cuteness that if you stare too long your head will explode).

The cat named Purrana (we’re leaning towards calling her Emma, sticking with the tradition of naming the cats after characters from literature) was dropped off on the 5th of December, so she had been there a while longer. Her previous owners felt they had too many animals, so this one and half year old is now the newest member of our household.

We selected her because she had been around cats before, had a good personality, and has a beautiful black coat — I’ve never had a black cat before but think they’re lovely, as does my wife, so I’m thankful we found her. She was sprawled out and sleeping in a great pose when we first saw her, which reminded me of Templeton’s various poses.

She was more nervous when they brought her in to visit with us, but she loves to rub her head up against yours and it didn’t take us long to realize we had found our second cat to adopt. She’s isolated in the bathroom on the main floor, which isn’t as photogenic as the bedroom, but I only got a couple of pictures of her anyway. She refused to leave my lap so I had to push her gently away with my leg just to take this picture, and then I let her climb back into my lap and start rubbing her head all over me.

Scout isn’t sure what to make of the visitors yet, she’s avoided going by their rooms but soon enough I’m sure they’ll get acquainted by sniffing under the doors. The two new ones seem to have such gentle and loving personalities that I’m hopeful they will soon all become best friends, but for now it’s best to take the introductions one step at a time.

Now we just have to choose their names …

A Little Good News

Scout passed her yearly exam at the vet with flying colors. My wife reports that she was even snuggling up to the staff and giving them her little headbutts — probably trying to make up for the last time when she jumped up to the little gap above the cabinets and settled in for a nap, forcing them to get a stepstool to get her down.

And no matter how it may seem, this blog hasn’t gone all cats, all the time — it has helped me a great deal to talk about Templeton here, but I’ll start mixing the cat stories in with some of my wildlife pictures, as I have a bit of a backlog building up.

Dreams

I had the nicest dream last night, which is certainly not the norm.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Templeton and Scout and I were all playing in the backyard, just like we did every summer afternoon. It was one of those dreams that just goes on and on, nothing but the three of us playing. When it was time to go in, I went to the door and called the cats. They came running to me, and as Templeton ran up to me he vanished before my eyes.

Gone but not forgotten.

Today’s picture comes from this summer, I had taken them outside after work like always. It was getting late in the evening but still plenty of light so not time to go inside. Scout was sitting in front of one of the rose bushes when a scrub jay landed on the roof, causing her to look up.

One Week

It was a week ago that we first realized something was wrong with Templeton and rushed him to the vet. We picked up his ashes this morning. On the way out the door, I was reminded of the Monty Python skit in which the undertaker tells a young man that they can cremate his dead mother and “then you get a box of ashes, which you can pretend are hers.”

The little tin we picked up (which was surprisingly heavy) has a sticker on the bottom that says the ashes are from a certified private cremation for Templeton, but I have my doubts. As we drove home, no ethereal howls emanated from the tin.

None.

Templeton hated riding in the car. Sometimes before we were married, I’d bring Templeton up to my apartment to visit for a week. When we left my wife’s apartment, he’d already be meowing at full strength. He’d keep it up during the half hour drive, somehow getting louder on the way, so that by the time we pulled into my parking lot the car windows were rattling and passers by were giving me dirty looks.

So you’ll forgive me for thinking that even death couldn’t silence Templeton during a car ride.

On the plus side, Scout has been doing as well as I could hope. She’s clearly bothered by his absence and staying closer to us than normal, but towards the end of the week she’s increasingly been sleeping in her old places. She’s eating and playing and sleeping with us at night. Today’s picture was taken Thursday night while she was curled up in the cat bed beside my desk.

We’ve been talking about the right time to add another cat or two to the household. I’m ready but it’s hard to say about Scout — I think she’ll be happiest with other cats, based on how much she loved having Templeton around, but I don’t want her to think we’re trying to replace him. She has her yearly exam on Monday so we’ll see what the vet thinks.

The upcoming holidays would be a good time since we’d be home as they got used to each other, but we’ll see.

A Gentle Soul

If you were one of the vets who looked after Templeton during his life, “gentle” is not the first word that would come to mind when describing him. Or the second word. Or the third. Or the tenth. Or the … well, you get the idea. He hated going to the vet. It was nothing personal, we had some great ones here in Portland and in Salem, but his personality changed completely and he got very stressed and hostile.

Legends were written. Tales were told.

“My name is Templeton, cat of cats:
Look on my paws, ye mighty, and despair!”

Even at home, he wasn’t too crazy about strangers, particularly young ones. He could run away to a safe spot at home, though, and he certainly mellowed out later in life and would even come up and greet some of our visitors. But with my wife and I, Templeton was gentle and loving, he loved to curl up on our laps and purr like mad. Even so, we weren’t quite sure what he’d make of Scout when we first brought her home in May of 2001, as he had been the only cat for much of his life.

We needn’t have worried.

He didn’t like to cuddle up with Scout, but he did play with her at times, he groomed her, and he just flat out put up with her when she had lots of kitten energy but not lots of kitten sense.

This isn’t the greatest picture, it was taken with a little compact camera, but it illustrates how good he was with her. She had been with us less than two months at this point, and would sometimes spring onto his back like she was a rodeo rider, and then start biting on his head. At this stage, he’d let her get away with it and let her work out her energy. Eventually he started giving her a gentle little wap to the head when she played too rough, training her on how to get along with others, and she came around and stopped the head biting and learned to play nice.

He never lost his love for play, even right up to the end. He lost some muscle mass in his last year or so and certainly couldn’t jump as high as he used to, but he and Scout would still chase each other around the back yard during their supervised outdoor time, and even at fifteen years old he was so fast that he could easily keep up with Scout.

We should all age so well. We should all live so well.

The Great White Belly

Templeton loved his belly rubs. And with that great soft white belly of his, I couldn’t resist giving them.

Sometimes I’d surprise him, he’d be sleeping and roll over to let off some heat, and I’d gently start to rub his belly. Sometimes he’d make kneading motions into the air with his paws, sometimes he’d wrap his arms around mine, always accompanied by that wonderful purr.

Sometimes, though, he’d use his belly to his advantage. The first time Templeton came to live with me was when I was still in school in Virginia but my wife had already moved out to Oregon. Templeton stayed with me for a few months and kept me company while I finished up my dissertation. I’d be working at my desk and out of the corner of my eye, I’d see him walking in my direction. He’d suddenly stop and flop down on his back, exposing his white belly to the world. He’d watch me and wait for his belly rub. If I didn’t get up, he’d hop up, move a few feet closer, and then flop down again and wait for his belly rub.

I never tested how many times he was willing to get up and move closer, even if I managed to resist the first siren’s call he’d usually draw me in by the second or third time.

Today’s picture comes from just before Christmas 2005, just before that awful night when Templeton swallowed a sewing needle. The wooden grate he’s sleeping on has a warm air vent just below it, so it became a favorite location of the cats our first winter here in Portland. Scout discovered the wonders of the grate first, but Templeton quickly learned from her experience.

Akimbo

Yesterday evening I wasn’t sure if I was going to be up to going to work today, but looking at pictures and writing here was cathartic enough that I felt up to it this morning. I managed pretty well for the most part, though at one point I needed a breather and went outside to walk a number of laps around the track. The Canada geese didn’t seem to mind that my eyes were watering.

When I came back in, I sent this picture of Templeton from my laptop to my work account and set it as my background on my second monitor. I normally keep both monitors covered with the applications I’m working with, but I intentionally kept the second monitor clear so I could see Templeton. It’s a large monitor so he was watching over me all afternoon, larger than life.

His gorgeous green eyes seemed to do the trick and I was fine the rest of the day — right up until I walked into the house and there wasn’t a little gray head popping around the door to welcome me home. Scout came running in to meet my like she usually does, so I played with her for a while until I finally got hungry enough to eat something. She slept in her warm bed for a bit before disappearing to sleep in the heating ducts, but has now returned to the warm bed beside me. She’s doing pretty well all things considered.

While looking through some old pictures I found a little movie clip of Scout as a kitten riding on Templeton’s back and biting down on his head. It was taken with a little digital camera that had very low resolution and poor quality, but it made me laugh and certainly shows how tolerant he was with her. Other pictures from the same time show him giving her a bath and cleaning out her ears. Her ears have always been clean thanks to him, so I guess it will be up to us to take over.

I’ll post the picture of her biting on Templeton’s head at some point (it’s a shame I took it with our little camera instead of the SLR, but I didn’t have much warning and thankfully she grew out of her head biting phase). Today’s picture is a little more serene and another one from 2001, Templeton zonked out in my window seat, legs all akimbo. I chose this one today because it reflected a change in his attitude towards me.

I first met Templeton back when I met my wife, and at first he was a little jealous of the attention I was getting, so he’d nip my ankles and then run off. That only lasted for a day or two, he quickly realized that I loved to play with him and so we became partners in crime.

After my wife and I got married a few years later and moved in together, I got to see Templeton every day. At first he still thought of me as the one to play with and my wife the one to go up and snuggle with when he was ready to sleep. But as the months progressed, he came to see me as someone to curl up next to as well. I eventually put a pillow on my desk so he could curl up beside me, but sometimes the quilts on the window seat were just as inviting.

Templeton didn’t open up so completely to just anyone, so I was thankful for times like these when he chose to be near me. To fully appreciate the picture, you’ll have to purr happily to yourself. He had a lovely loud purr and wasn’t shy about using it when he was with those he loved.

Missing One

I’ve been re-editing some pictures of Templeton, it was hard at first but it has helped me feel better in the past hour or so, and writing these posts has helped as well.

It will be interesting to see how Scout will deal with the loss of Templeton — she has worshipped him since the day we brought her home. She’s gotten more independent as she’s gotten older, but she still loves to play with him. Shortly before we took Templeton to the vet, she walked over beside him, plonked down on her back, and grabbed his head with her front paws, her classic invitation to play.

The poor guy was so spent that he could barely move, so I pulled Scout away. It turned out to be their last moment together.

She’s done OK today, she obviously knows that he’s not around and has been hanging out with me most of the day. I don’t think the full gravity of the situation has hit her yet, after all he did disappear for a week a couple of years ago when he needed surgery after swallowing a needle and our friend Heather graciously looked after him while we were out of town visiting family for the holidays.

Scout is zonked out beside me now in her heated bed, last winter this was one of Templeton’s favorite hangouts but he didn’t want to sleep there this year. Scout was happy enough to take over, which is nice as it sits next to my desk. She was snoring a little while ago but has quieted down now.

We’re about to head up to bed where she’ll curl up on top of me for the night. A positive end to a difficult day.

This picture is from January 2002, Scout (on the right) was 8 months old and curled up with Templeton whenever she got the chance. They’re sleeping in the window seat in my office at our old house in Keizer, a favorite place of mine to curl up with them.

Remembrance

Today’s been an emotional roller coaster. When I awoke from the comfort of sleep this morning, I thought I was going to be OK. And I was for a while, but as the day wore on Templeton’s absence was too hard to ignore — Christmas was one of his favorite times.

I put up the Christmas tree yesterday, and that was the first time I realized something was wrong with Templeton. He loved the tree and the big box it came in, and when he didn’t come upstairs while I assembled it, I went down to get him. He wasn’t interested in the tree and was all hunched over when he walked — we left for the vet a little while later. In the space of a few hours I went from thinking he was fine to holding him as he died.

Today we decorated the tree and put up the rest of the Christmas decorations. There was the nativity set he loved to stick his head in, the ornaments he liked to play with, the tree he liked to sleep under and the tree skirt he loved to sleep on (and hack up hairballs on), the decoration that he’d chew on if we didn’t watch him, the wrapping paper he loved to play on.

Normally when I’m upset I like to snuggle up with Templeton — he loved to snuggle and would emit this wonderful purr that helped me relax. He was just so happy when he was with the ones he loved. I wish I could do that now.

I’m working on a novel in which the pets of my life are the major characters — Templeton of course is one of the main characters in the first story. One of the joys of writing is that these characters have lived in my head for the past couple of years, a mixture of the pets in real life and the characters from the story, and thinking about them has helped me when I’m down. One of the central themes of the story is dealing with loss, so they have come in useful over the past year.

Those voices have been silenced temporarily, as the present loss overwhelms my thoughts, but in the long term I know they will return. One of the characters is based on a dog named Ginger that we had when I was in college but who died very young, it’s been a joy to have her character from the book bring that lovely little dog back into remembrance on a daily basis.

I know someday soon the same will be true for Templeton, but for now it is time to grieve.

Yesterday’s picture was from January 2001 when we lived in Keizer, Templeton was playing with one of his catnip bags and took a momentary break. I had just gotten my first digital camera the week before at Christmas, so it’s one of my earliest digital pictures.

Today’s picture is from December 2004 and taken at our house here in Portland, he’s watching the Christ child in the nativity set.