Tag: black cat

At the Top of the Stairs, There Was Em

Our black cat Emma sits at the top of the stairs between the kitchen and the basement, watching our new kitten Boo (not in the picture) as he climbs the stairs towards her

Emma was not happy about the arrival of little Boo in the summer of 2013. On his first foray into the house at large he had to climb the stairs first past Ellie, then Sam, and finally Emma at the top. I spent most of Boo’s first month with Emma, letting her know this was still, and always would be, her home. She was a sweetheart and in time not only came to accept the little fellow but let him snuggle up with her. It’s still hard for me at times to edit pictures of her, knowing that in a year and a half we’d be going through another introduction, this time getting Boo to accept young Trixie after Emma died far too young.

Both Sam and Emma followed Boo around as he explored but Sam watched Emma as much as he watched Boo, here looking up at Emma atop the stairs as she growls at the intrusion of the young kitten. Sam loved his life with his two older sisters and never wanted it to change, but when they both died young he accepted his new siblings pretty quickly.

Our cat Sam in the landing between the kitchen and the basement looks up towards the top of the stairs where our cat Emma (not in the picture) was sitting

We’re Going to Be Alright

Our black cat Emma and our orange tabby kitten Sam sit side by side as they look out the window in my office into the backyard

We adopted Sam and Emma on the same day and kept them together in isolation for the first couple of weeks so they bonded quickly as they played and adapted to their new lives. Emma was about a year older so she and Scout helped raise the little fellow and he was naturally devastated when both his older sisters died young.

Three Years Gone

Today marks the three year anniversary of the day Emma died. I was driving along the Oregon coast this fall when out of nowhere I had this sudden thought of her and felt a sharp pang of sorrow that instantly brought tears to my eyes but not my cheeks. The thought passed as quickly as it arrived, the pain soon followed and I was back enjoying the beautiful seascapes once more. Those intense moments are rare but I’m surprised they still happen at all, it wasn’t like that with the other cats this far along, perhaps it was because she was so young and slipped so slowly through our fingers.

You are missed my sweet Em, but I’m deeply thankful for the years we spent together. In this picture she was about two years old, sitting at the entrance to my office.

Christmas Eve 2007

A close-up of our black cat Emma as she sleeps on the guest bed

A picture of Emma from 10 years ago on Christmas Eve, a couple of days after we adopted her, one of my all-time favorite Christmas presents. I thought of her as I was putting up her beloved tree a couple days ago, seeing the branches permanently bent down from her repeated climbs, hard to believe she’s been gone almost three years. Miss you Em.

Gamera vs. Emma

Our black cat Emma with her beloved stuffed turtle

Emma was sitting on my love seat and I put her favorite toy beside her so I’d have a portrait of the two of them. She loved this turtle and would sometimes carry it with her around the house. Sometimes she’d run with it, murmuring as she went, I suppose pretending she was on a great hunt.

Or maybe she was just a big Gamera fan.

I didn’t sleep well for months after she died, having recurring bad dreams. Not nightmares in the traditional sense, but the one that occurred most often was me visiting my favorite refuge in my car and I’d end up accidentally driving into the water. The car would slowly fill with water as I drove it around trying to find a place to get back onto solid ground, but I wasn’t worried about drowning, and my steering wheel could somehow direct the car even when floating, but I was worried about ruining both the car and the refuge yet didn’t know what to do. Being in an unfamiliar and deteriorating situation was the common refrain to all the dreams.

It’s not too surprising that I was haunted by such dreams, given that she slowly slipped through our fingers even though no tests identified why she was sick, and she died even though we tried everything we could. The nightmares slowly faded as I came to grips with her death.

I haven’t been out hiking since she died apart from a quick trip to Ridgefield right afterwards, initially from a mix of not feeling up to it emotionally or physically. But as I began to get more sleep, and as time healed wounds, the desire to get back out on the trails slowly returned. Unfortunately some chronic stomach problems also returned, and I even stayed home from work today, but hopefully with the return of cooler weather things will return to normal (it’s been a blistering summer here in Portland and heat is one of the things that can trigger it).

I’ll start planning my fall hiking trip this weekend, so the Tom Bihn travel bag I ordered in December will finally get to come out of its box and be put to good use.

Eyes Wide Open

Our black cat Emma rests on the hardwood floor

A picture from a couple of years ago of our cat Emma with eyes wide open, keeping an eye on young Boo who we had adopted three weeks prior. We were just starting to give him limited time into the house at large and Emma was not happy about it, following him around wherever he went. In a year and a half disease would steal Emma from us and we found ourselves introducing another young cat, Trixie, but this time it was Boo (and Sam) who were not happy about the new arrival and we were in for another slow introduction.

I had just gotten my Canon M, their little mirrorless camera, when we got Boo and was taking most of my pet pictures (then and now) with it. While it was a very flawed camera, I got it on a fire sale so there was little financial risk and I treated it as an experiment to see if I would like mirrorless cameras (I did) and with the hope that Canon would get more serious about mirrorless (they didn’t). I loved how I didn’t have to hold the camera to my eye, which not only let me get a lot of shots of the pets I wouldn’t have otherwise, but Emma was also a lot more tolerant of being photographed since she could still see my face.

I’ve been thinking for a while now about moving to a mirrorless system that would better fit my needs, or possibly going to a larger full-frame sensor, and this morning two pretty groundbreaking cameras got announced that would allow me to do both with one camera, and best of all each offers built-in image stabilization. I haven’t had much time to read up on them and, unlike my little M, either would require a massive investment in a camera I haven’t made since my first digital camera.

Right before I left for work Leica announced the Q, a gorgeous little fixed lens camera. I’ve never shot with anything as wide as its 28mm lens, nor anything as fast as it’s f/1.7 lens, but at first glance a lot of thought went into its design. I’ve always wanted to own a Leica but never have, much like in cars I’ve always wanted a Volvo, Mazda, or Alfa Romeo. This one has my interest, but on the other hand, I’m not sure I’d use it enough to justify its price tag.

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While I was at work Sony announced their latest interchangeable lens full-frame camera, the A7R II. While it had been rumored for a while, they upgraded more from the original A7R than I was expecting (a camera that intrigued me but had too many foibles to seriously tempt me). This one seems to have fixed many of my issues with the previous model, and rather curiously, there are reports that Sony was demonstrating that with an adapter you could attach Canon lenses and still get autofocus. Not sure how well it would work, but if I could use my existing lenses with it …

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