Thankfully we’ve had a number of storms this monsoon season, bringing desperately needed rain to the parched desert. Trixie would like to point out, however, that while she doesn’t mind the rain (she’s Oregon born and raised after all) she knows from personal experience that you can have rain without the constant scary booms and flashes of light. She goes into hiding for hours at a time while the lightning storms move through, recently I found she made a nest in some of the softer clothes in my closet. Brother Boo holds out longer but he has his limits, while our oldest Sam generally sleeps right through them, though the loudest thunderclaps might get him to raise his head and look around to make sure it’s OK to continue napping.
Here Trixie is sleeping atop the new cat tree, her brothers haven’t taken to it but she loves it. I’m not sure Emma would have ever left it if we had something like it during her life, except of course when the Christmas tree was up.
Sam needs oral surgery but in preparation they noticed some odd heart behavior so he went to a cardiologist and was diagnosed with heart disease, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM), so he’ll get his surgery at a specialist with an anesthesiologist trained for his condition. Then he’ll be on a blood thinner to reduce stroke risk, thankfully I think it’s in pill form as he likes pill pockets but getting liquid down his throat is not for the faint of heart. He’s not showing any symptoms yet so depending on how his condition progresses he might be with us for years to come, he’s to get periodic evaluations every six months and we need to keep a close eye on any symptoms that develop.
Emma and Sam spend a quiet moment in the cat tree in front of one of the picture windows in the summer of 2009. It didn’t stay quiet long, in a minute Emma snuck down and poked Sam from above. The sneak attack poke was a favorite game of theirs and fortunately they had each other to play it with as the much older Scout was not a fan.
Sam has slowed down a bit in his 13th year. He still loves sleeping atop the cat tree but now he hops onto each level instead of jumping to the top in one fell swoop. He still grouses at me when I get home from work or a hike if I take too long to get settled, as he loves to jump into my lap and purr to beat the band.
One change over the past year, and I don’t know if it’s related to Ellie’s death or a coincidence of timing, is that when he first climbs aboard he likes to hang out as high on my body as he can, even up by my face if I’m reclining, before eventually going back to my lap or legs when he wants to fall asleep. As a youngster he considered that Scout’s space, and since he adored her he let her have her spot (she would have demanded it even if he didn’t). Perhaps now that all of the pets he grew up with are gone he’s feeling a little insecure, or he’s claiming it as his rightful space as the oldest, or maybe it’s just a change with age.
Sometimes he snuggles up behind my head but that’s usually when Trixie, who worships him as he did Scout, smushes her face into his when he’s not in the mood.
After we got out first cat tree in 2009, it took Emma a little while to try it but once she did, she fell in love. I found her in the afternoon hugging the tree, even if it was just the way she was sleeping it does reflect her feelings for what became a favorite hangout. In the second picture she looked back through the big picture window and her face was lit by the afternoon light.
Perhaps wildlife watching would be more apt, it might have been a squirrel in the big trees out front that grabbed his attention rather than a bird. From the summer of 2009 in Portland, this was our first cat tree back before it got so much love it had to be retired.
As the seasons pass some animals change elevation seeking temperatures more to their liking, Samwise no exception. With the full heat of summer coming on our snuggler extraordinaire will often come in for some affection and then flee to the tops of the cat trees where he can stretch out and cool off a bit. Trixie feels no such migratory urges and the little furnace has been stretched out along my legs all morning as we watch Formula 1 practicing in Austria.
I was playing around with mixed lighting, Trixie is mostly lit by the dying light of a spring evening streaming through my window, while the walls are lit by small ceiling lights.
It may technically still be spring but it has long felt like summer to someone who didn’t grow up in the desert, including one sleepy orange tabby.
All are welcome, all are welcome.