Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
A picture of Sam playing yesterday. At first I was annoyed with myself for not doing a better job and getting everything in frame, but after a while the picture grew on me and I like the way the composition highlights the helter skelter style of his play.
After giving praise to the Oregon Humane Society and our vets at Laurelhurst, I have a major bone to pick with both of them. The Humane Society told us that Sam might have an upper respiratory infection, had diarrhea, and had been treated for fleas and ear mites. All good, we wanted to know as much of the little guy’s medical history as possible. Sam got an exam at Laurelhurst as soon as possible and it was discovered that the mites were probably gone but he had a yeast infection in his ears, so we’ve been treating that.
But how is it that both of these fine organizations neglected to tell us that little Sam has Jedi powers? I was watching Sam and Emma play with their furry mice when suddenly Sam began to levitate the albino mouse. Fortunately I had my camera in hand to document the event, as people tend to not believe me about things like this.
Maybe we should have named him Yoda?
Thanks to the good work of the folks at the Oregon Humane Society, such as Scott who helped us, Sam and Emma weren’t the only pets to find good homes over the Christmas holidays.
The night before we went to the Humane Society, I browsed the online list of available cats and wrote out a list of the many names, crossing out the ones that weren’t recommended for a multiple cat household. I highlighted in yellow those I thought sounded interesting, one of which was Sam (then named Candy Cane) and one of which was Emma (then named Purrana).
I’ve been browsing the recently adopted pet list at the Humane Society’s web site to see what other animals got adopted, after watching them all it was hard not to want to back up the ark to the front door and bring them all home. I’ve been happy to see so many of the cats find homes, particularly those we came close to bringing home ourselves.
There was the little black kitten, Mad Max, a playful little thing who we requested first and actually got his paperwork before we changed our mind and requested Sam, and Sam was so adorable we didn’t look for any other kittens so young. I was happy to see that Mad Max got adopted later, as did his cage mate Will Smith. So did Snowflake, a lovely creature who was next on our list if we didn’t go with Emma.
Isis also found a home, an energetic black kitten who we feared might be a little too aggressive. Jack Frost, a very timid all white cat that lived in the same room, also got adopted. So did Lily, another all white cat who seemed very sweet but was not recommended for multi-cat homes.
Thankfully nine year old Sidney also found a home, she didn’t care for shelter life and was ill while we were there. Also adopted were Pudge and Truman Capote, who looked too much like Templeton for us to really consider.
To my great surprise, Crumpet also got adopted, an occasionally irritable black cat who had been there half a year. If we didn’t already have Scout, I would have wanted to adopt Crumpet, after Templeton I have a real soft spot for cats who seem irritable in such public situations but who might be a real lovable lap cat at home. But I didn’t want to risk it with Scout, getting used to new cats in the house is going to be hard enough for her, and we think Sam and Emma will be good companions for her for years to come.
So my thanks to all those who helped these animals find homes, and my best wishes that the remaining pets will soon find homes of their own.
Sam’s tags have water on them in this picture, he sometimes accidentally dunks them as he goes to get a drink.
Sam was posing on top of the scratching post, just staring at the wall, and his tags and pose reminded me of an athlete accepting a gold medal at the Olympics.
Note: In the interest of family fairness, I should point out that, at over a year old, Emma would have been in the running for cutest kitten of 2006, thus I’m not showing any bias for Sam. I’m not slighting her because she chewed on my laptop’s power cord, just so you know.
Sam and Emma are resting after a good play session where they started to feel each other out. We’re going to keep them in isolation from Scout for a bit longer but after a good visit to the vet they are now both staying in the guest bedroom.
Emma had a rough night last night. We had been keeping her in isolation from both Sam and Scout in the downstairs bathroom, sometimes letting her wander the house when Sam and Scout weren’t around. At night when I went to bed, she started mewing loudly and clawing at the door of the bathroom. I went to bed with Scout, but my wife eventually woke up to the racket so I went down and slept with Emma on the floor for a few hours. After she was settled I went back upstairs where Scout was still sleeping in the bed.
In the morning, both Sam and Emma had their first visit to the vet, Laurelhurst Veterinary Hospital, who have looked after Templeton and Scout in the past. Emma was quite the lady except for when she was confined to her carrier in the vet’s office. She attempted a repeat of Saturday’s escape attempt, but this time she was thwarted by the plastic carrier and its metal grate — not that it kept her from trying. But otherwise her visit went well, she may have a mild case of upper respiratory infection that often occurs in kennels, and we’re going to have to see if she bathes as regularly as she should, but otherwise her health looks good. The rough night and the escape attempt must have worn her out, though, as I’ve never seen a cat in as deep a sleep as Emma was this afternoon. Perhaps it’s just her nature, time will tell.
Sam (pictured above) had a good night, even if my wife didn’t — she spent the night with him and between his loud and constant purring and his playing, she wasn’t getting the best night’s sleep before Emma’s woeful cries woke her up for good. Sam was the perfect gentleman at the vet, purring so loudly that the vet couldn’t get a good reading on his lungs until she distracted him and quieted his motor. Well he was the perfect gentleman until it came time to draw some blood, at which point he attempted to draw some blood of his own. To be fair, he let out a long and loud wail of warning before the claws started flying, so perhaps he was the gentleman even then. A towel was called for to keep his legs wrapped up while they worked on his ears, he had mites before and a yeast infection so they cleaned out his ears for us and we’re giving additional treatment at home. They also think he’s younger than the four months estimated by the humane society based on his size, you can’t tell it so well from the pictures but he’s a skinny little thing.
Scout is still not happy about the visitors into her home, but she did start playing with me today — more than she’s played at any time since Templeton died. It will take her a while to come around — after all Templeton taught her that all cats but the two of them were not to be tolerated — but given the personalities of these two, I think she’ll come around in time.
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 …
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.
Boolie 