A picture of Sam zonked out on our couch, taken back in early January when he was just a little kitten and had only been with us a couple of weeks. I wanted to emphasize how little he was so I zoomed out and took a wide angle shot.
Tag: sleeping
Homage
When I saw Sam sleeping in the heated bed with his ears sticking up over the top, it reminded me of a picture of Templeton in a similar pose and I couldn’t resist paying tribute.
Samwise
We have a couple of these heated cat beds, this one sits beside my desk. It was one of Templeton’s favorite spots when he was still with us and has now been claimed by little Sam. Scout sleeps here sometimes as well, but Emma prefers sleeping in the open on the floor or on the desk itself.
I’ll Be A Sunbeam
One of my favorite pictures of Sam, taken a couple of months ago when he was about 5 months old. He’s growing like crazy and is about as long as Scout now (but much thinner). He’s turning into a real lap cat, the past few evenings he’s been sleeping on my lap while I’ve been watching the basketball playoffs.
Exhausted
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.
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.
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.
Fitful Sleep
There were several aspects I wanted to capture in this picture of an elk in Yellowstone National Park. There’s a slightly comical aspect in that the sleeping bull is almost invisible save for his antlers which stick up out of the tall grass and completely betray his presence. The bull isn’t really trying to hide, but I wondered if he wouldn’t have preferred at that moment to be able to just take the antlers off while he slept, if only so he could lay his head wherever and however he liked.
I also wanted to convey the exhaustion the bulls feel at the end of the rut. He slept most of the time I watched him, but couldn’t resist raising his head and answering the call whenever another bull bugled in the distance. Fortunately all of the people watching him kept their distance so he was able to rest in the quiet periods. A couple of weeks before I visited, one of the bulls had its neck snapped while it was sparring with one of the other bulls. These fights usually aren’t fatal, but add in disease, predators, and the long winter, and I do wonder how many of the animals I see will still be around come spring.
Boolie 