The smallest member of my feline family of three is Tucket. She and her sister, Lindy, will turn one year old at the autumnal equinox.
Tucket is a wobbler, like her sister. Unlike Lindy, Tucket has other problems, too. If there is such a thing as autism among cats, that may well be among her disabilities. She avoids eye contact, for example, and is adjusting, gradually, to being handled. It took about four months for her to allow Housemate to handle her. She seemed to find him overstimulating what with his beard and large (to her) teeth and hearty manner. But now Tucket loves Housemate, and makes frequent bids for his attention. When he comes home from work and relaxes on the sofa, Tucket puts on a show of strength, might and derring-do just for him. She thrashes her mousy, she runs, she tumbles, she leaps - - and she glances his way frequently to make sure he notices.
Tucket seemed to have found all sensory stimuli overpowering, but she is getting used to them over time. I felt that way when I was small, and still do, though not as much. We allow her to take things at her own pace, and that seems to be the right touch.
Lindy and Tucket have what we call mousies. They're covered in fake fur, with little, red, felt ears and little, pink, felt noses. They rattle. The kittens love these things. Tucket, in particular, loves hers so much that she puts them in her food bowl, and then, showing perfect logic, into the litter box. One morning I found that they had skinned a mousy and thrown its fur into the litterbox, leaving the plastic body on the floor like some barbaric warning to the other mousies. On another occasion, Tucket was so sure I had a mousy as we lay on the bed that she "watched" it fly into the air and come back down into my hand. The thing was...there was no mousy, just her vivid imagination as I mimed flipping the toy.
Tucket is fond of visiting things around the house. She can be found gazing at the glowing, blue numbers on Housemate's digital clock, patting the telephone or gazing at her buddy, the toilet plunger, as it stands in the corner. Whenever we can't find her, we look in the bathroom.
Tucket got a dollop of ice cream on Housemate's birthday this week. She lapped it up in the kitchen while we adjourned to another room. Minutes later, Tucket charged into the room where we were, hollering in her distinctive voice and shaking head briskly - - another victim of an ice cream headache, we figure.
Sometimes she's called Inspector Tucket because she watches everything and everyone intensely. She likes to look directly into the air vent in the bathroom and checks frequently to see if air is coming out. We always know when she's been doing that because she comes out blinking and dry-eyed. Housemate and I figure the Inspector is trying to solve The Case of the Air From the Hole in the Floor.
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
My feline family
My first love was a Chihuahua. I was a baby, and utterly devoted to the Chihuahua we had. Since then, many dogs and cats have come and gone in my life. I confess I am a lifelong animal-lover.
My current animal family is feline: a venerable cat of sixteen (or more) years, and a pair of nine-month old kittens. Pippy, the oldest, lost much of her vision last year to illness. She is small, feisty and not shy about punching anyone who pushes her too far. Pippy has become a little tentative since developing limited vision, as happens to many animals that lose their sight in adulthood.
The kittens are "wobblers." Their mother had distemper during their gestation, and they in turn, have cerebellar hypoplasia, a lack of development in the part of the brain that controls balance. When they first arrived, it was like having furry tumbleweeds in the house because they fell and rolled across the floor all the time. They made great strides since then, but they will tumble and fall the rest of their lives. It seldom bothers them, though sometimes they get tired and discouraged. I apply a little extra TLC at those times, and they keep going.
Pippy is not fond of the kittens, as I expected. She tolerates them, though only just. Tucket, the spritely kitten, loves to pet Pippy's back and to sniff her. She also admires Pippy's tail and finds it irresistable when it waves. Her struggle to stop herself from grabbing that tail and biting it is evident; she quivers and strains, she leans forward and back and generally tries very hard not to attack the tantilizing tail.
Lindy, the affectionate purr-cat, is shaped like a bowling pin. Her large, round rump has a mind of its own and makes it tough for her to get where she wants to go. I altered a pop song to suit Lindy's rear end,
"Oh, the wayward end,
is a restless end,
a restless end
that yearns to wander..."
I'm sure Gogi Grant wouldn't mind. Lindy wants to cuddle with Pippy, wants to be her best friend, her playmate. Pippy believes that's beneath her dignity. She can freeze Lindy's overtures with a single look, and what a frosty look it is!
Pippy had an impregnable fortress on Housemate's bed until Lindy and Tucket learned to get there this summer. They can't jump up there, but they can pull themselves onto the bed. Now Pippy's dignity is assaulted when she tries to sleep and they lie nearby, gazing at her and inching closer.
I would love to publish photos of my feline family, but there are complications. So far all I have gotten are extreme closeups, some of paws batting at the camera lens, and some of eyeballs peering into the lens. I hope you like this word picture of my feline family instead of a photo essay.
My current animal family is feline: a venerable cat of sixteen (or more) years, and a pair of nine-month old kittens. Pippy, the oldest, lost much of her vision last year to illness. She is small, feisty and not shy about punching anyone who pushes her too far. Pippy has become a little tentative since developing limited vision, as happens to many animals that lose their sight in adulthood.
The kittens are "wobblers." Their mother had distemper during their gestation, and they in turn, have cerebellar hypoplasia, a lack of development in the part of the brain that controls balance. When they first arrived, it was like having furry tumbleweeds in the house because they fell and rolled across the floor all the time. They made great strides since then, but they will tumble and fall the rest of their lives. It seldom bothers them, though sometimes they get tired and discouraged. I apply a little extra TLC at those times, and they keep going.
Pippy is not fond of the kittens, as I expected. She tolerates them, though only just. Tucket, the spritely kitten, loves to pet Pippy's back and to sniff her. She also admires Pippy's tail and finds it irresistable when it waves. Her struggle to stop herself from grabbing that tail and biting it is evident; she quivers and strains, she leans forward and back and generally tries very hard not to attack the tantilizing tail.
Lindy, the affectionate purr-cat, is shaped like a bowling pin. Her large, round rump has a mind of its own and makes it tough for her to get where she wants to go. I altered a pop song to suit Lindy's rear end,
"Oh, the wayward end,
is a restless end,
a restless end
that yearns to wander..."
I'm sure Gogi Grant wouldn't mind. Lindy wants to cuddle with Pippy, wants to be her best friend, her playmate. Pippy believes that's beneath her dignity. She can freeze Lindy's overtures with a single look, and what a frosty look it is!
Pippy had an impregnable fortress on Housemate's bed until Lindy and Tucket learned to get there this summer. They can't jump up there, but they can pull themselves onto the bed. Now Pippy's dignity is assaulted when she tries to sleep and they lie nearby, gazing at her and inching closer.
I would love to publish photos of my feline family, but there are complications. So far all I have gotten are extreme closeups, some of paws batting at the camera lens, and some of eyeballs peering into the lens. I hope you like this word picture of my feline family instead of a photo essay.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
"I like to sing-a...
more cat pictures
...about the moon-a and the June-a and the spring-a!"
This June, all of us moon-lovers are singing about tomorrow's full summer solstice moon and how it will appear extra large and close. To read how this works, try this article titled, "Don't Miss a Huge June Moon Illusion:"
www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25212851/
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
(nearly) Wordless Wednesday
Handsome Herbie, the blind cat, found a loving, permanent home at a sanctuary for disabled animals. www.rollingdogranch.org
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