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You are viewing the most recent 20 entries September 18th, 200912:22 am: Scenario
Poll #4310
Open to: All, results viewable to: AllLooking for a number 7 out of 10 people prefer "Ooh, clicky thing!" There is an enormous spider scuttling around my sitting-room. Both my cats are outside, just when I could use a good little furry killer. Current Mood:  tired , polls
August 29th, 200911:23 am: Bob's story
Consider this a literary exercise, and don't be too judgy. (A bit judgy is OK, it is awfully sweet.) This site was inviting interesting cat stories, so I wrote down Bob's for them, and I did it in the format of Cute Sad Cat Story With Happy Ending, Told From Cat's Actual Point Of View. (In point of fact, I remain firmly convinced, the idea that cats have a point of view falls squarely into the realm of Fantasy Cat, though see item 15 on the list.) ( Bob's story )      Current Mood: okay , cats, writing
June 25th, 200901:24 pm: Chocolate, art, cats, and warnings
Danish chocolate isn't particularly good. At least, not the box full of berry-flavoured marzipan chocolates Transamurai brought back from Oslo. I like marzipan, but these were dull. I'm going to an art exhibition tonight in Glasgow, meeting up with ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) solo. I think it's going to be fun, but I'm glad I'm going with solo. Because I wasn't going to be back till late, I turned Bob back from eating grass in the garden this morning. She was not a happy kitty. On warnings for fanfic: The distinction is not between people who have suffered a trauma and people who have not: it it is between people who like being warned of anything untoward in their reading before they take a look at it, and people who do not. The categories are not identical, and indeed I am not sure they even overlap in any significant way.        Current Mood: busy , chocolate, glasgow, imaginary friend meetup, meta
June 8th, 200912:42 pm: Bob is too thin.
She's 3.1 kilos. The thinnest she's been before, last September, was 3.2 kilos. She went up to 3.4 kilos last time she saw the vet. She had an appointment to be seen by the vet this morning, and the vet went over her thoroughly - no lump in her thyroid, no sign of tumours elsewhere. No reason she should have lost weight, except she has and is: she's eating but not enough. She's lively as usual, and affectionate at me and growly at Wolf. But too thin. She feels far too light when I pick her up. I couldn't even make this post last night, I was too worried. I feel better that the vet's checked her over - I was thinking (among other horrid prospects) that how Cally went was a tumour in her stomach that stopped her from eating. Wolf is ginormous. I'm going to have to buy a bigger cage to take him to the vet next month for his booster shots: he'll never fit into the one I use for Bob. Current Mood: worried , cats, wolf
May 16th, 200904:17 pm: Of strawberries, carpets, cats, and kittens
I am in my bedroom, and Bob is sitting beside me, looking very wary and disconcerted. A bloke called Alan, who looks far too young to have a regular job (yes, yes, I am getting old) is cleaning my hall and stair carpet, for £45. The company what is doing it is H2O. He is using some kind of powdery green chemical which - I was checking out the label on the giant carton - is remarkably short on specifics: it's Heavy Duty Detergent, made by Prochem, 30% phosphates, do not get on bare skin, keep away from small children. Contains ionic and anionic cleaners, FWIW. Anyway. The point of paying someone else to clean the hall carpet is to find out if this improves my nose. My allergy, rather, but we'll call it my nose. Properly, my guess is, I would need to have someone else clean every carpet in the house, but as I am achieving this by stacking the various things that normally live in the hall in my bedroom or the sitting-room, I'll stick with the carpet which I definitely notice as incredibly dusty a lot of the time. (It gets vacuumed more, but needs it more.) Alan rang this morning to find out if he could come round earlier than 4pm (the original appointment had been made for arrival any time between 4 and 5:30) but I said no, as I had my usual Saturday stuff to do. Walked over to the pet shop (the nearest one to me that sells Hills Science Diet: I also bought a bag of Burns biscuit to see if Bob could also be tempted with that, and a wee bag of cod liver capsules, which I intend handfeeding to Bob on a daily basis (because it will make me feel better about her being so skinny, since you ask, not because the vet is specially recommending this). And as I was packing all this into my backpack, the assistant tells me they have a new litter of kittens in. Cally's mother Amber came from this shop, back in 1988 - back then, before the SSPCA had got going on "Please sterilise your cat unless you intend to be a breeder", the "new litter of kittens" happened quite a lot. Less frequent now. Much less frequent now. The pet shop always used to accept a healthy litter, at least six weeks old and weaned, and offer them for sale for £5 each plus. (The plus would be where they made their profit: when Ajay bought Amber and Witch, she got a stack of stuff with them - the kitten food, litter tray, handbook, plus a load of free advice.) Anyway, so, I went to look and stayed to squee. I feel slightly guilty because of the health risk (to the kittens: while my cats are vaccinated, no one asked me if I was safe), but I even picked two of the kittens up: a tiny little fluffy grey thing with four white paws who looked at me with amiable bewilderment, and a slightly larger fluffy grey thing with a ginger mask, who was practically dropping asleep from over-excitement (I put her back in the cage after a minute, and she went from bounce to nap before she could yawn). I was tempted - I really was - but Bob was not happy about Wolf, and though the pair of them are getting on much better now (I distinctly saw Bob sniffing/licking Wolf over last night) I don't think she'd be happy to be presented with Brand New Kitten. Though Wolf would probably think it was cute. But no. One should never impulse-buy kittens. Though I saw a couple of girls who were squeeing before I left who very evidently wanted their mum to impulse-buy kittens for them. There was also a very bouncy long-haired tabby, who if I'd been seriously on the look-out for a kitten, would probably have been my serious considered choice: awesomely pretty when she grows up, plus clearly extremely healthy, active, and definitely weaned. (The smaller kittens, I suspect, were still doing a "where's mum??" a bit.) And then I walked down to Tattie Shaws and bought pears from Belgium and apples from France, and four satsumas, and ... my first strawberries this year. I've been resisting the berries flown in from Spain or elsewhere, because really, I know they won't taste of anything much: but Scottish strawberries, misshapen and slightly pale though they are, perfume the air: I bought a whole punnet, and ate half within minutes as soon as I got home. Yum. (The other half I kept for breakfast tomorrow.) You can get "fresh strawberries" that have been airlifted in so easily that it's way too easy to forget what strawberries really taste like - the scented, indescribably sweet, fruity flavour of a berry that was sun-ripened and attached to a bush only 24 hours ago. The Alan finished, and my carpet is now way cleaner than it was. (He poured the water from downstairs down my kitchen sink, which I am none too happy with: I need to go buy sink unblocker now.)     Current Mood: chipper , bob, carpet cleaning, cats, kittenlove!, nose of a nose, wolf
May 13th, 200912:58 am: Bob went slightly missing
This caused me to Not Panic for some time after I got back from the Star Trek movie (which I may post more about when I'm less tired). You know the Not Panic thing where you are officially Not Panicking because that would be silly, but inside where no one can see you're panicking away like crazy? (And, just then, because the universe hates me, IJ went down.) But I went out again when the street was totally quiet (late) and called Bob's name: and found her by her wailing, shut inside a neighbour's garden shed. This is the second time this has happened to her. Silly cat wanders in, thinks Nice Sheltered Spot, settles down for a nap... and doesn't notice she's been locked in. So. I left notes up on the fence by the shed and through their front door, and will try to catch them before they go out, and I left Bob shut in the shed wailing a bit, because she could hear me outside and wanted OUT, now, dammit... and Wolf prowling around outside, looking at me in befuzzlement because I didn't do the human-magic thing of getting the door open.     Current Mood: sleepy , cats
February 13th, 200912:38 pm: So, I took Bob to the vet this morning
...and the scale wobbled back and forth between 3.3 and 3.4 kilos (same as last time) but the vet identified the worrying rash/scabs on her back as a standard reaction to fleabites. Even though I hadn't spotted any flea dirt, on Bob or on Wolf, and the vet couldn't find any either, he still thought the pattern was unmistakable, so I got a round of steroids for Bob to help with the swelling (and pick up her appetite) and fleakiller for both cats (and will go past Dofos and pick up herbal flea collars for them both). And made an appointment for two weeks time. Current Mood: annoyed , cats, wolf
December 5th, 200807:58 pm: Overdose of cuteness under cut
( lolcats limited )Current Mood: amused June 18th, 200811:53 pm: A Week in the Life of Yonmei, Volume 3 (Wednesday)
These are the rules. ( Leith church )=== ( trees frame )=== ( Growing steps )=== ( Stone door )=== ( River houses )=== ( Cat neighbour )=== ( Neighbour cat )=== ( Felimazole )Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Current Mood: accomplished , cats, meme, photos, worrying about my cats
March 3rd, 200809:47 am: Holy cow! ...or rather, cat!
Both my cats are curled up peaceably on my bed, inches apart, both washing themselves in that comfortable relaxed way cats do when "hey, nothing else to do, not sleepy: might as well groom". Bob just sniffed at the back of Wolf's neck - Wolf has proper grown-up cat collar now, but the only silver-luminous one I could find was a flea-collar, which ordinarily I wouldn't have considered - and when Wolf turned to sniff back, Bob did a rather lazy "hiss! spit!" but neither of them moved. Translated into human-type dialogue: Bob: Hmm, what's that you're wearing? Wolf: Unh... hi. What did you have for breakfast? Bob: I still hate you, you know. Wolf: Yeah, yeah. I just took twenty minutes I didn't really have to spare to clean out their cat litter trays, but, well. Their cat litter does, in fact, cover up the odour of cat piss, and to a certain extent of catshit. However, when wet, it exudes a certain unpleasant chemical odour of its own, which is nicer by comparison, but only by comparison. I try not to think about how bad it probably is for the environment. Current Mood: chipper , cats, wolf
October 5th, 200710:08 pm: My little kitten...
Wolf is now wearing a collar. (And would have been wearing one 10 days ago for my own peace of mind, but the pet shop kept not getting the kitten-size delivered.) It's a slightly awesome moment when the collar goes on: and by awesome I mean can lead to lots of kitten-jumping and acting spooked. Just to make matters awesomely worse for Wolf, since the shop didn't have any reflective collars kitten-sized, and since he is almost completely black, I got the kitten-collar that was light, bright green, with a little shiny doodad hanging from it, and I'd got the address tag in white, and... there was the Flasher. So the collar clipped on, and suddenly, no matter where Wolf ran, there was this little ringy bell, and this little shiny doodad, and the address tag, and... the Flasher. The Flasher is a gadget that comes in various different sizes (I got the last kitten-sized one in the shop. It's red. It has three little batteries sold with (the tiny little silver sort that look like mini-aspirins for robots). And it has an LCD chip in one end that flashes bright red/bright blue. All the time. Once everything's put together (which took me quite a while and one embarrassing phone call, because Wolf thought it was a fun toy, and also I dropped one of the batteries without realising it, and spent a while trying to figure out how to get it to work with two, before realising what had happened during the phone call to the pet shop, and going back to re-examine the stretch of hall where the battery must have fallen now I knew it should have been there) you turn it on and the thing flashes. I am not leaving it on the entire time - I think that would drive me and Wolf mad, and possibly Bob, too - but hopefully, whenever Wolf is out and it is or will be dark, I can turn it on and give car drivers a fair chance of realising that the black cat in the dark night is actually there. Because I live in a dead end street, with not much space for parking, cars usually come up the street extremely slowly, and they're usually driven by people who live here, and who don't want to kill neighbour's children or cats or their own children or cats. Still, it was worrying me, because you can't expect a car driver to avoid running over a cat they can't see, and I recall a couple of instances where Cally clearly avoided being run over only because the driver could see her and didn't want to do it. (Cally and Gallus shortly developed a very wholesome dread of loud noises, such as those caused by cars: I hope Wolf does, too.) Wolf is sitting on my lap at this moment, with his head resting on my left forearm. It really is a very ugly collar. The silver one suitable for adult cats is much prettier, and will look extremely decorative against his black fur. When he's old enough. *mentally urges Wolf to grow* Current Mood: relieved , wolf
February 6th, 200609:01 pm: Gallus's Day Out
This morning, I burned a potato in the microwave, and it left behind it that peculiarly foul aroma - famine itself sickens at it, as Charlotte Bronte observed. So I opened the kitchen window, switched off the central heating, and nipped upstairs and opened the bathroom and bedroom windows, too. Bob was lurking in the hall. Gallus was curled up asleep on the spare room bed. I left for work, and came back about six, to find Bob lurking in the hall, and Gallus... not asleep on the spare room bed. I had been wandering around the house for an hour or so, closing windows, switching on heating, heating and eating soup and getting other things done, when it dawned on me that Gallus wasn't here. At all. ( cut for suspense )Tags: cats, gallus, neighbours
March 7th, 200412:15 pm: What bloody cat is this?
If there is anything more disturbing than finding bloody pawprints on the kitchen floor, but nothing that could have caused them and no injuries on the paws of the cats, I don't know what it is. Must run. Am already late to meet chillies. Tags: cats
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