T is for Here's One Thing I Know

 All my life, you're a friend of mine

We spent the day beginning to adapt to the Bingo-shaped hole in our lives. Oh, it is certain to shrink over time, but right now there are so many little things that remind us of our loss-- the extra food in the fridge, the unused bowl on the dish drain, the vacancy at the end of the couch-- you get the idea. He's gone and we really miss him.

At the end, it was our responsibility to ensure that he did not suffer. Such a choice is hard but very clear.

Life Lesson: 

And you can count on me until the day you die

S is for So Long

and thanks for everything, Bingo! We'll miss you.

Life Lesson: I don't know. It's hard to find a lesson in loss.

On This Date...

JK Rowling turns 46
Harry Potter turns 31
and Bingo the cat?
18 baby!
Now that's old!
Happy Birthday Bing!

The Spirit is Willing, but the Flesh is Weak

I've written a lot about one of our cats, Bingo, but I rarely mention the other. Her name is Penelope, and it is the name she came with when we adopted her from a rescue organization. For the first couple of years of her life, she was a feral cat-- born wild and living as nobody's pet. The vet said she has had at least one litter of kittens, too. Her first three months in our home were spent in the guest room, under the bed. She was terrified of everything and everyone. We were okay with giving her as much space and time as she needed, though, because really? What's the rush?

Over the last seven years, she has come a long way-- much further than simply out from under the bed. Oh, she's still very skittish; in fact she still runs away from me any time we meet on the stairs, but she warms to visitors much more quickly, and there is something about her manner which clearly communicates her desire to please us.

Desire and willingness are not always the same, however, and so she occasionally bites and flees, not to mention puts up a hell of a fight whenever the cat carrier makes an appearance. Still, I admire her spirit, though her flesh may be a bit weak. It all reminds me of one of Aesop's fables:


A scorpion and a frog met on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asked the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asked, "How do I know you won't sting me?" 

The scorpion said, "Because if I do, I will die too." The frog was satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stung the frog. 

As they both began to sink, the frog had just enough time to ask "Why?" 

And the scorpion replied: "Because it is my nature."

70-30: Penelope would have made it across.

Caught Pink-Pawed

I've written before about our geriatric cat, Bingo. Pushing 18, (isn't that like 300 in cat years?), he continues to astonish us. As I've probably mentioned, the most notable thing about his dotage has been his weight loss and subsequent voracious appetite, particularly his extreme fondness for vegetables-- green beans, butternut squash, avocado, and so forth.

Today, he added to his bony bad-ass reputation:

Roasted beets cooling on the stove? Shouldn't be a concern, right?

Wrong.

Missing: One whole roasted beet.

Exhibit one: Torn aluminum foil and a trail of beet bits accross the stove.
Exhibit two: Bright pink paws and muzzle on a certain Maine Coon cat.

Gee. I wonder what happened to the beet.

9 is for 9 Lives

One of our cats is almost 18 years old. His name is Bingo, and he has had quite a life. Besides the hundreds of mice and birds he's stalked and killed, he's been hit by a car, overcome diabetes, coughed up a two foot piece of grass, nearly died twice, and caught a bird right through the second story window screen. (Yes, through the screen!)

In his glory days he weighed sixteen pounds, but now, at 17 and 3/4, he's super skinny and feels as hollow as a little bird when you pick him up. His long hair sticks out all crazy, too, like the old dude he is, but he hasn't lost any of his spirit. Long ago, Heidi told him he wasn't allowed to die, and it seems like he took those words verrrrry seriously. Every day, he eats like a horse and he can still jump up on the counter to find more food. His favorites are waffles and green beans. In fact, he was pestering me tonight (actually climbing up my leg in the kitchen!) as I cooked dinner, and why? Because I was fixing beans.

Life Lesson: Go for it every single day!

What's Going on in those Furry Little Heads

We had the pet psychic visit today. Believe what you will, but she has always been amazingly accurate for us, and so it's worth every penny to feel like we have 60 minutes of direct communication with our pets. Even though we're pretty sure we have a general idea of what our dog and two cats are probably thinking and feeling, it's nice to have confirmation, and in some cases, correction.

Our dog started as she always does: she feels gorgeous and everyone always tells her how pretty she is. She likes her toys, ice cubes in her water dish, and sleeping late on the weekends. She's going to the beach this summer, and she likes the garden-- she's very well-behaved there, and even helps a little. Unfortunately, that's where she got the ticks; one was fat and one wasn't. All this without a word from us.

Our younger cat said that she's fed up with the older one, because he's so cranky all the time, so now whenever he gets close to her she screams. She's also a little upset that she can't go out on the deck, and she blames him for that. She knows that if it wasn't for his inveterate deck-hopping, they would be allowed outside. She likes having her own litter box, but wishes she could eat by herself, too. In fact privacy was kind of a theme of hers: she spends only as much time as she wants to with people, and then she goes away alone for a while.

As for the old guy, it was as we feared. He has some sort of a slow-growing tumor. At the moment, he's not uncomfortable, and although this is definitely the last chapter of his life, it's a thick chapter. He'll let us know when it's time to say good-bye.

Oh, and he's NEVER going to sit quietly outside the kitchen and wait to be fed. We should just give up on that one.