Settling In

Caffery is acclimating nicely to his temporary digs. He's finding all kinds of places to snuggle and sleep, including where the sun falls in the afternoon.





He's found the high ground.






He has a new friend, who loves giving him kisses.





He's also found out where we sleep, and plants his considerable mass at the foot of the bed (usually my foot) for the duration of the night. I won't lie to you, it's nice to wake up to.



Lastly, because everyone needs a gratuitous picture of The Kid, I present:





Yeah, I am actually that lucky. Who knew?

The View from the Other Side of the Street

Hello humans. I found this computing thing logged on and thought I would check in.

My name is Caffrey. I am a felis catus and have found myself residing in a really nice hotel run by 2 humans I remember from my distant past, as well as one of their offspring. They seem nice enough, although their child insists on pronouncing my name with three syllables; Caf-Fer-Ry. Not really sure what that's all about, but the small one pets me and seems to like me, so I'll overlook it.

These new humans have yet to learn that my vertical leap can exceed 6 feet. Until that time, I fully expect to find more nom-noms on the table like the McNugget I saw earlier today. Unfortunately, the woman that runs the hotel espied my stealthy approach and swipped my potential prey before I could strike. Too bad. It looked teh yummeh.

jhsadhasdosadoughuasdbjhakdfuhhdfbjb --- CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED ---

Hello all. Jeopardy here. Sorry about that. As you may have guessed, we are cat-sitting, for our dear friends the Stuttses, while they take care of their newborn son. Remember him? No, they didn't name him Bubba, but Mason is pretty cool too.

I know what you're thinking: What's with the cat?

The Stutts 4 are in Jacksonville, FL for a few months, and during that time, their cat was here with Caroline's folks, Nee Nee and Pop Pop. When we heard that Nee Nee and Pop Pop were headed down to JAX, we volunteered to take care of the cat while they were gone. Ergo, a new, but temporary cat.

He's fitting in nicely, finding spots to hang out (mostly by windows) and figuring out the best ways onto the counters, tables, and any other horizontal surface other than the floor.

It's nice to have a 4-legged pal in the house again. Still too soon for a new one of our own, but anything we can do to help a friend.

A Lost Art

The conventional wisdom is that canning is a lost art. There has been a resurgence of late, what with the recession and all. Of course, some people have been canning all along. My sister-in-law (The Kid's aunt Shannie) is one of those people. Of course, it helps that they have a rather extensive garden. When I say extensive, I mean extensive...

While I was defending the country this weekend, The Wife took the Kid down to the farm and came back with lots of canned goodies. What was The Kid's favorite? That would be the green beans. She couldn't even wait for us to get them out of the jar. Don't believe me?

Yeah. It was like that.

The Kid also learned an important lesson this past weekend. When a Southern Lady visits a garden, one must dress...appropriately.

That isn't to say that a Southern Lady (hereinafter referred to as a Magnolia) is not capable of a little hard work. If you have a yard that needs to me mowed and a tractor with which to mow, Magnolias will always help.

LOLCat

Anyone who knows me knows why this teh funneh.

This Will Do

For now, anyway.

I decided on Sunday that we needed to get out of the house with The Kid for a little bit and did a little shopping.

Among other things, we bought an infrared video baby monitor. Fascinating stuff. Turns out she doesn't actually go to sleep when we put her to bed. She tosses and turns, talks, walks around in her crib (!), and re-arranges her stuffed animals.

Until she falls asleep about an hour after we put her down, it's the best show on. Bar none.

Speaking of stuffed animals, The Kid is still asking where Prynnie is. I tell her that she's gone and won't be coming back, but she doesn't get it.

So we dropped by a few toy stores to see if we could find a stuffed animal that at least resembled Prynnie.

Lo and behold, we did.

The Kid loves her. Calls her Prynnie and gives her hugs.

Now when she asks, I tell her "She's over there." and point to her new favorite toy.

Makes me happy.

What could be Better

than having your daughter make you some pancakes on Saturday morning?



Not much.

Catharsis in Prose

I suppose I’m writing this for myself more than anything, but it’s my blog, so I can pretty much do what I want for whatever reason.

Back in May, our cat got sick, so we took her to the vet. I wrote about it here.

It’s now almost August, and while things improved for a while, they started going downhill again about 2 or 3 weeks ago. We decided to discontinue her IV treatments since they were obviously not helping anymore. All we were doing was putting her in needless pain to prolong the inevitable. By last week she had stopped eating regularly, and Monday was the last time she ate anything at all. She was getting weaker and weaker by the day.

On Tuesday night, she followed us up to our room and slept on the bed all night. Although she used to do that every night without fail, she hadn’t done it since June. It must have taken everything in her to make it up the stairs.

By Wednesday night she had become so weak that she was barely able to stand. Although she had weighed around 9 pounds at her maximum, she had probably dropped to around 4. She was still bright and alert, but her body was wasting away in front of us.

She was in pain, and we knew it. The Wife and I had a heart-to-heart and knew it was just a matter or time. We had to do the right thing by her.

I called The Wife from the office this morning and asked her if the appropriate arrangements could be made. She’s a rock at times like this, and for that, I am forever grateful. I knew full well that my colleagues and subordinates didn’t need to see me trying to make that phone call. Not good for morale and all that.

When she called back, she said an appointment was set for 4 this afternoon. That way we could take care of it before we had to pick up The Kid. She didn’t need to be involved. I called my boss and cryptically explained that I needed to leave a little early. She could tell it was something I needed to do.

We got home, spent a few final moments alone at home, and got in the car.

The event itself was what it was. I’ve been through it before, and it wasn’t easy then either. A dose of anesthetic, and she fell asleep. Once it had taken effect, the doctor administered the final sedative that would end her pain. The wife and I were petting her the entire time, and she had her head lying on my arm. Once it was done, the doc left the room so we could be alone. I’m not ashamed to say that I cried. We both did. A lot.

We composed ourselves as not to frighten the other patrons, picked up the empty cat carrier, and left. Vets never make you pay for this sort of thing right away. It’s probably best that way.

We returned home to a house with filled with reminders of the life that no longer lives here. Her food dish, water bowl, and even the litter boxes. Removing them is part of the process. It has to be done, and putting it off won’t help.

Lastly, there’s The Kid. At her age, she can’t comprehend what has happened. She’s looking around for Prynnie, and asking where she is. I try to explain, but she won’t understand for quite a while. And that’s OK. As long as she remembers, as long as we remember, Prynnie will always be with us.

Anyway, now I have 4 cats waiting for me on the other side. So I have that going for me. Which is nice. :=)