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Cats of the Farm: The Pride Goes On

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    Original Poster


    As I was having my mow, I accidentally turned the cats' yard water dish over. I was moving it over with my foot to mow the area around it, and it caught and upended. I growled and made a mental note to refill it when I finished my daily mow time in another fifteen minutes. Note that the cats do have two other water dishes on the place. This could wait 15 minutes, even on a moderately warm day.

    I noticed a few laps later that Cotton had come over to the dish and was sniffing it. He then, as I watched, turned it back over, climbed in, and sat upright in it. He stayed sitting there, looking straight at me, until I finished my mow and got a freshly filled container of water and brought it over. Then he stepped aside. When I filled it, he lay down next to the dish. Didn't take a drink; he wasn't thirsty. He was just calling the State of Affairs to my attention.

    Protesting, cat style. Nonviolent, highly effective.

    A few pictures. This one I took to be an illustration for the cat book I'm working on. Every morning, when I come out on the porch, Cotton jumps up on the rail and waits for me to greet him privately and last. He isn't afraid of the other cats; he's down with them up until I come out. He just wants a private greeting, and he counts it worth it that he is delayed on the first installment of breakfast in order to get that private greeting.

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    Here's Atticus coveting my turkey burgers I was fixing for lunch.

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    Pilgrim and Solo

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    Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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      Original Poster

      For Cotton fans, here's a little video showing both his predilection for trees and his amiable and talkative personality. I was leaving the farm, walking toward the car, and noticed him asleep in a tree.

      https://www.facebook.com/deborah.hal...eric&ref=notif
      Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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        Awwwwww!!
        Mean Girls grow up to be Mean Women

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          Original Poster

          Quite a week on the farm-o-cats so far. This weekend, my HVAC system decided to emulate Calvin Coolidge and choose not to run. I couldn't believe it. Remember, the new house is only two years old. That system couldn't have any real problems yet, I thought. Anyway, I waited out the weekend to get to regular day rates, then called a service company yesterday. Very thorough tech went all over it and said that I had a bad contactor which was shorting out. Quite possibly this is related to an episode last week where the power for this whole neck of the woods was out for 45 minutes, long enough that I called the outage line, and they had a message that said they were working on it. Something major went wrong on the grid, not just a little blip. The HVAC guy said that could have killed the contactor. At least it wasn't a major problem, little part, and he had one on the truck.

          But Pilgrim cracked me up. He's my tuxedo scientist, always into analyzing his world. He thought it was absolutely fascinating when part of the wall got unscrewed, and he was an interested supervisor for this whole repair job.

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          So much for Monday. Today, Tuesday, was brought to us by Cory. The last several days, I have found clouds of Cory tufts here and there around the farm, as if she had a fight with herself. No other-colored tufts, so not a two-way fight, and she was the only candidate in that color. She seemed fine, appetite good, acting like herself, but something wasn't right, so I called the vet last week. They were booked up to overflowing but said I could bring her to drop-off this morning. So she got rounded up and went to the clinic to stay the day. It turns out, as I figured, she had gotten into something, who knows what, that she was allergic to. They gave her Depo-Medrol and Convenia shots. She had chewed into herself a bit too far at one spot, and vet didn't like the look of it so added the antibiotics. They want to see her again next week for recheck and to top her off again with another round of shots. At least I got an appointment for that, so I only have to make one trip, not a drop off and return.

          Here's Cory this evening after I brought her home. Note my nursing home friend's happy rose, by the way. I had just asked Cory if she had had a tough day, and she replied politely and walked over to me. Animals could give us lessons on trust. Today, I have grabbed her, stuffed her in a carrier, driven her away from home, and left her in the clinic all day. But she still will come to me.

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          Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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            Original Poster

            My older mare has had some tooth issues lately, so she's been getting soaked meals. This morning, she had finished, and I put her back in with her (gelded) boyfriend, then turned around to pick up the dish and saw three of the cats investigating it. They were like the woman on that old commercial. "Where's the beef?"

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            And here's Rascal posing next to the rose, Bagheera in the porch chair. The cats love that porch chair, and it's almost always occupied. I'm tempted to buy another one for me, but I know what would happen if I did.

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            Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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              Original Poster

              My porch. I think I have a theme going here.

              From closest on out, this is Sarge, Bagheera, Cory, Rascal, and Satin.

              The carrier doesn't always live here, but Cory cat has to go back to the vet on Tuesday. Better to leave it out in between than to bring it back out that morning and set off her radar in advance before I get close enough to grab.

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              And this was the view when I was working earlier today and happened to glance down at the small crack between the desk and the printer cart. Reminds me of the song, "I always feel like somebody's watching me." Usually I'm right, too.

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              Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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                LOL! I love the eye. Just looking at you. "I see you. Yeah, you. And don't you forget it."
                "Cats aren't clean; they're covered with cat spit."
                - John S Nichols (1745-1846,writer/printer)

                Don't come for me - I didn't send for you.

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                  Original Poster

                  Originally posted by shiloh View Post
                  LOL! I love the eye. Just looking at you. "I see you. Yeah, you. And don't you forget it."
                  Exactly. The eye goes with Solo. She has plenty of tortitude! She's one of my few intentional cats, where I acquired a cat with first-degree pet premeditation. She's from a local TNR, and they thought she was young enough to be civilized when she was trapped, so they listed her on their website instead of releasing her back. I was looking something up on the website for a client, and her picture struck me. I thought about it a day or two, then called. I didn't know then why that particular cat grabbed me so much, but I do now. She reminds me of Mom. She's fiesty, sweet but not entirely safe or predictable, and she's proud of it.
                  Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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                    Original Poster

                    Funny cat moments from the day.

                    Today, I had visitors. This is unusual out here in the middle of nowhere, and the cats aren't used to visitors. But my dad and stepmom came for my birthday. They brought a chicken dinner, and we were all around the table. The birthday card they gave me had one of those decorative cords along the edge of it with a nice bow, very pretty. In other words, a string. Pilgrim was up on the table since he was finally being allowed to have a few bites of chicken (refer to the Second Feline Commandment. Food in my possession is mine, period, amen, and they don't get even a crumb until I am done. They know this. Pilgrim was the only cat not in hiding, and he was very interested in the chicken, but he waited until invited to move all the way in to get a nibble. I may allow them on the table, but I refuse to eat under attack; they must be mannerly and wait). So he was on the table and had finished the tidbit of chicken we gave him, and then he spotted that card with the STRING!!!!! Fastest paw in the house, he is. He and I got into a tug-of-war over that birthday card while Dad was protesting across the table. It had not occurred to me that that card actually in effect had a STRING!!!!! It sure occurred to Pilgrim.

                    Then we went outside, and Dad wanted a tour of the baby landscaping. This took several minutes; it's a decent walk around, even just the yard part, and he isn't that fast of a walker anymore. So we were out there quite a while. Ended the tour, and Dad started to talk about leaving. Stepmom wanted to make a pit stop first, so she went back into the house alone while Dad and I stayed in the yard and talked. She came out a few minutes later laughing. Apparently, we had been outside long enough that all the housecats came back out of hiding, thinking that the invasion of strange people was over. They were right out there in the open, arranged around the living room, and she walked in alone. They looked up casually, obviously expecting me, and then went into red alert, froze, and scampered. She said, "I have been informed that I am definitely not Mom."

                    Good visit. I'm glad we did this. Dad is definitely not what he was pre cancer, even on a good day. This trip was his idea, and I'm not sure how many more years of opportunity he will have. Come what may, many years or the last one, we're okay with it, but it is a sobering thought to see your parent looking fragile.
                    Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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                      Original Poster

                      Chicken leftovers for breakfast. They know the rules. They may watch, salivate, covet, whatever, but they may not make a bombing run on the plate. I don't mind cats on the table if they just sit quietly and lust. Which Solo is doing, but look at the eyes. She is parked right at the limit of my tolerance, and they all know that distance to the inch, too.

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                      Now available in Kindle as well as print: C-Sharp Minor: My Mother's Seventeen-Year Journey through Dementia. 10% of my proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Association.

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                        Happy birthday! Glad it was a lovely visit! My kitty is also like that with strangers though she’s getting better about coming out to visit for awhile.

                        P.
                        A Wandering Albertan - NEW Africa travel blog!

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