Category: Companion Animals

Fluttery

I am feeling a bit fluttery about Miss Margot’s operation today.  She has a strong heart (Persians sometimes run to heart trouble) and her pre-op screen came back okay, but I’m still unhappy, and listening to her cry for her lost dinner and breakfast is making me sad.  Wait til she comes home reeking of anaesthetic, loopy as all get out, while the boys gather round goggling at her.  They’ll be happy to have her so subdued …. And so will the rest of us, she’s about to go into heat. (Noiser, more affectionate and really anxious to go out).

Jeff has just left with Miss Margot.  There was a flaw in my cunning plan… I didn’t give him my credit card to pay for it all, so I think I will just go there at the end of the day and Jeff can drive us both home.  Continue reading Fluttery

here comes the future

yech.

Miss Margot gets fixed on Friday.  It is possible this will affect my ability to go to Pondfilk, we’ll see.  Also, I have been invited to go to Hot Springs soon, and that may be interesting in terms of timing as well. I can’t put it off any longer, she could go into heat at any time.

The vet says Miss Margot will not grow substantially bigger than she is now.  This explains a lot.  Considering that she was born Dec 9, she’s tiny… she weighs in at 2.35 kilos.  So in addition to cute, smart and phlegmatic, she was bred to be pocket sized, thus her mother’s birthing difficulties and the breeder’s insistence she be spayed.

She advised us with regular bulletins on the way to the vet, one of which was actually Meow (she said meow, how odd) ’bout how very disturbed and unhappy she was about her mode of locomotion. After we got home I left the carrier out with the jailer’s peephole open and she jumped into it for fifteen minutes.  Gizmo watched with a look of disbelief and distaste.  Both the boys are learning to deal with her, as ignoring her is simply impossible.  Gizmo curled up on me the other day, only the third time that has ever happened.  Other cats make a big production of getting into your lap; Gizmo flows into your body heat like a furry puddle and evaporates with the same skill.

Jeff is steadily advancing his chief project “The Audio visual dungeon made of awesome” and the living room is now fit to sit in.

Quit my job yesterday

June 19th is my last day.  I’m walking down the road to Jericho Beach Tuesday night and thinking “This is nuts.  How much more pondering do I have to do to know I don’t want to be doing this anymore?”  I phoned Katie and told her, and she provided consoling words.  Then I turned the corner and there was the biggest rainbow I’ve ever seen.  I’d post the pics but rainbows need a good photographer and a hefty lens, neither of which I had.  Then I enjoyed the show at Jericho (Brighter Lights Thicker Glasses, and I can’t recommend them enough) with Peggy (after playing John’s Song and That Godforsaken Hellhole I Call Home), and then came home and told myself I’d sleep on it.  And I did, and I went to my brother and said, “I’m quitting my job today,” and he said “Great!” and then I went in and told NewBoss and then everybody in the building knew and I had a stream of miserable engineers and unhappy techs come by and ask if it was true.

Why?  Because John died.  I knew, after Brian C. quit, that something very fundamental was gone and not coming back.  I knew I was not giving it my best.  And time’s winged chariot is outside my front door honking.  I have an immense list of stuff I want to do and no energy or heart to do it as long as I’m working full time.

Daughter Katie came over last night so I could help her with her job hunt.  I fed her and Jeff chicken thighs in mixed herbs and bouillon, peas, asparagus and tater tots.  Mike came over.

While they were here, Miss Margot jumped up on the keyboards that I have negligently and sloppily left in the living room, and I turned them on, and then Jeff coaxed her into walking up and down the keyboard a couple of times. Katie and I knew, and Jeff and Mike did not, that the keyboard splits and is percussion sounds on the left and piano on the right.  So we were laughing – I laughed until I was gasping for air, and we were all crying and hooting in a most unseemly manner – because she walked to one end of the keyboard sounding like she was trying to compose the climactic piano music for an artistic horror film from the sixties – and then she parked her butt on two keys and just sat there, eyeing us with something resembling resentment and puzzlement, her butt making a chord the whole while, for at least a minute, possibly longer, while Jeff tried everything to get her to walk up the keys.  Then Mike did something that got her attention, and she walked toward the other end, writing a very beautiful and unusual song as she did so, and I ran to get the camera, and all I got was her walking on some percussion and dismounting with a “Bam-dum KISH!” exactly like she was finishing off a comedy sketch.  It’s not long enough to post and the light level is very low, and I’m SCREAMING with laughter and shaking the camera.  I wish I could have gotten the whole thing, it was just about the most amazing thing I’ve seen lately. And it happened in my living room.  Katie, wiping her eyes, said that was the hardest she’d laughed in a very long time.  Miss Margot is a really remarkable animal.  I mean, a cat who eats oatmeal?

You know, if I quit my job, I could train Margot, the clown cat.  I wonder if I can get a false nose fitted for her.  No, some ideas are better left unrealized. Hey, I DID quit my job! But taking a year to train a clown cat, THAT has income possibilities.  I should set the house up for camera operation in every room.  Oh, Jeff!?  Wifi webcam throughout the house?  I know Miss Margot won’t be little and cute forever.

I need a root canal. I hope I can make it through the weekend.  The poison from the abscess is affecting my jaw and tongue.

showjumping bunnies and bad nooz

With some irritation and dread, I must announce that Jeff and I will be finding new headquarters for Geek House in 60 days, that being the notice we were given by the landpeers.  It’s been a great run, but now we must move….  We are trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next, but there’s no point looking hard for a place when nothing will be visible for another month, and although Jeff and I are still tracking a house purchase as a possible future outcome, house prices in Vancouver are still outrageously high for what you get.

And by contrast, bunnies.

My feline superior

Miss Margot and I are now in sync about keeping her washed and brushed; she’s agreed to stop pooping on herself, and I’ve agreed to use a much more pleasant and comfy brush.  As a result domestic harmony is much improved.  Now, if she would just stop using Jeff’s computer desk as a jungle gym when he’s trying to work, and then crying piteously outside his door when he casts her into the outer darkness (basically, anywhere where there are no people) life’d be pretty much rocking.

Miss Margot continues her plans for global domination

In direct contravention of the breeder’s request, I am letting her out on the back deck.  This is made easier by the fact that she comes back in when you call her. I don’t want to get her a collar but I will have to now that she is going outside.

She and Gizmo ate next to each other yesterday and touched noses. 

I’m glad I made it to work, Tanya’s sick, poor baby.  Of course when a massively pregnant woman calls in sick everybody is hopping from one foot to the next predicting imminent parturition.

Miss Margot purred and purred and purred this morning.  She is a most companionable critter.

Jeff caught her doing parkour on the livingroom furniture yesterday.

and now, an anteater in a purple sweater

because the internet says so.

Worked until just before 8 last night.  Nothing is ever simple.  But I can see my desk.  This is important, because it means my desk has been clean two work days running.

I will be blunt.  Very very blunt.  We have hired a woman who is a dead ringer for Morena Baccarin and seems to have just that bubbly kind of personality that makes engineers turn into vast blobs of goo (she’s married – which is good). She also mentioned that she’s very organized, and I believe her.  She’s going to cover Tanya’s maternity leave.  If ever there was a woman who was my polar opposite (except she does have a sense of humour, thank goodness) this new gal would be her.

I, being evil, want Tanya’s desk and that means I have to clean mine off.  See, it all makes sense. Anyway, Newgal starts on Monday so I am, after more than a thirty years of desk surfaces that look like hippos have recently left off fornicating upon them (Catherine’s original phrase was more trenchant but less family friendly, and besides, hippos can’t fornicate because they don’t have souls) I am going to try to train myself to keep it clean.  Jeff, passing in front of my room and surveying Grandad’s desk, gets a hall pass on however many snorts of amusement he wishes to emit, because there are midget high crapstacks on it.  If tidy begins at home, I gots me a problem.

Miss Margot slept on my bed last night and purred.

Big Bang Theory last night was great.

How’s that again?

Last night when I got home from work there was the same picture I’d left on the screen from the morning – it’s from a series of pictures Cousin Gerald sent me.  It’s of the underside of a dock in the wintertime. Margot walked across the computer keyboard and – I’ve not the faintest notion how – suddenly there was a picture of a person holding up a sign saying “Most of the things you worry about never happen.”  Bizarre.  Then she stood on the brightness key until my screen disappeared, which is a much less entertaining and more cat like thing to do.  Took me ages to figure out what had happened. All of these miracles would not occur if I just closed the darned thing up.

I am reading my grampa’s stories.  I am now up to the point where his family could have taken the Titanic across the ocean but left a couple of days earlier that it did.  One of his near relatives was so famous as a bookseller and antiquarian in England that a letter from America with his name, occupation and country on it – and NO other details – was delivered to him. I find it entertaining that anybody who really wanted to find me could do it in two steps on the internet, but the Post Office would be scunnered if somebody sent me a letter with my name, occupation and country on it. Mind you there was delivery twice a day in England then, and a little more enterprise among the employees.

He mentions another person from his childhood who noticed that the Greenwich Mean Time was off by two seconds one day and reported it by telegram.  He was right, and they said so.

My grampa worked in the Cadbury chocolate factory when he was a boy.

Eddie is eating and going outside again, so he has recovered somewhat from the cold Jeff gave him.  Mistress Margot is showing signs of wanting to go out.  Sigh.

Kitty (and people)

Every morning she climbs up on me and ritually sneezes in my face.  This is, according to the lad I got her from, pretty normal.

She is struggling less and less when I brush her; when she’s about as relaxed as I can expect, I’ll bathe her. Jeff has made me swear a mighty oath that I won’t do it unless he can film the entire thing.  I’m thinking we should film it AND get stills.  It’s gonna be an event.  Now kitty is stalking the power cord for the MacBook.  Now she’s chasing Gizmo off his food dish…. bad plan.

To be able to wake up at 2 am, with her just out of my sleepthrashing range on the bed, instantly purring when I reach out to touch her ludicrously soft fur, is the most beautiful thing in my life right now.  I know I kinda ‘bought a friend’ but there was no guarantee she would even like me, and but she’s showing every sign of liking me a lot, rushing up to me when I come home from work.  She likes Jeff fine, but I’m the one who cleans her and brushes her, so she knows who mom is.

She’s got the boys completely whipped, and it hasn’t even been two weeks.

When Katie was here for dinner two Sundays ago Margot jumped onto the blue exercise ball in the living room.  Jeff reports that she has now jumped onto the ball and stood on it for a second and then jumped off.  I wish I had somebody who could circus train her, she’s got native talent.  The man who runs the cat circus (and while looking for him I found the Charles Mingus Cat Toilet Training Program, apparently written by the bassist himself) says that by watching a cat carefully you can tell if they have a certain bent and then you very slowly and patiently shape the behaviour until they are pushing strollers full of other cats, walking on high wires, walking on their front paws, and doing complicated dance routines with other cats, among the many other bizarre things he’s trained cats to do.

Hm.  Well, I’ve been remiss in reporting the social news.  Dr. Filk paid us a flying visit on Friday, and mightily glad was I to see him, and he found la belle Margot entertaining.

Paul and the kids were by for Sunday dinner and we watched Jurassic Park.  Paul brought the best pork roast, and we had onions and carrots and taters and corn, so it was a real Sunday dinner.

No date with my new friend this past weekend, I’ve been feeling a bit off colour and my foot is still hurting like a b9st9rd so anything involving more than about ten blocks of walking finishes me off.  Yes, I should see a doctor, but for what?  To get told it’s sprained ligaments and I should get orthotics?  I am so tired of going to the doctor and finding out I’m a jeezly hypochondriac.  Given that I’m fifty I’m sure I’ll get bad news eventually but every health scare I’ve had except for my back – which is the same as always, thanks – has turned out to be figmentary.  Actually, I took Robaxicet last night and I had an AWESOME night’s sleep.

Just fixed poached eggs and toast for brekkie, and I am now contemplating a second cup of coffee.  Oh Margot, quit chewing on the cable…..  If you get electrocuted, nobody will be able to tell.

The landpeers have rearranged the way they park their vehicles so I can use the walkway.  Jeff and I are responding by ensuring they have the rent cheques in hand in about fifteen minutes.  It’s actually kinda handy having the landpeers that close.

I handed out biscotti at work yesterday.  Man, I love doing that.

I wish I could blog about work.  But continued employment beckons encouragingly, so I will defer to my more sensible, grownup, beaten down by capitalizm self, and keep my icecream siphon closed.

Speaking of ice cream.  I brought some home last night.  Then I said to Jeff, “Screw this noise… Dessert, it’s what’s for supper.”  Thus my atonement with a nourishing and sensible brekkie today.