Da Goddess

My day started off wrangling cats, giving them fresh food and water, then struggling to hold Celia and get her 1 cc of antibiotic down her throat. Fletch was a bit easier, but only just barely. He tried gagging and acted as if he were about to throw up the whole dose. Afterward, Fletch forgave me almost immediately, as he is wont to do. Celia, however, tried to make herself invisible and if I did see her? Well, the evil eye only partially covers the look she gave me.

Then I had to race in for a shower. I had a doctor’s appointment in the afternoon and there were other things to do before we left. Fletch came into the shower to play a little bit before I finally kicked him out because it was all business today and no play. I finished up and called for King Arthur as it was his turn. I’m wandering around, gathering all the things to get dressed and the phone rings. It’s a couple hours before the appointment and I’m surprised to hear it’s the doc’s office. My original appointment was on Tuesday, which they rescheduled at the last minute (thank God! I was wiped out). This call was all about “do you think you can get an MRI and some x-rays done before your appointment today?” I ask first if they’ve been approved by the insurance company. I’m on hold forever and then am told they have been. I then let the gal know where I live and how long it normally takes me to get to the office, “a stop for the scans will mean I won’t be on time for my appointment.” I’m told not to worry; that the doctor will wait. I’m thinking maybe someone was supposed to send me on Tuesday for the scans and forgot.

Scramble, scramble, scramble. KA looks up the address of the imaging center and we set off. It takes us roughly 30 minutes to get there. I’m in. It takes me about 20 minutes to fill out paperwork and change and be led into the MRI room. As they’re setting up, I’m on the table, I’m off the table, I’m back on the table, oh wait a minute, we have to do this a different way, etc. Finally, the first scan is 20 minutes long. Set up for the second scan is about 10 minutes and the scan itself is 25 minutes long. No worries. Oh, wait. X-rays! Guy’s not ready for me yet. Then it’s rush, rush, rush, turn this way, turn that way, hold still, turn this way, hold, turn again, hold, turn and…oh, wait. We need to get the next tray. Hang on. Turn, hold, turn, hold, turn, hold, bend this way, hold, turn, hold, bend that way, hold, turn, hold, lean back, hold, turn, hold, open your mouth as far as you can, hold, okay, you’re done. Yay!

By this time, the doc’s office has called the imaging clinic and rescheduled my appointment AGAIN. Fine. I’m in pain at this point and really didn’t want to be in and out of the van and be examined with the push here, pull there, stand up, sit down, twist and shout, do the watusi, now buh-bye, see you in another six weeks. Instead, I simply call the office, confirm the reschedule (for next week), and off King Arthur and I go to the Ship for supper. I order a Scottish Bridie for my meal. He gets meatloaf. Both are delicious. And both of us end up with leftovers.

We have one stop officially left on our list. We have to go to the one store where my blouse has finally come in. KA bought me a pretty blouse that ended up being too big. So instead of us shipping it back, we took it in to the store and did a bit more shopping, blah blah blah. Anyhow, the blouse was in and we were in that part of town, so in we went. He found me a cool t-shirt that hadn’t been there last week or ten days ago or something. We hasten out of there (because to stay longer would only mean spending more money and we just don’t need to do that). I ask for only one more thing before we head home: dessert. Krispy Kreme. We hit the drive-thru and then head for home.

At this point, we’ve been out of the house for almost 5 1/2 hours. And just as we get about 2 or 3 miles from home, the rain starts. Perfect timing! Our crazy day would have been impossible if the rain had come sooner.

Once home, we both get into comfy clothes and sink into our chairs. I pop a couple Tylenol and pray they do the trick until it’s time for my vicodin. They do well enough and it’s relatively quiet until it’s time to do meds again. (These, by the way, are pre-op meds for the cats who will be going in for their teeth on Friday.) Fletch is a snap. I pick him up, put the syringe in front of his face, he opened his mouth, and bing bang boom it was done. He got his treats and I went back to my chair. I pointed to the towel I had out for Celia, noted the meds were ready to go, and told King Arthur he was on his own. He wasn’t. I got the meds in her mouth, but he held her this time! (I have a rather deeeeeeep scratch on the outer part of my palm from her the night before.)

And here I am. It’s almost 03:00 and I’m just catching up on e-mail, blogging, a couple tv shows, and am slowly but steadily making my way to bed. I’m beat. The cats are beat. King Arthur is beat (he’s been in bed for a few hours already as he’s able to fall asleep quickly, whereas I am not so much).

Again, my glamorous life. Don’t you wish your life was just as cool?

Thank God it didn’t come to thatl No deaths that we know of thus far and I’m praying there will NOT be another quake that leaves me feeling this unsettled. For a long, long time to come.

Okay, I was more than unsettled. I was scared. Even after it stopped my heart continued to race and it’s been over for several hours now. The aftershocks don’t seem to bother me all that much. I just don’t like earthquakes.

This one was scary because you could tell it was close. Those are the worst. And any that shake and roll at the same time make it seem longer and you’re much less steady. This is the kind we had.

We’ve had endless sirens all night. Helicopters flying about, circling the big water main break.

All manner of odd noises are going on late into the night, which, of course, up the ante on the tension. Continuing aftershocks don’t help either.

Oh, and during the big 5.1 (or 5.3, depending on your source) magnitude, our front door flew open and wouldn’t stay closed. The cats freaked out, which meant I panicked and believed that Celia exited through the front door when I spotted it open 5 minutes later. Nope, she hid behind some artwork stacked in front of the bookcase. It took us an hour to find her. WHEW! I can handle the stuff that fell and broke, I can handle all sorts of things. But not a lost and frightened cat. I was near tears the whole time.

We were lucky in that our damage was cheap stuff that I’m comfortable with never replacing.

Mark my words though: if Celia had escaped, she’d be hard to find and unlikely to ever be turned in if someone caught her. And I would never be able to stop crying. But she was found and now all is right with the world and I am still too shook up to try sleepingl

And for those of you of the Visuals Appreciation Society, here’s a little visual aid.

You can see where that orange arrow indicates the epicenter (La Habra) and the varying shades of pink indicating Fullerton, which is where I reside. The blue arrows indicate major freeways or areas of importance (like Disneyland or Knotts Berry Farm or other freeways). To say this quake hit a little too close to home for my liking would bearly scratch the surface of how I feel. Still, as scary as earthquakes are, I prefer them to tornadoes, from which no one is truly safe. Experienced enough of those in my lifetime to know they’re near the tippy top of my Scaredy Cat list.

Anyhow, to make a long story just a wee bit longer, as the quake hit, Music Choice was playing “Shake Rattle & Roll”. God has a wicked sense of humor sometimes.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Fletch is feeling so much better! He’s still a little congested, but he’s back to chasing me down the hall after I come out of the shower. He’s back to playing in the shower. And finally, he’s back to chasing his feather.

I guess we can’t really call it much of a feather as it’s only an inch of feather that’s still attached to the dowel. But he loves it even more this way, I think. King Arthur and I go cat fishing with it. Fletch, for his part, usually goes crazy for it. The other day, it was just a couple minutes of trying to stop it as it went by. Now, he’s back to actively chasing it. Running after it. Trying to anticipate where it’ll be next. Leaping for it. Catching it, rolling around with it, and then carrying his catch with pride, parading around the house with his sweet little strut, head held high. Sweetly, he brought it back to KA while playing. Showing off his catch? Bringing it as tribute? Who knows? It’s just damn cute.

Celia has been mostly crawling into my lap, looking for love. I got three little love nips from her today; something she hasn’t done in ages. They’re very gentle, but pointedly firm in telling me she wants MORE LOVES. She gets ’em, too. Her congestion is still there. Kind of juicy and loose, which is good. We’re taking a wait and see attitude on this one since she’s not overly lethargic like her brubby was. She had one day that was slow and that was it. Fingers crossed that she spontaneously heals once she’s been loved up enough. Yes, part of me thinks she “got sick” just to horn in on the attention Fletch was getting. Why not? It’s what kids do!

Tomorrow turns a little into playtime for us for a change. We’re heading down to SD to get some furniture at my sister’s. It’s my mom’s dresser and vanity/bench that once belonged to her parents. It matches absolutely nothing else in this house, but it’s family and it’s important to me. KA tried to find me something that matched what he has and I had to tell him I didn’t want anything else. I want something that holds meaning. He understood.

After we get done there, we’ll stop by and see my mom. Tried to get my dad to come to lunch with us, but he says he may be busy. Oh, well. Next month.

Had more time on the phone today with attorney and claims adjustor and pharmacist and doctor’s office as we attempt ONCE AGAIN to get my meds approved. You’d think this would be old hat by now and I wouldn’t have to fight it every month. No such luck. Tomorrow is my day off and away from all the crap. I’m just going to enjoy the drive with my honey, visit my family, and come home very tired to cats who will have missed us and WANT TO BE FED! They always want to be fed.

My life is so glamorous! I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Now Celia’s getting sick.

It was only a matter of time what with the cats sharing water and Celia being sweet(ish) to Fletch. Yes, the Diva has been rather kind to Fletch. Giving him an occasional nuzzle and, mostly, not hissing at him.

She’s sneezed a few times. She’s lethargic while also being extra squirmy during ear cleaning.

She was fine last night. With her new habit of sleeping on top of my chair, she has a tendency to slip down and, essentially, sleep on my head. Today? She’s curled up on the cat tree in a position I’ve never seen her take before.

I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be vet day. Another unhappy cat with another thermometer up the bum. Another shot. And pretty much everyone tiptoeing around. Ugh.

As for Fletch, he’s still pretty congested, but he’s showing more signs of life, which makes me less worried. Still worried, just not hovering over him worried.

This reminds me of when the kids were little. Mojo especially. She had so many ear and upper respiratory infections, I about lost it. She could go from happy, playful kiddo to eyes and nose with green goo in two minutes. And then there was the surgery to have tubes placed in her ears. Oy! That was a harrowing day! But she always got better and she was always a trooper. With the cats, it seems to take so much longer and you can’t do for them what you do for kids.

So here we go again. I have to keep hoping and praying the furry little sweeties get better soon. This is nerve-wracking and I don’t have enough nerves to spare.

Er, sick kitty.

Fletch is sick. He has an upper respiratory infection of some sort. He’s been sneezing all night, coughing occasionally, and he’s taken to breathing through his mouth. He curled up next to me on the couch, head on my pillow, and tried his best to sleep, but every so often (more often than any of us would like) he’d have a small gag and swallow and then practically pant to catch his breath. I know that move all too well: post-nasal drip. Add to that, his eyes are watering like crazy from all the sneezing.

So, it’s off to the vet for us in a few. I’m feeling so horrible about it all, I’m holding off on ear drops for a bit.

(And further proof he doesn’t feel well, he’s voluntarily entering the Diva Zone to sit with me. Celia is not happy.)

Celia has taken to sitting in the window or at the door, growling. She’s protecting us from the evil that lurks outside. You know: stray cats and opossums. Maybe even the odd person walking by. It’s really pretty cute. She takes her work quite seriously. However, it does come with its downside. The window next to my chair is currently open a bit and that is a beacon to her. She sits on the arm of the chair, long furry tail in my face or on the computer keyboard, balancing precariously on the window ledge. That’s where my pen and notebook, my water bottle, cell phone, earrings, hair accessories, and other things reside. I have everything in reach. But she knocks it down while she’s up there. And the tail in my face tickles. So, I keep trying to redirect her attentions elsewhere. It takes nothing short of ten lift and relocations to get her to let up. (She really is very dedicated to her job.)

I’ve also closed the other window she guards enough so that she still gets fresh air but can’t get too feisty and push the screen out. I opened two other windows on that same side of the house the same little amount so that we still benefit from the breeze (which we need as it’s been rather warm [we actually had THE hottest temp in the country on Sunday]).

Right now, Celia is perched, again precariously, on the tiny bit of space in front of the TV. Fletch has done this a few times, but never Celia. Apparently she likes General Hospital. Or maybe it’s just part of her night-time “crazies”. (I don’t know what else to call them. She only gets into things and gets goofy late at night.)

Fletch, my little darling, he is snoozing on the sofa. Resting his head on what has become his pillow. But, of course, he’s sensed that I’m blogging about him and moved closer to where I am. He does this. He always knows when I’m writing about him. My smart little furball.

About a week ago, our friends came over with their 11-month-old daughter. We didn’t know how things would go with her and the cats, but there was only one way to find out. So, we introduced her to Fletch and let her pet him. We also had her pet Celia once she came out of hiding (she pretty much walked away after and ignored us the rest of the night). But Fletch! Savannah crawled around in the kitchen and Fletch would play peekaboo with her. She would crawl after him for a bit and then get tired and stop. Then he’d come crawling after her for a bit. They’d peek around the corners at each other. They kept their eyes on each other. And they both seemed to have a really fun time of it. It was not only cute, it was quite sweet. Oh, and when Savannah saw the catfood on the floor by their bowls (we collectively held our breath), she would pick it up and put it back in the bowl, looking up at us with a big ol’ grin, as if to say, “I’m a good helper, aren’t I?”

We took the cats to the vet last week. What a fucking adventure that was! It was stressful getting them into their carriers. On them and on us. I walked out of the house looking as though I was part cat myself; covered head to toe in copious amounts of cat fur, I even coughed up a hairball.

At the vet’s, we found out that Fletch is weighing in at about 13 pounds. Lovely Celia is a mere 6 pounds. Frankly, I was surprised she weighed that much! She’s really very light. Picking her up is like cradling a bubble in your hands.

Celia freaked out and hid under the sink in the office. There was just enough room for her climb through the opening above the cabinet door. Fletch later tried the same thing but failed, 1) because he’s too damn big to get through the same opening, and 2) because he’s not exactly adept at gracefully scaling certain surfaces. To that end, he also managed to bring down the cat tree at home as he was attempting to scale it. He got up to the top by digging his claws into the rope-covered posts once before, but on his second attempt, he went slower and the entire thing just fell over on him. Why he couldn’t climb up from the couch, I don’t know. He just had to do it his way. (He goes up to the top from the couch now, though.)

Back to the vet story.

The vet fell in love with Fletch. I even heard her saying (through a closed door) “if they don’t want that little orange tabby, I’ll take him. He’s just such a sweet boy!” No way, Doc. You’re really nice and all, but he’s OUR sweet boy! We love him way too much to ever want to be without him. Surprisingly, Celia, who normally goes through stress-induced whacko scratching with people she doesn’t know, was sweet as hell whenever anyone picked her up. She was even very good during her blood draw and pet-i-cure and teeth exam, stool sample, temperature taking, etc. However, by the time she got back into the room, she was quite shaken. She sat on the floor, making herself as small as possible, and trembled. (Fletch had already been through it all and was back to his curious and somewhat uber-chill self.) I picked her up and cuddled and calmed her as much as I could. Finally, seeing Fletch stretched out on the floor — in the corner under the exam table, but still…being chill — I said, “Celia, why don’t you go lay down with your brother? You two can comfort each other.” Honest to God, she walked over to him and laid down with him! It was almost as cute as the two cats out in the adoption center who were curled up together, the one with his paws around the other’s neck. Almost that cute. Surprising as hell, because she tends to keep her distance from Fletch, except when we’re not paying attention and then they sleep together.

After all was said and done, cats went back into their carriers (much easier at that point because they were just wiped out!), vaccinated, examed stem to stern, swabbed, probed, and pet-i-cured and we began the check out process. It took ages, but we finally got out of there, arms loaded with cats, food, treats, five containers of medication, instructions, and a stack of paperwork from the visit.

Both cats have to go back to have their ears rechecked after we finish two weeks of ear drops and flushes. Their ears were infected and filthy like you wouldn’t believe! Twice a day we piss them off by swabbing the upper outer ear and then deposit three drops per ear per cat. If we don’t spell out (literally) what we’re going to do, Celia runs and hides, making it quite the chase and crazy ordeal to get her over to the meds. Fletch, well, we just walk up to him and scoop him up. Sometimes I can do it all by myself. Other times, it’s a two-person operation. Afterwards, they both look at us with murder in their eyes. Or at least, on Fletch’s part, great derision. He gets over it very quickly, though. She holds a grudge. In the morning, she will go lie under the rocking chair for a few hours, glaring at us in between naps. Otherwise, they’ve been fairly cooperative and fun to have around.

Celia’s post-vet behavior change has made her seek more loves from us and she is almost always on the chair with me (when she isn’t at the window or door protecting us from the world). Fletch has become even bolder in just about every other way. He always did like to check out the shower when I was getting in, but he now has actually allowed me to gently run water down his back and tail. Before long, I imagine him simply taking a full shower with me.

They’re weird cats, but they’re OUR weird cats. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

That’s the new word for what the cats do as they run up and down the hallway.

We opened up the bedroom door to them finally. When we first got them, Celia tended to hide up under the bed, so we got her out of there and closed the door. The only way to get the cats acclimated to the house was to get them out into the house. But, now, now they’re allowed back in as they’ve pretty much taken over everything anyway.

With the bedroom door opened, it’s as if they suddenly have way more room to run. They galumph up and down the hallway like it’s their runway and they’re trying to take off. Two little kitties. Lots of galumphing noise. Most of the time they stop at the bedroom, turn around, and run back toward us. Sometimes, though, they run straight through to the bedroom. When they get into the bedroom, they are both always ALWAYS surprised by the cat in the mirror and get that silly puffed up bounce that cats get. It’s hysterical. Kind of like this cat at the very beginning:

And yes, both Fletch and Celia eventually make friends with the mirror cat, but they forget every single time and get scared as they race into the room.

Needless to say, we spend a lot of time laughing over their antics. It’s pretty frickin’ adorable.

I like Ellen, so it’s not that I objected to her hosting the Oscars. It’s totally not that. And, granted, the bar was so low after last year’s show, she surpassed Seth MacFarlane’s lame ass attempt. Still, the jokes weren’t funny. The pizza stunt was a time waster (which meant even though we added a half hour to the record time, we still missed the end). And when WHEN will the idea that a host needs to live tweet during the show go away? Make it happen now, please.

In between waiting for an actual award to be handed out, King Arthur and I amused ourselves with the antics of the cats. Now, THEY were entertaining!

Fletch is, despite his size, an innocent and a gentle giant. He’s simply the sweetest little lovebug alive. When he plays, he does so with wide eyes and energetic abandon. His favorite thing is the feather, although the laser pointer is a close second. Or maybe those two alternate. The laser pointer makes him gallop like a horse all around the house. His curiosity will lead him to chase the light as it disappears between a wall and a cooler and wait for it to reappear. If you start leading him around one side of the sofa with it and he follows part of the way, he will know it’s going to be on the other side and change direction, just to beat you to it. He did that with me while we were playing follow-the-leader around the kitchen one day. With the feather, you can get him to scale furniture, leap into the air, and when he finally gets hold of it, he chomps down on it firmly and trots away with it in his mouth, proud as can be with his catch. It’s terribly endearing.

Celia, the lone diva princess, prefers to play alone in the den while we’re not paying attention, except when it comes to the laser pointer. Then she alternates between drive-by swipes and full-on chase scenes. Don’t get me wrong, she’ll run and play and get goofy, but she’s a bit more reserved about it and it takes more patience to get her out of her shell and really let go. As for her cuddle time, she initiates it and it is aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallll about her. When she finally submits to the full petting treatment, she will literally fall all over herself and you and meow for more. If you’re not petting the right spot, she’ll give you a very gentle nip and kind of pull your hand to where she wants you to pet her. Then she’ll fall asleep in your lap and not move for hours.

I love these furry little beings so very much. I love them both but I have to admit I have moments where I love one slightly more than the other and then change my mind fifteen minutes later. It all depends on who’s looking at me from those sweet faces: Celia’s gorgeous green eyes; Fletch’s big, innocent eyes. They’re both totally enchanting and you can’t help but get caught up in their spell.

We have a lot of work to do, still, with getting them settled in. They’re almost there. Just fine tuning things at this point. Teaching them how to play nicely TOGETHER (Celia swipes at him, hisses, and then curls up with him later to sleep), teaching them how to use an automatic feeder (for when we’re gone overnight), teaching them how to not scatter their food EVERYWHERE! (hahahahahaha, as if that’ll ever happen), and training them to sit quietly in our laps while we trim their claws. Yeah, that’ll be the big one. Until we get that under control, there’ll be lots of yowling and scratching and hissing, and the cats won’t be happy about it either.

So, yeah. We watched the Oscars and we more entertained by our cats. That was the whole point of this post. Well, that and just general cat blogging.

What else is going on? I miss LD. His visit here was too short and this week has felt empty without him. He’s a damn good kid. We babysat King Arthur’s granddaughter Saturday night. She’s 5 months old now and is all smiles, full of curiosity, and is fabulously cute as a button. Basically, babysitting is an absolute joy with this little girl. Lady M and Lord R have done a great job getting her on a schedule and keeping her healthy and happy. It’s wonderful to see good parenting in progress.

Now it’s time for me to get back to throwing a ball or dangling a feather for my two young charges. They seem to be in need of a good romp before bed.

And so this morning, we woke to two cats who were up and out and about. Acting like normal cats. Or rather, acting like normal cats for us.

Celia is now part of the household. Amazing how much has changed in a day or so. Suddenly, she’s interacting with us, playing, and eating. We found the secret “call”: a “ssswwssspppss” sound. It makes her run over to us and beg for scritches on her head.

Last night I went into the kitchen to fix myself something to eat and they both followed me in there, meowing and begging as if they hadn’t just been fed. It was really cute.

Oh! Fletch found his meow! He’d followed King Arthur into the bathroom and then managed to get himself closed in after. We heard two very distinct meows — one, definitely Celia’s. We tiptoed over to the hallway, thinking they were playing, and saw only Celia. She stopped meowing once she saw us, but then we heard the other meow coming from the bathroom. I opened the door and he looked up at me as if to say, “didn’t you notice I was gone? I was LOST! LOST, I SAY!” Then he strolled out like nothing had happened. It was adorable.

They won’t curl up in a ball together when we’re around, but that’s now how they sleep at night. I don’t think Celia wants us to know she’s sweet and sensitive when it comes to Fletch. But the cat is out of the bag (pun intended).

We’re just super happy to see how nicely they’ve both settled in. King Arthur was getting stressed by Celia’s timidity. I was willing to give her more time to acclimate; not so much for KA. It’s all worked out in the end. I think she overheard him voicing his concerns and decided it was better to hang with us than go back to the shelter. Whatever the reason, that’s not necessary. Both cats are now happy campers and so are we.

Fletch has turned into the biggest lovebug in the universe! He’s also very silly and playful and just so patient and sweet.

Celia is having a rougher time getting comfortable in the house, but she’s making progress. Last night she came out to get all sorts of petting. And she used the litterbox, proving that’s she eaten, even if we haven’t been able to see her actually ingesting the food. She stayed out for a fairly long while and she’s been out again this morning. Baby steps.

Last night, before bed, I did one last check on the cats and they were actually curled up together. They gave me the whole, “whaaaaaaaaaat? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO AWAY! You’re not supposed to see this!” look. It was hysterical.

Of course, this morning, Celia just had to hiss at Fletch because IWASPETTINGHERANDHECAMEBYWANTINGATTENTIONTOO.

In other news, Fletch’s tail seems to be the best. thing. ever. once he’s had a little catnip.

I promise I won’t be a total cat blogger. Much. I’m just excited to have these sweeties in our lives.

And here we have the happy gang. Well, the cats are still getting accustomed to the place, but they’ll get there. Fletch is the chillest of the two. Celia is the diva. And LD is, as always, my favorite son. Sadly, he departs in the morning. We’ll have the cats to keep us busy until he returns.