Saturday, March 17, 2007
And life goes on
[Censored]
I fully expect to get villified all over again for calling it as I see it and not taking sides unconditionally (even when that act would call for me to abandon my principles in the interest of blind-faith solidarity), but I’ve always called a spade a spade and I’m too old to be a hypocrite now. So [deleted] we’re scrambling to catch up with a house that looks like a tornado hit, and way overdue business tasks. At least it keeps our minds occupied.
Friday, March 09, 2007
So small a gesture, so large an impact
Was at a meeting last night, and my rabbi handed me a baggie with some Purim goodies - a belated treat bag - this year, I barely noticed that the holiday had come and gone. I burst into tears at the unexpected kind gesture.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Communicating with cats
We have a cat named Sam. It’s a long story, but basically Sam is a Persian rescue cat with a snaggle tooth. He is very smart, quite talkative, and more than a little neurotic. When he started having less than pristine litter-box habits, I started to worry. But his “accidents” were irregular and erratic. We tried cleaning the litter more often and watching for all sorts of other signs, but no luck. Eventually, I reached my limit, and said, “We’ve got to call in Lydia Hiby.” I’d heard about Lydia on a radio show a number of years ago, and we’d used her to communicate with a previous cat who had some issues. She was so successful in her diagnostics that we thought we’d try her again.
To make a long story short, in the new place, we’d put Sam’s litter box in the laundry room, and Sam was so freaked out by the vibrations of the washer and dryer that whenever we did laundry, he couldn’t bring himself to go into the room. And when we were away and my son would come over, he would do marathon stints of laundry, so the cat would sneak into the den and pee there. When I finally went into that room to unpack, and found little puddles, I started keeping the door closed. Then, he’d go on the bath mat, but one day I caught him doing it outside the closed door of the den and when I yelled at him, he disappeared under the bed and didn’t come out for the better part of the day. After the consultation, we moved the litter box, and Sam hasn’t had an accident since. Unfortunately, the only other place we could fit a litter box was just inside the front door - not a very nice welcome - but I suspect we’ll have some custom cabinet built that can hide a litter box beneath it it, and everyone will be happy.
The odd thing is that at the end of the 15-minute consultation, during which time we discussed all sorts of things (Lydia used to be a vet tech, so she can discuss health issues as well as psycho-social issues), I asked if there was anything else that Sam would like us to know. She said that Sam asked to have a bandana. I have no idea how he knows about such things, but we did get him a little cat bandana, and from the time we put it on him he has liked it. Now, I was prepared for her to relay answers to the questions about whether Sam was lonely (no, he loves being the only cat), why he doesn’t like to sit on our laps (he has some arthritis in his feet, and doesn’t like to have to jump up quickly, so prefers to sit beside us), why he is so fussy with his cat food (as a kitten, he was given baby food because he was so little and sickly), and did he mind when we went out of town and left him alone (no, but could we leave a t-shirt on the bed for him). But a bandana? Go figure. But I did notice that since the session, Sam and I seem to be getting along a little better. Or maybe it’s just my imagination.