Daytime Privileges

For the last week, I have opened up the house to Webster. I sensed his frustration as he tried to engage in play with the house kitties. It seems no one wants to play with him. His recourse is to get a bit aggressive with each one of them to see what happens.

What happens is a lot of racing through the house, a lot of growling intention. Gibby is the most aggressive with him. But he’s even managed to get Aspen, who is pretty mild mannered, especially towards new kittens, to not like him either.

I suppose I could tuck him away safely in the bedroom, but I do want him to engage with other kittens. He’s three months old now; he should’ve had that socialization before now, and it’s apparent he hasn’t. He really doesn’t know what to do with other cats. If he’s ever going to be adopted, he has to learn to get along with others. I think the sweetest thing he does is that he’ll lay on the end of Kota’s couch on his side on the floor. Using his claws, he’ll slide along the edge of the couch. He reaches the other side and he’ll repeat it. He just has all this kitty energy and he can’t find anyone who wants to play with him to help him expel it so he finds his own ways. He’s cute, he’s a bit frantic, he’s a bit aggressive. He’s a kitten, after all; one that has obviously been deprived of a mother. If she were here, she would be quick to correct him. So that falls on me. So far an empty pop can filled with small pebbles, shaken at a distance, manages to pull him out of his bad behavior. Once he’s been neutered, after a period of about eight weeks, his energy will relax, and he will become a kitten, which I hopefully can adopt out.

Our weather has been quite severe lately. The field mice are making their way inside the house. I’m still trying to figure out how. Flash will catch them and play with them. She will not dispatch them. But I noticed the other night Webster was on the mouse as quick as could be, and made short work of it. I have a neighbor a few doors down that I know is looking for a mouser so I went over to talk to him and he’s interested, but not right now. I told him it wouldn’t be right now anyway because no kitten leaves here unless they’ve been tested and neutered or spayed. His wife is quite sick, but he needs a shop cat to get rid of the field mice. I am still thinking about it because it is only three doors down. Once Webster gets outside after a few months of living in the shop, will he run across the highway to look for his mother? Or will he return to me? I really don’t want to pick this kitten up off the highway. I am reasonably sure that he came from the house across from me. I really want him just to be a house-cat. He loves to be picked up and cuddled. He wants to sleep on my chest at night. He just needs the right home in the right circumstance in order to thrive.

Happy Thanksgiving to everybody. Give everyone you love a big hug and a kiss when you see them. Enjoy the holidays, eat lots of turkey, and give some of the leftovers to your kitties!

Webster

Webster is now eating me out of house and home! He just had his second deworming. Gosh, he was so full of parasites. I had hoped that the first de-worming would have taken most of them away. He was just packed with parasites.

Now it seems he’s making up for lost time. He weighs 2 1/2 pounds, I can see that he is going to be a very large cat. I also think I found a home for him. I haven’t gone to investigate the house yet. Webster isn’t going anywhere until I get him tested and neutered. Unfortunately these days, the cost of both of those is a little bit out of range right now. Plus, he’s too little at this point to be neutered. 

Because of my lack of having a usable right hand, I still cannot drive. I’ve tried everything I can think of, including lowering the steering wheel. But right now, I am just not confident behind the wheel. I did talk to a friend of mine and asked her that when I do go on my first drive, if she will go with me. I want her to take me over to warehouse row and let me just drive where there’s not much traffic and a lot of space. My shoulder has never returned to normal. There is talk that maybe it won’t. I’ve had to take everything in my top kitchen cupboards and put them lower so that I can reach what I need without the pain that comes with reaching over my head. At my last meeting with my surgeon last week, he mentioned that I needed to get on his list for the second surgery on my left side. I’m simply not ready for that. If he does not understand it then perhaps I need to find another surgeon. A second opinion is always good.

By using my treadmill daily, I am no longer walker-dependent. I believe that was one of the reasons I was able to capture Flash the other night. Thank God for those two miracles.

A True Celebration

The Rooftop Kitties turned a year old on November 2. While I was peacefully sleeping, they were up to no good. True mischiefmakers these three are. They discovered a closet where I had stashed some shredded papers. They dragged the bag out into the cat room and decided to party their little hearts out! In the morning when I woke up, I was met with such a mess. They did their best, not to look guilty, but it was pretty obvious who did it. Even when Addie showed up to investigate, it was clear to me that she had no knowledge of what they had done.

Not to be out done by her sisters, a few days later Flash pushed open the screen door and got outside! I was out in the front yard, throwing away some trash. I turned around, and I saw her and my heart just stuck in my throat. It was becoming dark. I knew if she darted underneath my truck, or headed for the highway. There was nothing I could do. I am not moving very fast these days. However, I am no longer bound to the walker.

I called her very gently, but she was scared to death. So much traffic on the highway that night. Thank the good Lord, she kept hugging the house and running from the back gate up to the front door. She never deviated from the route. I could tell she was terrified. I knew I couldn’t chase her. That would just make her stop her path and find a safer one. I set myself up by the stairs in the front by the door. When she passed me and ran up the stairs, I leaned over and scooped her up. I hugged her very tightly and I talked to her. I had her scruffed while supporting her rear. I just kept hugging her and talking to her waiting for the traffic to stop so that I could get up the steps safely and get her into the house.

I have no idea why she didn’t scratch or bite me. I could feel her tighten every time a truck or car roared past. She was trembling as was I. I finally got her into the house and apologize to her for not shutting the front door properly. That will never happen again. Now she won’t even go near the front door. Not that I blame her. It was a weekend when this happened and the traffic was definitely not light.  That situation took three years of my life. Not sure how many lives she lost during that time out of her nine.

Never a dull moment.

On a good note, I have been discharged from both physical therapy and occupational therapy. I wish I could report that I have full use of my right hand. However, that’s not the case. They told me at my last visit that it will probably take an additional six months to a year before my right hand will be hopefully restored. It was mentioned that when I signed all the paperwork before the surgery, I assumed all the risks and complications that might happen. This sort of tells me that they realize they did something wrong, but they aren’t owning up to it. But, all I want is just to keep working on my hand by myself. Trying to get to the point where I can actually write cursive legibly. I can print now. However, if I start to write something that is over a page long. My hand starts burning so badly. I have to drop the pen and just walk away. I also have trouble reading what I’ve written because it still looks very elementary. Not at all like my beautiful handwriting I had before the surgery.