Absynthe (Abby)

Abby led a quiet life until her peaceful end. 

August 1, 1995 - June 17, 2011

highs

Have I mentioned how much I love my Mac?

... and my new very comfortable bed?

It is quite a bit higher than my old mattress. My feet dangle off the edge and don't reach the floor. That is kind of a fun novelty. Is it not strange how I can be so conscious of being higher up? Perhaps a footstool will be necessary especially as poor Abby cannot possibly climb that high. She hasn't had any more bad turns, but I have a neighbour checking in on her while I'm gone.

In the meantime, I show you this beauty

I have three more just like it - two for me, one for the catsitter and one for my friend who owns the cottage.

And it is snowing again.

So, until Tuesday. I will try to do something blogworthy to report. I know I have been leading a dull life of late and haven't had much to say.

update

It has been three weeks. THREE WEEKS. And I am so tired of being sick. Today I feel as if I have turned a corner, but then I have said that before only to feel just as bad (though in a different way) hours later. I have heard from several people who had this strain of flu and we all agree - the worst part is the coughing. It is almost relentless. Even the cat is fed up with it and has managed to pull down a towel off the shower curtain rod and made a cozy little bed for herself in the bathtub. When she is not asleep on the chesterfield. Can't say as I blame her, really. At least she is no longer sleeping on my head, or my chest.

I have managed to continue working at night - the fresh air feels so good - but it was getting embarrassing to have to phone clients back after rescheduling their appointments to say "um, sorry, I'm sick again."

I have more than an adequate supply of kleenex, vitamins, lemons, ginger ale (and even ginger beer), chicken soup, cough drops and bottles of cough syrup (currently Benalyn, Robitussin, and Buckley's). Then there is the Vicks Vaporub which has not done a darn thing for relief. I have a new vaporizer, several new toothbrushes and change my pillowcases every other day. I am fighting this with everything I can think off and yet still this damn thing hangs on.

The bad news is my birthday weekend away has been cancelled.

The good news is I have lost several pounds.

eating habits

I have always been amazed at people who would take a big bite of some food (or gulp of drink) only to discover it was something way too hot/spicy/distasteful etc. Perhaps it is because I was a picky eater as a child, but I have never not taken a small sample of the food, or not surreptitiously sniffed at it before putting anything in my mouth. That's not to say I haven't been caught off guard by an aftertaste, or chunk of too hot potato, or a burning from a chili, but at least I have never staggered around helplessly feeling as if I was dying. My mother once, when sushi was still a very new experience, covered her piece of whatever it was with a generous slather of wasabi. She was warned by my brother, but it was too late ("oh, I like horseradish") ... we all watched in horror as her face turned seven shades of red and the tears streamed. It may have been the only time I ever saw her drink beer.

You have all seen that piece about how to give a cat a pill. Abby was due for the second of her 1/4 appetite stimulant pill on Sunday night. A teeny, tiny, itty, bitty pill was already quartered with the first quarter given to her by the vet before she was fully awake from the sedation. We all knew it would be tough, but with her absolute love of yoghourt, I thought this minuscule thing could be crushed and stirred into the yoghourt. I put the crushed pill quarter into the bottom half of the container and gave it a little stir. Nope. Not interested. She just walked away. I thought maybe there was too much fruit left, so last night we tried again. I even gave up the whole 125g snack sized French Vanilla Activia yoghourt for the cause. Nothing doing. She came running and looked at it and walked around the container. She sniffed it. She very hesitantly put her tongue close to it and took a tentative tiny lap. And spent several seconds trying to get it off her tongue. She pawed and moved the container around the floor and walked around it again... I took a spoonful and put it in a saucer, hoping she would think it was something new... not a chance. I even tried tasting it myself, wondering what kind of reaction I would have (but then, I am a little weightier than a cat, any cat. household cat, that is). Everything tasted as I would have expected it should. I tried spooning it into her. I tried spreading it on her face for her to lick off. She hadn't eaten anything all day, so I was getting a little worried. She knew it was yoghourt. She knew she liked it, but no way was she going to dive in and lap it up.

Today, I gave her a my finished yoghourt bowl, without any pill fragments... all gone in seconds.

dear abby

We are all full of cuddles and purrs and head scratches now.

But yesterday was another story.

I came home and woke the cat up to shift her off the middle of the bed and instead of climbing off in a snit, she staggered around, could barely open her eyes and I was convinced she could not see. Poor thing was as limp as a dishrag.

A couple of hours later, I came back from an appointment and a fruitless search for a veterinary clinic that could see her immediately and she seemed to have gained at least enough strength to get to the litter box for a pee. Which wasn't as much of a good thing as I'd thought when the vet at the emergency hospital later couldn't get a 'sample'.

And, as I knew would be necessary, she had to be sedated before anything could be even thought of being done. Because, my sweet little cat turns into a howling, hissing, spitting monster whenever she gets to a vet's office. Or feels her personal space is being invaded. Or sometimes when she just doesn't like you any more.

But, really, she is the nicest, most friendly cat - she will be the first to greet you at the door and will do that floppy thing all over your feet that cats are wont to do. She will purr loudly and smile when you give her a scratch behind the ears or under the chin. She will later be the perfect hostess and come from wherever she has gone to nap to say goodbye and see you off when you are ready to leave. She may even go out into the hall and walk you to the elevator and hang about for a final head scratch. But, without any warning she can suddenly turn nasty. Of course, the vet's visit is enough warning, even if she did quite happily crawl into the wicker James Herriot style carrier for the journey.

She looked a little pathetic, really, once the sedation had kicked in. And I felt like such a bad mummy for not realizing until then just how skinny she had become. I knew she wasn't quite as hefty as she once was - she was never fat exactly, but she was sturdy; chunky I would say. There was no slender leg above her thick ankles and big paws. But, as the vet says, it is hard to notice these changes with a cat who sleeps 23 hours a day....

Anyway, a few hundred dollars later and a small vial of appetite stimulant and she is sprightlier than ever and certainly ready for lots (lots!) of lovin'. But, Abby, you have had nearly 16 years of vet avoidance and now you will have to get used to more visits (and more sedation) if you are diabetic and having kidney problems.

unwelcome

I awoke to a slight clattering noise.

My first thought was that it was the turtle slipping off his basking rock. I remembered seeing him basking before I went to bed, and he is big and lumbering.

My second thought was, since I'm awake...

and wandered into the livingroom to see a huge pigeon flying around.

He didn't seem happy to be visiting my humble abode.

Very quickly, the scent of fresh air from the open door lured him outside again where he landed on the railing. I swear he turned back to check that he was safe.

"my god, that was close" he must have been thinking before he flew off.

Which was rather close to what I was thinking.

I leave the door open, mostly for the fresh air, but also to let the cat wander in and out at will.

I glanced down at her as she followed me into the room.

"what? did I miss something?" she seemed to say as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

I pointed outside.

"oh. they are filthy nuisances aren't they? I'm going back to bed."

Which was pretty much what I did.

After I closed the balcony door.

and then there is laundry

Oh yeah.

She looks all innocent.

and then she throws up all over the bed… again.

Now we are on $35.99/3kg cat food for her poor tummy.

apparently, we are feeling better.

SundayStills - pets

Absynthe

What do you mean "I want a picture, look cute?"

I was sleeping... and I'm going back to sleep.

Go take a picture of the turtle...

oops, Otis isn't too happy about this photo taking either.

Abby is now 14 years old and Otis is an astounding 25 years old.
Neither are terribly cuddly.
Luckily, only the cat likes to sleep on my chest.

Pets was the first Sunday Stills photo challenge a year ago, and we are revisiting the same challenge with dozens of newer participants (myself included), so check out the other pets who rule over us here.

A Cat's Love

Pet me, pet me.

Right here, right behind the ear. Oh that's good. Don't stop. Under the chin, oh yessss. Keep going. Keep.... okay, that's enough.

Jumps off lap, shakes herself vigorously to let loose hair fly. Rubs herself down along side of chesterfield to get rid of more hair then turns around to deal with the other side.

Nice kitty.

Jumps back up on lap.

Pet me, pet me. [Pulls hand toward forehead with paws.]

Right there, on top of my head. Oohh, that's lovely. Here, let me give you a hug and drape as much of my hot, heavy, furry body around you as possible in gratitude.

Oh dear, is that a bead of sweat I see?

Let me get that for you. And there's more. I'll just lick it all off, shall I? Move your arm a bit and let me in.

What? What did I do?

Pet me. Pet me.

Not there. Oh, nevermind. I'll just go back to bed and sleep for a bit.