Posts Tagged ‘Wednesday’

So I’d spent a day at the Monroe County Animal Shelter perusing the pussycats.  I had gone to check out a reputed tortoiseshell, but she proved not to be the glamour-puss she had been touted as (oh, all right. . . ).  But, still, with Wednesday departed, as large as those pawprints may be to fill (cf. January 25), the computer cave did need a new cat.  And so I forged on, looking at those in the rows of cages, then into the room they call the Cat Colony. . . .

Long story short, a new cat has arrived at the computer cave, the goth cat Triana.  Her shelter name is (was) Lucy Lu (thus gaining her the ID when she went to the vet yesterday afternoon for additional shots, “The Cat Formerly Known as Lucy Lu”) — she’s a mostly black cat with a white chest and “socks,” short haired, occasional small white bits on an ankle or a knee, but with the black a deep, deep black and the white a snowy white white, giving the impression of what a cat might look like in a Chinese brush drawing.  Very beautiful and, one of my criteria, very different from Wednesday (gray and fluffy) so I can keep Wednesday’s memory separate and not fall into trying to compare them.  She’s only four months old (I expect I’ll advance her birthday a few days to October 1, so she’ll be an “October cat” presaging triana1the fall and Halloween, just as Wednesday’s probably late-April birthday was moved to May Day, for International Labor Day as befit a proletariat in the mousing trade).  Also she’s very lively, in fact at the shelter when I reached to pet the cat next to her she sank her little fangs in my hand, kitten talk for “pay attention to me instead, please” (I joked to the staff about her possibly having not completely teethed yet).  She followed with the rubbing against me bit, purring very loudly, obviously having had her kitty basic training.

And, “dressed” mostly in black, she’s a goth girl cat, and thus the name I’ve given her, Triana, after the necromancer Dr. Byron Orpheus’s daughter in the VENTURE BROS. cartoon series.  Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of her for now (she was new enough to the animal shelter that they hadn’t taken any of her yet), so the picture here is that of her namesake, Triana Orpheus.

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Twelve years is considered old age for house cats, even if many —  especially if in an indoor environment —  may continue to thrive considerably longer.  But at about twelve they can become prey to various ailments associated mainly with elderly cats.  Resident cave cat Wednesday had her twelfth birthday in May last year.  Moreover, Wednesday had already had some bad luck with her health the year before, in 2015, which she took a number of medicines for as well as getting a high-powered flea collar (cf. “Wednesday’s New Clothes,” October 30 2015).  But then last fall, for 2016, she had her checkup and this time tested as having hyperthyroidism, a definite “old cat” kind of metabolism disorder, and a serious one.  So in late November she started a special diet to keep that in check, but last weekend she stopped eating altogether and, yesterday morning, went to the vet to have more tests.  The new problem seemed to be kidney failure.  Very serious.   So she spent last night at the cat hospital having her system flushed out in hopes she’d be better this morning, be able to eat again — plus have more tests, but it  didn’t look good.

Last night was strange in a very sad way.  I found myself doing little things I really didn’t have to be doing, closing the front door quickly behind me when I got home.  Looking around me before I set food out in the kitchen unguarded — things I do when there’s a cat in the house.  Missing, when I got home, how Wednesday would sometimes run out to greet me.  I did look in on her yesterday afternoon at the vet, though, and she didn’t even seem to recognize me then, granted she’d had a really rough morning.  But then this morning the vet called to say, while they’d had a little hope the night before, her test results, if anything, were even worse now.  Other aspects of her health were going down as well, she still wouldn’t eat, and her temperature had gotten dangerously low.  So, long story short, after much discussion I came back in this afternoon for our final goodbyes, she responding to petting a little at the end, but otherwise still didn’t seem to know me.  Then at about 4 p.m., there being nothing else to do, we had to let Wednesday go.

wednesday1
She was a good cat.

Sunday, the second day of a cold snap that’s finally brought November temperatures to November, also brought the Bloomington Writers Guild’s Third Sunday “prompt” session (cf. September 19).  This is kind of fun mostly, a group of us around a table writing like mad to prompts the facilitator(s) offer, completing an essay or story or poem within a fixed time.  There are usually three of these, the first yesterday involving description/analysis of a recurring dream, the second a poetry prompt from an outside source, and the third. . . .

Well, a moment on that.  The third, for which we had only five minutes (the first two were fifteen minutes each), was to write a “thank you” letter.  But my mind wasn’t entirely on this.  It seems the cave cat Wednesday (more on whom, here depicted in kittenhood some twelve and a half years back, can be wendy31found under her name on “PAGES” at the far right) had her annual visit to the vet last week and the news wasn’t all good.  She had been losing weight and, tests coming back, the reason appears to be hyperthyroidism.  The good news is she can have the condition treated by eating a special *expensive* cat food, a bag of which is now on order in hopes she will like it.  The bad for her is that she must eat it exclusively, which means no more cat treats (her favorite:  Friskies’ “Beachside Crunch”).  So anyway what came up was a cat-related “thank you” to a hypothetical sister, for the gift of a hypothetical book, with the hypothetical cat “Fluffy” standing in for Wednesday — and which, as a tip of the hat for her, I offer as a lagniappe:

Dear Sister.  Thank you very much for the book you sent, 101 THINGS TO DO WITH YOUR CAT.  Fluffy thanks you too, though she thought numbers 18 and 36 were a little rough.  Her favorite, though, seems to be number 52, the one that involves catnip.  I would have one complaint, however — or perhaps a warning you might include if you give copies to people in the future — for numbers 48, 77, and 82, I woindexuld strongly recommend wearing thick gloves.  (Your Loving Brother)

Then back to business for Monday, today’s email included a proof copy of Popcorn Press’s LUPINE LUNES, including my Rhysling-nominated poem “Beware of the Dog” (see October 29, et al.), returned with no problems found this afternoon.  “Beware of the Dog” was originally published in GRIEVOUS ANGEL, September 11 2014.

Wendy3

Wednesday the Cave Cat, Once Upon a Time (Wednesday’s webpage can be found here)

For those who recall the illustration with October 19th’s post, here is a much nicer portrait of early French film actress, director, producer, and “vamp,” Musidora. (1889 – 1957)

musidora_a_vampires_poster

(Musidora is also to some extent the visual model for Aimée in “Casket Girls,” cf. April 17, 3, et al.)

Then two quick items:  Today is the tenth anniversary of Wednesday the cave cat’s coming to the computer cave, for more about which check out “Wednesday” under “PAGES” on the right or else press here.  And Untreed Reads Publishing reminds us that this is the final day of their Halloween sale, including special low prices on my I’M DREAMING OF A. . . . and the New Year’s anthology YEAR’S END with my lead-off story “Appointment in Time,” for more on which press here.




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