What's not to love?
I read about these guys in my North Shore Animal League newsletter.
They're all like ex-cops, firefighters and martial arts experts who are covered in tattoos and go around rescuing animals and educating the public about animal cruelty. How awesome is that?
Of course, my favorite is Des - "The Cat Man."
I think that pretty much goes without saying.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
When the Feliway runs out...
I'm going kind of out of order here, 'cause I haven't even told you (whoever you is at this time) about Bailey yet, but let's go a little out of order. I wouldn't want to be a slouchy blogger, now would I? Plus, I'm at work, it's alomst 7pm, I got time to kill before going out. Here goes...
The full story will follow, but I got Bailey.
I did not carefully introduce him into the home like I did Sebastian. Hence (probably), this is why Apollo and Bailey do not get along. This will all be documented soon enough.
To help alleviate the strife, I invested in a product called Comfort Zone w/ Feliway. And, you know what? IT WORKS!!!
For 4 weeks. Then it stops working. And without keeping track, you know how I know it works? Because the tentative truce that Bailey and Apollo have forged becomes instantly dismantled. Bailey starts charging at Apollo. Apollo will cry Holy Hell when Bailey tries to walk past him.
To be honest, I don't know who the agressor is. I think it changes. Like Bailey will be dociley (is that a word) walking across the room and Apollo will yell and growl. At feeding time, Bailey will sprawl across the threshold of the kitchen so Apollo can't pass. When Apollo's on the bed at night, he hunts the perimeter so Bailey can't jump up. But, in the morning he ceases to care.
That's why I started this 'blog, really. To keep track of their day-by-day lives, and try and make some sense of it. Maybe an expert will stumble upon this fair, old website and give me some free advice. Who knows?
The full story will follow, but I got Bailey.
I did not carefully introduce him into the home like I did Sebastian. Hence (probably), this is why Apollo and Bailey do not get along. This will all be documented soon enough.
To help alleviate the strife, I invested in a product called Comfort Zone w/ Feliway. And, you know what? IT WORKS!!!
For 4 weeks. Then it stops working. And without keeping track, you know how I know it works? Because the tentative truce that Bailey and Apollo have forged becomes instantly dismantled. Bailey starts charging at Apollo. Apollo will cry Holy Hell when Bailey tries to walk past him.
To be honest, I don't know who the agressor is. I think it changes. Like Bailey will be dociley (is that a word) walking across the room and Apollo will yell and growl. At feeding time, Bailey will sprawl across the threshold of the kitchen so Apollo can't pass. When Apollo's on the bed at night, he hunts the perimeter so Bailey can't jump up. But, in the morning he ceases to care.
That's why I started this 'blog, really. To keep track of their day-by-day lives, and try and make some sense of it. Maybe an expert will stumble upon this fair, old website and give me some free advice. Who knows?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sebastian...you're in a mess...
When a beloved pet passes away, there are basically two courses of action: try and replace him with a cat that looks exactly like it or get a pet that is completely different. I opted for the latter. I was, however, very specific in whatkind of cat I wanted: an 8-week-old, male, gray, non-tabby.
Luckily I started my search in what many people referred to as “kitten season,” which falls in about mid-June. First stop: the ASPCA on 92nd Street. The ASPCA has long been on my list of “year end donations,” so it was a logical first step. After filling out the application, and my referrences (my Dad and Sister) attested to what a great kitten mom I would be, I was led to the kitten ward. Needless to say, the rows and rows of cats up for adoption is heartbreaking. I can only hope they all found good homes.
I was not one of those homes. I felt bad about it, but I was sticking to my guns: grey, male, 8-weeks old. And, it was early June, so the fruits of kitten season hadn’t quite bore out. Lots of tabbys, lots of black and whites. And, though I have a ton of respect for the ASPCA, they have a policy of neutering the kittens at 2 months old, which I don’t agree with. I can see their reasoning which is bascially make sure that an irresponsible owner won’t result in more kittens, but it’s not how I wanted to start out. So, it was off to Bid-A-Wee, on waaay east 38th Street. I got their at 4:05. They close at 4 on Sundays.
Dammit!
Last stop: Kitty Kind, which operates out of PetCo in Union Square. And what did I find at Kitty Kind?
Yup, I held out and ‘lo and behold. He was the less aggressive of the two boys in his litter and he was so comfy when I held him. He was mine. Though, note to future Kitty Kind Adopters: the fee is $125. CASH. And the deal Kitty Kind has cut with PetCo is they let them have their space in the store,and when a cat gets adopted, they encourage you to shop the store for all of the provisions. I picked up: a tiny litter box, two new bowls, a toy for the kitten, a toy for Apollo (as bribery), 7 cans of moist kitten food(Science Diet), and a new cat carrier. Grand total: $70 (credit). Along with the adoption, I got a free bag of Science Diet dry kitten food. Woohoo!
Me, the as-yet-unnamed kitten, and all of my provisions hopped on the subway home. A group of teenaged, South Carolinan missionaries told me I should name him “Gizmo.” Um…no.
My parents had adopted two kittens the year before, and right after, my Mom had found “The Kitten Owner’s Manual” by Arden Moore in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles. I had taken it from her and duly followed their instructions as to introducing a new pet. I put “Kitten” in the bathroom (the only room in my apartment with a door), set up the tiny litter box, put down some food and water, put his toy down, and played with…Apollo and his new toy.
Yup, hard as it is, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Apollo got my undivided attention most of the time. I’m not gonna lie – of course I went in to play with the kitten. But, it was pretty much all about Apollo.
And “Kitten” stayed in the bathroom for the next few days. Sometimes he would mewl and Apollo would glare at the door, but for the most part, that phase went well.
Then I switched them around. Apollo in the bathroom, kitten everywhere else. That’s when I really saw the absolute brazeness of this small creature. He was everywhere, scurrying about. Then I let them together, and…it went okay. Apollo was a little growly and Kitten couldn’t care less. But, within a few days, Apollo and Kitten were getting along. Nowhere near to the adoration for each other that Jakuma and Apollo had, but they got along well enough. At dinner time (in the kitchen for both, now), the very small kitten would scurry under Apollo’s stomach, he couldn’t contain his excitement. He actually did that last week, which was hilarous because Sebastian is bigger than Apollo now.
The name came from the band Belle and Sebastian, of whom I am a lifelong fan. I wanted to name the kitten something literary (I was close to Dimitri, as I had just finished the Brothers Karamazov), and my Mom was like, “Well, Belle and Sebastian are a literary band.” Which is true. So, there you have it.
Sebastian is now over a year old, which in cat years means he’s kind of a teenager. He’s pretty big, not huge, but big and still very energetic. He has this game he plays since he was a kitten. He picks up one of his toys, carries it in his mouth, jumps up on my bed while I’m still sleeping, drops the toy on my back then chases it wherever it rolls. His favorite time to play this game is 4am. He’s backed off of this game a bit, but sometimes he likes to revive it. Yay. Often it ends up with me hiding his toy in the drawer of my nightstand. He gives me this “aw, but I was having fun” look that does break my heart a little, but I’m a realist, and I have to get up in 3 hours. He can sleep and play all day long!
He also had this awful habit when he was little of chasing Apollo away from his food. Apollo has a very blasé attitude towards food. He’s had a cushty life, so he’s never had to worry about it. Remember how I mentioned Sebastian was brazen? Yeah, not a good combination. Sebastian inhales his food while Apollo slowly, daintily eats his. When Seb (that’s his ‘blog name) was finished, he would nuzzle his way into Apollo’s dish. Apollo – not giving a shit – would just walk away. No good! BUT! Through patience and perseverence, I was able to train Sebastian to wait until Ap (his ‘blog name) was finished and then he could clean the bowl out if he wanted. How did I do it? When Seb would be finished, I would stand between him and Apollo. Simple as that. I mean, it wasn’t quite siimple. There was some dancing around to do on my part. If Seb was being super aggressive, I would pick him up and hold him until Ap was finished. (See the “corporal cuddling” from the video.) And then one day, Seb finished his food, and went and just laid down across the hall from the kitchen door. Eventually, when Apollo finished, Seb would walk over to his bowl and eat the leftovers. And when Bailey came along, also a slow eater which is suprising as you will find out next post, Sebasian does the same – waits until he’s done, then cleans the bowls.
I mean, he doesn’t always clean the bowls. He’s not that fat, I don’t think. He might be. Actually, the last time I took Apollo to the vets, I was worried he was underweight. The vet admitted that maybe he was slightly underweight, but that most house cats are overweight, so a normal weight house cat seems thin. Seb is due to the vets soon. We’ll see the verdict.
Anyway. So, Apollo and Sebastian got along quite well, ultimately. They’d play wrestle like Jak (his ‘blog name) and Ap used to. They’d clean each other a bit. They never really curled up with each other the way J and A (see, now I’m just getting lazy) used to, but I think their relationship was exceptional. All in all, I was happy. And for the next 3 and a ½ months, the three of us were quite content. Me, 700 square feet, and two cats, just like before.
For the record, this is a photo of Jak and Ap shortly before Jakuma passed away. Can't you feel the love?
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
Luckily I started my search in what many people referred to as “kitten season,” which falls in about mid-June. First stop: the ASPCA on 92nd Street. The ASPCA has long been on my list of “year end donations,” so it was a logical first step. After filling out the application, and my referrences (my Dad and Sister) attested to what a great kitten mom I would be, I was led to the kitten ward. Needless to say, the rows and rows of cats up for adoption is heartbreaking. I can only hope they all found good homes.
I was not one of those homes. I felt bad about it, but I was sticking to my guns: grey, male, 8-weeks old. And, it was early June, so the fruits of kitten season hadn’t quite bore out. Lots of tabbys, lots of black and whites. And, though I have a ton of respect for the ASPCA, they have a policy of neutering the kittens at 2 months old, which I don’t agree with. I can see their reasoning which is bascially make sure that an irresponsible owner won’t result in more kittens, but it’s not how I wanted to start out. So, it was off to Bid-A-Wee, on waaay east 38th Street. I got their at 4:05. They close at 4 on Sundays.
Dammit!
Last stop: Kitty Kind, which operates out of PetCo in Union Square. And what did I find at Kitty Kind?
Yup, I held out and ‘lo and behold. He was the less aggressive of the two boys in his litter and he was so comfy when I held him. He was mine. Though, note to future Kitty Kind Adopters: the fee is $125. CASH. And the deal Kitty Kind has cut with PetCo is they let them have their space in the store,and when a cat gets adopted, they encourage you to shop the store for all of the provisions. I picked up: a tiny litter box, two new bowls, a toy for the kitten, a toy for Apollo (as bribery), 7 cans of moist kitten food(Science Diet), and a new cat carrier. Grand total: $70 (credit). Along with the adoption, I got a free bag of Science Diet dry kitten food. Woohoo!
Me, the as-yet-unnamed kitten, and all of my provisions hopped on the subway home. A group of teenaged, South Carolinan missionaries told me I should name him “Gizmo.” Um…no.
My parents had adopted two kittens the year before, and right after, my Mom had found “The Kitten Owner’s Manual” by Arden Moore in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles. I had taken it from her and duly followed their instructions as to introducing a new pet. I put “Kitten” in the bathroom (the only room in my apartment with a door), set up the tiny litter box, put down some food and water, put his toy down, and played with…Apollo and his new toy.
Yup, hard as it is, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Apollo got my undivided attention most of the time. I’m not gonna lie – of course I went in to play with the kitten. But, it was pretty much all about Apollo.
And “Kitten” stayed in the bathroom for the next few days. Sometimes he would mewl and Apollo would glare at the door, but for the most part, that phase went well.
Then I switched them around. Apollo in the bathroom, kitten everywhere else. That’s when I really saw the absolute brazeness of this small creature. He was everywhere, scurrying about. Then I let them together, and…it went okay. Apollo was a little growly and Kitten couldn’t care less. But, within a few days, Apollo and Kitten were getting along. Nowhere near to the adoration for each other that Jakuma and Apollo had, but they got along well enough. At dinner time (in the kitchen for both, now), the very small kitten would scurry under Apollo’s stomach, he couldn’t contain his excitement. He actually did that last week, which was hilarous because Sebastian is bigger than Apollo now.
The name came from the band Belle and Sebastian, of whom I am a lifelong fan. I wanted to name the kitten something literary (I was close to Dimitri, as I had just finished the Brothers Karamazov), and my Mom was like, “Well, Belle and Sebastian are a literary band.” Which is true. So, there you have it.
Sebastian is now over a year old, which in cat years means he’s kind of a teenager. He’s pretty big, not huge, but big and still very energetic. He has this game he plays since he was a kitten. He picks up one of his toys, carries it in his mouth, jumps up on my bed while I’m still sleeping, drops the toy on my back then chases it wherever it rolls. His favorite time to play this game is 4am. He’s backed off of this game a bit, but sometimes he likes to revive it. Yay. Often it ends up with me hiding his toy in the drawer of my nightstand. He gives me this “aw, but I was having fun” look that does break my heart a little, but I’m a realist, and I have to get up in 3 hours. He can sleep and play all day long!
He also had this awful habit when he was little of chasing Apollo away from his food. Apollo has a very blasé attitude towards food. He’s had a cushty life, so he’s never had to worry about it. Remember how I mentioned Sebastian was brazen? Yeah, not a good combination. Sebastian inhales his food while Apollo slowly, daintily eats his. When Seb (that’s his ‘blog name) was finished, he would nuzzle his way into Apollo’s dish. Apollo – not giving a shit – would just walk away. No good! BUT! Through patience and perseverence, I was able to train Sebastian to wait until Ap (his ‘blog name) was finished and then he could clean the bowl out if he wanted. How did I do it? When Seb would be finished, I would stand between him and Apollo. Simple as that. I mean, it wasn’t quite siimple. There was some dancing around to do on my part. If Seb was being super aggressive, I would pick him up and hold him until Ap was finished. (See the “corporal cuddling” from the video.) And then one day, Seb finished his food, and went and just laid down across the hall from the kitchen door. Eventually, when Apollo finished, Seb would walk over to his bowl and eat the leftovers. And when Bailey came along, also a slow eater which is suprising as you will find out next post, Sebasian does the same – waits until he’s done, then cleans the bowls.
I mean, he doesn’t always clean the bowls. He’s not that fat, I don’t think. He might be. Actually, the last time I took Apollo to the vets, I was worried he was underweight. The vet admitted that maybe he was slightly underweight, but that most house cats are overweight, so a normal weight house cat seems thin. Seb is due to the vets soon. We’ll see the verdict.
Anyway. So, Apollo and Sebastian got along quite well, ultimately. They’d play wrestle like Jak (his ‘blog name) and Ap used to. They’d clean each other a bit. They never really curled up with each other the way J and A (see, now I’m just getting lazy) used to, but I think their relationship was exceptional. All in all, I was happy. And for the next 3 and a ½ months, the three of us were quite content. Me, 700 square feet, and two cats, just like before.
For the record, this is a photo of Jak and Ap shortly before Jakuma passed away. Can't you feel the love?
Then one day in mid-September, I was visiting my parents when we spy a fluffy white cat in their neighbor’s yard.
His name tag said Bailey. And he became cat #3.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Givin' Props...
I know this video has been around for a while, but this is where I got the name of this blog from. So, gotta give props where props is due, as some may say.
Enjoy!
(btw, I'm a Professional Engineer...)
Enjoy!
(btw, I'm a Professional Engineer...)
Monday, June 9, 2008
In the beginning....
Okay, so that's a cheesy way to start off my first post about my first cat, but whatever.
March, 1996. I was living in Mali, West Africa with the Peace Corps. I lived in a "city" called Sikasso: three paved roads, 100,000 people. The house I inherited from the guy I was replacing was a pretty big compound with a main "modern" house, a garage, a gazebo, and a bungalow. In this bungalow lived a Bamabara man by the name of Coulibaly. Coulibaly's main occupation was that of a garabou or witch doctor ("traditional healer" in PC terms, but I find "witch doctor" packs more punch).
Anyways, after having cat-sitted for a fellow volunteer Coulibaly noted, rather amusingly because pets - especially cats - are not a common thing there, my attachment to the cats I was cat-sitting. One was a wiley female grey tabby and the other was a big 'ole black Tom. Coulibaly was especially impressed with the black Tom, which was odd because the Bambara believe that solid black cats shape shift into sorceresses at night.
In any case, I returned the cats to my fellow volunteer. Soon after, Coulibaly had to go into the bush to gather up medicine. When he came back a week later, I asked him for my souvenir (a sort-of joke there). He plunked down on my porch, a cardboard box with airholes containing an 8-week old, solid black, male kitten. I was mildly shocked to say the least. I brought the kitten inside and the rest is a very long, intricate history. I will get into that at another time.
To make an exteremely long story short: when my serivce was complete, I packed the cat up and come June, 1998, my Dad drove to JFK airport to pick up a fully mature, non-neutered, semi-feral black male cat by the name of Jakuma (whch means "cat" in Bambara. Creative, aren't I?) His journey to the States included a 48-hour layover in Brussels, due to his missing his connecting flight.
From there, after a thoroughly first world neutering, we moved to Ithaca, NY where he grew in his first winter coat at the age of 3. His first stab at a winter coat came in a little patchy, but come winter '99 he had gotten the hang of it. He had also gained about 4 pounds and had serenly adjusted to the life of your average American housecat.
We then moved to Brooklyn, where I started my first "real" job in March of '99. When I swtiched apartments that November, I still had the same landlord, Howard (RIP), and never was there a greater cat lover. Whe he brought the keys over, he also brought over a pet carrier with two 6 week old kittens. He had kept insisting that Jakuma needs a friend and had just rescued a pregnant female a couple of months earlier and would I like one of these kittens, ready to be weaned from their mother in a few weeks? He paid for the first round of shots and let me deduct the neutering 4 months later from my rent.
Enter Apollo. A playful (what kitten isn't?) little brown tabby. After a questionable couple of days with Jakuma growling at the bathroom door where Apollo was kept, he came around. Not only did he come around, but Jakuma and Apollo became the best of friends. They cleaned each other, used each other for pillows. If Jakuma would accidentally get a little rough and hurt Apollo after a wrestle, he would give him a tender lick. Really, the best of friends.
On March 24, 2007, Jakuma died in a car service on the way to the Animal Hospital on Warren Street. From the description I gave the vet, it became apparrent that he had had a stroke. While 11 is on the young side for an indoor cat, I think anyone would agree that he had a hell of a life.
I was, of course, devastated, and Apollo became confused, sad, and then needy. After sufficient grieving time, on June 2nd, 2007, I adopted an 8-week old grey and white tuxedo kitten and called him Sebastian.
And that is currently cat #2.
March, 1996. I was living in Mali, West Africa with the Peace Corps. I lived in a "city" called Sikasso: three paved roads, 100,000 people. The house I inherited from the guy I was replacing was a pretty big compound with a main "modern" house, a garage, a gazebo, and a bungalow. In this bungalow lived a Bamabara man by the name of Coulibaly. Coulibaly's main occupation was that of a garabou or witch doctor ("traditional healer" in PC terms, but I find "witch doctor" packs more punch).
Anyways, after having cat-sitted for a fellow volunteer Coulibaly noted, rather amusingly because pets - especially cats - are not a common thing there, my attachment to the cats I was cat-sitting. One was a wiley female grey tabby and the other was a big 'ole black Tom. Coulibaly was especially impressed with the black Tom, which was odd because the Bambara believe that solid black cats shape shift into sorceresses at night.
In any case, I returned the cats to my fellow volunteer. Soon after, Coulibaly had to go into the bush to gather up medicine. When he came back a week later, I asked him for my souvenir (a sort-of joke there). He plunked down on my porch, a cardboard box with airholes containing an 8-week old, solid black, male kitten. I was mildly shocked to say the least. I brought the kitten inside and the rest is a very long, intricate history. I will get into that at another time.
To make an exteremely long story short: when my serivce was complete, I packed the cat up and come June, 1998, my Dad drove to JFK airport to pick up a fully mature, non-neutered, semi-feral black male cat by the name of Jakuma (whch means "cat" in Bambara. Creative, aren't I?) His journey to the States included a 48-hour layover in Brussels, due to his missing his connecting flight.
From there, after a thoroughly first world neutering, we moved to Ithaca, NY where he grew in his first winter coat at the age of 3. His first stab at a winter coat came in a little patchy, but come winter '99 he had gotten the hang of it. He had also gained about 4 pounds and had serenly adjusted to the life of your average American housecat.
We then moved to Brooklyn, where I started my first "real" job in March of '99. When I swtiched apartments that November, I still had the same landlord, Howard (RIP), and never was there a greater cat lover. Whe he brought the keys over, he also brought over a pet carrier with two 6 week old kittens. He had kept insisting that Jakuma needs a friend and had just rescued a pregnant female a couple of months earlier and would I like one of these kittens, ready to be weaned from their mother in a few weeks? He paid for the first round of shots and let me deduct the neutering 4 months later from my rent.
Enter Apollo. A playful (what kitten isn't?) little brown tabby. After a questionable couple of days with Jakuma growling at the bathroom door where Apollo was kept, he came around. Not only did he come around, but Jakuma and Apollo became the best of friends. They cleaned each other, used each other for pillows. If Jakuma would accidentally get a little rough and hurt Apollo after a wrestle, he would give him a tender lick. Really, the best of friends.
On March 24, 2007, Jakuma died in a car service on the way to the Animal Hospital on Warren Street. From the description I gave the vet, it became apparrent that he had had a stroke. While 11 is on the young side for an indoor cat, I think anyone would agree that he had a hell of a life.
I was, of course, devastated, and Apollo became confused, sad, and then needy. After sufficient grieving time, on June 2nd, 2007, I adopted an 8-week old grey and white tuxedo kitten and called him Sebastian.
And that is currently cat #2.
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