Laura Ingalls

Laura Ingalls is our cat with a substantial overbite. We call her "Bucky" and marvel at the fact that if she's on her back one can see in to the roof of her mouth. This has caused problems. Her bottom teeth poked the roof of her mouth and when Dee took her to the vet, she wrote her complaint as "stinky head". Yep, Laura had an infection from those teeth puncturing the roof of her mouth. So, those teeth were filed down.

Miss Laura is about three years old now. Turns out, there has been infection raging under those teeth for a while now. It actually burst through her chin with sores. That was pretty gross. So, today Laura went to the vet to have those teeth removed. Stephanie Vison is her vet. Dr. Vinson is terrific - the Green Hills Vet Clinic is very professional.

Warnings were issued, with those teeth removed, Laura might live with her tongue slightly protruding. Instructions were given - if Laura's not going to be able to have a quality recovery, take the path to ease her future pain. Many, many cats need a good home. We waited with fear and hope, that Laura Ingalls would be okay. She is. With those teeth removed, she may have to eat softer food, at least for a while, but she'll be holding shoulders again soon. Bucky is on the mend.

Dee selected Laura at the Humane Society. She crawled onto Dee and fell asleep - she was sweet. She rarely makes eye contact but will climb onto your shoulder if given the slightest opportunity. She's a shoulder holder. She'll walk around on Dee's shoulders and wrap herself like a stole.

She doesn't really play. When she does play, it's awkward. She wants to be held. When Dee was at Army camp for three months, I made a special effort to hold Laura Ingalls. Normally, I'll pet her but I tried to hold her more often. Really, I made a concentrated effort. She sleeps on the bed most of the day and doesn't run around too much. The exception is if the basement door is open, Laura scrambles down into the cellar. I'm not sure why.

They sent her home with a couple days worth of pain medicine. I'm glad. Now, if we can only administer them! Trying to medicate a cat - well, you may have seen the pictures. Luckily, we're now using syringes and shooting meds down her bucky gullet. So far, her tongue is inside her mouth!

Cat's Pajamas

Do cats appear to be wearing clothing? I always thought Dee's cat Shannon looked like she was wearing pants. Dee thought I was nuts. When my mom came to visit she remarked that Shannon appeared to be wearing pajamas. Dee says that it's some genetic sickness that mom and I think a cat might appear to be wearing garments.

I disagree with that assessment or else we wouldn't have the stories of puss in boots and the phrase, "the cat's pajamas." We even get formal and say a cat is a "tuxedo cat" - am I right? Not every cat appears clad in finery or bedclothes but it isn't out of this world to see a cat complete with an outfit to match.

Dee just sighed and said, "it's true - but I still disagree." Dee stops short of garmentry with commentary on Laura Ingall's eyeliner.

It's a cool Sunday and we're going to make tea and let this topic rest.

Margaret is Gone Forever

Margaret lived next door with her daughter, Melissa. We read that she was killed yesterday in a head-on collision. The other driver crossed the line. They weren't wearing seat belts. Her daughter, Melissa, was flown to University Hospital and is in serious condition. Poor Melissa, if she is ever awake again, she'll find her life completely confusing. I don't even know what that would mean.

I hope Margaret and the other passenger didn't suffer. She suffered much in life. There were times I'd hear her shouting late at night - or see her running around, looking wild with Albert Einstein hair. She was depressed and possibly delusional. She'd come over in the evenings to talk to me sometimes. She collected junk from dumpsters, went to all the stores in town and "rescued" their dead flowers and rotting vegetables. She prepared for the hard times ahead. She'd tell me what she said to people that supposedly were on the property late at night. She'd tell me that some neighborhood bad boy called her a bitch. She went on one time about her shame of her own problems and how she just couldn't stop crying - and she cried for a good long time right then. She brought food over one night, which I politely accepted and then carefully discarded.

She limped that beat up Volvo to Florida and we thought she wouldn't return but late March, she did. Since then, she'd been yelling at Melissa - which we don't recall her doing before. She had barely talked to us, which was unusual. She used to bring us half-dead flowers. It appeared she was perhaps moving some of the many items that packed the old house. I didn't have a lot of hope for her but I was surprised to see in the news that she'd been killed.

Dee and I went over to her mailbox (to check the last name and make sure the old Volvo wasn't in the driveway). A cop stopped by because they're doing extra watch of that house for now and it's all true. This time, Margaret won't come back. I wonder if the members of her church will help empty all the junk out of the house or if her family will arrive from Georgia and Florida to remove some of her "treasures."

Feeding Time in the Alley

Berkeley and Mae West were hungry enough to eat the cheap cat food and to tolerate my taking pictures. It was dark out so I couldn't get real good color but these are two of the alley regulars.

But I want to LIVE!

This was my first attempt (left) to capture the wounds the cat inflicted. I looked like I was showing everyone just how much I wanted to slash my wrists. I edited the photo to protect my vanity - wow what a terrible picture!

I am wounded. Laura Ingalls has an infection and we are giving her antibiotics and tonight I failed. More than an hour later, I can still dab a bit of blood from the moist claw-slash.

Dee isn't home so it was my responsibility and after I stuffed the pill in her mouth and she clawed me viciously, she ran down the hall and on her way, spit out the pill. Meanwhile, I was seeking a paper towel to sop blood off both arms. These pictures are shameless ploys for pity. Cats can be really mean!

Cat Drama - as told by Dee

While I was at work, Dee reported in from the home front:

Lots of cat drama this morning. First off, I found a flea on Vegas, so a round of spraying ensued, followed by much hissing and complaining.

Then I sprayed Daisy. She didn't mind as much.

The outside cats had their share of drama as well. I was spraying Laura when I heard a round of hissing and spitting in the front yard, and there I saw that Berkley had chased the Tuxedo Cat up into the tree and they were having a Stare-Off, with Berkley parked at the base of the tree and the Tuxedo Cat on a branch. Staring at each other, twitching their BIG tails, acting angry. Must be a territory fight.

Of course when the outside cats started fighting, OUR cats chose to take sides and stood at the glass door, hissing and yeowling like they were possessed. Every single cat had a big tail.

Lots of cat drama.

What more can I say? Dee has told the story so well.

(I couldn't find any cats with angry big tails.)

Springtime in Moberly, Part II

I have taken more pictures of spring in a town of flowering trees. I can't even take enough pictures - they are everywhere. Here's a slide show of them.

Cat of Moberly

Here is one of the newly seen cats. We haven't named him. He didn't have a collar the first time we saw him but now he's sporting a pink one, just so people know, I guess, that although this cat doesn't have the luxury of living indoors, that someone lays claim to him. He isn't feral - although males are friendlier anyway, he is all about communication. He has something to say, that's for sure and he is all about saying it! He wants to be petted and has sat on Dee's lap. He comes out from under the shed into the back yard and although he doesn't want to interact with Daisy, he isn't really afraid of her. He just avoids her. He has a funky left eye. It's as if it doesn't have a pupil or something. We think he "belongs" to the people who just moved into the yellow and green house. He seems to run there when we're in the process of leaving in cars and closing the garage door.

Berkeley is that you?

The alley cats are out and about. There are some familiar faces - Berkeley, Pepperdine, and Mae West. Dee says Pepperdine is smart and Berkeley is a liberal. Mae West is to be respected for her tenacity (that broken leg is poignant.) There are new faces too. A tuxedo cat who's real vocal and a grey tabby who is most elusive. These two are as yet un-named. No sign of Stumpy. We can only hope... The alley cats are for the most part feral. They aren't tame at all. You can't touch them. This picture of Berkeley was taken from halfway down the alley. She is more than glad to come eat some food but don't approach! She's tiny. Pepperdine is small too - but has longer hair so she's puffier. These cats run into all of the yards and under woodpiles, into cracks and holes and under sheds. They are cat-rats, scrounging around. It's not an easy life for them.