Cherie Priest recommended the furminator on her blog a while back. We’ve been dealing with our two very sheddy cats and keep considering shaving them.

So today, I went out and bought a furminator. My heavens. The thing works exactly as promised. Plus you get the added bonus of getting to say, “Careful, or I’ll furminate you,” or “I furminated Marlowe earlier,” or “Not just now, I’m furminating.”

I mean… really. How can you not love that.

You might remember my cat, Maggie? A couple of years ago, she had a hyperactive thyroid. The treatment involved Iodine131 and we got this handout which said, “Upon release from the hospital, your pet will be mildly radioactive.”

Despite my fond hopes, Maggie never glowed in the dark. But, thanks to modern science, there are glow in the dark cats in the world. That would be the end to tripping over the infernal beast at night.

I really want one.

Really.

I CAN HAZ GLOW-IN-THE-DARK?

I spotted this on Maggie’s journal, but clearly the test doesn’t notice that I’ve moved.

Your Score: PORTLAND!

You scored 28% Style, 24% Climate, and 64% Culture!

You are Portland, Oregon! Portland, the largest city in Oregon and seat of Multnomah County, is located in the northwest part of the state on the Willamette River. Portland has a diverse economy with a broad base of manufacturing, distribution, wholesale and retail trade, regional government, and business services. Major manufacturing industries include machinery, electronics, metals, transportation equipment, and lumber and wood products. Technology is a thriving part of Portland’s economy, with over 1,700 high-tech companies located in the metropolitan area. Tourism is also important to Portland’s economy, drawing more than 7 million visitors annually.

You are a nicely cultured individual, appreciating a good play, book, movie, or fine dining. You also appreciate some diversity, lest things get too boring. Not one for sitting and relaxing for long periods at a time nor dressing up the nines, you take interest in getting outside and being out in nature, enjoying the cool, crisp air…maybe even playing a sport or taking a hike. Portland is a good place to be, my friend.

Last evening Jenny and her fiance, Chris, came for dinner. Well, really, they came to drop off Zoe, their cat, as a trial run for when we take her during their honeymoon. Dinner was just taking advantage of them being here.

I was, to be honest, anticipating some fireworks. When I got Marlowe as a kitten, Maggie hated him so much that if I petted Marlowe and then tried to touch her without washing my hands, she would hiss at me. I’m not making that up. She tolerates him now, more so after the cross-country drive than before.

And Marlowe has never seen another cat, except ones outside the window. His only other experience with other animals have been with dogs that we’ve dogsat. (Boy, that word looks wrong.) Oh, and the mice. Anyway, I had no idea how he would react.

Zoe came right out of her carrier and went up to Marlowe to sniff his nose. He was totally freaked. He had no idea what to do. He only knows this one other cat who beat him up as a kitten–in fact, it’s only in the last year or two that he’s realized that he’s bigger than she is and that she’s old. So, despite the fact that he looks like a giant hulk next to Zoe (also a black cat) he was afraid of her.

Maggie stretched, walked up to Zoe. They sniffed. Then Maggie went to take a nap on the futon. She was so not interested. I think she was just pleased that I hadn’t brought home another dog.

We spent most of dinner watching the cats watch each other. The best moment came after dinner. I wanted to show Jenny and Chris the thing that Marlowe does with the basket. I didn’t think he’d do it, because there was so much strangeness. Man, he saw the basket and beelined across the room to sink his face into it. He immediately sank into his “I’m invisible” posture and seemed so much more at ease.

Zoe. Zoe clearly thought he was insane.

She crept out from under the bookcase where she had been hiding and stretched out to sniff the basket. Marlowe made one “meep” and she levitated backwards, kindof like, “My god! There really is a cat in that thing!”

After that everyone settled into a good routine of ignoring each other. I saw her this morning when I put her food down, but she’s hiding now. I think she’s in my closet, but I’m not going to fish her out. Jenny and Chris come back to pick her up tonight.

Marlowe caught a mouse today. Suffice to say that the rest of this post will not be for the squeamish.

I think Maggie heard it first, but Marlowe was very persistent and caught it. We let him play with it for a little, hoping for a quick kill. Silly us. He was the gentleman and let Maggie play with the mouse first. It astonished me how gentle she was with it, reaching out with velveted paws to tap it. This phase did not last long, of course.

In all, I don’t think the mouse was in the cats’ possession for much more than a minute. I kept trying to tell myself that this was nature and that I should stop being squeamish. Yeah… that would have been fine if they hadn’t just been toying with the thing. I mean, watching it try to get away with a broken leg was horrible.

So, Rob scooped it up in a tupperware and we discussed the most humane way to kill it. The cats, meanwhile are looking for another mouse.

My suggestion was to wrap it in newspaper and smack it on the head with a hammer. Rob concurred. In her youth, Maggie just presented me with a dead mouse so I’ve never had to make this decision before.

On the whole though, it’s nice that the cats are earning their keep. Right?

We spent today hanging out with Kevin and Shawna. Actually, we started the day by sleeping until almost noon. Only ten minutes remained of the morning when we got up. Shawna had pancakes for us.

Rob and Kevin pulled our bikes out of the truck today (they were on top) and we biked along the Lake Wobegon Trail. Man, it was nice to stretch my legs. The ride is beautiful. There was a giant patch of ladyslippers by the side of the road which my mom would have been gaga over. I wish I’d had the camera on the bike ride with me.

The cats seem fine here. In fact, all guilt that I have felt about keeping them cooped up in the truck has vanished. Maggie has spent the entire day sleeping in one spot. And Marlowe? He found a spot on an empty shelf which is smaller than the carrier he’s been riding in. He’s spent today sleeping in there. He had a brief nose-sniff with Roo, their golden lab, but has otherwise been content to stay in his cave.

We’re planning on hitting the road about 8:00 tomorrow morning and head for Racine.

We arrived in Avon at around 8:00 local time. Rob’s brother, Kevin and his wife Shawna greeted us. We have been plied with wine and Shawna’s delicious cooking. I took a shower and feel much more human.

The cats are ensconced in our room. They seem have settled into the routine nicely. Maggie tends to stay in the “upstairs apartment” which is the open carrier on top. Marlowe alternates between the downstairs and “the cave,” which is the area under our seats. I moved a bunch of stuff to the rear of the truck, since we weren’t using any of it, so that he had more room to hang out. He still gets freaked out by being outside during the day, but last night was hankering to go out. We had them both tied to our luggage inside the tent until we got settled.

Today, I even got them both to play a little bit with string. I don’t know what they make of the whole trip, but they are being remarkably adaptable.

We’ll see how well they let us sleep tonight. I am dragging and looking forward to a day of being stationary. We’ll stay here in Avon until Monday, when it is off to Wisconsin.

Move to NYC–Day 1

We have arrived safely in Salt Lake City. Alas, we had to cancel the dinner with friends because, even getting up at dawn, we still didn’t arrive at Beth’s until after eleven pm. Meanwhile, you can click on the photo above to look at an album–unlabled–of the past two days.

Things we learned today.

1. The truck goes about 60 to 65 mph, except up hills, then it goes 30, if we are lucky, for an average of 50 mph.
2. Marlowe, the cat who escaped outside last night, today exhibited signs of having kitty agoraphobia. He spent the first part of the day with his face pressed into the corner of his cage. He’s doing better now.
3. Maggie thinks that being in the van just means that she gets lots and lots of laptime.
4. Salt Lake City is much farther away if you can’t go 75 mph.
5. Weigh stations are not very exciting.
6. Wild fires make great sunsets.
7. Idaho roads are very bumpy.
8. Bumpy roads will cause the ferring guard to break on a motocycle if you are using it as an anchor.
9. Motorcycles are heavy if you have to tip them back upright.
10. When buying bottled water, make sure you select bottles with lids that screw on instead of ones with a bottle cap.

Maggie is definitely feeling better. I offer the following video as evidence of her general health.

So, we continue to be worried about Maggie because her appetite is still poor and she is moving very cautiously, like an old cat. Now granted, she is old, (17 years) but she usually spry and kittenish. It’s strange to see her act like she’s stiff or tip over like she’s lost her balance. So, today I looked up metronidazole For veterinary use, which is the medication she was on.

• Dogs and cats: Symptoms of overdose of metronidazole include the gastrointestinal signs (anorexia, vomiting) and neurologic signs including depression, ataxia, disorientation, head-tilt, tremors, bradycardia, rigidity, stiffness, and seizures. Neurologic signs may occur due to acute overdose although they are more commonly seen in animals that are on long-term moderate or high doses (oral doses greater than 66 mg/kg/day). Signs of chronic toxicity often begin 7-12 days following the start of treatment. After the drug is discontinued, it may be several days to two weeks before these neurologic signs begin to diminish.

Sigh…

We stopped pilling her today. Maggie’d gotten seven days of the pills, which the vet said was the minimum that she’d like to see. And, since she was getting double-doses… oy. Anyway, we decided to stop, because she’d stopped eating.

I spent the morning hanging out with Christina and in the evening, Rob and I went to the store to pick up some wet cat food to tempt Maggie. Lo! She ate. Thank heavens. Marlowe is, of course, wondering why he doesn’t get the same treats she does. Silly kitty. I offered to wrap him in a towel and shove butter down his throat, but he doesn’t seem interested.

After I dropped my computer off, I stopped by the vet’s today. I wanted to pick up a syringe to shoot water down Maggie’s throat, hoping that it would help with everything. The vet came out to talk to me, because I was a little distressed about the pilling the cat ritual. I explained that Maggie seemed to have stopped eating; her bowl was completely full when I went down to feed them this morning. Since the cats only get fed once a day, it was fairly suspicious.

The vet nodded, “If she’s not eating; then you may need to bring her back in.”

“I don’t think she’s getting sicker; I think she’s depressed.”

Across the waiting room a black cat yowled as if someone were killing him right there. His owner tried to reassure him, but the cat didn’t speak English. Neither does Maggie, so I can’t tell her what the vet said–that if she doesn’t finish the antibiotics, she could develop a super-resistant strain of stomach bug.

“I know.” I nodded. Years ago, I’d wanted to be a vet; I hated being the neurotic pet owner now. “It’s just that I feel like I’m making things worse.”

“Well, if the half-tablets are too large, try cutting them into quarters and see if she’ll take it with some soft food.”

I blinked. “Half-tablets? We’ve been giving her whole tablets.”

Looking down at her chart, the vet said, “Half tablet every twelve hours. Fortunately it’s a very mild medicine, so it’s not dangerous.”

It still made me feel ill. I mean, misreading medication like that could have been fatal. “So, instead of having three more days, I have six more days?”

“Right. But if we can get at least seven days of antibiotics and if the symptoms have stopped, then it’s probably safe to stop the pills. It’s better to finish the round, but if it’s making her miserable you can stop after seven days.”

I thanked her and biked home with my handy syringe. Rob was waiting for me, so we could do her morning pilling. I told him what the vet said and then I grabbed the bottle of pills.

The label said, “One pill every twelve hours.”

One. Not half. I called the vet’s office, related my story and learned that the label was wrong. So, on the one hand, there’s a measure of relief, because I didn’t misread the instructions. On the other hand, I’m ticked. I mean, hello? It’s lucky that it was a “mild” medication because I could have hurt my cat.

The half-pill is, surprise, easier to get down Maggie’s throat. The routine goes like this. I butter the pill and then we stick it in the freezer (thanks, Christina), which helps keep the coating from melting. I grab Maggie and swaddle her in a towel, sitting on the kitchen floor. Holding her on her back, I brace her while Rob pries her mouth open and shoves the pill back as far as he can. She cries. He squirts water down her throat, which forces her to swallow. It does seem to help.

Both pilling sessions went well today. But–but we have to do it for twice as long as we thought we did. Or…or we quit after seven days. And poor Maggie has no idea why we decided to start torturing her.

Poor kitty.

Butter makes the medicine go down. After another horrific experience pilling Maggie, I called the vet to see how bad it would be to not finish the medication. Normally, I’m a big fan of following the doctor’s orders, but Maggie was hiding from us. Her fur was lank and matted from the dried froth–I’m not even exaggerating–and I felt like we were torturing her.

The vet suggested coating the pill in butter, because it would seal in the bitterness and also make it slippery. Willing to try anything, I buttered the pill. Lo! It worked! She was even licking her lips and climbed into my lap afterwards. Such relief for all of us.

Edited to add: Well, it worked this morning. At the moment Maggie has a handle-bar mustache of foam.

Poor Maggie. She’s been having some digestive issues of late and the vet has given us a round of pills to sort her out. So for the next week, we have to poke a pill down her throat twice a day. This is bad enough, but if we don’t get it down the first time and the coating comes off, the pill makes her froth at the mouth. It is one of the funniest things I’ve seen in quite a while. My poor, beautiful, delicate cat with this giant head of foam around her mouth, glaring balefully at everything that moves. Oooooh she hates us, she does.

I picked this up from Vylar Kaftan. The point is to type your answers to the questions into Google Images and then post the first picture listed in the returns. All of this should make it blatantly clear what my answer to Number 5 is, even if the visual answer were not so dead-on.

1. Your age on your next birthday:	2. Your favorite color:	3. Your middle name:
4. The last meal you ate:	5. Your bad habit:	6. Your favorite fruit or vegetable:
7. Your favorite animal:	8. The town you live in:	9. The name of your pets:
10. SO/best friend’s name:	11. Your crush’s name:	12. Your occupation:
13. Your birth city:	14. Your favorite song: