Cat Psychology 101

Day 358: The general recommendation for length of time a 6-month old kitten needs to wear a recovery collar after neutering is 10-14 days. I had planned to leave Merry in his soft collar for the full 14, but the incisions had healed nicely and the scabs were starting to flake off on their own, so I liberated him about 36 hours early. That said, I still wanted to distract him from working too vigorously at the site, so in advance, I had bought him a "recovery gift": a crinkly, crackly tunnel. It's been hidden until today and in fact, I almost forgot about it and was sidetracking him with the Stick game, but I remembered after an hour or so and unpackaged the tunnel. He took to it immediately, playing with the dangly ball, going in and out through the side window, playing with Stick through the hole until he was so thoroughly worn out that he phlooomphed in a sunspot and is currently enjoying a nap. "Phlooomphed?" Yes. We have my sister-of-the-heart Patty to thank for that word with its triple "o." It replaces "flopped" which, after all, really belonged to my sweet Tippy as part of our bedtime routine.

Christmas-Card Redtail

Day 67: A few days ago, I was making my Christmas deliveries and as I pulled into a friend's yard, I noticed this Red-tailed Hawk weighing down a lichen-covered fruit tree branch. As always, I had the camera handy, but the light was poor and the hawk was too far away to be within preferred zoom range. I've done quite a bit of post-processing on this image to bring out sufficient detail to confirm the identification, so the photo is not up to my usual standards. That said, most of you already know that I've been dealing with dental issues, so I wasn't able to get out into the field this week. Today, I am slated for a rather involved oral surgery and probably won't be feeling exactly chipper for a couple of weeks while I'm healing up. I intend to keep up my daily posts, but I beg your indulgence if they aren't up to par. Mr. Red-tail will have to suffice for a Christmas greeting since I'm unlikely to be out on any serious walks in the near future.

Pillow Provided

Day 43: There are only a few days left of Tippy's tenure in the Cone of Shame, so I feel compelled to explain that certain concessions to comfort have had to be provided at the expense of my trying to get anything else done. He has been such a good boy throughout the ordeal, first allowing doctor to perform surgery with only a local anaesthetic and then not protesting the Cone in the slightest. He's popped out of it twice accidentally, the first time when it caught the edge of the footstool as he leapt down to the floor and the second when he attempted to get onto the window sill behind the couch and fell between the couch and the wall. He did not resist or struggle when I reinstalled it. I suppose the least I can do is provide a soft pillow even if it means I'm not getting any needlework done. Sound asleep in this photo, he remained in this position for twenty minutes before shifting off my hand.

Never Laugh At A Cat

Day 35: Cats' people must understand one thing in feline psychology if they grasp nothing else: it is the height of rudeness to laugh at a cat, or even to allow the slightest inkling of a snicker to twitch the corners of your mouth. This is not to say that cats are humourless; quite the contrary! Many cats have a well-developed sense of humour, though perhaps on a level which eludes mere humans, manifesting most frequently as dry disdain. Ever have a cat give you "The Look?" That's cat humour. The indignity of the Cone of Shame is one thing and must be borne in good grace, but laughter? No. One must never laugh at a cat, no matter how strongly they resemble a vacuum device of some sort, designed for sucking up cat food on an industrial scale.

The Cone Of Shame

Day 33: We are home. I haven't spoken of this publicly, but when Tip went in for his annual exam last week, I asked his doctor to look at a lump beneath his ear. It had been there for a while, but he'd started fussing at it. She determined that it was more than just a "kitty bump" (cyst) via a punch biopsy which was then sent out for analysis. The return stated that it was a mast-cell tumor. This type of tumor in cats is described as "unpredictable, but usually benign," and due to the unpredictability factor, she recommended removal. However, Tip has a pronounced heart murmur which precludes using general anaesthesia. She thought she'd be able to do it under a local, but nevertheless I was worried. I took him in early this morning. Fifteen minutes later, doctor came out of the operating theater and announced that he had come through just fine. I waited another half hour to get the results of his blood tests - everything normal. Now we wait for the pathology, and meanwhile, good little Tippy who didn't bite or claw anybody has been consigned to the Cone of Shame for two weeks while the incision heals. I expected him to protest, but he seems to be accepting his circumstances with amazingly good grace.