Day 132: Meet Greyson

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 132: Meet Greyson

Isn’t he cute? His name is Greyson and we adopted him from a Toronto Cat Rescue foster mother last Friday. Let me explain how this adoption came about.

On December 4, 2017 Mickey, our 13 year old tuxedo cat crossed Rainbow Bridge quite expectantly. He had trouble breathing, we took him to the vet thinking he had a cold, but he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. To ease his suffering we had him put down right there and then.

His passing left such a void that after two weeks I started looking to adopt another cat. While I would have liked to go for an adult cat, I doubted that the rest of our gang would accept such a newcomer. So it would have to be a kitten. 

I visited the Toronto Cat Rescue website and found Ella, a beautiful white kitten with grey patches and a grey tail. We adopted her on January 4^th from Jackie, her foster mom. Ella was renamed Halley and Jackie, her foster mom and I stayed in touch with emails and photos.

   

Two weeks ago, Jackie sent me a picture of Truffle, a kitten she was fostering. As soon as I saw Truffle I thought ‘OMG that is such a cutie’. The following Friday afternoon we visited Jackie for afternoon tea and we got to meet Truffle. He was even more adorable for real than in his picture and a real heart stealer. The long and the short of it is … we adopted Truffle last Friday and renamed him Greyson.

When I introduced Greyson to Charlotte, Gabriel, Holly and Halley things went more or less as expected … Charlotte was terrified of the newcomer and ran to my bedroom; Gabriel took one whiff of the little one and decided he wasn’t worth bothering with; Holly hissed and turned her back on him, while Halley looked like she’d seen a ghost.

From what I read online, a new pet should be kept in a separate room and introduced to resident pets gradually. This is probably good advice, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to lock the little one in the bedroom and leave him all alone. I would just have to chance it. I wasn’t worried, I knew I had to give Charlotte, Gabriel, Holly and Halley time to get used to this new addition to the family, but I was confident that everything would be alright.

After just 24 hours, Charlotte, Gabriel and Holly started to warm up to Greyson. They were still weary of him, but their curiosity got the better of them. Halley on the other hand wanted nothing to do with this newcomer, she didn’t even want to stay in the same room as him. Practically the whole of Saturday she spent on the balcony, only venturing inside to eat and use her litter box.

Oh dear, I thought, this is not going well. I had expected that Halley would embrace little Greyson as a friend, since they are both kittens. Admittedly, Halley is 10 months old and Greyson is 8 weeks old, but technically they are both kittens.

Then suddenly on Sunday Halley had a change of heart. Not only did she come inside, she actually sought out Greyson and started keeping an eye on him.

Today, a week later, Halley and Greyson are inseparable. Don’t ask me what happened but as from last Monday those two are the best of friends. Where you see Greyson, you see Halley, where you see Halley you see Greyson and on the rare occasion that Greyson makes a dash for freedom, Halley goes looking for him.

Just goes to show, I didn’t follow the new pet introduction rules, but as predicted, everything turned out to be okay.

Day 66: Rest in peace Mickey – (2007 – 2017)

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 66: Rest in peace Mickey – (2007 – 2017)

Today’s post is dedicated to Mickey, whom we lost yesterday December 6^th.

Mickey came to live with us after mom passed away and dad decided to move to a retirement home. A new home had to be found for Mickey. I didn’t even bother looking for a home for him, because I knew right away that Mickey would come to live with me. Not only would he receive all the love and attention he deserved, my dad would have peace of mind that Mickey would be well looked after.

A cat carrier and a plane ticket was bought, and when I returned from Belgium to Canada, Mickey came with me. He handled the trip like a pro. But that was Mickey alright, he was a relaxed cat, nothing bothered him.

Upon arrival in Toronto, he was welcomed by Dieter and once home he immediately got along with the other cats. He went from being an only child to having brothers and sisters and he loved it.

After exploring his new home, he took up residence in an armchair, and that for years to come was his favorite spot. Not that he didn’t try other places, he sampled the coffee table, the side table, the top of the armoire, the sideboard and of course, Dieter and my bed.

When we adopted Gabriel a few weeks after Mickey’s arrival, Mick was there to welcome the little one and he became daddy. Gabriel thought Mickey was his mommy and occasionally sucked the nipples on Mickey’s belly. Mick probably thought ... what a confused little kitten this is, but good old Mick took it in his stride.

Mickey was not a very active cat or even playful cat. He did like to chase a laser light, but other than that he preferred watching the others play with a ball or a mouse rather than taking part in the game.

Neither was Mickey a very vocal cat. Not once did we hear him meow, the most that ever came out of his mouth was a high pitched “E”. He could carry a conversation though. When we mimicked his little “e” sound, he would reply, over and over again.

Mickey loved attention though. At least once a day he would come and sit next to me or Dieter and start headbutting us. This was our cue to stroke his back and rub his head and cheeks. Oh how he loved to have his cheeks rubbed. I didn’t actually have to move my hand, he twisted his head this way and that way so that the top of his head, his cheeks and under his chin all got attention. It carried on for so long that eventually we had to say “Okay Mick, that’s enough.”

Another thing he loved was going to the bathroom with us. Every time, every single time, one of us got up to use the bathroom and Mickey heard the door closing, he would go running to join whoever used the room. He could be fast asleep, but when he heard the light switched on and the door closing, he was wide awake and went running. Eventually, it turned into a bit of a joke. When one of us had to go, we would say “Mick, are you coming?” and he did.

Mickey also like to watch certain activities such as dish washing and window washing. I called him inspector Mickey. Or when potatoes were peeled and resting in cold water, he would come and have a look, even touching the water.

One of his habits was ‘washing’ his paws after he had used the litter box. He did it every single time. He would use his box, step out of it, go to the nearest wall and make a scratching movement (presumably to get the sand off his paws).

All in all he was a healthy cat who never saw the inside of a vet’s office. My folks took his to their local vet of course for his shots and to have him neutered, but here in Canada, he was never sick. As it turned out, his first visit to our local vet was also his last. Two days ago I noticed that Mickey a trouble breathing. I suspected that he had a cold and took him to the vet for an exam and medication. X-rays revealed that Mickey’s chest was full of fluids and he had an irregular heartbeat. An operation, after care and medication would not only have cost thousands of dollars, but would bring Mickey great discomfort as the fluid would most certainly return. So I made the decision to let Mick go in peace.

Now that he’s gone he is missed. I woke up this morning and he wasn’t there at the footend of my bed. I went to the bathroom to shower and he didn’t follow me. His armchair is empty.

I hereby would like to thank everybody who responded to today’s earlier announcement of Mickey’s passing. The messages of condolences haven’t stopped. That’s one thing of Facebook friends, when something happens, they are there to comfort and support. I guess everybody knows what it’s like to lose a loved one.

Below a selection of Mickey’s greatest hits ...

 

Rest in peace Mickey

Flowers from Birchmount Veterinary Clinic

Day 47: Cats and their quirks

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 47: Cats and their quirks

Today is one of those rare days that I have nothing to do. No articles to write, no emails to answer, no research to do, and the prompt I’m supposed to write about doesn’t appeal to me. So, I’ll do what I always do when I’m short on inspiration … I write about my cat family, you could call them my four muses.

Right this moment, the fire alarm is being tested in my condo building. A series of sharp peep, peep, peep, sounds amounting to several decibels fit to pierce an eardrum.

While this is merely annoying for me, my cats are terrified of this noise. Charlotte is hiding under the duvet of my bed, Mickey is under the bed, Holly is more annoyed than scared that she can’t go to sleep, and Gabriel … well, Gabriel is Gabriel, he couldn’t care less. As far as Gabe is concerned, the fire alarm could be accompanied by an earthquake and a tornado and he wouldn’t care. As long as he has his basket it’s alright with him.

On the subject of sleeping … last night I came close to waking up Dieter. He was snoring again. Before I go any further, let me explain.

There was a time that Dieter snored every night, and by snoring, I mean SNORING. Several times a night, I had to get out of bed to go and wake him up because even with the door of his bedroom closed, the noise came through the walls to the point that it woke me out of a sound sleep.

He tried nose strips, I tried earplugs … nothing helped. Then I read that snoring is often caused by dry air in the bedroom. When I mentioned this to Dieter, he went and bought a humidifier. And low and behold, it worked. From day one, no more snoring. So, from then on, night after night Dieter switched on his humidifier and we were both able to get a good night sleep.

Until last night that is. Shortly after he’d gone to bed, I heard snoring. This surprised me because all these months he’d been so quiet. Did he perhaps forget to switch on his humidifier?

I was about to get up when I noticed that the snoring noise didn’t come from Dieter’s bedroom but from the armchair in the living room. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t Dieter who was snoring, it was Charlotte. Yes, believe it or not, Charlottes' snores resembled a chainsaw!

When I mentioned this to Dieter he nodded in agreement. He knows all too well that Charlotte snores. When she sleeps with him on the foot end of his bed, he frequently has to give her a nudge when her snoring gets too loud.

As for Mickey … Mick is a fairly relaxed cat. He's clearly tired today, but he hasn’t forgotten yesterday’s drama, so he’s a little hesitant about putting his head down. 

That leaves Holly … Holly’s pose says it all. As far as she’s concerned, yesterday's fire alarm testing technicians can kiss her butt.

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Day 9: Animals. Pick an animal and write about it

Day 9: Animals. Pick an animal and write about it.

How about I write not just about one animal, but about four of them? My four cats.

Mickey

Mickey is the eldest and was my parents' cat. When mom died and dad decided to move into a retirement home, a home had to be found for Mickey. I didn’t even try to find a home for him because I knew nothing and nobody would be good enough. Mickey would come to Canada with me. Not only would he be loved and be safe, my dad would have peace of mind that his cat would be happy for the rest of his life.

Mickey adjusted from day one. While he used to be an only child, now he had the company of other cats and assumed the role of papa cat.

Charlotte

Charlotte was born an accident. A couple adopted two cats, they assumed that both were male, but apparently, they didn’t look very closely because sometime later one of the cats was pregnant. Family and friends adopted the kittens, but one kitten stayed behind. The couple was about to contact a cat rescue organization when I showed up. After that, there was no need to contact the organization. I took one look at the kitten and decided that she would live with me.

Despite the love and care Charlotte received, she is a scary cat. Afraid of the vacuum cleaner, afraid of the wind, terrified of thunder, and of a number of other things. You could say that she’s afraid of her own shadow.

Gabriel

Gabriel was born to a breeder of Ragdolls. In principle, I don’t approve of designer cats. Thousands of cats are waiting to be adopted and often lose their life because nobody wants them. So why go spending $1,000 or more on a purebred cat? Not that I did. By pure chance, I came across an ad online of a breeder who finished with the breeding business. When I talked to him he said that he was keeping his cats, but that from now on they would only be pets. However, he did have a kitten left that he couldn’t place. Did I want it? Did I want it! I went over to his place like a bow from an arrow and when I saw the kitten I wondered why nobody wanted this adorable little thing. “He’s not perfect,” the breeder said. “He’s ….” I didn’t hear the rest because I was already cuddling the little one.

Gabriel is a bit of an aloof cat and only wants to be cuddled when it suits him, and only when our hands are clean. I'm not kidding, when I reach for him, he pulls back and sniffs my hand. When he's done sniffing he'll present his cheek. He's very sweet though, every night, around 10:30 he'll jump next to Dieter in the chair and demand to be petted. He looks at Dieter and cries, something that sounds like "Mayo!"

Holly

Holly is the baby of the family. I went down to the management office of our condo building one day and walked in on a conversation that someone had dumped a box of kittens on a ground floor balcony. The woman who had taken the kittens in was looking for good homes for them. Within 24 hours all the kittens had found homes, one of them mine. I took one look at this little fuzzball and decided she could live with us. She received a bath upon arrival, was taken to the vet and declared in perfect health.

Holly's nickname is Ms. Pepperpot. While she's a sweet cat, she does have a bit of a temper. She's very vocal, and growls and even hisses. She hisses especially when she's kissed. For some reason, she doesn't like that.

In addition to these four cats, I am a fundraiser for the Toronto Cat Rescue shelter cats. Every year, for the past ten years I take part in the organization’s Bowl-a-thon. We raise funds for the cats and kittens and then all get together for an afternoon of bowling. This year we raised just under $25,000. Should you wish to adopt a cat or kitten or make a donation, the website is:  https://torontocatrescue.ca/

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Wondering about the intelligence of birds

I’ve come to wonder about the intelligence of finches. A pair of them is making a nest on my balcony.

If my balcony were like any other balcony, I would say okay, it’s a perfectly nice spot for them, but it isn’t. I live on the 11^th floor of a condo building with 192 units, which means 192 balconies. 20 of those balconies are fitted with netting, to keep pets and children safe.

This means that this pair of birds had 172 balconies to choose from to make their nest, but no, they apparently like a challenge because they choose my netting fitted balcony. They have found a way to get in and out and have been flying to and from a place where they get materials for their nest.

For a couple of days Mr. Finch came to check the place out first, then he brought Mrs. Finch and apparently she approved. They were twittering up a storm, pecking their way through the netting to take a closer look and since that day have been flying in and out to prepare a home for their expected little finches.

Why do I doubt their intelligence … because I have four cats! Two of them, Charlotte and Gabriel couldn’t care less about these tiny birds, but with the other two, Mickey and Holly, the birds have their full attention. They sit on the ledge of the balcony, waiting for the couple to visit, licking their lips in anticipation.

Do the birds care? Not at all. They land on the netting, move their heads sideways to look at the cats, and proceed to come inside anyway to land on this wrath, the place they’ve chosen to make a nest.

Why couldn’t they have gone someplace else? A place more easily accessible and without the threat of cats?

When I looked online there are several ways to attract finches, two of them, placing feeders in easily accessible places and providing them with a water bowl. I didn’t do either of these things, yet to me, the finches come.

------------

Meanwhile, don't forget to donate to the Toronto Cat Rescue. Shelter cats need your help. Any amount is appreciated but donations of $20 or more receive a tax receipt.

Donations can be made to my PayPal address at:
conny.manero@gmail.com
or at
https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/toronto-cat-rescue/bowlathon/team/thebirds/mem

Friday is Cat Dat - Sink Appeal

Most cats are afraid of water, 

yet the kitchen or bathroom sink holds a magical appeal.

Charlotte ... 

Tap water is so much better from the tap than from a bowl.

Gabriel ... 

the dishes will have to wait.

Mickey ...

Unidentified stationary objects

Mickey ... 

Don't even think of opening that tap

Chanel ...

I don't care for sinks, I prefer the top of the fridge

Holly ...

I don't care for sinks either, I prefer the inside of the fridge. 

But where did all the food go?

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Goodbye Kiki, hello Zippy

Recently I learned from a friend that she called her Beta fish JC (short for Jackie Chan).  Even though JC swims alone in an aquarium and thus has nobody to fight with, everyone knows that Beta fish are fighters and that Jackie Chan is a fighter, hence the name is appropriate.

Whenever we adopted a cat, finding a name was never a problem. 

Chanel was named after Coco Chanel, creator of the famous Chanel No. 5 perfume.  Since Chanel was our fifth cat, the name was perfect.

Charlotte had a mischievous grin on her face when we first met and she reminded me of an ex-colleague named Charlotte who was always up to something.

Mickey came to us with a name.  After mom died and dad decided to move to a retirement home, a home had to be found for Mick.  I knew right away that I was bringing Mickey to Canada because I didn’t trust strangers with him.

Gabriel looked angelic when I first saw him.  I was told that he was a fighter though.  Naming him after an archangel was the logical choice.

With our latest addition, we made a bit of a mistake.

When we adopted a four week old bunny, we named her Kiki because she kicked up a storm when held.  Today, barely four days later, we’ve decided that Kiki is not the best name for the creature and we renamed her Zippy.

If you were to see her move, you would understand why.  While most of the time she hops, if she gets playful she zips from here to there.  Quick as lightning she is and catching her (during her roaming free time) is near impossible.  The best thing to do is to wait until she gets tired and then make a move.

How do we know where Zippy is?  All we have to do is look for Mickey, he follows her around like a big brother.

Gabriel sniffs her and when she gets on his nerves, he swats her with his tail.  If she doesn’t get the message, he sits on her.  If she happens to be under his butt, so be it.

Charlotte is still a little wary of the newcomer and keeps her distance.  If Zippy crosses the line, she gets hissed at. 

As for Chanel … she’s scared of her own shadow, so when she first set eyes on Zippy she ran like a bat from hell.  Soon her curiosity got the better of her though and very carefully she had a closer look at Zippy.  Today they’re not really friends yet, but she lets Zippy sniff her tail.

I’m confident this will have a happy ending.

Meanwhile, here are some pictures of the little trouble maker.

 A shoulder can be quite comfortable

You heard of grumpy cat ... this is me, grumpy bunny

Smells like chicken 

                                                Mickey is inspecting Zippy's accommodation 

                                                  (can be extended when Zippy gets bigger)