Today's flashback is of LC when she was a kitten...
I am presenting it not for this date in the past as I usually do with flashbacks, but because I was in Petsmart a few days ago and saw her twin. Up for adoption. An adult cat wanting a home...
And then I saw her kitten twin in the next cage playing wildly with a rattle ball. Wanting a home. I wanted to take them both home.
I didn't. When I adopted Marley, he brought peace between Ayla and Iza. I am reluctant to take the chance of disturbing the peace. And I know how many cats I can properly take care of. I know what my litterbox maintenance abilities are, etc...
I admire those who can care for more, but I think my limit is 3. I had more cats once and struggled with them, finally having to find good homes for half of them. And that was hard to do, letting a few go elsewhere to care better for the others.
But it sure was hard to walk away from both of those sweet black/white ones at Petsmart. They both pulled at my heart...
So I guess I post today thinking of both those cats. The adult who put her paw on the glass looking at me. The kitten playing with her one toy... I could imagine the adult asking "Are you the one who will take me away to a forever home". And the kitten saying "See how playful I am, can I be in your home"?
It was SO hard to leave the store...
Showing posts with label LC Young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LC Young. Show all posts
Friday, November 15, 2019
Saturday, August 26, 2017
11th Blogiversary
Its our 11TH BLOGIVERSARY today. Well, maybe. TBT says the very first post on Aug 25, 2006 dint quite post right, but did get posted Aug 26th but with the 25th date on it. So this year we are celebrating today.
HERE is the 1st post...
We decided that we would show the earliest picture TBT had of each of us...
So we have an early picture of Skeeter. That remote is only 6" long...
And LC on one of her first days... She was a skinny kitty then.
And of us... Ayla as a kitten...
Iza was not so happy about being here at first. She hid unner the bed
fer a few days. This was her 3rd house in about 6 months (born in one,
bought as a Queen by another, then here). She was probably wondering if
this one was her real home. Well, yes, it is.
Marley was right out there though...
He came right out and went to work calming the house. Some cats know their purpose in life, and Marley is one of them. When there is a hiss between Ayla an Iza, Marley moves right in between them to keep the peace. And if the doorbell rings, Marley moves right to the top of the stairs and growls. Peacekeeper and guardian both.
It is hard to believe it has been 11 years...
HERE is the 1st post...
We decided that we would show the earliest picture TBT had of each of us...
So we have an early picture of Skeeter. That remote is only 6" long...
And of us... Ayla as a kitten...
Marley was right out there though...
He came right out and went to work calming the house. Some cats know their purpose in life, and Marley is one of them. When there is a hiss between Ayla an Iza, Marley moves right in between them to keep the peace. And if the doorbell rings, Marley moves right to the top of the stairs and growls. Peacekeeper and guardian both.
It is hard to believe it has been 11 years...
Thursday, August 25, 2016
10th Blogoversary
THE BIG THING HERE: Well, we have finally reached it... Today represents our 10th year of blogging.
It wasn't a specific goal. When we started 10 years ago with Skeeter and LC they were already 14 and 13 respectively. They knew all about doors, windows, fences, and stuff, but had never had to try to put them in words before. It was interesting to discover how they thought about those things.
They didn't really know much about me either. I learned that they referred to me as "The Big Thing" and weren't sure what kind of animal I was since they never met many others except Vets, repairmen, and a few friends and family. In fact, they were amazed I ever met any of my family, since they hadn't seen any of theirs since they were small kittens.
Bein words came hard to them at first, and in fact, I mostly had to interpret their general thoughts. It was a while before they started writing more on their own, and even then, I had to do a lot of editing. They thought I was mostly there to manage their household and do the things they couldn't, like opening food cans and cleaning litterboxes. It seemed completely normal to them that some odd critter existed just to fulfill their needs. If that's all one knows, why not think that?
So I'll talk about our first blogging years with them...
Skeeter came to me in 1992 and LC in 1993. Both from a small local pet store. Both at Halloween. I didn't know much about such places then. Such places do not exist around here anymore.
I've told the stories of them before, but wish to do so again. I went to the pet store to find a female Siamese. No offense to gray tabby cats, but I had had them all my adult life (and loved each one greatly) but I wanted something different. We had had 2 Siamese female cats when I was young and I wanted one myself. The pet store was being renovated. There was horrible dust and noise everywhere!
There was only one kitten in the place. Terrified by the noise and dust, trembling alone in its (rather decently spacious) cage. I took one look at him in his misery and said "Kitten, I'm getting you OUT of here NOW!
I don't know how long he had been in that cage. I don't know how long he had been alone. I do know that the moment I let him out of the cardboard box the sellers had put him into to send him off with me, he ran frantically out and found a cutout spot under the kitchen cabinets that let air escape from a floor vent they covered. The space was only 6" high bit 2'x2' wide and deep. A lot of room for a kitten hiding.

And I know he was forever terrified of trash can bags, I made some guesses about how some kittens might have "gone away" in his experience. But I was never sure. I simply made certain not to "pop" any open when he was around. He couldn't tell me why, and I couldn't ask. To this day, I very carefully open trash bags and slowly push them into the kitchen trash bin when no cats are around.
He stayed in there for 3 days. He was so terrified that he pooped and peed in there and still stayed there. I pushed bowls of food and water in there. And then left the food bowls just a little outside the opening. Then further out. And I would sit there in the evening talking quietly to him.
He finally came out a bit and sniffed my fingers (which I had dipped in some food). Eventually he came out and carefully sniffed me (the unfooded parts). I set a hand within reach and he slowly crawled under it and I gave some gentle strokes and scritches.
His whole world turned around immediately. He stayed out of the cabinet vent cutout, and stayed near me all day. In fact, I couldn't get away from him! He stayed as close to me as a starving mosquito. And that's how he got his name. When I was a kid, we called mosquitoes "skeeters".
So I called him "Skeeter".
I still had Tinkerbelle at the time. She was a bit mean. I got her from my sister Susie after Tinkerbelle had been injured by a dog and had started to claw both her and the baby at any offense. Tinker and I got along because I was a bit more forgiving of claws and because I learned how to give her strokes and sneak over the injured spots.
Skeeter had to adjust to Tinker... I think he became friendly and diplomatic because of dealing with Tinker. I was working a job that meant I left the house at 6 am every day and only returned at 6 pm. So he had to deal with "Mean Old Tinker" all day when I was gone.
He came running to me every evening as I returned home. He climbed up me (ouch) to get to my face. Every critter who loves you wants to be at face level. I indulged the climbing. Skeeter sat on my shoulder as I prepared his food but also when I wasn't. He wanted facetime and I gave it. He slept under the covers with me all his years.
The following Halloween, I decided that Skeeter needed a friend since I was away half every day. I went back to the same pet store. It was nice and quiet then and there were 2 kittens in the front cage. I still wanted a female Siamese but they didn't have any. But one calico kitten was gorgeous and friendly and I said I wanted that one. Turned out she was already sold and just being held as a wedding present for a couple who were on a honeymoon cruise.
I'm not one for delayed gratification in certain areas. Like wanting a kitten. The other kitten was a black and white. And she was NOT friendly. Any side of the cage I went to, she moved to the other. I recognized a fiesty spirit! I have never had any cat who didn't love me, so I wasn't worried about that.
I said "I'll take her" and between the shopowner and I, we slowly pried her claws off the cage mesh one by one until she came loose. Into their cardboard box she went.
When released at home, she went for the same undercabinet spot Skeeter had hidden in. I guess it is a obvious spot to a kitten. But this time Skeeter sat there and talked to her. Which was perfect, because she wasn't MY cat, she was Skeeter's. I was still away most of the day after all. I wanted Skeeter and the new one to orient to each other.
But she did need a name, and I give a lot of thought to names. You should have seen me starting computer quest games in the 90s where you had some group of skilled characters and they all needed names. I spent a day deciding on names, and those games only lasted a month!
So I thought and thought. And don't laugh that "Skeeter's Cat" came to mind. But with the help of a special co-worker I considered that her black/white markings looked a bit like a cow's. So I decided first on "Little Cow", but then made it just the initials, LC.
LC adored Skeeter, and Skeeter protected her from Mean Old Tinkerbelle. Skeeter and LC became inseparable. They napped together, they ate together, they went outside together, they played with toys together.

In 1999, Tinkerbelle was outside and didn't come back when I called her as I was leaving to go fishing with a friend. That wasn't unusual. She often stayed away all day off in some local places of her own. But I never saw her again. She was failing in health at 16 or 17. She may have left to go find a spot to die. All I know is that no neighbor said they saw a dead kitty on the street and I never heard a meow when I walked the streets for days and nights calling her name. Such things happen, and I missed her. WE got along.
Skeeter and LC didn't miss her and I can hardly blame them. They were happy together having the whole house in peace while I was away and having my attention each evening. That went on until 2006 when I retired. They were thrilled I was there every day and they got fed better food more often. Well, I couldn't very well give them canned food for lunch when I wasn't there before. My retirement in 2006 was the start of the best days of the lives. It didn't last long enough, but those were good days..
And I am just NOW getting to the blog itself, LOL!
My last couple years at work, I had discovered a couple of cat-blogs. I followed Max, The Psychokitty daily. AHe was amazing to me. And another couple that sadly escape my recollection. But one had a button that said "Start Free Blog". After a few months of retirement, I clicked the button. And it seemed workable.
So away we went In August 25, 2006; Me, Skeeter, and LC. It was hard. It was confusing. It was tricky. I couldn't figure out how things worked. It was days before I learned how to allow comments and then to read them, and more before I could post a picture. But I did eventually and it wasn't as easy back then.
Our first commentors were The Meezers (they are honored forever for that here) and Max himself announced us to the world.
Sadly, Skeeter was already 14 at that time and LC was 13. Skeeter's last year on the blog just over a year later was hard, with accidents all around the house, eating problems, and confusion. The Good Vet said he wasn't feeling pain, but when he started to lean against the walls to stay upright, it would be "his time".
That time came December 10, 2008, only 2 years into his blogging time. He left for The Bridge after the sedative shot looking peacefully into my eyes as I wept while holding him.
LC went suddenly at home 13 months later from some sort of stroke. I found her in the basement and rushed her to the vet. She seems to have roused briefly there but was gone before I could arrive back.
They are both buried in the flowerbed, with markers.
Thus ended the story of Skeeter and LC, the reasons I started the blog...
But before Skeeter left, I had found the Siamese female I had originally looked for. And she was perfect for me. Unwanted by the breeder because she was too small to breed, I offered a good home because I wasn't interested in breeding. She nearly GAVE her to me. I named her "Ayla" after a character in a book and I had been saving that name for 20 years.
Skeeter loved Ayla when she first arrived as he had LC years before. He was a wonderful caring cat. But he lost track of her after he faded a few months later. LC and Ayla were hissy.
LC missed Skeeter so very much. She wanted her big orange brother back. It was a week before she climbed up on my lap. She had never done that before. I gave her much attention, and she appreciated it. She even came up onto the bed and slept next to me. No one can say that cats don't miss companions or that they can't seek comfort where they haven't before a loss. I was the 2nd choice after Skeeter and I didn't mind that a bit.
LC followed Skeeter over The Bridge in January 2010. They were almost identical ages. of 16 and 1/2 At that time, I realized that naming the cat blog after specific cats ("Skeeter and LC") was a bad idea in the long term. Well, it never really occurred to me that I would still be blogging by the time they left for The Bridge... I thought for a week about a new name for the blog. I finally came up with "Mark's Mews".
I called the breeder and got Iza just a few days later. She was a very relaxed cat.
She came out from under the bed after just a day, and immediately attached herself to me.
Mews means variously "Meows", "a place where people live with animals", a "hideaway", and a "small street". And the homonym "muse" because they gave me so much thought and inspiration... So there is the cats, I live with them, we are kind of solitary, and we live on a short dead end street. And my name is "Mark". So "Mark's Mews"... And it will never have to change.
So there was Ayla and Iza for a while. But they were hissy with each other in spite of the Felliway and attention. So, illogical as it seems, I decided I needed another orange male cat. Skeeter had been so great at keeping peace in the house. I looked at many animal shelter cats.
But they always came as brothers and those would have already become attached mostly to each other. I needed a single. With help, I found one. The owner had been given an orange/white male cat for Christmas and discovered she was allergic to cats. I saw the picture of the cat and fell in love.
And it wasn't easy to get him. She said he had been promised to a family with children. I pointed out that I was retired and could attend to him 24/7, that I bought only the best foods, that I played toys daily, that I had a yard surrounded by a fence that he couldn't get out of (which turned out to be false) and would have a wonderful time catching mice within.
She changed her mind and I went to visit her. He had 1 toy. He was fed cheap dry food. She called him down from upstairs and he came right down the stairs and looked at me. I sat down on the floor. He crawled onto my lap and purred loudly and accepted my scritchies.
That settled things in her mind and mine. I asked about his name and she said, "well, I named him 'Marley' but you can call him anything you want". I turned that around in my mind for a moment (considering that I could have named him after someone in the COTCB books along with Ayla and Iza), but I decided it was a perfect name and fit him perfectly. So Marley he was and Marley he remains!
Here he is coming out of the PTU for the first time here...
I stayed in touch with her by email for a few months telling her that he was happy and sending pictures, but she stopped replying after a while. Well, she had to move on with her post-cat life.
So now it is Ayla, Iza, and Marley, in "Mark's Mews" and this is the 10th year completed. And who knows what the future will bring?
Ayla, Iza, and Marley say they hope you will all come and visit today so they can swap blogging stories and stuff like that!
It wasn't a specific goal. When we started 10 years ago with Skeeter and LC they were already 14 and 13 respectively. They knew all about doors, windows, fences, and stuff, but had never had to try to put them in words before. It was interesting to discover how they thought about those things.
They didn't really know much about me either. I learned that they referred to me as "The Big Thing" and weren't sure what kind of animal I was since they never met many others except Vets, repairmen, and a few friends and family. In fact, they were amazed I ever met any of my family, since they hadn't seen any of theirs since they were small kittens.
Bein words came hard to them at first, and in fact, I mostly had to interpret their general thoughts. It was a while before they started writing more on their own, and even then, I had to do a lot of editing. They thought I was mostly there to manage their household and do the things they couldn't, like opening food cans and cleaning litterboxes. It seemed completely normal to them that some odd critter existed just to fulfill their needs. If that's all one knows, why not think that?
So I'll talk about our first blogging years with them...
Skeeter came to me in 1992 and LC in 1993. Both from a small local pet store. Both at Halloween. I didn't know much about such places then. Such places do not exist around here anymore.
I've told the stories of them before, but wish to do so again. I went to the pet store to find a female Siamese. No offense to gray tabby cats, but I had had them all my adult life (and loved each one greatly) but I wanted something different. We had had 2 Siamese female cats when I was young and I wanted one myself. The pet store was being renovated. There was horrible dust and noise everywhere!
There was only one kitten in the place. Terrified by the noise and dust, trembling alone in its (rather decently spacious) cage. I took one look at him in his misery and said "Kitten, I'm getting you OUT of here NOW!
I don't know how long he had been in that cage. I don't know how long he had been alone. I do know that the moment I let him out of the cardboard box the sellers had put him into to send him off with me, he ran frantically out and found a cutout spot under the kitchen cabinets that let air escape from a floor vent they covered. The space was only 6" high bit 2'x2' wide and deep. A lot of room for a kitten hiding.
And I know he was forever terrified of trash can bags, I made some guesses about how some kittens might have "gone away" in his experience. But I was never sure. I simply made certain not to "pop" any open when he was around. He couldn't tell me why, and I couldn't ask. To this day, I very carefully open trash bags and slowly push them into the kitchen trash bin when no cats are around.
He stayed in there for 3 days. He was so terrified that he pooped and peed in there and still stayed there. I pushed bowls of food and water in there. And then left the food bowls just a little outside the opening. Then further out. And I would sit there in the evening talking quietly to him.
He finally came out a bit and sniffed my fingers (which I had dipped in some food). Eventually he came out and carefully sniffed me (the unfooded parts). I set a hand within reach and he slowly crawled under it and I gave some gentle strokes and scritches.
His whole world turned around immediately. He stayed out of the cabinet vent cutout, and stayed near me all day. In fact, I couldn't get away from him! He stayed as close to me as a starving mosquito. And that's how he got his name. When I was a kid, we called mosquitoes "skeeters".
So I called him "Skeeter".
I still had Tinkerbelle at the time. She was a bit mean. I got her from my sister Susie after Tinkerbelle had been injured by a dog and had started to claw both her and the baby at any offense. Tinker and I got along because I was a bit more forgiving of claws and because I learned how to give her strokes and sneak over the injured spots.
Skeeter had to adjust to Tinker... I think he became friendly and diplomatic because of dealing with Tinker. I was working a job that meant I left the house at 6 am every day and only returned at 6 pm. So he had to deal with "Mean Old Tinker" all day when I was gone.
He came running to me every evening as I returned home. He climbed up me (ouch) to get to my face. Every critter who loves you wants to be at face level. I indulged the climbing. Skeeter sat on my shoulder as I prepared his food but also when I wasn't. He wanted facetime and I gave it. He slept under the covers with me all his years.
The following Halloween, I decided that Skeeter needed a friend since I was away half every day. I went back to the same pet store. It was nice and quiet then and there were 2 kittens in the front cage. I still wanted a female Siamese but they didn't have any. But one calico kitten was gorgeous and friendly and I said I wanted that one. Turned out she was already sold and just being held as a wedding present for a couple who were on a honeymoon cruise.
I'm not one for delayed gratification in certain areas. Like wanting a kitten. The other kitten was a black and white. And she was NOT friendly. Any side of the cage I went to, she moved to the other. I recognized a fiesty spirit! I have never had any cat who didn't love me, so I wasn't worried about that.
I said "I'll take her" and between the shopowner and I, we slowly pried her claws off the cage mesh one by one until she came loose. Into their cardboard box she went.
When released at home, she went for the same undercabinet spot Skeeter had hidden in. I guess it is a obvious spot to a kitten. But this time Skeeter sat there and talked to her. Which was perfect, because she wasn't MY cat, she was Skeeter's. I was still away most of the day after all. I wanted Skeeter and the new one to orient to each other.
But she did need a name, and I give a lot of thought to names. You should have seen me starting computer quest games in the 90s where you had some group of skilled characters and they all needed names. I spent a day deciding on names, and those games only lasted a month!
So I thought and thought. And don't laugh that "Skeeter's Cat" came to mind. But with the help of a special co-worker I considered that her black/white markings looked a bit like a cow's. So I decided first on "Little Cow", but then made it just the initials, LC.
LC adored Skeeter, and Skeeter protected her from Mean Old Tinkerbelle. Skeeter and LC became inseparable. They napped together, they ate together, they went outside together, they played with toys together.
In 1999, Tinkerbelle was outside and didn't come back when I called her as I was leaving to go fishing with a friend. That wasn't unusual. She often stayed away all day off in some local places of her own. But I never saw her again. She was failing in health at 16 or 17. She may have left to go find a spot to die. All I know is that no neighbor said they saw a dead kitty on the street and I never heard a meow when I walked the streets for days and nights calling her name. Such things happen, and I missed her. WE got along.
Skeeter and LC didn't miss her and I can hardly blame them. They were happy together having the whole house in peace while I was away and having my attention each evening. That went on until 2006 when I retired. They were thrilled I was there every day and they got fed better food more often. Well, I couldn't very well give them canned food for lunch when I wasn't there before. My retirement in 2006 was the start of the best days of the lives. It didn't last long enough, but those were good days..
And I am just NOW getting to the blog itself, LOL!
My last couple years at work, I had discovered a couple of cat-blogs. I followed Max, The Psychokitty daily. AHe was amazing to me. And another couple that sadly escape my recollection. But one had a button that said "Start Free Blog". After a few months of retirement, I clicked the button. And it seemed workable.
So away we went In August 25, 2006; Me, Skeeter, and LC. It was hard. It was confusing. It was tricky. I couldn't figure out how things worked. It was days before I learned how to allow comments and then to read them, and more before I could post a picture. But I did eventually and it wasn't as easy back then.
Our first commentors were The Meezers (they are honored forever for that here) and Max himself announced us to the world.
Sadly, Skeeter was already 14 at that time and LC was 13. Skeeter's last year on the blog just over a year later was hard, with accidents all around the house, eating problems, and confusion. The Good Vet said he wasn't feeling pain, but when he started to lean against the walls to stay upright, it would be "his time".
That time came December 10, 2008, only 2 years into his blogging time. He left for The Bridge after the sedative shot looking peacefully into my eyes as I wept while holding him.
LC went suddenly at home 13 months later from some sort of stroke. I found her in the basement and rushed her to the vet. She seems to have roused briefly there but was gone before I could arrive back.
They are both buried in the flowerbed, with markers.
Thus ended the story of Skeeter and LC, the reasons I started the blog...
But before Skeeter left, I had found the Siamese female I had originally looked for. And she was perfect for me. Unwanted by the breeder because she was too small to breed, I offered a good home because I wasn't interested in breeding. She nearly GAVE her to me. I named her "Ayla" after a character in a book and I had been saving that name for 20 years.
Skeeter loved Ayla when she first arrived as he had LC years before. He was a wonderful caring cat. But he lost track of her after he faded a few months later. LC and Ayla were hissy.
LC missed Skeeter so very much. She wanted her big orange brother back. It was a week before she climbed up on my lap. She had never done that before. I gave her much attention, and she appreciated it. She even came up onto the bed and slept next to me. No one can say that cats don't miss companions or that they can't seek comfort where they haven't before a loss. I was the 2nd choice after Skeeter and I didn't mind that a bit.
LC followed Skeeter over The Bridge in January 2010. They were almost identical ages. of 16 and 1/2 At that time, I realized that naming the cat blog after specific cats ("Skeeter and LC") was a bad idea in the long term. Well, it never really occurred to me that I would still be blogging by the time they left for The Bridge... I thought for a week about a new name for the blog. I finally came up with "Mark's Mews".
I called the breeder and got Iza just a few days later. She was a very relaxed cat.
She came out from under the bed after just a day, and immediately attached herself to me.
Mews means variously "Meows", "a place where people live with animals", a "hideaway", and a "small street". And the homonym "muse" because they gave me so much thought and inspiration... So there is the cats, I live with them, we are kind of solitary, and we live on a short dead end street. And my name is "Mark". So "Mark's Mews"... And it will never have to change.
So there was Ayla and Iza for a while. But they were hissy with each other in spite of the Felliway and attention. So, illogical as it seems, I decided I needed another orange male cat. Skeeter had been so great at keeping peace in the house. I looked at many animal shelter cats.
But they always came as brothers and those would have already become attached mostly to each other. I needed a single. With help, I found one. The owner had been given an orange/white male cat for Christmas and discovered she was allergic to cats. I saw the picture of the cat and fell in love.
And it wasn't easy to get him. She said he had been promised to a family with children. I pointed out that I was retired and could attend to him 24/7, that I bought only the best foods, that I played toys daily, that I had a yard surrounded by a fence that he couldn't get out of (which turned out to be false) and would have a wonderful time catching mice within.
She changed her mind and I went to visit her. He had 1 toy. He was fed cheap dry food. She called him down from upstairs and he came right down the stairs and looked at me. I sat down on the floor. He crawled onto my lap and purred loudly and accepted my scritchies.
That settled things in her mind and mine. I asked about his name and she said, "well, I named him 'Marley' but you can call him anything you want". I turned that around in my mind for a moment (considering that I could have named him after someone in the COTCB books along with Ayla and Iza), but I decided it was a perfect name and fit him perfectly. So Marley he was and Marley he remains!
Here he is coming out of the PTU for the first time here...
I stayed in touch with her by email for a few months telling her that he was happy and sending pictures, but she stopped replying after a while. Well, she had to move on with her post-cat life.
So now it is Ayla, Iza, and Marley, in "Mark's Mews" and this is the 10th year completed. And who knows what the future will bring?
Ayla, Iza, and Marley say they hope you will all come and visit today so they can swap blogging stories and stuff like that!
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
In Memorium
We remember this day when LC very suddenly decided to cross the Bridge.
It was the end of when it was just "Just The Girlcats". Not that it was deliberate or that we dint want to have a boycat around, it just worked out that way briefly.
LC was a cat's cat. She went straight fer Skeeter when she arrived and gave all her attention to him. TBT accepted that and was happy for them both.
LC was only 1 year younger than Skeeter, but she always stayed his "Little Sister" even til their old age.
She was a playful cat...
A cute skinny kitten...
"LC" stood for "Little Cow". Her patches of B and W seemed "cowish.
As a kitten, she was an explorer. As an adult, she was a great huntress. Skeeter brought more mice to the deck door, but I think LC caught at least as many and kept them to herself. She probably showed them to Skeeter more than she did to me.
She was never a lap cat, preferring Skeeter's company to mine. Which was OK, as I was away from the house about 12 hours a day in their time (while I woke, showered, dressed, commuted, worked, and returned home).
Indeed, I only had the pleasure of their routine daily company after 2006 (when I retired) when Skeeter was 14 and LC 13. They loved that time. I was there to let them outside every day instead of just weekends and holidays.
LC thrived outside. She prowled around the pond seeking frogs, the brush seeking mice, and (amazingly, garter snakes). If it moved on the ground, she caught it.
When Skeeter left us, she grieved. I let her sniff Skeeter's dead body so she would know he hadn't just disappeared. She was OK with Ayla, and after Skeeter was gone, she began to seek my lap. That was good. I gave her all the attention she desired.
LC did well with Ayla and Iza. But I could tell she was missing Skeeter, her life-long friend and protector.
One morning, she didn't come into the kitchen for breakfast and I started looking around for her and calling. I finally found her in the basement, pushed into some random junk. I have no idea what happened to her. She was comotose.
I brought her to the vet immediately. They called a few hours later to say she had died. They didn't have any idea exactly why. Stroke maybe. But it was sudden. I didn't pursue the cause. But it meant I didn't have her in my arms as she left my world (as I did Skeeter).
The vet said she was pretty much "out of it" her final hours; not conscious.
I miss you dear girlcat...
It was the end of when it was just "Just The Girlcats". Not that it was deliberate or that we dint want to have a boycat around, it just worked out that way briefly.
LC was a cat's cat. She went straight fer Skeeter when she arrived and gave all her attention to him. TBT accepted that and was happy for them both.
LC was only 1 year younger than Skeeter, but she always stayed his "Little Sister" even til their old age.
She was a playful cat...
A cute skinny kitten...
"LC" stood for "Little Cow". Her patches of B and W seemed "cowish.
As a kitten, she was an explorer. As an adult, she was a great huntress. Skeeter brought more mice to the deck door, but I think LC caught at least as many and kept them to herself. She probably showed them to Skeeter more than she did to me.
She was never a lap cat, preferring Skeeter's company to mine. Which was OK, as I was away from the house about 12 hours a day in their time (while I woke, showered, dressed, commuted, worked, and returned home).
Indeed, I only had the pleasure of their routine daily company after 2006 (when I retired) when Skeeter was 14 and LC 13. They loved that time. I was there to let them outside every day instead of just weekends and holidays.
LC thrived outside. She prowled around the pond seeking frogs, the brush seeking mice, and (amazingly, garter snakes). If it moved on the ground, she caught it.
When Skeeter left us, she grieved. I let her sniff Skeeter's dead body so she would know he hadn't just disappeared. She was OK with Ayla, and after Skeeter was gone, she began to seek my lap. That was good. I gave her all the attention she desired.
LC did well with Ayla and Iza. But I could tell she was missing Skeeter, her life-long friend and protector.
One morning, she didn't come into the kitchen for breakfast and I started looking around for her and calling. I finally found her in the basement, pushed into some random junk. I have no idea what happened to her. She was comotose.
I brought her to the vet immediately. They called a few hours later to say she had died. They didn't have any idea exactly why. Stroke maybe. But it was sudden. I didn't pursue the cause. But it meant I didn't have her in my arms as she left my world (as I did Skeeter).
The vet said she was pretty much "out of it" her final hours; not conscious.
I miss you dear girlcat...
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Bridge Day
TBT: Dear LC, can it be ONLY 3 years? It seems like forever. I know you are loving it over the Bridge and all that, but I sure miss you. I know you and Skeeter are romping through the fields. I know you are happy and healthy. But I sure wish you were still here with me.
Forgive me that I stay around here for a while. I have responsibilities for Ayla, Iza, and Marley these days. When they join you over the Bridge, it will be about time for me to join them, you and Skeeter, and the others...
Your Glamour Pose...
Your early days...
Your first day out here.
Your fun with Skeeter...
Wait happily for me dear girl...
Forgive me that I stay around here for a while. I have responsibilities for Ayla, Iza, and Marley these days. When they join you over the Bridge, it will be about time for me to join them, you and Skeeter, and the others...
Your Glamour Pose...
Your early days...
Your first day out here.
Your fun with Skeeter...
Wait happily for me dear girl...
Saturday, January 16, 2010
LC - A Summary Of Her Life
THE BIG THING:
Her name was LC. She came to me in October 1993 and left in January 2010.
Her name came from her black/white markings. Her markings gave her a strong resemblance to a cow and I finally thought of Elsie from Borden's. From "Elsie", came the letters "LC", which in turn stood for "Little Cow" (and "Lucky Cat").
She was lucky, though it might not have seemed like it at first. The 3rd evening, I discovered her eyelids were sealed shut from dried "eye stuff" every time she slept. She was bumping into furniture and finding her food by smell. The poor little thing was going around blind until I got home and dabbed her eyelids clean with water. Fortunately, her initial vet exam was already scheduled for the next morning.
The vet decided that the eye infection was probably due to the serious ear mite infestation I had not known about (she was still in hiding mode). AND, she turned out to have worms!
Doesn’t sound very lucky. But the vet said I should return her to the pet store because of the health issues. She would surely have been immediately euthanized. The vet receptionist was the person who named her “Lucky Cat” after that because of her initials and because I decided to keep her.
She was lucky in other ways, too. Skeeter was friendly and protective of her from the first and let her sleep with him. They played together constantly. I had gotten LC to be a companion to Skeeter while I was gone all day and it worked out perfectly. Their time alone together bonded them. And fortunately, Skeeter was then big enough (at 18 months) to protect LC from mean old Tinkerbelle.
You see, Skeeter was MY cat; LC was Skeeter’s cat. I never ignored her, of course. But I made sure that LC became oriented mostly toward Skeeter.
Under Skeeter’s watchful eye, LC learned to hunt mice and explore the big back yard. It was mean old Tinkerbelle who showed LC how to get up over the fence (and I sure wish she hadn't). Hunting frogs was something LC learned on her own.
LC never did do anything especially cute or funny or unusual. She was “just” a plain old steady cat. While Skeeter could jump unusually high to snag birds and suddenly leap into a pile of honeysuckle vines from a sleeping position to emerge instantly with a mole or young rabbit, LC was a very deliberate business-like huntress.
While Skeeter enjoyed his food with impressive enthusiasm, LC ate slowly and only as much as she needed. Where Iza insists on trying to “cover up” uneaten food, LC just ignored any. Iza simply must run up to the top of the kitty condo every morning when I open the drapes; LC stopped using the kitty condo almost entirely after Ayla arrived and started napping there.
I suppose the only odd thing about LC was that the only treat in the world she liked was regular Hill’s Science Diet for Seniors dry kibble. And only when dry. If she dropped a piece out of her mouth, she wouldn’t touch it again.
The only thing close to an odd habit was that she used to sit on the bath mat guarding me when I took my showers. She would always be there staring out the open door.
Oh, and there was the bubbler water bowl… From the first day she discovered the bubbles inside as the reservoir refilled the bowl, she was determined to catch them. She even figured out how to cause that. She began shoveling water out of the bowl to make the bubbles appear. She never did catch one, of course, but she was a very determined huntress. I had to dedicate the walk-in shower stall to the water bowls so that the splashed out water could drain away.
LC’s most dangerous moment came when she discovered that ice is not always safe to walk on. She had learned that she could walk out onto the pond and look down into the water. One time the ice broke under her and she fell in. Fortunately, I was watching her at the time and ran to get her out. She was unable to get out on her own. She never walked on ice again.
LC had a long, extremely healthy life. Until the thyroid problem developed and she required twice-daily meds in the last year of her life, she only had to take the dreaded “pink stuff” a couple of times. Her only injury was when she somehow peeled the skin back over one eye on something sharp in the house.
She took Skeeter’s loss 13 months ago very hard. Even in their older years, they were always close, indoors and out. She became a bit withdrawn (though she was friendly to Ayla). At about the same time, she finally became unable to climb the fence.
Her last few months, she began to seek more attention from me. She always did like being stroked and scratched, as long as she was safely on the floor and could leave. She would even give me head-bumps and would reach out a paw an tap my leg. But I started to pick her up more often and hold her on my lap gently and she would stay longer and longer.
On her last night, she hopped up on her own for the first time ever (I think) and stayed there for a long half hour. She seemed fully alert and comfortable that last night.
I will be trying to gather some special pictures of her over the next few days. Ayla and Iza tell me they want to say a few words themselves about LC soon, too.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
LC's Gotcha Day Story
(From The Big Thing's Cat Diary, 1993)
LC came to me on Halloween 1993. I decided that the reason Tinkerbelle and Skeeter didn't play together was because of Tinker's age and solitary habits. I took a chance and decided to get a playmate for Skeeter since he was still young. Going back to the same pet store where I got Skeeter, I found two kittens in a cage: One was an utterly cute and friendly calico, while the other was aloof and tried to hide. You guessed it, I ended up with the aloof one! It took two of us to unhook her claws from the screen cage and get her into a box (the calico was already promised to another customer). LC is a “tuxedo” female. As with Skeeter, it took 2 days to get her to come near me, but she is not as oriented to me as Skeeter is. Partly, that's because she fulfilled expectations of being a playmate to Skeeter!
LC is a cat's cat! She and Skeeter hit it off at once and have become nearly inseparable. Skeeter is her "big brother". They play together constantly; he lets her bunnykick to her heart's content (she doesn't seem to hurt him very much) and she is just feisty enough to make up for his advantage in size and weight. She doesn't care to be held like Skeeter does, but she has learned that I have magic fingers that please her greatly.
Her name comes from her black/white markings. She has a strong resemblance to a dairy cow (like Elsie from Borden's). From "Elsie", came the letters "LC", which in turn stands for "Little Cow".
I had to do quite a lot for her health those first few months. Her black cowl extends below her eyes, so I didn't suspect at first that the beautiful black color inside her ears was the result of a serious ear mite infestation. It took several visits to the vet and drops/cleaning by me twice a day for weeks before that cleared up. Possibly as a result, she then developed an infection in both eyes. Her eyelids would seal shut from dried "stuff" every time she slept. I didn't notice that until I realized she was moving around uncertainly and finding her food by smell rather than sight (her black face and very dark eyes make it hard to tell when her eyes are open). The poor little thing was going around blind until I got home each evening and dabbed her eyelids clean with water each day. It took over a week of antibiotics before the problem cleared up! After that, she turned out to have worms, which meant that Tinker and Skeeter certainly had gotten them as well. I had to dose the bunch of them!
Not a good start for a pretty kitty, but she got over it all. The vet receptionist calls her "Lucky Cat" because the vet said that most people would have returned her to the pet store, which would have been the end of her!
LC is a frog-hunter, for some odd reason. She loves them as toys and as food. Skeeter will go sniff one of her frogs sometimes, but they aren’t warm-blooded and he can’t seem to see them as alive if they don’t move. LC knows, though. She loves live baitfish, too. She didn’t learn it from another cat; it’s all her own discovery!
LC has a weakness for being scratched under the chin. She’s quite affectionate as long as she is not being held, which she will not tolerate!
LC came to me on Halloween 1993. I decided that the reason Tinkerbelle and Skeeter didn't play together was because of Tinker's age and solitary habits. I took a chance and decided to get a playmate for Skeeter since he was still young. Going back to the same pet store where I got Skeeter, I found two kittens in a cage: One was an utterly cute and friendly calico, while the other was aloof and tried to hide. You guessed it, I ended up with the aloof one! It took two of us to unhook her claws from the screen cage and get her into a box (the calico was already promised to another customer). LC is a “tuxedo” female. As with Skeeter, it took 2 days to get her to come near me, but she is not as oriented to me as Skeeter is. Partly, that's because she fulfilled expectations of being a playmate to Skeeter!
LC is a cat's cat! She and Skeeter hit it off at once and have become nearly inseparable. Skeeter is her "big brother". They play together constantly; he lets her bunnykick to her heart's content (she doesn't seem to hurt him very much) and she is just feisty enough to make up for his advantage in size and weight. She doesn't care to be held like Skeeter does, but she has learned that I have magic fingers that please her greatly.
Her name comes from her black/white markings. She has a strong resemblance to a dairy cow (like Elsie from Borden's). From "Elsie", came the letters "LC", which in turn stands for "Little Cow".
I had to do quite a lot for her health those first few months. Her black cowl extends below her eyes, so I didn't suspect at first that the beautiful black color inside her ears was the result of a serious ear mite infestation. It took several visits to the vet and drops/cleaning by me twice a day for weeks before that cleared up. Possibly as a result, she then developed an infection in both eyes. Her eyelids would seal shut from dried "stuff" every time she slept. I didn't notice that until I realized she was moving around uncertainly and finding her food by smell rather than sight (her black face and very dark eyes make it hard to tell when her eyes are open). The poor little thing was going around blind until I got home each evening and dabbed her eyelids clean with water each day. It took over a week of antibiotics before the problem cleared up! After that, she turned out to have worms, which meant that Tinker and Skeeter certainly had gotten them as well. I had to dose the bunch of them!
Not a good start for a pretty kitty, but she got over it all. The vet receptionist calls her "Lucky Cat" because the vet said that most people would have returned her to the pet store, which would have been the end of her!
LC is a frog-hunter, for some odd reason. She loves them as toys and as food. Skeeter will go sniff one of her frogs sometimes, but they aren’t warm-blooded and he can’t seem to see them as alive if they don’t move. LC knows, though. She loves live baitfish, too. She didn’t learn it from another cat; it’s all her own discovery!
LC has a weakness for being scratched under the chin. She’s quite affectionate as long as she is not being held, which she will not tolerate!
Monday, September 24, 2007
An Oldie But Goodie
LC: Efry so often, it is nice to go into the past and find some of our favrit pictures. One of my bestest memories is from when I was so much smaller than Skeeter an kinna new to the cave.
The-Cat-Who-Came-Before (Tinkerbelle) wasn't very nice to me, but Skeeter was my instantest best friend an protective Big Brother. He groomed me, let me eat wet food first and stood guard from Tinkerbelle when she was havin problems getin used to me bein there (even though he wasn't all that big an strong himself).
He let me sleep right next to him an all, and that's why no matter what happens, he is my forever best friend...
13 years later, I still feel safer sleepin next to him than even The Big Thing (as careful an kind as he is). The first feelin of safety stays the most important! THe Big Thing says he did it on purpose cause he wanted us to "bond" an have each ofer as "bes friends". Well, it worked.
I love Skeeter more than anythin else in the whole world!
LC
The-Cat-Who-Came-Before (Tinkerbelle) wasn't very nice to me, but Skeeter was my instantest best friend an protective Big Brother. He groomed me, let me eat wet food first and stood guard from Tinkerbelle when she was havin problems getin used to me bein there (even though he wasn't all that big an strong himself).
13 years later, I still feel safer sleepin next to him than even The Big Thing (as careful an kind as he is). The first feelin of safety stays the most important! THe Big Thing says he did it on purpose cause he wanted us to "bond" an have each ofer as "bes friends". Well, it worked.
I love Skeeter more than anythin else in the whole world!
LC
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