It is with deep sorrow that I mark the passing of Beta Cat from the apparent world. She was old, and something went wrong inside, and you know how cats are ... she sat hunched up, eyes scrunched, ear tips cold. I took her to the vet, and they said there was something wrong inside, very wrong indeed. So Olivia came from Philadelphia, and we were both there to say goodbye.
Beta was a real yodeler, so the house is very quiet now. It's hard to even want to be at home. The holidays, never a happy time in my reckoning, will be even harder now.
Presidential duties will resume in a few days.
Showing posts with label Alpha and Beta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alpha and Beta. Show all posts
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Friday, December 01, 2017
Pity Poor Beta
Trigger alert: This post describes a sick kitty cat, including symptoms.
THE TRAGIC ORDEAL OF BETA CAT
Ordinarily you might be a tad annoyed if your cat relieved herself on one of your hoodies (albeit left on the floor all day). But if that hoodie had some wine-colored spots on it, you might look at it as a great way to find out your itty bitty kitty is ill.
Beta came to my back yard as a feral kitten, 16 years ago. She grew up feral and produced a fine litter of kittens before Olivia tamed her. We took the kittens to the shelter (they were adorable and adoptable), but we kept Beta. She's a plain Jane, getting grizzled with age.
EXHIBIT A: INSEPARABLE SINCE 2001
Long story short, I got home from work Thursday evening, and Beta was clearly sick. The vet gave me a 6:30 appointment.
(I'm sure you've noticed that even if a cat is on the Grim Reaper's doorstep, they can still fight going into that cat carrier.)
Off we went to the vet, and the first question they asked was, "Is she under stress?" Apparently stress causes the scary illness she had developed.
I said, "I can't think of anything that's out of the ordinary in our house or our routine." And there isn't. Beta gets her cans and her cot, she pushes Gamma around even though he's literally three times her size, and she is adored by her people.
Beta's treatment at the vet took quite awhile. We were there two hours -- so you can imagine the $$$$$.
At the end, as I was whipping out the Care Credit card, the vet gave me a flyer about Beta's illness.
When I got home, I read the flyer.
One cause of stress listed is construction outside.
Two years ago, my neighbors across the street sold their house to a developer who plans to build two houses on the lot. Maybe I've mentioned this before. Well, nothing at all happened for the first 18 months, but just last month a gigantic machine arrived and demolished the 90-year-old house in three hours' time. Since then the builders have poured a foundation, and the property is a mad mess.
One day about three weeks ago, I saw Beta cross the road to the construction site. (She would never cotton being an indoor cat ... I didn't even try.)
It never occurred to me until I read that flyer: The property across the street is part of Beta's territory. There hasn't been another cat or dog on that lot for about six years. The place was probably even more inviting when the house stood empty and was the same as always. And now it's gone, replaced by huge mounds of dirt, piles of gravel, and noisy men with noisier machines.
Damn! It's causing me stress! Why wouldn't it stress poor Beta?
I feel like I ought to send the vet bill to the developer, but Mr. J disagrees. He thinks I should send it to the neighbor who sold the property in a hurry, knowing that a lovely old house and a two-car garage with a full apartment above it would be razed. Who does such a thing? Those people raised five kids in that house!
Anyway, someone should pay for poor little Beta. Who owes me money?
I'm still waiting to hear back from the vet about Beta's blood work, but I'm considering that a good sign. She seems better today ... a little bit on the nod from the opiates, but she ate her vittles and purred while I told her not to worry, our house will not be demolished.
I'll keep you posted on her progress.
THE TRAGIC ORDEAL OF BETA CAT
Ordinarily you might be a tad annoyed if your cat relieved herself on one of your hoodies (albeit left on the floor all day). But if that hoodie had some wine-colored spots on it, you might look at it as a great way to find out your itty bitty kitty is ill.
Beta came to my back yard as a feral kitten, 16 years ago. She grew up feral and produced a fine litter of kittens before Olivia tamed her. We took the kittens to the shelter (they were adorable and adoptable), but we kept Beta. She's a plain Jane, getting grizzled with age.
EXHIBIT A: INSEPARABLE SINCE 2001
Long story short, I got home from work Thursday evening, and Beta was clearly sick. The vet gave me a 6:30 appointment.
(I'm sure you've noticed that even if a cat is on the Grim Reaper's doorstep, they can still fight going into that cat carrier.)
Off we went to the vet, and the first question they asked was, "Is she under stress?" Apparently stress causes the scary illness she had developed.
I said, "I can't think of anything that's out of the ordinary in our house or our routine." And there isn't. Beta gets her cans and her cot, she pushes Gamma around even though he's literally three times her size, and she is adored by her people.
Beta's treatment at the vet took quite awhile. We were there two hours -- so you can imagine the $$$$$.
At the end, as I was whipping out the Care Credit card, the vet gave me a flyer about Beta's illness.
When I got home, I read the flyer.
One cause of stress listed is construction outside.
Two years ago, my neighbors across the street sold their house to a developer who plans to build two houses on the lot. Maybe I've mentioned this before. Well, nothing at all happened for the first 18 months, but just last month a gigantic machine arrived and demolished the 90-year-old house in three hours' time. Since then the builders have poured a foundation, and the property is a mad mess.
One day about three weeks ago, I saw Beta cross the road to the construction site. (She would never cotton being an indoor cat ... I didn't even try.)
It never occurred to me until I read that flyer: The property across the street is part of Beta's territory. There hasn't been another cat or dog on that lot for about six years. The place was probably even more inviting when the house stood empty and was the same as always. And now it's gone, replaced by huge mounds of dirt, piles of gravel, and noisy men with noisier machines.
Damn! It's causing me stress! Why wouldn't it stress poor Beta?
I feel like I ought to send the vet bill to the developer, but Mr. J disagrees. He thinks I should send it to the neighbor who sold the property in a hurry, knowing that a lovely old house and a two-car garage with a full apartment above it would be razed. Who does such a thing? Those people raised five kids in that house!
Anyway, someone should pay for poor little Beta. Who owes me money?
I'm still waiting to hear back from the vet about Beta's blood work, but I'm considering that a good sign. She seems better today ... a little bit on the nod from the opiates, but she ate her vittles and purred while I told her not to worry, our house will not be demolished.
I'll keep you posted on her progress.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Alpha in Springtime
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Spiritual need fulfillment and upholstery care in one convenient location since 2005! Blessed be the brocade ... can I get an accolade?
The sun is just setting on a beautiful early spring day. How did I honor this day and the bored deities who gave me the life and health to enjoy it?
I did chores.
Yep, that's right. I did chores. Now I'm going inside to cook supper grade papers.
You might think this would anger the bored gods. And I'm sure it would too, except that the praise and worship rituals in this house are conducted by my cat, Alpha.
Alpha came to live with us in 2000, July 4. She had been picked up some months earlier in Delran, with one surviving kitten. The other kittens had starved. Alpha's family moved away and just left her outside the home.
After being rescued, Alpha spent some months in the rescue house. The cat ladies couldn't get her adopted out, because Alpha didn't get along with other cats, and she was all grown up.
I had been patiently waiting for my daughter The Spare to develop enough empathy to keep a pet kitty. Spare saw Alpha in a cage at a store in Snobville, and the next thing we knew, Alpha had moved in.
Some people are deeply attuned to the world of Spirit. They feel holy into their bones. I wish I was like that, but most of the time I'm just a plodder. I have delegated all Spirit work to Alpha.
As I bustled about the property today, fiddling with this and that, Alpha lay basking in the warm gift from the great God Sol. Alpha was at one with the universe. The phrase "Blessed be" seemed to have been coined just for her.
And so do the bored gods rain down upon Alpha every joy and peace beyond human understanding. She accepts these gifts wordlessly, soulfully, with neither a bang nor a whimper.
Alpha had a checkup from the vet this past Tuesday. He pronounced her a "healthy senior citizen" at age 15. Long may she splay and sleep in the sun all day.
The sun is just setting on a beautiful early spring day. How did I honor this day and the bored deities who gave me the life and health to enjoy it?
I did chores.
Yep, that's right. I did chores. Now I'm going inside to cook supper grade papers.
You might think this would anger the bored gods. And I'm sure it would too, except that the praise and worship rituals in this house are conducted by my cat, Alpha.
Alpha came to live with us in 2000, July 4. She had been picked up some months earlier in Delran, with one surviving kitten. The other kittens had starved. Alpha's family moved away and just left her outside the home.
After being rescued, Alpha spent some months in the rescue house. The cat ladies couldn't get her adopted out, because Alpha didn't get along with other cats, and she was all grown up.
I had been patiently waiting for my daughter The Spare to develop enough empathy to keep a pet kitty. Spare saw Alpha in a cage at a store in Snobville, and the next thing we knew, Alpha had moved in.
Some people are deeply attuned to the world of Spirit. They feel holy into their bones. I wish I was like that, but most of the time I'm just a plodder. I have delegated all Spirit work to Alpha.
As I bustled about the property today, fiddling with this and that, Alpha lay basking in the warm gift from the great God Sol. Alpha was at one with the universe. The phrase "Blessed be" seemed to have been coined just for her.
And so do the bored gods rain down upon Alpha every joy and peace beyond human understanding. She accepts these gifts wordlessly, soulfully, with neither a bang nor a whimper.
Alpha had a checkup from the vet this past Tuesday. He pronounced her a "healthy senior citizen" at age 15. Long may she splay and sleep in the sun all day.
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