Loaner almighty

From “Meow’s Way Redux”:
 
Ever since Pinky’s dual with Loaner over me, Loaner has yielded and so has Tango, come to that.
Loaner has her own spot in the house on the hall rug, which led to the Episode of the Raccoon. One second dozing, the next–starting up and flying at the pet door to the patio, she smashed the door down on a raccoon’s head. The raccoon pedaled backward and hesitated outside, then made a second try. Loaner was ready, and delivered another blow. Almighty Loaner!
Impressed, I called her to the kitchen where I served up a special treat, a helping of codfish as she likes it, raw. She is a big cat, about 18 pounds to Pinky’s nine and Tango’s fourteen. I cannot lift Loaner in the usual way, under the arms, but do it with both hands under her belly. She doesn’t like that much and protests. My back protests, as well.
 
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Loaner

Pinky’s siblings stay off to the side. Ever since her dual with Loaner over me, Loaner has yielded and so has Tango, come to that.
Loaner has her own spot in the house on the hall rug, which led to the Episode of the Raccoon. One second dozing, the next–starting up and flying at the pet door to the patio, she smashed the door down on a raccoon’s head. The raccoon pedaled backward and hesitated outside, then made a second try. Loaner was ready, and delivered another blow. Almighty Loaner!
Impressed, I called her to the kitchen where I served up a special treat, a helping of codfish as she likes it, raw. She is a big cat, about 18 pounds to Pinky’s nine and Tango’s fourteen. I cannot lift Loaner in the usual way, under the arms, but do it with both hands under her belly. She doesn’t like that much and protests. My back protests, as well.

Tall Grass

“Redux” continued:
 
The city is usually late in cutting the growth there. This suits her fine, for she loves to plunge into the tall stuff and disappear. We do not need a common language — a beaming glance back at me saying Come on in! urges me in with her, though certainly I do not disappear in the tall growth as she does.
One day in a hot July she had us go down there while I tried to tell her the grass had been cut, but was helpless to stop her as she proceeded to the fence and saw – nothing. Again, no common speech needed. I felt acutely her disappointment as she sat there looking.
 
But she has other favorite places. I know where to find her and her siblings Tango and Loaner at the overgrown bottom of the yard near a neighbor’s fence. There is a bare patch in the shade that is made for Pinky and me. I will lie there and in seconds she joins me, stretches out and goes to sleep. I do not sleep but watch her, and she always wakes and raises her head when I must leave. I hear her cat thought, Oh…..

Pinky

My homecomings are another specialty of Pinky’s. She welcomes me with extravagant flops and wiggles – four flops expressing the utmost happiness. Well, I get happy, too. My nephew’s family have taken to teasing me for my early departures from their home because I need to get back to Pinky.

Cleveland Amory, the animal activist who founded Fund for Animals and a sanctuary for abused animals in Texas named Black Beauty, notes that the cat brain of all animals is most like that of the human, except for speech and memory. It seems to me that memory reposes in a cat’s olfactory sense. As for speech, Pinky and I have no difficulty communicating. Once, when exasperated with my slowness, she gave me a gentle nip on the hand to help me along. She manages our traffic by sitting and leaning in the direction she wants us to go. If we are near the lemon tree she angles toward the city land outside our chain-link fence.

Heartwarming stories of cats and dogs

I heard two stories that made me glow.

A resident here at Lake Park told of a feral cat who gave birth to four kittens then went and got herself hit by a car. The resident then had to buy formula and an eyedropper to feed the little ones. She had a half-grown kitten herself and this kitten got into the box and nurtured the babies and cuddled with them.

And a Facebook friend told of something similar. Her cat had five babies and whenever mama cat took a break her dog would get into bed with the kittens and lick and clean them.

 

The Warriors

I had a grandstand view of the Warriors parade yesterday from the patio at Lake Park. Stephen Curry and Kevin Durant were there on top of the the bus but the best was a miniature horse, no more than four feet tall, pulling two people in a cart. I wanted to get down and help that little horse haul his load.

And there was a sign posted on our elevators, a message from the Oakland PD prohibiting viewing from the roof for fear of snipers. Snipers!

Pinky the human cat

Excerpt from “Meow’s Way Redux”:

Our lap time is also game time. While she lies face up, I jig her legs chanting a tune accompanied by rumbling purrs. Between belly rubs I attempt to catch her right paw but she always pulls it away; it has become part of our play. She lets me keep the left one. When she shifts her head to the side onto my knee, it is my cue to administer a flurry of strokes and go zum zum zum! After this she shakes her head as if to clear it. In a few minutes she is ready to go again.

We are convivial at mealtimes as well, sharing chardonnay which she laps from my fingers. She likes champagne even better. I do not often drink merlot but she does not care for it, anyway.

Needless to say, the TV news remains ignored during this session.

She’s back!

The vet couldn’t find anything wrong with her except this significant fact, that her heart murmur is in stage 3. Just as a precaution he gave her an antibiotic shot. He also gave her fluids and an appetite stimulant.

Her heart murmur….I think she was just tired. My little girl is 15 years old now. I expect she might break my heart in the not distant future.

Rainy day pussycat

From “Meow’s Way Redux”:

A rainy day is always special for Pinky. I know, before I even see her, that she is sitting at the front door asking to go out to watch the rain. Once outside, she bundles herself up on the doormat and stares out at the wetness five feet away. Every hour or so I open the door to ask if she wants to come in. After about three hours she will finally, slowly, rise and stre-e-e-etch, give the mat a scratching workout then amble inside. All is peace.
Her other favorite place is a nest she has made of my shawl on the second shelf of the closet in my workroom. Sometimes I cross to her and lay my head against her warm body and moan about words or the story line that won’t come clear, and I may receive a sympathetic lick of her tongue on my face