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Vortex

It appears that sometime early last week, a vortex opened up above our house, and it has been spilling chaos all over our tidy life.  We’re just trying to ride it out in good humor, hoping that this week will be better.

Wednesday afternoon: a Dior counter makeover that left me looking like a caricature of a fortune teller, followed by an increasingly frantic 40-minute search of every closet, cabinet, and cranny in the house for a cat that had seemingly vanished into thin air.  I finally found her here:

She had crawled under the coffee table, where there is considerable open space, and slipped through the 4″ gap between the top of the drawer and the underside of the table.  Finding herself stuck in the drawer — presumably all day, as her food was untouched — she didn’t even have the good sense to meow while I tore through the house looking for her.  I guess she was comfortable.  As for me, I think I lost a few years from my natural lifespan.

Thursday morning: got in the car at 5:15 to head for the gym and found it unresponsive.  It cost half a day, but we got a new battery and got our money back on the one we had bought just 18 months ago.  Lesson learned: buy a brand that can afford to advertise.

Friday: in the morning, a GFCI in the master bathroom tripped and wouldn’t reset, which doesn’t give you a nice feeling as you prepare to leave the house for the day.  By the afternoon, one of the sinks in that bathroom had spontaneously broken:

Saturday: I woke up to a dead Litter Robot and a short trail of brown pawprints.  We just bought the darn thing a month ago, and since Sweet Pea was in jail part of that time, it has been used for a total of maybe two weeks.  Of course this happened on a holiday weekend, so there is no reaching customer service until Tuesday.  We have the world’s most expensive scoop-it-yourself litterbox.

Oh, and then there is the mildew and the cracked windshield.  Just more items for our to-do list.

However, it is still a holiday weekend.  Today we had our usual Sunday brunch, tonight we are excited to try a restaurant where we’ve never eaten, and tomorrow we are sleeping late and then making one of our favorite breakfasts.  We’ll also be crossing our fingers that life (and the cat) will take it easy on us this week!

Guess who’s back

Here comes trouble…

I bailed out Her Biteness today.  On the way home she tried to get me to stop at an elementary school and let her ‘play’ with some children.  When I refused, she tried to convince me that it would be fun to knock over a Petsmart.  I told her she would have to find a more appropriate outlet for the things she learned from the other inmates in kitty jail.

She harassed her toys for a while and then curled up in her favorite chair to rest.

At least I think that’s what she’s doing…

“Leave me alone, human.  I need silence while I plot my next deed.”

She may be a criminal, but she’s our little criminal, and we’re glad to have her back.

Kitty jail and chocolate cake

Sweet Pea is already a criminal.  Mark said he would be proud if it weren’t for that girl that she mauled.

Wait, let me back up.  We took her to our vet yesterday for a wellness checkup, spay confirmation, and rabies vaccine.  I picked the absolute worst appointment time, as we happened to be there when Angry Cat’s cousin was in an exam room, and another client was leaving with a fairly unhappy cat.  So even though Sweet Pea should have been primed for the Worst Vet Visit Ever, she was pretty compliant when it was her turn.  She got some blood drawn and received an x-ray of her hips because she limps slightly (turns out she is missing the ball and socket connection in her right hip and the associated femur is shortened!  Could be from surgery or a birth abnormality).

Before administering the rabies and distemper vaccines, the vet attempted to shave a small spot on Sweet Pea’s belly so she could find the spay scar to be sure.  Unfortunately the clippers turned our sweet little kitty into a tornado of teeth, and the vet tech was on the business end.  Since the rabies vaccine was still in the syringe and we have no prior vaccination paperwork for the cat, the vet is legally required to hold her for ten days for observation. *facepalm*

We left the vet’s office somewhat in shock, without our shiny new cat.  So I did the only thing I could under the circumstances — I baked a cake.

This is adapted from Warren Brown’s chocolate pound cake from his CakeLove book.

Dry ingredients:

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (as always, I used Double-Dutch Dark Cocoa)
  • 2 tbsp turbinado sugar
  • 1 tsp potato starch
  • 1/4 tsp vanilla powder
  • 1/4 tsp baking soda
  • 3/4 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp espresso powder (just a hint of coffee flavor can ruin a dessert for me; you will not taste coffee in this cake)

Liquid ingredients:

  • 4 oz sour cream
  • 3/4 cup + 4 tbsp whole milk
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract

Creaming ingredients:

  • 8 oz (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
  • 3 cups granulated sugar
  • 4 large eggs
  • 3 tbsp heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 350F, with the rack in the middle.  Whisk the dry ingredients together in one bowl and the liquid ingredients in another.  In your mixer, cream the butter and sugar, then add the eggs (individually, fully incorporating each one) and the cream at low speed.

Starting and ending with the dry ingredients, add the dry and liquid ingredients alternately in 3-5 additions each.  Work quickly and don’t wait for everything to be fully mixed between additions.  Stop the mixer and make sure everything on the sides and in the bottom is churned up, then mix at medium speed for about 20 seconds so the batter becomes uniform.

Pour into a greased 12-cup Bundt pan, level with a spatula, and bake for 50-60 minutes until the center no longer jiggles and a toothpick or skewer comes out cleanish.  (When the cake cools, it will have the typical poundcake crust on the outside, and the inside will be super-dense and moist.)

What’s a cake without frosting?  So I made some cream cheese frosting and served it on the side.  (I actually bought the cream cheese and mascarpone when we went to Whole Foods a few days ago for chorizo and had to occupy ourselves while they made a batch for us.  Nice strategy, Whole Foods — we bought a LOT more than chorizo!)  This recipe comes from Joy of Baking:

Ingredients:

  • 1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream
  • 8 oz cream cheese, room temperature
  • 8 oz mascarpone cheese, room temperature
  • 3/4 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 cup powdered sugar

Combine the cheeses until smooth.  Add the vanilla and powdered sugar, mix until smooth.  In a separate bowl, whip the cream until stiff peaks form.  Gently add the whipped cream to the cheese blend in several additions, then refrigerate for an hour or two if it needs to set up.

The verdict?  Overwhelming approval.  Duh.  This should last us a few more days, and then I will bake something else to distract us from the remaining six days of the kitty-shaped hole in our life.

Sweet Pea

I’m playing hooky tomorrow.  Here’s why:
That’s Sweet Pea, the newest member of our household!  (You’ll never guess who chose her name.)

We fell in love with her on Petfinder.com last weekend and tried to bribe the shelter into holding her a week until we could pick her up, but they won’t hold animals.  I stayed at work as long as I could stand it on Friday and then headed down to League City to pick her up!

She is gradually acclimating to us and to her new home.  She has spent most of her time hiding on a comfortable chair in the dining area.  She does not appreciate closed doors — she was pretty sure there was something good in the closet under the stairs:

Sorry kitty, nothing but cleaning supplies and storage.

She is about two years old and seems to be a great cat — playful and affectionate.  She spent a while socializing with us this afternoon and seems to be getting much more comfortable, but I think we wore her out, because eventually she headed back to her chair.  Tomorrow she’ll get introduced to our vet for her wellness checkup.

Surrounded by love

(mouse over photos for descriptions)

My hotel room (minus a couple cards that arrived after I took this shot):

My kitchen:

My dining room table:

‘Blessed’ is not a word I use often, but I can’t think of any that would be more appropriate.  Except perhaps ‘grateful.’

Good night, little girl

Barring some miracle, Julia seems to be telling us that she is ready to go.  We will spend tomorrow saying goodbye, and then our vet (who is fabulous, by the way, in case you ever find yourself in possession of a Houstonian kitty) will make a house call.

I told you a little about Julia before, but indulge me and I’ll tell you more.  My sister and I found her at Petsmart over the Thanksgiving holiday of 2002, not long after I’d graduated from college.  I was living at my parents’ house in VA but had just accepted a job in NJ.  Obviously I was going to need a cat, and when we saw her, we knew she was the one.  We called my then-boyfriend and bribed him into agreeing to keep her until I moved into an apartment.  I filled out the application and heard back from the sponsoring rescue within a day or two.

I requested that they groom her before I picked her up, and there was some kind of fiasco that kept delaying it.  Finally, she was mine!

so skinny!

I think I drove her up to PA that same night, to her temporary home.  I visited on weekends until I moved to NJ (my boyfriend thought I was visiting HIM, ha!), and then I brought her over.

My apartment was underneath a man who sold drugs and abused his girlfriend.  It was not the best environment for a nervous cat (or her owner), but we kept each other company and she kept me sane.  At first, she would wait until I was asleep and then climb up onto my hip.  Before long, she would go to bed with me and stay on me or next to me all night.

There were growing pains, though.  Julia is a very particular cat.  The food and the litter had better be just right, or you will find out that they are not.  As much as I loved her, I had some times of serious frustration.  I was encouraged by at least a couple people to start over and try again.  My aunt, a big pet lover, said that “there are lots of good kitties out there.”  But I knew she was a good kitty, we just hadn’t figured each other out completely.

When I bought a townhouse in a quiet neighborhood, she was obviously happier, but some of her issues persisted.  I figured things were as good as they were going to get, and learned to work around her.  No rugs.  No unsupervised bedroom time.  I developed the ability to smell fresh cat pee from a different floor of the house (some people have more useful talents, but this one is mine).

Mark is a dog person and was never thrilled about living with my neurotic little cat, but his superior housekeeping skills brought some much-needed order to her life.  It was like things clicked.  They even developed an appreciation of sorts for one another.  When we moved to TX, to a much larger home, the transformation was complete.  She became a much more mellow cat, comfortable with rules and even interested in visitors.

I’m sure Mark will never be fully converted to a cat person, but he has come to love her for who she is, and to appreciate what a cat can contribute to a household.  He has taken extraordinary care of her (and me) this week, administering subcutaneous fluids and feedings and even a bath (THAT is love, my friends).  When she leaves us tomorrow, it will be with all the dignity that a cherished companion deserves, and there will be a considerable void in our home.

“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan…” -Irving Townsend

Julia

This weekend has not gone as planned.  We spent today in the emergency vet clinic.

When Julia had her cancer removed in July 2009, we opted not to pursue radiation because all the trips to the dentist and oncologist were making her fearful that every time we came home, we were going to take her someplace.  She is normally shy and prone to anxiety as it is, and our regular vet agreed that our choice was right for Julia.  The oncologist said that there was likely some cancer left behind that would spread, and that we could expect about six more months, which would likely be painless for her.

It’s been almost nine months.  The cancer seems to have spread to at least a lymph node, which has been enlarged for several months.  Her appetite and energy remained as good as or even better than ever.

Normally Julia wakes us on weekends by meowing outside the bedroom until we acquiesce to her demands for breakfast.  When she doesn’t wake us, it’s almost always because she has had an upset stomach and has left us a mess to clean, but even then she greets us as we come down the stairs.

On Friday night she cleaned her plate and seemed completely normal, but on Saturday she didn’t wake us.  We came downstairs and she remained where she was.  She soon crawled up onto my lap and spent the day there (except while I showered and she sat in Mark’s lap), breathing heavily.  We really thought the cancer had finally caught up with her lungs and that this was the end.

Suddenly at 10:30 PM, she jumped out of my lap and headed to her litterbox.  Then she began the back-and-forth familiar to anyone who knows anything about UTIs.  We set out some extra milk and water and kept an eye on her.  Today she seemed even weaker, so we took her to the clinic.

You meet some interesting people at the emergency pet clinic, like the homeless man who walked in with a dead or half-dead guinea pig.  I don’t know where he got it, but apparently he is a regular.  Then there was the woman who wouldn’t stop telling her two-sentence story about her dog who appeared to be suffering from little more than living with someone who needs a social outlet.

Anyway, Julia got some subcutaneous fluids, some antibiotics, and bloodwork.  She was very dehydrated and needs to see her regular vet tomorrow to see if her kidney function has improved with the fluids.  They sent us home with an appetite stimulant and we think she may have eaten just a little while we were out at dinner.  She is a bit more alert but still pretty miserable, and has nearly worn a rut between her chair and her litterbox.

So that’s where we are tonight.  If you have a pet, give it a big hug.

Skirting the rules

This is Julia (you may recognize her if you’ve ever viewed my ‘About Me‘ page):

Julia is about ten years old.  She’s been with me for seven.  She’s a cancer survivor (she saw both a dentist and an oncologist last year in addition to her vet, which is more medical attention than I had!) and a very gentle, shy little creature.  She follows me all over the house and sits right outside the bathroom if I’m thoughtless enough to close the door.  When I lived alone, she slept perched on my hip every night, but she was banned from the bedroom when I got married.

That was before we moved to Texas, so she has never been allowed into the bedroom in this house.  A few times she tried to sneak in, but she got called on it and wisely skittered away.  Most of the time, her manners are excellent — she’ll sit right outside the door watching me:

I can even disappear from view, into the master bathroom, with the bedroom door wide open.  She will edge right up to the carpet, but she won’t cross that line:

Houston has been very cold lately (where very cold = 50s; hush, I’m a Southerner now and wear socks to bed if the temperature is below 65) and the other night Miss Julia found a creative way to snuggle up and steal some warmth from us without exactly stepping into the bedroom:

I guess sometimes you just have to know how to break the rules.