Angry Eyebrows


This is not Cheddar. Angry Eyebrows took him away before we could snap a pic. This is a different ginger cat I spotted at another adoption fair. Super cute. I visited him twice.

This is not Cheddar. Angry Eyebrows took him away before we could snap a pic. This is a different ginger cat I spotted at another adoption fair. Super cute. I visited him twice.

Ask Matt what my favorite part of going to the pet store is and he’ll easily answer you.

“The cats. She loves to see the cats.”

Every time we go to PetCo or Petsmart, I immediately make a beeline for the spot where rescue organizations set up shop with their furry felines. It’s been months since we lost Pink, and I can’t deny that I miss the pussycat purr in our home.

Last weekend we needed dog treats and we decided to go to PetCo since it carries Charlie’s favorite in bulk. We also put the treats on top of Lexie’s kibble to encourage her to eat.

We walked in the store, and right into heaven … or should I say a cat adoption fair.

The second cage had an orange stripey cat. he came right to the front and pressed his body against the bars. I’m a sucker for a ginger.

“He’s a cutie!” I whispered to Matt. He nodded.

As I pushed my finger through the cage bars to touch the kitty’s nose, a woman wormed her way between Matt and me.

“Would you like to hold him?” she asked, already opening the cage and reaching in to grab the cat.

“Umm, sure,” I said. I was happy to hold a cat again, but not exactly sure I was ready to make a commitment right then and there.

The woman put the cat in my arms. As I looked up to ask the cat’s name, I was startled. By the woman’s angry eyebrows. They were clearly painted on … in an angry fashion.

“His name is Cheddar,” she said. We asked if he got along with dogs, and she said she had one dog at home but she wasn’t really sure how they got along. The woman told us she has numerous cats, and they all got along.

We told Angry Eyebrows that we had two dogs, and she bristled. We said they were relatively small, and lived with a cat before. She looked away, disinterested.

Matt ran his fingers over Cheddar’s paws, and asked if he was declawed. She said no, and we both expressed relief. Me because I don’t believe in declawing a cat, and Matt began to mention the … (record player screeches)

The dog door.

“Oh, do you want an outdoor cat? We don’t allow outdoor cats. We want our cats to stay indoors. Always. It’s too dangerous for cats to be outside. ….” (fade to black)

Oh. No.

I explained that Pink was not an outside cat. She loved sleeping on her cat perch or the couch. But she had wandered out the dog door a few times, only to wander about five or six feet before running back inside. I explained all of this, but Angry Eyebrows wasn’t having any of it.

She grabbed Cheddar, and pulled him tightly to her chest. And with that, our cat adoption interview was over.

This was for a cat we didn’t really want to adopt in the first place, but suddenly I was pissed that I was summarily dismissed.

I wondered if we would ever be allowed to adopt a cat with our dog door. I imagined us boarding over the hole in the side door, and growing frustrated as Charlie took to pooping in the library again. With gusto.

Could it be Angry Eyebrows was right?

Regardless, I came to accept it just wasn’t the right cat.

We’ll keep looking. I know the fuzzball is out there.

FurFamHORZNTL

Snow, sleep and kittens!


Charlie surveys his first snowfall.

Charlie surveys his first snowfall. (Photo by Bryan Bogater)

Special note: We got caught up in the holiday excitement, and just realized we haven’t posted a blog in a while. Today’s entry should get us all caught up. Happy New Year!

Christmas came a day late for Charlie, but he says it was well worth the wait.

Mother nature delivered his first snow.

In all honesty, my brother has ordered up the storm. He flew in from Ft. Lauderdale earlier in the day, and had specifically requested a sizable amount of snow. He told me if he had to be in freezing temperatures while visiting me, the least I could do is provide a scenic snowy backdrop.

So once we returned from the airport with Bryan, snowflakes began to fall. Charlie hopped up on the couch, and watched through the front window. His eyes grew pensive, as he pressed his brown nose against the glass.

Charlie romps in the snow.

Charlie romps in the snow.

What is that white stuff falling from the sky?

It was dark by the time we had several inches on the ground. Matt and walked out back with Charlie to see his reaction. He pranced through the yard, occasionally stopping to grab a mouthful of snow. As we pretended to snatch him up, Charlie ran full tilt, losing traction in the snow as he tried to replicate his usual tight corners.

Lex stepped delicately in the snow, and did her best to avoid Charlie as he flew by.

With the snow came some interesting developments.

First, our sand-in-the-house problem instantly disappeared! We now can walk barefoot inside, and no longer build sand castles on our couch.

Second, dog toys started disappearing. Then reappearing … covered in snow. At first it was a collection of squeaky toys. The hedgehog and the chipmunk, specifically. They were gone, then a day later reappeared as a snowball on the couch. Interestingly, Charlie switched it up to include his Nylabones and a deer antler.

Apparently, he prefers his chewies chilled, thank you very much.

Lounging Lexie

It seems that Lex has fully recovered from her vertigo scare. And while she has not had any more dizzy spells, she spends most of her time sleeping, these days. Her favorite spot has become a high-back chair in the front room, closest to the heat register. When she curls up on the chair, I cover her with a blanket, and she’s instantly out.

Lex snags one of Charlie's frozen Nylabones.

Lex snags a frozen Nylabone.

When she’s awake, Lexie has amazed us with her energy. She’s eating well, and consistently, and often has enough energy to instigate a wrestling match with Charlie.

When Matt spoke with our vet for the vertigo follow-up visit, she said Lexie’s kidney values are within healthy range, but on the high end of normal. She said this meant we did a great job with her special kidney diet, but that we have to keep a close eye on her. Considering Lex had one paw in the grave just six months ago, I call this a victory.

In the last couple weeks, Lex has really turned into a snuggle bug. Now that she can hop up on the couch on her own power again, she will tuck herself tight next to Matt or me. When she’s wanting to melt hearts, she’ll gently place her snout on my chest and stare up at me. Awwwe.

Smitten with kittens

In the last month or so, when Matt and I go to PetSmart or Petco, the first thing I do is make a beeline for the cat display. Both pet stores provide space to local rescue organizations for cat adoptions.

After losing Pink last fall, Matt and I both agreed that we would not get another cat. For 10 years, we said.

Some ginger cuties I spotted at Petco.

Some ginger cuties I spotted at Petco.

It’s funny how looking at those sweet fuzzy faces can makes our resolve dissolve.

I’ve secretly been taking photos of cute kittens for a couple months. And now I can’t disguise my excitement when it’s time to see the kitties. Matt always indulges me, but tonight a certain little kitten stole our hearts.

He was a small grey and white striped kitten, full of spunk and spasms. He saw us looking at him, and put on his best cute kitten show. We fell hard, and Matt noted he’d probably get along with Charlie.

“You should see if we can have a visit with him,” Matt said.

I almost fell over, but ran to a store associate before he changed his mind. It ends up the rescue organization only has meet-and-greets on the weekends, so we’ll have to come back.

The little fuzzball may the the one. Or maybe not. But I cannot lie. I’ve got kitten love in my heart again. Meow.

FurFamHORZNTL

Thunderstruck


The first thing Charlie did once we got the Thundershirt wrapped around him? He yawned. We both agreed he was noticeably calmer.

I have to say when we first heard about Thundershirt, Matt and I hesitated.

The concept seemed too good to be true. Eliminate a dog’s separation anxiety by wrapping a tight shirt around him? Sure. I guess I’ve heard of weirder things.

But then we got a solid recommendation from our friend Lenny Z. And we watched a favorable news report. This was followed by testimonials from a few more friends.

Charlie fit in the low end of a size medium, so he will be able to grow into his Thundershirt.

We went to the website and poked around. After seeing that Thundershirt offered a full refund if it didn’t calm our pup, Matt and I were ready to commit.

Honestly, it felt good to have a solution. Even if it wasn’t a guaranteed solution, we finally had something to try out. The last few weeks with Charlie have slowly been eating at us, like a swift river tearing away at a river bank. His destructive nature has startlingly increased, and in recent days he has taken to barking at absolutely nothing at all. Sure, he is a border collie mix, but really?!? Our nerves were raw, and we needed something — anything — that would provide a bit of encouragement.

We bought the Thundershirt at a local PetSmart, where an associate told us we were making a good purchase. Since the store started carrying them last fall, the store has only had one return. Matt and I locked eyes. Was that hope we were feeling?

As soon as we got home, I ignored the 90-degree weather and tore open the box. Charlie would at least try it on. I pulled out the shirt, and marveled at all the flaps and velcro. Part swaddling/part straightjacket, it was surprisingly easy to get on. Thank goodness Charlie did not fight me. As soon as I fastened the last  flap of shirt, Charlie looked up at me and yawned. His eyes seemed a little heavier than usual. He snuggled into me.

This felt promising.

Resting with Daddy.

We kept him in the shirt for about a half-hour. It was long enough to see a change in Charlie, and to know that we would wrap him up in his Thundershirt when we went out for dinner.

As luck would have it, a loud, boisterous thunderstorm rolled through while we were dining at a Korean restaurant about 20 minutes away. Knowing Charlie was wearing his Thundershirt, we crossed our fingers and finished dinner.

Charlie greeted us at the door. We slowly walked in, scanning the couch for wood shavings from the window sill. The room was spotless. The window was still firmly affixed to the wall. Charlie was happy to see us, but not in the desperate way we has grown accustomed to. After our first day, we’re cautiously considering this thunderous therapy a success.

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While Daddy’s away …


I’ve got a Nylabone, and I’m gonna chew this instead of the couch. I puppy-paw swear!

Since we adoped Charlie, Matt has been a constant in his life.

And now, for the first time since Charlie has lived with us, Matt is going away on business. For a week. How on Earth will Charlie survive?

Rumor has it, Charlie has plans. Like sitting on the couch. And sleeping in a human bed. And eating lots of cat food. Maybe even pooping on the laundry pile.

Matt’s eyes turned red when I disclosed Charlie’s itinerary.

“That’s my greatest fear! That you will undo all my hard work and training!” he accused.

The truth is it would be a lot more trouble to let Charlie run wild, than to continue with his training. He craves discipline, and is eager to please. And who can resist the wiggly puppy dance from a dog who just mastered “sit” for like the hundredth time?

Certainly, not me!

I imagine I may allow a short nap on my belly, and perhaps some surprise table scraps, but I’m expecting nothing out of the ordinary.

Since buying separate dog beds for Charlie and Lex, they both sleep comfortably on the floor next to us at night. We’ve fallen into an easy routine, with the dogs sleeping in their beds (with a few choice squeaky toys for cuddling, of course!) until morning. Then I usually get Charlie out in the yard for his morning potty. I learned a lesson by opting to change some laundry first thing the other morning, and Charlie trotted down and proceeded to pee all over the blanket at my feet.

Well, it was in a pile waiting to get cleaned anyway. Sigh.

The point is, I feel I have things under control. The only thing I’m really concerned about is the time when I go to work. We’ve successfuly left Charlie and Lex alone for a few hours, but nothing like 10 hours straight. I’m concerned he will miss me, or his buddy Matt. I really hope he won’t cry. Charlie, that is.

Dog days of summer

So Matt is leaving for a week, and the heat wave is in full blast. Like much of the nation, we have had countless days in a row of 100-plus degree weather. To help keep us cool, we bought a wading pool at PetSmart. It even comes with decorative bones instead of fish. Ya know, because dogs can tell the difference.

I couldn’t wait to get home, and actually called dibs on filling the pool with water. My eyes glazed over as I imagined Lex and Charlie diving in, frolicking in the water. As soon as the water filled up close to the rim, I called Charlie over. He sniffed at the pool, then backed away. Matt scooped him up and placed him in the water, sure he would bounce around. Instead, he promptly hopped out and rolled in some sun-burned grass.

Lex walked toward the pool. She really surveyed the situation. I was hopeful. She took a step right to the side of the pool, lowered her head, and took in a long slurp of water.

Lex had just discovered the largest water bowl in Detroit.

What? This is supposed to keep me cool? Slurp-slurp. Ya know, you’re right!