Vet Wisdom® Café

We Are the Lucky Ones

Last week, I was able to share a photo with you from a pet parent who had received a ClayPaws® print when their cat, Lucky, was euthanized. He shared Lucky's story with me as well. 

Lucky had shown up at their camp one weekend. She seemed to have been dropped off on the roadside and wandered through the woods. She was very skinny and had was losing the control of her back legs. He and his wife took her in and immediately took her to the vet hospital in their area. She was about 2 months old at that point. They called her Lucky because she found her family at the camp and found a forever home with them. 

I got to thinking after hearing Lucky's story. I think that we, as pet parents, are the lucky ones. Having a Lucky come into their lives wasn't something this family was looking for, but they had 9+ years with her and she brought them much pleasure and laughter over the years. So, yes, Lucky was lucky, but so were her pet parents! (And I know they agree.) 

I have had many kitties in my life. Several of them I helped out of bad situations (Bear, Zen, Melvin, and even our current boys, Ben and Henry, and our little Miss Girl.) So, are they lucky to have me? Yep. But, I feel more lucky to have had them!)

Melvin wasn't really my cat, but the short time he was in my life was great! (I might have one photo of him, but I can't find it to share with you.) He was a fighter, a big orange Tom-cat who decided that I was good people. He came to my house and he ate with my Bear cat. (He didn't fight with Bear, amazingly.) He wouldn't let anyone touch him to begin with, but I was patient with him. I had mono during the time that Melvin was coming around. I was stuck at home for over 2 months. I would sit outside on my little front stoop and talk to Melvin. He eventually let me pet him. 

I don't know what happened to Melvin. He just stopped coming around one day. I hold out hope that he found a new home, but... who knows? I missed seeing the crazy cat. I called him Melvin after Jack Nicholson's character in the movie As Good As It Gets. He didn't like people to touch him either. 

So, was Melvin lucky to have found me? Yes, certainly, but I was more lucky to have the time with him. It was a short period of time - maybe a year. He was a scrapper - often had torn up ears and battle scars. But he always had a little time to hang out with me. I felt needed when Melvin came around. I was lucky to have that orange cat in my life. 

Time with pets is fleeting. I know that nine years with Lucky certainly wasn't long enough for her family. My one year or so with Melvin wasn't enough, but I count myself lucky to have had the time. Even though losing a pet, however that happens, to old age, euthanasia, or disappearance is one of the hardest things I've faced, I'll do it all over again, and again, and again. 

What pet have you been lucky to know? 

--Tammy

Too Much Time on the Computer Blues

I’ve waited as long as I possibly can to address this growing problem. I don’t want to be rude or insensitive, but I feel compelled to say this, “Step away from the computer. Your cat needs attention!”

Too Much Time

You see at our house, Jean spends a HUGE part of her day on the computer. She’s a writer and that’s where she writes. I understand that, really I do. But in my opinion, the time she spends clacking on the keyboard or reading things on the screen has increased to unacceptable levels.

Seriously, how much writing can one person do?

What About Me?

My main concern is that her computer time is interfering with my daily routine. Lately I’ve developed a taste for being held. I like to snuggle and give hugs by pressing my head into Jean’s neck as she holds me. My favorite position is when she is standing. I don’t know why I didn’t try it sooner, because this is really nice. I know she likes it too, so don’t think I’m being totally selfish.

I try sitting in her lap when she’s working at the computer. Frankly, it’s just not that comfortable. My head sometimes clunks against the edge of the desk. Or I feel trapped under the desk, which makes me feel claustrophobic and cranky. In other words, it doesn’t work for me.

Cat Versus Internet

When I sit on the desk beside the computer monitor, I’m tempted to bat at the papers scattered around, or do a bit of typing myself. Both of these seem to irritate her. I do get the chance to learn a thing or two when we’re surfing the Internet together. That’s where I found this great cartoon called The Oatmeal. You really must treat yourself by following this link and taking a look at his cartoon called, “Cat VS Internet.” This guy knows cats. Really well. And I got some ideas from reading the whole cartoon. Some really good ideas. You’ll have to read it to see what I mean.

Oh the Irony of it All

In case you’re wondering, the irony of me finding this wonderful cartoonist on the computer, while I’m complaining to you about Jean spending too much time there, has NOT escaped me. Cats are masters of irony.

More hugging and less computing! There are animals and people out there who need you. Just say you’ll think about it.

Please.

Consider it my public service announcement for the day.

--Mija

The Dreaded Cone of Shame

So one day recently, Oscar took over the blog with his "grousings". Little did he know, but more trouble was headed his way!

For several months, Oscar has been obsessively grooming his belly. He has gone so crazy with grooming,that his belly is almost completely bald. --> 

Before we moved - I took him to the vet in California. She thought the possibility existed that the cats had fleas (icky... I've never dealt with fleas!) So, we treated them all hoping that it would help Oscar. She also gave him a shot of prednisone in case he had an allergy. The hope was that these two things would stop his attack on his belly. 

Then we moved! So, neither thing stopped Oscar's grooming habits. So, when we got to Oregon, I took him to our vet here. (It was nice to already know a vet back in Oregon!) She didn't think that fleas were playing a role (pshew!) but said we should go ahead and continue with flea treatments for all of the cats since we're in an area where fleas are common. (So, we have done that!) 

She decided to do some bloodwork on Oscar to make sure there wasn't something bigger wrong. His results all came back very normal, with no apparent issues. (Good news for my old boy!) Our vet here thinks that it is very likely just behavioral for Oscar. Her next idea was to try using an e-collar to break him of the habit of licking his belly. Yikes. I gave it about a week, but since he didn't stop, I broke down and visited the vet again to get the dreaded "cone of shame" for Oscar. 

He has been wearing it for almost a week now. I was SHOCKED how well he settled down after I put it on him. I really thought it would be much more of a struggle. He ran around like crazy for about 20 minutes after, but then seemed to just resign himself to wearing it.

He's had a hard time getting around without running into things. (And I have to admit, we humans laugh at him way more than we probably should!) He scoots their food bowls around a lot to get bites. And he dips the collar into the water frequently - drenching his front. He has also gotten cat litter stuck all over it a few times - necessitating a good washing. 

The funniest thing so far is when he tries to lick. He sits "buddha" style and tries to lick his belly, but since he can't, he winds up just licking the inside of the collar. It's very pathetic! 

I don't know if this is going to stop him, but hopefully it will! I'm not sure how long he'll need to wear it - the vet thought maybe even as long as a month. Time enough to let the hair grow back on his belly (it's still pretty bald!) and break the obsession cycle! I'll keep you posted! 

Have any of you faced obsessions like this with your pets? How have you helped them? If the e-collar doesn't work for Oscar, we may be looking at trying something like kitty prozac to help him out. 

--Tammy

Fleeced

One afternoon, weeks ago when the weather started turning cold, I went looking for Mija. I hadn’t seen or heard from her in hours and I was getting concerned.

I checked all the usual hangouts-on the bed, under the bed, and any puddle of sun that had splashed onto the floor.

No Mija.

Where was she?

That’s when I happened to notice a peculiar, cat-shaped lump in a sheepskin throw that we keep folded at the foot of our bed.

I ran my hand across the lump and it made a noise. It wasn’t exactly a meow. It was more like a swear word.

So that’s where she hides on these cold days.

Nearly every day since, I notice that Mija has wriggled into the folds of the fleece.

It’s her late morning to mid-afternoon routine.

She’s always been a burrowing girl. She loves to snuggle under the covers in bed with us. She’s been known to crawl into a pile of laundry fresh from the dryer. (She’s smart enough to know to avoid the dirty laundry!) In the photo above she’s snuggled into a clean pair of jeans.

Me too!

I’ve also fallen in love with fleece, though you’ll be relieved to know I’m not burrowing into a blanket.

I have three fleece pullover tops that have become my winter uniform. Honestly, it’s a rare day that I’m not wearing one of them at least for some part of the day. The tops are cozy, have no bulk, and they keep me warm without ever being too hot.

So there you have it-Mija and I are spending our winter cocooned in fleece. How are you keeping warm?

--Jean

 

Grumpy Grousings

I'm Oscar. I've taken over the keyboard to bring you some of my musings. 

You all know that I'm aging, as Tammy has told you. Well, just so you know, it's not all bad - this getting older thing. Sure, it's harder to jump up on things than it used to be, and sometimes getting down is also a little bit more complicated. But, the good news is, since I can't get onto the kitchen counter now, I don't get in trouble for THAT anymore!

I recommend that you try taking life a little less seriously. Tammy really likes it when I play like a kitten. (I guess it's funny for an old boy like me to chase after toys!) She shared that video of me with you last week. I'm not sure why she thought she needed to capture that. I was just proud of catching the toy, and didn't want to drop it. There are two other cats here who like to horn in on play time, you know! 

And I've also learned that sleeping belly up is the way to go. Let it all hang out! There's no reason not to - don't feel self-conscious. (Tammy, for some reason, seems to think that because I'm belly up, I want my belly rubbed. It wasn't true when I was 2 years old, and it's still not true at almost 15. Some things never change!) 

Oh, and one other thing - cats really like it when their humans decide to be home all the time! It's great to have Tammy at home all day with us, even though she works a lot, she pays attention to us too, and it's great! Remember to spend some time with your pets too, even if you can't stay at home a lot. We like the love and attention! 

(Hey, I didn't sound too grumpy, did I?!) 

--Oscar (with Tammy's typing help)

Duck, Duck, Goose

Remember the children’s game called Duck, Duck, Goose? We’d stand in a circle and the person who was “it” would walk around the outside of the circle, touching each person and say the word “duck.” With girls the taps were always gentle, with boys, sometimes not so gentle.

We’d wait, holding our breath and listening for the one time when instead of saying “duck” the person who was it said, “goose.” If that happened, you had to run around the circle as fast as you could, trying to avoid being tagged. Once caught, you became “it.”

I swear Pepper knows this game.

At least her version of it. We had snow recently. When we went to feed, we found the little herd of oldsters hanging out in the shed. No surprises there.

I could easily get Bud and Pepper into an adjoining pasture, feed them and then return them to their friends and the shelter of the shed. After a couple times of doing that we realized we could drive right into the adjoining pasture, which made things much easier.

If you’ve climbed back and forth through a wire fence that’s been stretched tight, you know how totally clumsy you can look. I was grateful to give that little exercise up for the time being. With horses it seems like you’re always doing something with a fence.

Back to Duck, Duck, Goose

Pepper finished her grain and when I approached her to return her to her friends, she decided she wasn’t quite ready. She made a large circle in the fresh snow with me walking behind her. Every so often I’d get close enough to touch her. That’s when the game flashed into my mind. I felt exactly like that kid who had to keep walking around the circle, because I never could catch the person I’d tagged. (Don’t worry, this has not permanently damaged me. I’ve explored my Duck, Duck, Goose experiences many times in therapy!)

I knew enough to stop this game pretty quickly. In the horse world, chasing a horse never gets you what you want. Horses are prey animals, hard wired to flee when they perceive danger. So I stopped, and sure enough, Pepper came to me. I slipped the lead rope around her neck and led her to the gate.

She was chuckling.

And so was I.

When we got back into the truck, I told my husband that we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose. He looked at me as if I was speaking Chinese. Then he shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder about you,” he muttered.

“Only sometimes?”

That was the sum total of my snappy comeback.

--Jean

Oscar Playing

I've shared quite a bit here lately about my old man, Oscar, and his signs of aging. One day last week, he decided he wanted to PLAY. Usually he'll take a few swipes at a toy and be done with it. But this day, he played with me and their toy for about 30 minutes!

I pulled out my camera and was able to get a few videos of him playing. He likes to get the toy in his mouth and then not let go. He purrs and meows (through the toy - his mouth barely moves!) And then he leads me around. I'm not sure where he thinks he's going, or what he's really doing, but it makes me laugh!

It was so great to see him playing - I enjoyed the time immensely!I hope you enjoy this little video. (The whistle you hear is me. It's Oscar's special whistle. Often he "talks" back to me when I whistle at him!) 

 

--Tammy

The Council of Grandmothers

“Every morning I get up and I pray for all sentient beings…humans, animals, even birds. They all need happiness.”

-Grandmother Tsering Dolma Gyaltong, Tibetan

One afternoon a few months ago when I was feeding our two old sweeties, Baby’s people were walking her back from the barn.

She nickered as she approached. I think it was as much to say hello to me, as it was to greet her herd. Baby is one of my biggest fans because she LOVES the treats I hand out.

I tried to start a conversation. “Hi, I’m Jean.”

The twenty-something girl responded with a lukewarm response.

“She’s such a pretty little thing,” I said as I looked at Baby.

“I guess, but I hope her coat turns darker. Right now, I think she’s kind of ugly.”

I stroked Baby’s neck. “Well, I think she’s adorable just as she is.”

Silence.

The young woman led Baby into the pasture, and then secured the gate. “I don’t know why she hangs out with all these old horses,” she said.

I thought her tone was rather snippy.

“I think she feels safe in this herd,” I answered, not sure why I bothered to continue the discussion.

I felt protective of Baby, who didn’t need to hear that in someone’s eyes, she wasn’t good enough. No one needs to hear that – horse or human.

I felt protective of the band of oldsters who indeed took her in last February when she was new to the pasture. As a yearling, she was inexperienced and vulnerable.  The oldsters provided safety when she was being chased all over the pasture by the young, upstart horses. I wondered if Baby’s people knew any of this.

But what stayed with me all these months later are this young woman’s comments about the old horses. It was as if she really believes they have no value. Like it is something shameful that Baby lives among old horses. And is quite happy with them.

The International Council of Grandmothers

In one of my favorite magazines, Spirituality and Health, I recently read about thirteen grandmothers from indigenous tribes around the world who have come together to promote peace and healing in the world. Each grandmother is a healer in her own tradition. There are medicine women, shamans, and curanderos from Alaska, North, South and Central America, Africa, and Asia. They travel around the world offering blessings and gentle care of Mother Earth. They came together because of a shared vision and prophecy, seeded long ago. Their work is to heal the earth.

They’ve met with the Pope and the Dalai Lama. While their skin may be wrinkled and their bodies bent with age, make no mistake. These are women of great power. And they have something profound to tell us.

One way they get their voice into the world is through a film, For the Next 7 Generations. I hope you take the two minutes to view the trailer. I get teary each time I watch.

Is it possible that these thirteen grandmothers can bring peace and healing to this crazy world? It’s a thought that comforts me. I love knowing that they are quietly going about their work offering prayers, blessings and perhaps a spell or two just to make sure things stick.

As for Baby, she’s already learned the magic of being with the elders.

--Jean

 

Pets and Technology

I actually laughed out loud, all alone in the house, when I saw this video. The frog obviously approves of the graphics!

 

Have any of your pets reacted to your technology? My Oscar likes nature shows on TV - especially birds. And all of the cats react to other cat noises in videos! 

--Tammy

Becoming Invisible in Old Age

In the Seattle airport I stood in line to get sandwiches behind a lovely older woman. She couldn’t have been even five feet tall, because she didn’t clear the counter. She was dressed up, like everyone used to be when they flew. She wore a plaid scarf and a Christmas pin attached to the lapel of her grey coat. Her white hair was perfectly coifed. And she clutched her pocketbook to her side, like it held the crown jewels.

She Just Wanted a Cookie

She had chosen a pre-packaged bagel sandwich and was interested in the cookies that were lined up in front of the cash register. They all looked the same. “Are there different kinds of cookies?” Her voice was soft, barely audible. The clerk ignored her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What kinds of cookies are there?”

The clerk finally seemed to wake up. “They’re all different,” she said with a sigh, her voice devoid of any expression. And of course, she didn’t bother to name the various kinds.

The woman stood on tiptoe and peered at the packages of cookies, as if trying to decipher the miniscule writing. Finally, she chose one. As she went to pay for her lunch, she dropped her cane. Then, when she bent to retrieve the cane, she dropped her wallet.

“Oh for Pete’s sake,” someone muttered behind me. “Get a move on.”

I picked up the wallet and returned it to the now rattled woman.

“I’m holding you up,” she said to me.

I smiled. “I’m in no hurry. Take your time.”

She handed the clerk a twenty and then tucked the change into her wallet. She gathered her lunch, her cane and her dignity, and walked to a table.

“Stupid old lady,” the young man behind me said.

Maybe he thought he was going to miss his plane.

Or maybe he was just being rude.

I considered saying something to him, but decided not to. This is where I definitely could have used Mija’s “stink eye.”

Next Day in the Pasture

When I went out to feed my two old sweeties the next day, I found that the horses had been shut out of the two pastures they’d been in all fall. I didn’t realize it until I’d pulled up to the regular gate and called them. Bud heard me right away and tried to come, but of course he couldn’t because the gate was closed.

I had to drive around to the back gate, which was some distance away, and out of sight for the horses. I unloaded the feed pans and set out to retrieve Bud and Pepper. I didn’t mind the long walk, since I’d spent the previous day in the car, the ferry and finally an airplane. It felt good to move.

Everyone from the large herd was clustered in the shed and the surrounding paddock. It was as if they were confused and didn’t know where to go now that their familiar turf was blocked off. They hadn’t yet figured out that they had access to another large pasture.

Our little herd of oldsters was tucked into the back of the shed. When Bud saw me, he nickered and then tried to get through the knot of horses that blocked the exit. He started and then stopped.

He was afraid.

All the big, younger horses that he didn’t like were in his way. I could feel the anxiety coming off him. He and Pepper would take a few steps and then turn back. There was no way they were going to push through.

They’re old and vulnerable and they know it.

I realized I was going to have to help. I hadn’t brought a lead rope, because usually I don’t need one. I headed back to the car. Bud and Pepper returned to their friends in the corner of the shed. I was still glad to be walking, but I berated myself for not bringing the rope in the first place!

Note to self: Always bring a lead rope.

When I got back to the shed, I circled the rope above my head and the whirring sound worked to disperse the horses. Bud saw a hole and ran through.

Right to the gate that was closed.

I called him, but he was absolutely sure this was the way to his lunch.

All the while, Pepper watched.

I put the halter on Bud and began to lead him toward the new pasture.

That’s when Pepper got it.

“Oh that’s where we’re going,” she seemed to say.

She punched her way through the horses and headed down the lane.

Bud eventually quit resisting me and realized I was taking him the right way.

Once we’d cleared the lane, I let him run along with Pepper.

Crisis averted.

There was a time in Bud’s life when he wasn’t afraid of anything. He’s a big boy and was usually the alpha in the herd. Now he avoids conflict because I believe he knows he can’t win.

As Bud and Pepper tried to get to me, and their lunch, I was reminded of the woman in the airport who was simply trying to get her lunch.

It’s hard to grow old and lose your status in society – horse or human. It makes me sad that we so often treat our seniors with disrespect.

As if they don’t even exist.

As if they are invisible.

--Jean

 

Aging Grumpily

As the old adage goes, it should read gracefully. However, Oscar is not graceful, and he most certainly IS grumpy. (I think I jinxed him to a life as a grouch by naming him Oscar.)

About a month ago, I took Oscar to the vet (while still in CA) because he had licked his belly completely bare. She thought that we should try a flea treatment in case that's why he was licking obsessively. Yikes! Fleas? Icky. I bought two rounds for each kitty, and duly treated them (they're due for round #2 any day now). There were no signs of fleas in the house, on the kitties, or otherwise, but it was a good place to start.

Well, right after treating the cats, we found out about our move. Oscar's bare belly didn't get any worse (but he didn't stop licking), so we went ahead with our move. I figured I would see how he did and if there wasn't improvement, we'd return to the vet here in Oregon. 

During the move, Oscar got more "OCD" about licking his belly. It was completely bare and pink. There was a tiny spot that was a little sore from too much licking. So, I found a time to bring him to the vet here in Lincoln City right after we moved in. 

After taking a look, our vet here determined that he isn't bad enough to need anything like antibiotics. She didn't think it looked like fleas were an issue, though she did say that flea treatment was a good idea anyway. Apparently this area is BAD for fleas (indoors or outdoors). She took a blood sample just to check for anything majorly wrong (Oscar is almost 15!). Her best guess is that he has been stressed out, and this is how it manifests for him. Over-cleaning. I plugged in a Feliway diffuser to try to help calm everyone. If Oscar continues, we'll try putting him in an e-collar to break the cycle. If that doesn't work, we may consider something like kitty Prozac. 

While we were at the vet's office, Oscar made an escape attempt, and jumped off of the high exam table (not too gracefully) and he seems to have hurt his leg or back... he's got a little limp going now. The injustice of a vet visit and then a hurt leg... poor old guy! The good news is - he does seem to be calming down on the licking. We haven't been woken up to the sounds of slurping in a few days now. Maybe he was ready for our move back to Oregon as well!

Have you ever had a pet who obsessively groomed themselves? How did you solve the problem? I'll keep you posted!

--Tammy

Adventures in Moving

Our cats are apparently getting to be old pros at this whole moving thing! They did SO well (overall) during the last week with packing, moving, and getting settled in our new place!

We are back in Oregon! It's so wonderful to be back. In many ways, it feels like we never left. (Partially because we're in the same apartment complex, just one below the one we were in before! It's very odd moving into an identical apartment to where you've lived before.) The cats already seem more at ease, and Ben is VERY happy to be able to go out on the balcony again. (We never had the windows open in California - too hot, or too much traffic, and the balcony wasn't a safe spot for the cats. The photo on the right was taken our first morning back - from our balcony. Devil's Lake State Park.) 

Henry had a couple of mini-adventures (or mis-adventures) last week. The night before the movers arrived to pack up our stuff in CA, he snuck into the guest room where all the boxes were stacked. Somehow he got himself stuck down in a corner and couldn't get out. I went looking for him, and could hear him crying pitifully. Mike thought he was just in the room, but not stuck, but I was pretty sure he couldn't get out. Sure enough, he was stuck. I had to do a little rearranging to move things so he could come back out. Silly cat. 

Then, one night in a hotel, he managed to not only get under a bed that had a solid base, but once under, he got up IN the box springs. This was at 4 a.m., mind you. Again, he cried pitifully until I was able to rescue him. This required pulling the mattress back and "guiding" him to the top of the bed where there was room for him to escape. Silly cat. 

Otherwise, though, this move was very easy. Everyone behaved, and has settled in now that we're here. I snapped this photo on move-in day. The cats were occupying the master closet while the movers were here to keep them safe. They had plenty of room to move about, but it seems that the carriers must have been a safe spot for them! Aren't they cute? 

I'm glad to be through the moving process, and even more glad to be back in Oregon! It's home. My husband starts his new job today, so the cats and I will be settling into our routines here at home!

How have your pets done with moves you've made?

--Tammy

A Cat's New Year Resolutions

Happy New Year from me, Mija! It’s turning out to be a spectacular year so far. I have a confession to make though. The title of this post is misleading. You see, cats do NOT make resolutions.

Why?

Well, it’s simple.

Cats are perfect just as we are.

We have no need to set ourselves up to be better.

One cannot improve upon perfection.

And here’s the thing I’d like you to consider…

The same is true for you.

You are perfect just as you are.

This is something cats have known from the beginning of time.

Present moment = perfect moment.

Sometimes when I sit on Jean’s lap while she is using the computer, I see her email messages that say, “Have your best year ever,” or “This is your year to rock,” or, “Make something happen this year.”

Well hello…

That’s true every single year.

And you don’t have to do anything.

Oh sure, I suppose you could lose a few pounds or save more money, or find a better job if those things are really important to you.

But you must trust me on this. The fact that you don’t have them right now does not make it an imperfect year.

Or you an imperfect person.

If you’re even the tiniest bit willing to follow, those of us in the animal world can lead the way.

Do more things that make your heart soften and your breath come easily. And fewer things that cause you to hold your breath and worry.

Really, it’s that simple.

And say this every day until you believe it:

This present moment is perfect.

And who could ask for more? (Photo of Mija by Serene Calkins Photography)

--Mija (and Jean)

Nosara Wildlife Rescue

I first saw this amazing video on one of my favorite (non-pet) blogs, Jezebel. And yes, true to the blog post title, it did make my heart swell! 

In the video, the filmmaker tells us his story of discovering the Nosara Wildlife Rescue in Costa Rica. He and his girlfriend traveled there while on a vacation to Costa Rica and were introduced to the work they do with orphaned or injured monkeys. 

The video is wonderful, and sad, but worth taking the time to watch. These wonderful people do such good work for these amazing creatures. 

 

--Tammy

Happy New Year!

We here at the Café are wishing you a wonderful celebration of the new year this weekend! And a wonderful, happy new year to come! 

--Laurel, Tammy, and Jean

My New Year's Eve Saga

Here is a tale to share from my New Year's Eve last year!

The morning of New Year’s Eve dawned crisp and cold.

Really cold.

In town the wind had died down and I thought that was a good omen.

After all, what’s a little snow and cold to a girl raised in Wyoming?

About half past noon I bundled up, filled the feed pans and headed to the pasture.

The temperature gauge on the car said it was five degrees.

FIVE DEGREES!!!

I tried to ignore that little tidbit of information.

As I drove across the Interstate, I thought for a moment I was back in the Pacific Northwest.

Was that fog?

Or maybe smoke?

Nope.

It was blowing snow that swept across the road like the Death Eaters in a Harry Potter movie.

I turned into the boarding facility and headed down the lane toward the back pasture. By now the wind was howling and visibility was significantly reduced. I considered turning back, but kept going.

I knew the horses needed the extra calories from the grain to help keep them warm.

And there were the daily meds.

I was scanning the pasture trying to find Bud and Pepper.

I wasn’t paying attention to the road and drove smack dab into snow that had drifted across the road.

I was stuck.

I rocked the car, trying to free it, but that only seemed to dig me in deeper.

#!*@

Thank God for cell phones. I called Rick to come rescue me.

I figured while I waited for the cavalry I’d go ahead and feed.

I couldn’t see the sweeties anywhere.

I started to walk toward the shed, thinking it was a very good bet that’s where they were.

Yep. The whole herd of oldsters was there.

Amazingly the shed was dry, out of the wind and somewhat warm from the sun.

I couldn’t bring myself to lead the horses away from shelter into the wind and blowing snow. So I walked back to the car and got the feed pans.

That’s trip number three across a very long, windy, freezing pasture.

In case you’re counting.

And by the way, those pans of grain are heavy. Especially when you’re trudging through snow. My hands were going numb from the cold, and I was exhausted.

I literally kept saying to myself, “You can do it. Only one more step.” Then I’d say it again.

This was turning into quite the Little House on the Prairie moment.

But I made it to the shed. And there was one very happy appaloosa to greet me.

Pepper on the other hand wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave the shelter.

Even for grain.

I got Bud started and then went in for Miss P.

She was lame again, which explained why she held back. Her leg hurt.

I put a halter on her and led her around the deepest drifts to the food. I had to hold her feed pan, because she couldn’t put weight on her leg and I really wanted her to get the Bute as well as the grain.

Eventually she ate, Bud finished and I handed out a few snacks to the oldsters. I grabbed the empty feed pans, halter and my determination and headed toward the car.

One very slow step at a time.

That’s when my knight in shining armor drove across the field to pick me up. I was never so glad to see him. He and another boarder dug my car out.

It took me the rest of the day, an afghan, one of those rice bags you heat in the microwave, and a twenty-minute shower to defrost. And I was worthless at the party we went to that night. I dropped into bed long before the ball dropped in Times Square.

Just another day in the pasture.

Seriously.

When you share your life with animals – especially large animals like horses, cattle, and llamas that live outdoors, you have to dig really deep on days when it would be much easier to skip a feeding. But here’s the thing, they need care every day – not just the days when the weather is nice.

This commitment to the horses has taught me something about myself. I’ve always been a hard worker, but I haven’t always been disciplined. There are still many areas of my life where I could use a strong dose of do-it-every-day-discipline.

So that was my intention for the New Year. I tried to choose one more thing and show up every day. As if my life depended on it. Because I’m starting to think it just may.

Do you have an intention for the upcoming new year? 

--Jean

 

 

Happy Christmas!

We here at Vet Wisdom Café wish you all the best of holidays! We hope you're able to celebrate with loved ones (furry and human alike). We are taking a couple days off to celebrate too.

In the meantime, enjoy this funny video. It might come in handy as you prepare your gifts for giving! "How to Wrap a Cat" 

 

--Laurel, Tammy, and Jean

12 Dogs of Christmas

This is too funny - I just had to share it with you! Find the full size version at http://www.pet365.co.uk/blog/12-dogs-of-christmas/ (Of course at our house, we'd have to revise to the 12 CATS of Christmas... I'll have to think on that!) :)

--Tammy

Happy News

I thought I'd share some happy news with you.

As you may know if you've been reading our blog for a while, my husband Mike and I recently moved to California. We had been living on the Oregon coast, but my husband had been unable to find a job. When an opportunity came up in Sacramento, we did the responsible thing and took it!

Well, it turns out that responsible doesn't always mean it is the right choice! Things have been very rough for us in CA. It started out with our Henry kitty getting very sick. Thankfully, he has since gained his health back and seems to be back to his crazy self now! Then, Mike was in a bad car accident. It totaled our second car, and Mike has an ongoing whiplash injury. All of the drama from that incident convinced us that we needed to make plans to move back home to Oregon.

California is NOT a good fit for us, and we have learned many lessons during our six months here. Biggest lesson - Oregon is home, and once we return, we aren't leaving! :)

The good news is this: Mike has been offered a new job in Tillamook, Oregon! He will be doing what he loves - training! So, we're on the move again (and boy, are the kitties worried about the return of the cardboard packing boxes!) We will be heading out on January 3 and are heading right back to where we were before, in Lincoln City, OR. Mike will have a commute, but a beautiful and traffic free one!

We're still down to just one car, but I can enjoy being close enough to walk to the things I want to do in Lincoln City. And the cats will gain their balcony back - with supervision, of course!! I think the best part will be the state of things for the humans. They have been able to sense our unhappiness here, and I know that they will be able to sense the change in us as we return home! Though we have SO much to do in the next couple of weeks, I am happier than I have been since we moved to CA.

I'll keep you posted how things go for us and the kitties in our transition! (This photo of Oscar is from a previous move, but I'm sure I'll have the opportunity for more shots just like this one as I pack!)

--Tammy

My Life Coach Has Four Legs

These days, having a life coach seems to be a popular thing. If the stories zooming around the Internet are even partially true, having a life coach and being a life coach comprise a win-win experience.

Over the years, I’ve had my share of teachers, counselors and therapists, but never an honest-to-goodness life coach.

Until recently.

That’s when I realized that I have not one coach, but three. And each has four legs. My coaches are our two old horses – Bud and Pepper, and our geriatric, earless white cat – Mija.

On a daily basis, these three animals/friends/family/coaches help me learn exactly the lessons I need.

Here’s an example:

Yesterday was just “one of those days.” I was tired because I hadn’t slept well. And I had been running from one task to the next for most of the day. And it was chilly. More like cold. I’m still getting my winter attitude going so I wasn’t enjoying the brisk air and dull grey clouds.

When I went out to feed our two old sweeties, I couldn’t find them. This is rare, because they’re usually right at the gate.

Not yesterday.

I grabbed a lead rope and started walking into the pasture. They were in the far corner, happily nibbling at whatever they could find. They didn’t see me.

Right there I made a choice to walk back to the car without feeding them.

Here’s my reasoning:

There was a new taped off fence stretching across the pasture and I could picture them blasting through it, causing all kinds of havoc. Wouldn’t it just be better to let them be? I decided yes, it would.

Besides, I’d planned to go the mosaic studio and I was running late.

One day wouldn’t hurt, I told myself.

You know where this is going, don’t you?

I went to the studio and worked for a couple of hours. Then I got in my car and started for home.

That’s when the voices started. “You still have time to feed them before it gets dark. They’ll be waiting.”

I sighed.

“You’ve worked so hard to get them in shape for the winter. Don’t blow it now.”

I sighed again, and turned my car toward the pasture.

Sure enough, they were waiting.

They both trotted out the gate, seemingly happy to see me. Or at least, to see their feed pans.

We talked.

I apologized.

I handed out snacks to the rest of the oldsters.

Without uttering one sound, my two equine coaches reminded me about the power of keeping my word, and the absolute magic in following a routine.

My reward, in addition to the lovely time with my horses, was a gorgeous watercolor sunset that I would have otherwise missed. And the satisfaction of knowing that I did the right thing.

What lessons are your animals helping you learn? I’d love to know.

--Jean

P.S. Don’t worry about me hearing voices. It happens a lot and I’m still quite sane. (At least I think I am!)

Wouldn't You Like a Companion Elephant?

The holidays are fast approaching!

I want to share a wonderful gift idea with you that has nothing to do with the small companion animals we share our homes with...it has to do with companion elephants!

Last year, Pete and I gave each of our daughters the gift of an orphaned baby elephant.

No, they don't live in our backyard!  They live in Nairobi on the Sheldrick Wildlife Sanctuary.  This organization is rescuing the baby elephants who are orphaned due to the ivory trade.  Poachers kill the mother elephants for their tusks and the babies are left without care and comfort.

Heartbreaking!

But, for as little as $50.00, you can sponsor an elephant and help change its life.  This small donation will bring you the opportunity to choose the elephant you connect with (via photos, the name it has been given, etc.) Then, among many other gifts and news, you will also receive a monthly email update based on your elephant's Keeper's Diary.  This will tell you all about your elephant's care and progress during the previous month.  From time to time, you'll also receive new photos of your "baby."

Elephants have many human-like traits, even displaying emotions and family relationships much like ours. In my view, they are so worth saving!  I can't imagine a world without these gentle giants in it!

If this interests you, check out the wonderful, informative and uplifting website at www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org and choose an orphan to foster.  If you lost a beloved pet during the past year, this might also be a wonderful way to commemorate the love and joy your pet brought to your life.  Make a donation in your pet's name and know that you are honoring your companion animal by "paying it forward" and providing care for a companion elephant!

--Laurel

Friends

When I drove up to the gate I noticed another car parked outside the fence. Beside it was a sorrel horse nose deep in a grain pan, happily munching away. As I got closer I saw that it was Amigo. I should have known since the rest of the herd of oldsters was lined up along the fence.

I uttered a quick hallelujah, thrilled that Amigo was getting some attention. I greeted Amigo and his keeper, and then set out the grain pans for our two old sweeties.

As Bud and Pepper snarfed up grain, Amigo’s keeper and I had a great conversation. It turns out Amigo is only sixteen years old. He’s a youngster, a kid. He could easily run the herd, but he yields to Red.

Amigo and Bud are fast friends. I often see the two of them hanging out with each other, a little apart from everyone else. Amigo’s keeper said that she’d had an offer to board him at a different facility. It would have saved her money and been more convenient.

But she refused.

Amigo is with his friends and she won’t move him.

We feel the same.

The core of this little herd – Bud, Pepper, Amigo and Red has been together for years. They are family. They watch out for each other. I love that. And the keepers watch out for each other’s horses. I like that too.

It made me think about my own herd – my tribe and how comforted I am by having them in my life. Friends are important to me. They help me feel connected, and part of something larger than myself. Friends help me be me. They help me feel safe in the world.

So what about you? Do you have a herd – a tribe? How do friends fit into your life? Let me end with this question: What have you done to be a friend today?

Blessings for the weekend. You’ve become part of my tribe too. Thanks so very much!

--Jean

Release the Chipmunks!

 

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on."  --Henry Ellis

About a week ago, Tammy wrote about realizing that her grumpy cat Oscar was aging.  She described her feelings of anxiety about it and the solution she found to deal with it, which is to spend time now cuddling with and paying attention to Oscar, rather than regretting those missed opportunities later.

This post got me thinking about regrets that might lie in my future.  So I did something bold.

I gave my dog Bear his chipmunks.

You see, two Christmases ago, I gave Bear the best doggie toy he'd ever seen.  It's a furry tree stump with three holes in it.  Inside, snuggled into their "nest", are three stuffed chipmunks.  The idea is that a dog will spend hours figuring out how to get these little rodents out of their nest. This struggle is meant to entertain your dog and keep him busy and happy for hours on end.

Of course, it took Bear about 2 minutes to retrieve all three chipmunks, rip a little leg off each one, and gut them of those wonderful squeaky spheres that lie inside.  After all, it's the squeaky plastic bulb that is the true toy for a dog!

Since Bear had ruined his new toy before I could even get my camera out to record him, I quickly threw away the squeakers, tucked the chipmunks back into their tree, and hid the toy in a drawer.  My plan was to give it to Bear again only when I had time to closely supervise him.  After all, I didn't want the chipmunks shredded beyond repair!

Two years have passed and Tammy's blog made me realize that Bear is aging, too.  I had a vision of coming upon these chipmunks one day in the future, after Bear has passed on, and wondering why I had deprived him of this great toy.

What am I waiting for?  Why am I treating this toy as more special than my beloved dog?

Right then, I knew that Bear needs a little chipmunk cheer in his daily life. 

So, thanks to Tammy, the chipmunks are out and are being lovingly carried all over the house by a very happy Bear and his little buddy Beau.  Compared to Bear, who is a 100-pound plus Chesapeake Bay retriever, the chipmunks are tiny and can be almost entirely hidden inside his mouth. Just the tip of a tail hangs out.

I've rarely seen him happier than when he has a chipmunk in his mouth.

And I've learned a good lesson about preventing pet regrets. (Pictured is my daughter Kaia, with Bear)

--Laurel

Dogs and the Ocean

My husband and I just made a very fast trip up to Oregon last week. He had a job interview in Tillamook (that we're still waiting to hear news about!) and so we took the opportunity to drive back down the coast on our way home. 

All along our way, we saw a lot of happy dogs. Playing on the beaches with their humans, riding in cars with their heads hanging out catching the good smells, and running along our favorite trails. These dogs always made me smile, and I think I learned something from them. 

I was pretty tense after Mike's interview was over and done with. We still don't know if they've chosen him or not, and I was still very nervous about this outcome. We want to move back to Oregon so badly, that I was letting this hope get to me, and make me not enjoy the time we had on the coast! Watching these lovely dogs run, play, and enjoy was something I needed to see. I needed to remember to enjoy our time, and not let the tension and nervousness cloud the rest of our time in Oregon. 

We got to spend two days driving along the coast and visiting our favorite spots. We want Mike to get the job, of course, but even if he doesn't, we got a wonderful visit back to our favorite places. I was able to let go of the tension and enjoy Oregon because of the dogs we saw. I'm so glad I saw all of them and learned something from how much they were enjoying life! 

At one spot we pulled over near Gold Beach, OR, there was a man and his dogs. There were three puppies and an older German Shepherd. As we were watching the waves, this little pack came heading toward us, and I of course, had to stop and pet the pups. They were so sweet, and had so obviously been enjoying their time at the shore! It was just wonderful, and as we pulled away from there to head on south, I was smiling! 

Have you learned any lessons from animals lately? (The photo here is one that I took a couple of years ago in Yachats, OR. I think we saw this very same man and dog this trip too! He had three Golden Retrievers this time, and they were SO exuberant and happy. I laughed out loud watching them!)

--Tammy

Shenanigans in the Pasture

While I was out of town for a few days, my husband took over feeding our two old sweeties. He often accompanies me to the pasture, but lately he’s been at work and the job has fallen largely to me. Bud, Pepper and I have created quite a routine.

Our own little routine that Rick doesn’t always totally follow.

When I heard the news from day one of the feeding, it wasn’t so good.

“When the cat is away, the mice will play.”

Or so the saying goes.

Here’s what went down:

Rick was running late and worn out from a long, hard day.

The horses weren’t kind to him.

When I talked to him that evening and he reported on what had happened, I felt like a parent hearing a bad report from the babysitter.

It seems Bud and Pepper decided to have a bit of a walkabout after eating their grain.

This is really unusual for them. For over a year, they have followed our routine to the letter. Eat grain, have dessert and then go back into the pasture. Many times we don’t even have to direct them. They go on their own. We haven’t even haltered them for months.

But this time was different.

The little nibs of still green grass in the new pasture must have called to them.

Whispered sweet nothings in their pointy ears.

What could a self-respecting horse do except follow the siren song?

Go, of course.

Truth is, the horses are hungry. They are between seasons so to speak. They are still on the pasture – not yet being supplemented with hay. And their pasture is done. Between the heat, the grasshoppers and now the changing of seasons, the grass is worn down to nothing.

So I understand. Really I do. It’s just that Rick wasn’t any too happy to be chasing down horses in the evening, with darkness bearing down. Horses who weren’t too interested in being caught.

He said Pepper especially was eating like a madwoman. Er… mad mare, I guess. Ripping grass as fast as she could get it into her mouth.

I couldn’t have done anything had I been there. It’s just that being away, I felt somehow responsible. Isn’t that crazy? Rick has been around horses longer than I have and is infinitely more capable as a handler. I still felt responsible. Like I’d let him and them down.

What is this thing we women have about being superwoman? Doing it all.

I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan cuz I’m a woman – w-o-m-a-n. I’ll say it again.

Check the lyrics if you’re too young to recognize the song. It didn’t do much for women and our natural superwoman leanings. Most women I know feel responsible for way more than is really within their (our) sphere of influence.

Chime in if you know what I’m talkin’ about.

--Jean

Holiday Magic

This post is a "recycled" post from last holiday season. We thought it was a really great reminder and wanted to share it with you again!

“I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.”           --- Shirley Temple

For those of you who might not know Shirley Temple, she was a child star in the 1930s and ‘40s and one of the most well-known celebrities in the world at the time.  This quote from her made me chuckle.  But, it also made me a bit sad…

It’s so easy to become disillusioned with the world around us!

In fact, that one childhood awakening, when we realize that Santa Claus might not be a real, can send us down the path of suspicion and mistrust for the rest of our lives.

I don’t remember ever being told that Santa isn’t real.

I still cling to my belief in him.

In fact, when I see a picture or a movie about Santa’s workshop at the North Pole, my heart literally skips a beat.  The Polar Express nearly sent me into seizures!

I don’t like the hub-bub and stress of the holidays, but I love, love, love the magic…

To me, there is nothing more magical than sitting in front of a roaring fire with my family and our family pets on Christmas Eve, “waiting for Santa” to visit our home.  Even my dogs seem to believe…

While I’m not disillusioned, you may think I’m delusional!  But the ancient wisdom traditions tell us we get what we believe.  And I believe in the magic of Santa and the holiday season.

Happy Holidays!

--Laurel

Articles you might find helpful:

3 H's of Coping with Holiday Grief

The Good, the Bad, and the Holidays

Aging Pets

I'm experiencing something new. I haven't had a pet live to an old age except for my childhood dog, Beau.

My Oscar grump is 14 years old this year. He is doing extremely well physically so far. He is definitely showing some signs of his age though. He has trouble jumping up on things. Often he has to try a few times before making the jump. I bought him a stool to go by the bed so he wouldn't have to jump so far. He has claimed it as his own, and definitely uses it to get up on the bed. (He also camps out on the stool a lot too.) He's having more trouble cleaning himself too. He can get to one spot pretty well so he cleans the same spot a lot!

So far though, he's healthy. It's just a mental thing for me knowing that he's aging and getting old. I've had Oscar with me since he was eight weeks old! By far, it's the longest relationship I've had! (Even my husband - we've been together seven years - only half the time Oscar and I have!)

I don't borrow trouble, but I do hate facing the fact that Oscar won't be with me forever. I can't imagine life without my grumpy grey. How have you faced the aging of your own pets? I try to enjoy every interaction with Oscar, every time he wants to cuddle up with me, and all the purrs.

--Tammy

We Teach People How to Treat Us

Somewhere in the bajillion self-help books I’ve read, the journals and professional articles I’ve studied, and the wonderful people I’ve worked with, I learned that we teach people how we want to be treated.

And now, the horses have taken me to graduate school.

Again!

Because I’ll tell you this, horses will make you walk your talk. They test and prod and question, much like a wise teacher would. if you don’t believe in yourself, they will keep at you until you do believe.

A trainer we once worked with said horses are looking for a hero. As prey animals, horses want a leader.

Recently, Bud reminded me of this. The past few days he has taken it upon himself  to finish Pepper’s feed.He will nudge her out of the way and then proceed to devour her grain-whatever is left in the pan. Since they are getting meds in their food, this isn’t such a good plan.

So he would push and I would push back. He tried the old “I’m bigger and stronger” routine. If I didn’t know that I couldn’t allow him to get away with muscling me around, I might have fallen for it. He is much bigger than I am.

But I held my ground. Yes, he tested me, just to be  certain I really meant it. I held firm.

And miracle of miracles, he stopped. Oh,he’d shoot me a sidelong glance or two, still testing a bit. But I wouldn’t let him push me out of the way. Finally we came to an agreement.

Whew! Thanks Bud.

I know why people use horses as therapy animals. They are goooooood teachers.

Have you had an experience where you’ve had to hold firm with something or someone?

--Jean

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

We wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving!

--Laurel, Jean, and Tammy

Happy Henry News!

On last Friday before I left to see my parents, Henry had a vet checkup visit.

It was SO encouraging! Our vet was shocked and amazed! Henry, according to her, looks like a different kitty than she has seen! He had started to decline by the time we moved to California and she took him on as a patient. The previous visit, he was at his lowest weight, and he was lethargic and showing all the signs of liver disease.

A month later, he has gained back to almost his original weight (as of our first visit here in CA, that is. He is still skinnier than he used to be, but improving!) He has no hip bones showing anymore! He has pink gums and around his eyes! And he is showing his sweet personality again!

We've taken to calling him the boomerang kitty. He always seems to come back! During the last week while I was gone, he and Mike managed to get along pretty well. There was no barf - that is a major step! (My husband can't deal with it, so this is a major step!) And Mike worked out how to give Henry his medicine with a minimum of pain (on either part!)

It's so great to see that we've made the right decisions, so far, for Henry.

--Tammy

Love Is All There Is

Today, Mija has a short and sweet message for you. Sometimes it's the best way to say something important.

Never, ever apologize for loving someone. Because really, it is all there is. Happy Friday!

--Mija (and Jean)

A Man and his Duck

This might be one of the more unusual friendships I've seen! Star the duck follows his human, Mr. Hayman everywhere! Wherever Barrie goes, Star is there too!

  

Have you ever had a pet that followed you everywhere (duck, dog, or otherwise)?

--Tammy

Is it Reasonable to Expect Fairness in This Crazy World?

Recently as I was feeding my two old sweeties I broke one of the cardinal rules of parenting.It’s a parenting rule for families with more than one child.

I’ve been ignoring this gem of knowledge, this directive, for some time.I just didn’t realize it.

In my defense, I did only raise one child. I never had to learn about navigating the family terrain that comes with multiple kids.

But that would be somewhat of a cop-out since I’ve worked with children and families my entire professional career.

So what was the rule?

This egregious oversight that I committed?

Fairness.

Equal treatment.

I know that in families, parents often twist themselves into pretzels to be fair. The phrase “bend over backwards” comes to mind.

If one child gets to do something, his or her sibling gets to do something of equal import.

If John gets a toy, Susie gets one.

If Shannon gets invited to a birthday party, Billy gets to do something special as well.

You get where I’m going.

You may even have direct experience with the doctrine of fair parenting.

If so, please, please leave a comment below. I want to hear how it’s gone for you.

In the pasture it was Bud who pointed out my lack of fairness.

Here’s how it went down.

For some reason, which is now fuzzy to me, we started feeding Pepper by placing her feed pan in the back of the car, inside the open tailgate. I think it was so that she wouldn’t have to bend down so far to eat her grain.

On the other hand, Bud has never had a bit of trouble eating, in any way, shape or form. We place his feed pan on the ground.

On Friday, he let me know he wasn’t happy with this arrangement.

He’d been giving me clues all week. I simply wasn’t paying attention.

Just minutes after Bud and Pepper started eating, he raised is head, pushed Pepper away from her feed and began eating her grain.

I moved him back to his pan.

Minutes later, he did it again.

So, I picked up his feed pan and placed it in the bed of the car, alongside Pepper’s.

This calmed him and he started eating his own food.

Is this what he wanted all along?

To be fed the same way as Pepper?

She came back to her pan and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Crisis averted.

On Saturday I was feeling quite smug because I thought I’d worked this out. I set both pans in the back of the car, and opened the gate for the sweeties.

Bud immediately went to Pepper’s feed and started munching her grain.

Pepper walked around the car and straight for the bucket of alfalfa cubes.

#@*! (Fill in your expletive of choice.)

I put the cubes out of sight, redirected Bud to his feed pan and walked Pepper to hers.

It’s important that they eat their own food, because each pan is dosed with different medicine. I’m not just being controlling, in case you were wondering.

What did Bud do next?

He nudged Pepper away and started eating her grain.

#@*! (Once more with feeling!)

I muscled him toward his pan, which I’d now placed back on the ground a few feet away from the car.

So much for the doctrine of fairness.

Sometimes things must be as they are for good reason. Fair isn’t always the same as equal.

I’m betting this holds true for families too.

Do tell.

--Jean

If Plants Can Say This, Imagine What Pets Might Say!

Tammy recently wrote a blog about language and animals.  It's long been a topic of interest because don't we all wish science could find a way that would allow our pets to talk to us?

I had to weigh in on this topic because I just read a fascinating article by two university professors who are world-renowned for their neuroscientific research.  This article described recent findings about plant communication from a new field of research called plant neurobiology.  This field examines plant life and interactions and documents forms of cooperation, competitiveness, and signaling.

From these studies, scientists have concluded that, although plants don't have a nervous system like humans and animals, they do have signaling receptors and pathways that allow them to communicate through hormonal and chemical changes.

And the communication they described simply floored me!

• plants can deliberately choose to "talk" with one another. Fungi, for instance, can lie, cheat, retaliate, and withhold oxygen from a selfish mate
• when a neighbor is eaten by an herbivore, some plants like sagebrush can defend themselves by "crying out for help" and attracting carnivorous enemies who will either chase off or eat the herbivore
• plants can forage for food and form personal relationships with microorganisms
• plants can modify their behavior to assure greater survival in their environments

Are these discoveries are startling to you as they are to me?  I just had no idea that plants were capable of such sophisticated behavior and reasoning!

So, if all of this is happening with the flowers, trees, and plant life around us, imagine what is really going on in those brains our pets possess!

I think it may not be long before we can sit down at the dinner table with our cats and dogs and chat about how our days have been....

What conversation are you longing to have with your pet?

--Laurel

Lemons

You know that old saying, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade"? Well, life is handing me a lot of lemons lately! I'm trying to find the lemonade!

First, the good news update: Henry is doing better! Thank you for all the well wishes for him. He's still scrawny, but it appears that he's gaining a little weight, and he is certainly eating. He played with me the other night like a wild man! We're going to take him to the vet again later this week for a check-up, so hopefully she will confirm what I think I'm seeing in him.

And the sour-lemon news: My husband was in a car accident last Friday. What a terrifying phone call to receive! Thankfully, he is OK other than whiplash. His neck and head are hurting, but he is recovering. The car, on the other hand, is not OK. It is a total loss. We're down to one. And we're dealing with insurance, tow yards, and possibly lawyers. Yikes. It's stressful. Life in California has not been an easy road for us, and we're making plans to move back to the home we had discovered in Oregon! We miss it and know that's where we want to be.

So, the lemonade from this accident - it was the push we needed to know that we need to plan on getting back to Oregon - sooner rather than later!

When you have life's bumps in the road, how do you handle them? There have been a lot of tears on my end, but I'm doing better now. Our kitties know that there is something stressful happening, and they've been quite cuddly and "helpful". (Although someone needs to tell Oscar that waking us up at 2 a.m. repeatedly is NOT helpful!) Now, I'm off in search of some sugar to go with these lemons!

--Tammy

Dogs are More Aggressive if Walked by Men

There is a new study out that shows dogs who are walked by men show more aggressive tendencies than if walked by women! According to study results, dogs are four times more likely to threaten and bite other dogs and act aggressively when handled by men.

Petr Rezac and his team wrote, "We propose that the occurrence of threat and biting in dogs on a walk may have some connection with aggressive tendencies and/or impulsivity in people," adding that "dogs are able to perceive subtle messages of threat emitted by another dog. Simultaneously, dogs are unusually skilled at reading human social and communicative behavior." (Full story at MSNBC)

Also found in the study - dogs on leash sniff other dogs more often than when off leash, and they also threaten other dogs more often when on leash. Apparently there is even a term for this phenomenon - it's called leash aggression, and is likely because they can't have their freedom to run around and do what they would "in the wild". 

Have you noticed a difference with your dogs if he/she is walked by a female or a male? I think in our house, this study would simply result in my husband saying that walking the dog was MY job! (Our imaginary dog, of course, as we only have kitties!) (photo from bigstockphoto.com)

--Tammy

A Rich Imagination

We’d just finished feeding our two old sweeties and were loading feed pans and snacks into the car when I saw the rabbit.

“Look,” I whispered to my husband. “It’s Smoke.”

I pointed to the small grayish rabbit hunched statue-like under the mounting stand.

“How do you know this one is Smoke?” my husband asked.

I swung the bucket of Horse Candy into the back of the car. “Oh, I don’t. They’re all named Smoke.”

My husband nodded. “Oh.”

I named them Smoke because they’re invisible. At least they try to be.

“They’re  working under cover.”

“The rabbits are working?” my husband asked, his voice tinged with humor.

“Yup. Covert ops.”

My husband rolled his eyes. “Covert ops?” he asked.

“Yes. Why are you repeating everything I say?” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The rabbits are spooks.”

“Spooks?” my husband repeated.

“You’re doing it again,” I said. “They are spies.”

“I know what spooks are,” my husband replied rather testily. “So what are they investigating?”

“Rustlers,” I answered. “Two men have already died. That’s when they called in the rabbits. They can go deep under cover. I mean, who would suspect a rabbit?”

“Right,” my husband said. “So let me get this straight. The rabbits out here are working under cover investigating a ring of horse thieves.”

“Yup.”

“And you know this because?”

I sighed. “I’m able to communicate with them.”

He nodded again and fired up the engine. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a rich imagination?”

I grinned. “Why honey, that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me. It’s music to a writer’s ears.”

I waved at one of the rabbits sitting by the side of the road. “See ya tomorrow, Smoke.”

He wriggled his ears.

--Jean

Panzee the Chimp

So, we really are a lot alike our ancestors, chimpanzees. This story from Discovery News tells us about Panzee.

Panzee understands more than 130 English language words. She isn't responding to just a particular person's voice, but really understands the words. She can recognize them when spoken in "sine-wave" form - a synthetic speech. Researchers say that her understanding shows that our common ancestors may have been able to use speech like sounds before the evolution of actual speech.

Some of the words that Panzee can understand are tickle, M&M, lemonade, and sparkler. She knows what the words mean and can match them to photos illustrating the word. Researchers say that Panzee can understand these words because of her early experiences with speech, just like a human learns to speak.

I think that my cats can understand a lot more than we will ever know. (OK, maybe not Henry... he's not the brightest bulb...) But, Oscar really does seem to understand us. And Ben... well, Ben is a special case. Often, it feels like he understands our conversations. He reacts in ways that you wouldn't necessarily expect him to, but fit for what we were talking about. Are we anthropomorphizing? Yeah, probably. But... given what we know about Panzee, I think we don't give animals enough credit for understanding us humans! What do you think?

--Tammy

Animals Make Us Better Humans

“Be the person your dog thinks you are.”

I drove past this message posted on the signboard of a local church for several weeks, as I was going to and from my house. It caused me to think about the meaning, which was of course their plan all along.

From my view, one of the reasons we have animals in our lives is to help us be better human beings. The sign could have easily replaced the word cat, or horse, or gerbil for dog. Animals are fabulous teachers, if we’re open to learning what they have to teach us.

For me it’s been a list of core values – big ones really.

 

Things like:

commitment,

compassion,

loyalty,

generosity,

dependability,

selflessness,

unconditional acceptance,

kindness,

courage,

joy and

zest for life.

Previously I wrote about how I overcame my aversion to needles (albeit perhaps temporarily) in order to give Pepper the medication she needed. The bond I have with her and my commitment to her helped me be much more courageous than I would otherwise have been. There’s no way I would have decided one day to face my fear of needles, just for the heck of it. I don’t think most of us would.

But when it comes to rising to the occasion.

When the need is there.

When it makes a difference.

When they are counting on us.

We do it.

We show up.

Face our fears.

We grow into the person our animals think we are.

And it’s a wonderful thing.

As I write this I realize I’ve neglected to add children to this equation. Children and animals make us better human beings. That is if we’re willing.

So tell me, how have your animals or your children helped you grow as a person? Have I left out values or attributes you’d like to add to the discussion?

Please share.

--Jean

Cats and Tranquility

"Let some of the tranquility of the cat curl into me."

--David Harold Rowbothom

Doesn't this quote send waves of peacefulness and contentment through your body?  I feel less stressed by simply reading it!

My cats curl into their naps for most of the day.  When I happen upon them, snoozing in the sun or tucked into a tight corner of a couch, I yearn to dive into slumber beside them.  Most of the time I can't, of course, but I get a mental break just by watching them for a few seconds.

A sleeping cat makes me happy.  Now, I'll hold that image in my mind for the rest of my day and use it as a relaxation tool when I start to feel anxious or upset.  Try it!  It works! (Photo from dreamstime.com)

--Laurel

The Science Behind Napping

Mija has more advice for us today!

I’m an expert at taking naps. It’s a skill I’ve honed for my entire life.

If they awarded medals for napping, I’d have a wall full of gold ones. All cats would. Even some dogs.

And maybe a guinea pig or two.

I have a feeling – call it a cat’s intuition – that some of you aren’t heeding my suggestions.

I’m pulling out the big guns, the SCIENCE, to convince you to take a nap.

I mean today. Take a nap as soon as you finish reading this post if that works for you. But take a nap today, please.

Here’s why.

Scientists at the University of California, Berkeley have been studying napping and they’ve learned some very important things:

• Taking naps not only refreshes the mind, it can make you smarter.
• The more hours you spend awake, the more sluggish your mind becomes. (Have you noticed that cats rarely have sluggish minds? Yes is the correct answer.)
• Taking a nap every day increases your ability to learn.

Have I convinced you yet?

Okay, more science, even though it isn’t my strongest suit. Try to stick with me here.

Professor Matthew Walker puts it this way. Fact-based memories are temporarily stored in a part of the brain called the hippocampus, until they are transferred to the prefrontal cortex. You can think of the hippocampus as your email in-box. When it gets full, you must sleep to clear it out, or you won’t receive any more mail. Picture the important things you need and/or want to learn being bounced into your spam folder. Never to be retrieved until you take a nap.

Or go to bed for the night.

So, seriously, take a nap today.

And tomorrow.

And the next.

--Mija (and Jean)

Regret #4: Was My Face Red!?!!

Many years ago, a typical day at the Colorado State University Veterinary Teaching Hospital found me assisting Cindy, a senior vet student who had a big problem.

While Cindy was out of town taking her California Boards, her wonderful Bernese Mountain dog, Barney, died.

It wasn't totally unexpected.  Barney had been declining for some time and had had surgery a few days before.  He wasn't recovering well, so she'd said her just-in-case good-byes and had me, along with many of her vet school friends, checking on him.  Still, when he died, it threw those of us at the hospital into crisis mode.

The doctor had to deliver the bad news via telephone, never preferable to face-to-face.  Cindy's friends had to make arrangements to remove Barney's body from CCU and store it somewhere until my student returned home.  As the grief counselor on clinics that day, it was my job to deal with Cindy's guilt and regret.  And that wasn't easy.

Cindy was a bubbly, brunette who was a leader in her class when it came to advocating for the human-animal bond and animal welfare issues.  She was the last person who would have intentionally abandoned her dog when he needed her, but she really didn't have a choice about going to California.  If you want to practice medicine in a certain state, you have to pass the Boards given by that state. The Boards are given on a certain date and, if you can't make it, you must wait a long time before you can take them again.  Since Cindy had been in vet school for 4 years and now needed and wanted to make a living in her home state, she had to go.  She didn't want to leave her dog, but she hoped that he would be able to hang on until she returned.

Sometimes our choices are really, really hard and we must make them from the criteria of the "greater good."  And, we must trust that, no matter what happens as a result of that choice, there is understanding and acceptance in the hearts and minds of those involved.  We talked a lot that day about Barney's unconditional love for her and how dogs communicate more telepathically and mysteriously than humans do.  "I know that, even though I wasn't physically there with him when he died, he could feel me with him," Cindy said.  "I haven't stopped thinking about him since I arrived in California and I know he could sense my thoughts and love for him."

I totally agreed! 

While Cindy was struggling with her grief and trying to stay focused on her tests, her brother Richard contacted me and said he and a friend would be driving to Fort Collins to pick up Barney's body.  I agreed to place Barney's body in a casket so they would be able to transport him.  We agreed to meet at the hospital mid-afternoon.

Around 3:00, I'd had no word from Cindy's brother, so I strolled through the hospital waiting room to see if he'd arrived.  I spotted two young men leaning against the appointment desk, talking to one of the receptionists.  Thinking these men were Cindy's brother and his friend, I hurried up behind them and tapped the dark haired one on the shoulder.

"Are you, by any chance, rich?" I asked.

There was a short, awkward pause while they looked at me with confused expressions on their faces.  Finally, the one I'd questioned said, "Isn't that sort of a personal question?"

Sooooooo, I realized that these guys weren't related to Cindy at all and I had just approached a complete stranger, asking him if he had Big Money!

Needless to say, I babbled and blushed my way through an explanation that included many awkward references to a guy named Richard, a sweet dog who had just died and the sad events of the day.

The senior student who was with me on clinics that day thought the whole exchange was hilarious! And my embarrassment did serve a purpose as his recounting of the episode helped lighten the load for all of us during rounds at the end of that long, emotionally-draining day.

And the real Richard did appear and took Barney's body with him.  When I finally met him, I realized I could have avoided the whole upsetting scene if I had simply asked him what he looked like or what he would be wearing.

So, my regret #4 is that I regret not doing that. 

Yet, without my mistake, the day might have been overwhelmingly sad for most of us. So, now I remember "rich" Richard and know that, even in the midst of sadness and grief, a little humor can be healing. (photo from bigstockphotos.com)

--Laurel

Want to Feel Better? Get a Massage!

Messages from Mija

Cats have long known the benefits of massage. As an evolved species (at least in their own minds) thousands of years ago, they incorporated daily massage into their lives. It’s been part of their life routine ever since, plain and simple.

Mija has two distinct daily massage appointments that must be kept – no exceptions. “Doesn’t everyone?” she wonders.

She likes to start her day with a brisk, rather gymnastic massage workout. And she ends her day with a full body contact massage. Of course, some days require a few other appointments as well.

It turns out that massage does far more than just make a person (or cat) feel good. The Touch Research Institute at the University of Miami School of Medicine has conducted over one hundred studies looking at the positive effects of massage on a variety of physical functions and medical conditions.

Among their findings were that massage contributed to making people feel better with results like:

• Diminished pain
• Decreased autoimmune problems
• Enhanced immune function
• Enhanced alertness and performance

Massage reduces the production of Cortisol (a bad-news stress hormone) and increases Oxytocin (the love/cuddle hormone.)

Oh, by the way, Mija wants to make sure you know one more very important fact. The benefits of touching are mutual. When you are massaging your cat, you’re getting good stuff too.

How cool is that!

Don’t have a cat? Too bad.

But you can make do with a dog.

Or each other.

Just get out there and massage someone – with their permission of course. Our world needs  a lot less of those  bad news stress-related hormones and a whole lot  more of the love hormone.

Don’t you agree?

--Mija (and Jean)

Blue Sky and Wide Open Spaces

For the majority of my life, I’ve lived in the west – the land of wide-open spaces and big, blue sky that rolls out endlessly above my head. It’s been part of my life for nearly forever, so I’m embarrassed to admit that sometimes I take it for granted.

A couple of days ago when I was in the pasture feeding our two old sweeties, I commented to Pepper that she lives in an amazing place. The sun was going down, tickling the outline of the foothills in a mélange of purples, oranges, and pinks. The clouds were tinged with the same colors, and had a kind of electric glow going on.

It was stunning.

Breathtaking.

“You are one lucky horse,” I said as I spritzed fly spray on my sweet old mare. “You get to see sunsets like this every day.”

She gave me one of her all-knowing looks as if to agree. “I do live a charmed life,” she would have replied if she could talk. And then I think she would have reminded me that the sky and sunsets are there for me (and you) to see every single day.

Every single day.

It’s just a matter of noticing.

Remembering to pay attention to something besides rushing from errand to errand.

Some years ago, I was driving to an evening meeting, feeling hassled and tired. I wasn’t all that interested in going, but nevertheless I was in my car. At a stoplight I looked up into the sky at the moon. It was full and gleaming yellow.

A big, round, fat moon beaming down at me.

I pulled to the side of the road and just stared into the sky looking at that moon.

After a few minutes, I realized something.

My mood was lighter. I was breathing easier and I felt energized.

All from gazing at the moon.

There’s magic in the sky.

I just forget sometimes.

And if I didn’t have Bud and Pepper to feed, I’d probably forget more often than I do.

How about you?

Are you a sky watcher?

--Jean

The Dessert Bar

“Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.”

This quotation from author Ernestine Ulmer seems to be Pepper’s new motto.

Recently we started something new when we were feeding our two old sweeties. We moved the bucket of Horse Candy and the bucket of alfalfa cubes away from the back of the pickup. There’s a wooden mounting stand a few feet away, closer to the fence and the rest of the hungry herd. We set the two buckets there.

We moved the goodies to set up a separate coffee and dessert bar. Something upscale for our horses.

Okay, not really.

We moved them because Miss Pepper couldn’t concentrate on eating her grain, which is dosed with Bute. It’s made a huge difference in the pain in her old, arthritic knees, so getting the medicine into her is important.

My husband came up with the idea to remove the goodies from Pepper’s line of sight.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Right?

It was a good idea, and worked well for a few days.

When she and Bud finished their grain she would lead them to the dessert bar for their treats.

But Miss Pepper is one smart cookie.

Last night when we opened the gate, she walked straight to the dessert bar. No more messing around with the grain.

She was all over eating her dessert first.

She dipped her head into the bucket of alfalfa cubes and began eating. She seemed quite pleased with herself.

Smart cookie!

Rick got her pointed back to the truck and her pan of grain.

She took a few nibbles and as soon as we weren’t looking, back she walked to the dessert bar.

See what I mean about her being smart?

Once again we re-directed her to the pan of grain.

Big sigh from one brown mare.

And then slowly she began to chew her grain, bit by bit.

You’d think it was poison.

A couple of times she looked toward me, her brown eyes pleading for an invitation.

I had to make sure I wasn’t looking directly at her. I have no willpower. Have you figured out that I am the indulgent one in our family?

It’s not a big leap.

Finally, she was finished with her dinner.

Right away, she walked to the dessert bar, her head high.

“Now I know you won’t send me back,” her expression seemed to say.

Of course, she was right.

She gulped down as many snacks as she could possible get into her mouth at any one time. She looked like a contestant in a pie-eating contest at the County Fair.

It wasn’t all that pretty.

Bud was still at the truck, gleaning up every bit of grain he could find. He hasn’t quite figured out the new system.

Eventually he ambled toward Pepper, who was still happily munching on treats. Who knows how long she would stand there sampling dessert?

It’s a rhetorical question.

What woman in her right mind could answer such a question?

I can’t wait to see what Miss Pepper has in mind for tomorrow.

I love how she keeps us on our toes.

--Jean

Pet Memories

My mom has been writing her "life story" over the past few years. She is writing down a lot of her memories from her own childhood, but also stories about me and surrounding things in my childhood too.

Recently she sent me a piece that she had written about my childhood dog, Beau Beau. It was so interesting and fun to read her story! I didn't remember all of the things that she talked about, so it was great to have her side of things! I thought I would share what she wrote here. Do you have stories like this written down about your pets? As I learned, I didn't remember these details! I've wondered if I shouldn't write down memories like this that I DO have!

From my Mom (Carol) about Beau Beau:

When we moved into town, we didn’t have a dog for a while, but Tammy wanted one in the worst way. We finally gave in. The lady who fixed my mother’s hair told her of a dog who was available. This black poodle had strayed into their daughter’s house in Wellington, but they already had two dogs, so didn’t need another. They had tried to find it’s owner, but had no luck. She suspected he had gotten away from his owners when they stopped on their journey through Colorado. We soon learned that you couldn’t let him out without a leash as he would run away.

They told us he was a ‘chow hound’ and ate a lot, but was a good dog. He was a good dog, and very quiet, but he didn’t eat much. I guess he had felt he wouldn’t get enough with two other dogs to compete with. His name was Joe-Joe, but since we had a son named Joe, we changed it to Beau Beau. Well, he was a French poodle, wasn’t he? He was mostly black, not a miniature, but a little bigger. He was about two years old according to the local vet. He hardly barked at all. Mostly he barked at people he liked when they left. He’d run outside and bark at a black and white shepherd dog, which rode in the back of a pickup. The pickup belonged to a trucker who worked next door. He almost never barked in the house. One time he forgot and barked in the house when the pickup dog was going by and the door was open. He looked so sheepish, and then ran outside to bark some more.

We put a dog door in our back door which opened into a back porch, then the dog yard, so Beau Beau could go out on his own. He ran in and out at will and had a fenced yard to go to on the south of the house. He once woke me up in the night barking on the porch. When I went to see what his problem was, it was a skunk in his yard.  The dog got brave when I came and ran outside and continued barking. I finally got hold of him and put him in the house. I closed the dog door so he couldn’t get out and opened the gate to his fenced yard so the skunk could get out, then went back to bed. I don’t know how the skunk got in, but he did find the gate and was gone in the morning. I was so thankful that Beau Beau didn’t get sprayed.

He hated mice and would nearly break his neck running to where the mousetrap was when it snapped. I gave all the mice to him, and he took them outside and buried them in Tammy’s sandbox. (We didn’t find that out until later.) (This I DO remember!! -Tammy)

When he got out, he thought it was a game and wouldn’t let you catch him easily. Lots of times he wound up at Manweiler’s Store, as they had a corgi dog there. One time he got out and disappeared for a week or so. We just knew he was gone for good. He was such a friendly little dog and would go to anyone. We always thought he was picked up by someone over by the swimming pool about a block from our house. But whoever got him make the mistake of opening the door and he ran home. We were really glad as he was a good little dog and a great pet.

Thanks for writing out these memories of Beau Beau, Mom!

--Tammy

The Kindness of Strangers

Today it's time to hear more from Mija.

The first few months of my kittenhood were spent with the wrong people. I’m not even sure how I got there. I tend to forget unpleasant things.

One day when I was about five months old they moved and left me all alone, outside to fend for myself.

Things could have gone very bad.  Large dogs, coyotes or foxes could have gotten to me.

They didn’t.

I could have been hit by a car. I wasn’t.

I could have starved. I didn’t.

And why?

Because a kindly neighbor man took pity on me. He fed me and brought me into his house. He tried to like me. Really he did.

“I’m just not a cat person,” he would tell me.

As if I didn’t already know that.

He took me to a local veterinarian. It was a really nice place and I could have probably been quite happy living there. But it wasn’t to be.

I went home with two different families, only to be returned. It seems they didn’t care for my beautiful long hair.

That was a bit humiliating, until I told myself that they just weren’t the right ones.

I was waiting for my people, who I knew were coming.

They did come!

The minute we met, I knew these were the ones I’d been waiting for.

She held me and we instantly clicked. Of course I gave her my best purr and cuddling techniques just to seal the deal.

For almost fifteen years I’ve lived with people who love me beyond measure. And I love them the same.

I’d like to reach out to that neighbor. The man who wasn’t a cat person, and thank him for saving my life.

It was a simple act by one person that rippled into the lives of many. You wouldn’t be reading this blog post today if it weren’t for his act of kindness. He was a total stranger who just did the right thing.

I’m ever so grateful that he did.

So…

Who have you touched today with kindness?

--Mija (and Jean)

Five Years Missing

My husband came across this story, and I knew I had to share it with you!

Can you imagine your cat going missing for FIVE years, and then turning up clear across the country? Well, that is what happened to Willow the calico cat.

Willow lived in Colorado as a kitten, and she had a micro-chip implanted. Willow escaped her home during some home renovations. Her owner, Jamie Squires, said that they thought Willow had probably encountered a coyote or some other trouble. They definitely never expected her to turn up so many years later.

They got a call from Animal Care & Control in New York City because of the micro-chip implanted in Willow. Jamie and her husband were very skeptical that it could really be Willow, and waited to tell their kids until they knew for sure! And it turned out, it really was Willow!

Willow isn't back home with her Colorado family yet, but they are making the arrangements for her to come back home. There are no clues as to how she wound up in New York City, but it's sure to have been quite an adventure! She is staying with a foster family until she can return home. They don't think she's been on the streets much as she is a very friendly, well-mannered kitty!

My cats aren't microchipped. But, hearing stories like this one - I think I probably should consider it! I know for future kitties that join us, I will microchip them when they are young. Our old boys probably won't do too much escaping or adventuring at this point! Are your pets microchipped? If not, will you ever consider it? (Photo and full story here.)

--Tammy

Trampoline Cat

Ha! You were expecting a crazy video of a cat on a trampoline, weren't you? Well, not today. 

My husband, Mike, has taken to calling our Henry the trampoline cat. He  just keeps bouncing back! I thought I'd share another update with all of you. I have been so appreciative of your comments and notes regarding Henry. He's my "trouble kitty" and it has been so hard to see him not feeling well for quite a while now. 

So, it is with a glad heart that I can tell you - he seems to be bouncing back, at least for now! He is eating regularly, with gusto, it seems! And he's still taking a few medications that seem to be doing their jobs! His little bones appear to not be sticking out quite as much. And his funny personality seems to be coming through more again. He offers "kisses" more regularly, and "talks" to us much more than he had been! 

This little cat has just about used up those nine lives of his. I think he's on 8 3/4 or so (reminds me of Harry Potter's platform 9 3/4!) So he's earned the title "trampoline cat" for now! Henry may be the only one of us who really loves our new place in CA too. It's sunny all the time, and he can most often be found soaking up the rays in one place or another! 

Thanks again for all of your kind words of support and encouragement. I know they have helped me, and hopefully in turn, Henry too! (This photo was fairly recent, though you can't tell how skinny Henry is! He's in between the blinds and the sliding glass door in the sunshine!)

--Tammy

Ten Things About Miss P

 
People seem to be in love with lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, wish lists, Christmas lists, bucket lists, vacation lists, gratitude lists. The list of lists is endless.

And so, I give you my list of ten things I love about my girl Miss Pepper

1. Pepper is authentic. She is the 100% genuine real deal. She never pretends with anyone. If she likes you, or doesn’t, it’s obvious right away.
2. Pepper knows what she likes and goes for it. All out commitment. There is no “Maybe I like this. I’m just not sure” with her. Alfalfa cubes, horse candy, being around other horses, going for a walk. She’ll let you know. She’s my role model about asking for what I want, and not settling for anything less.
3. Pepper is a detail girl. She pays attention to the world around her. She notices things.  I am in love with her face when it is on full alert. Ears perked up, face open and eyes intense.  I trust her to know what’s going on. The others in her herd do too.
4. There is a spot behind her ears that feels like velvet. The hair is short and so soft. I love to run my fingers along her ear and melt into the softness. It’s focused stress management for me.
5. Pepper has a great sense of humor. She’s not a joke teller or one who plays practical jokes. Hers is more of a dry humor. It goes with her ability to notice things. I know she’s smiling inside most of the time. Especially when I’m doing something rather clumsily. She tolerates me, even finds me amusing.
6. Pepper is a loyal friend. She worries about her herd mates when they are gone. She is especially loyal to Bud. They’ve been together since 1991 and that counts for something in horse and human terms.
7. Pepper tolerates newbies. Horses and humans.
8. Pepper is forgiving. She doesn’t always like the things we ask of her. And yet, she continues to come to us when we ask. Who knows what she’s thinking? But she almost always cuts us some slack. There were a lot of years when I was a total klutz around her. She never made fun of me to my face. Maybe she said things to Bud or one of the others. But never to me. I appreciate that.
9. Pepper is a leader. She makes bold decisions and then lives with them. I attribute my business sense largely to her. Show up, stay in touch, take risks, follow through, and ask for what you want. All come from Miss P.
10. There is a soul inside this mare that is huge. Every day she reminds me to be kind, forgiving, and open to the world around me. She is my teacher, my friend, and my soul mate.

I wish you could know her. Maybe through my words you do. At least a little.

--Jean