Accidental Dating

May 12, 2008

Yesterday, I was driving past my local pet shop, the Big Bad Woof, and noticed two big motor coaches parked outside it.

“Oh, they must be having a pet adoption event again.”

Then, “what’s the harm in lookin’?”

There were dogs, several young ones, chewing on each other’s faces and tails.  Fun to watch, but I noticed how relieved I was that they already had folks — potential new homes? — hovering about them.

I went into the Woof, to see what cats might be up for adoption.  No cats in the window there.  Disappointed, I was, but also relieved.

When I came out onto the sidewalk again, I heard someone say something about “the cats,”  so I asked.  (What’s that about the itch ya gotta scratch?  Even though you know you shouldn’t?)  Cats were in the van, so into the van I went.

The minute I saw the 3 kitties up for adoption, a queasy feeling came over me.  You know the one you get when you’re suddenly admitting to yourself you’re not ready to date again, but the guy just rang the doorbell — yeah, that was the feeling:

“Don’t be a wuss!”  I thought.

“You’re just looking.”  I reminded myself.

“They need somebody to love them and save them from –”  a bit of wheedling somewhere inside my head.

“It would be rude, not to mention absurd, to turn and run — from kitties?!”

A volunteer had 10-month old MJ, out on the sofa.  I wanted to pet him, and I did not want to pet him.  I made myself pet him.  He was very sweet.  Big and gangly for his age.  Playful.  And nervously listening to all the noises going on outside the van.  The protective instinct in me wanted to take him home immediately, but a few other parts of me shouted that one down

“It would be irresponsible of you to adopt right now!”

“Think of all the things you said you want to do first.”

“You’re still mourning The Aged”

“It wouldn’t be fair to the new cat.”

“IT’S NOT TIME YET!”

All right already!  Sheesh!

So, clearly it’s not time yet.

I thanked the volunteer for her time, said goodbye to MJ, and left, feeling like a heel as MJ’s earnest eyes followed me out the door.

Note to self: Don’t go pettin’ the shelter kitties when you’ve no intention of taking one home.

Note to MJ: Dear MJ, please forgive me.  I honestly didn’t mean to be a tease!


One cat, Two cats (wordless)

May 7, 2008

A Tortie KittenKitten v Big Kitty2 studious cats2 cats snooze togetherOh, she knows he's there.Their last nap together1 Kitty AngelThe Aged Cat, Mar. 2, 2008Keeping The Aged CloseFlippy Fish & The Aged\'s RemainsShpike Guards the Tortie's RemainsTogether Again2 Kitty AngelsWhat smells so interesting?


Le vieux chat sans puce

May 1, 2008

Le peigne anti-puce du Vieux Chat.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a veterinarian. I am only speaking from personal experience. Before introducing a new means of flea prevention and control, remember to consult your pet’s vet about the safety of the method.

Et alors, . . .
******************************************************

Are you impressed with my fancy French post title?

“But what does it mean?” you might ask. “And why French?”

Well, it means “The flealess Aged Cat,” which is the subject of this post. I don’t know why the French, except that sometimes, The Aged and I conversed in French. He seemed to like the sound of it. And why not? C’est une belle langue! A lovely veil for a not so pretty topic.

Why am I writing about fleas, now that The Aged Cat is beyond the reach of the little demons? Yesterday, I was asked to look at some online comments about the toxicity of certain pet products, in particular flea repellents. I’m afraid I can’t comply with that request at present. In an effort to “buck up,” I’ve imposed on myself a temporary moratorium on bad news intake, since news itself can achieve a level of toxicity.

However, animals are suffering needlessly, and preventing that suffering is a cause I can support. To that end, I will share with you how The Aged and The Tortie remained virtually flea-free from the age of 8 or 9 years until their deaths — a period of nearly 10 years.

First let me say, we tried flea collars, flea tags, flea shampoos. They didn’t work. An attempt at flea powder made us all unhappy, and I was deeply suspicious of it, since the cats were liable to lick it off. We also tried a homemade spray of pennyroyal, eucalyptus and citronella — just a few drops diluted in about 2 pints of water — NOT effective and also suspect.

Here’s what worked for us:

Borax was the most effective and gentlest tool I found to combat fleas. I read about it’s use for this purpose, and so I decided to give it a try. At the time, we were living on what was essentially a sand dune in California, and the fleas there thrived year round. Before using the Borax, I isolated the cats in another room. I then readied the area in much the same manner as I would’ve done before shampooing the carpets — i.e. picking up, vacuuming, moving as much furniture (and other stuff) out of the way as possible. I then poured a line of Borax all along the baseboards, to block the fleas’ line of retreat, and after that, sprinkled Borax over the carpeting. Next, I took a broom and swept the Borax down into the pile of the carpeting. After a few hours, I vacuumed the Borax up. A few months later, I repeated the process.

Why this is effective? — Fleas will drop off of your pets and into your carpets where they lay eggs. Borax contains boric acid and sodium, which burn and dehydrate the fleas and their larvae. Sounds brutal doesn’t it? As Le Vieux would say, “C’est la guerre.”

Nota bene: In large quantities, Borax can be harmful to other living organisms, including cats and humans. Be sure to consult your veterinarian before you try this method. If you try it, distribute the Borax sparingly. Small quantities applied every few months should be sufficient, especially if you combine this approach with combing for fleas, as The Aged Cat, The Tortie and I did. I wear a dust mask, to prevent inhaling the Borax particles when I am spreading it and vacuuming. After vacuuming, you shouldn’t be able to see Borax particles on the surface of your carpet. If you do, you should probably vacuum again.

• The humble but mighty Flea comb + a jar of warm water & dishsoap: Le Vieux aimait beaucoup son peigne anti-puce! The Aged really loved his fleacomb! 5 or 10 minutes a day was all we needed. (If you don’t have 5 or 10 minutes a day to sit with your pet, fleas may not be his only problem.) We sat on the carpet, so that any fleas jumping ship and scurrying down into the pile had the residual Borax to contend with. The jar of soapy water was where I drowned the fleas caught in the Aged’s comb. We always started near the base of the ears and sides of his nose. We started there for 3 reasons:

(1) fleas like to congregate there and are most easily caught where the hair is shorter and less dense;

(2) they’ll start heading toward the other end of the cat/dog, instead of into his ears and nose;

(3) cats luuuuuv being groomed in these spots, and it helps to relax them — very important if you want a cooperative cat!

• A gentle, organic shampoo which is non-toxic to cats. It’s important to keep in mind that as soon as you’re done bathing your cat, your cat’s gonna bathe herself. A lot of shampoos claim to kill and repel fleas. Personally, it seemed to me that the most effective aspects of the bath were the washing off of fleas, eggs, and flea-dirt and then the drowning of fleas in the tub. Don’t forget to wash first and carefully around your pets nose, mouth, ears and anus to discourage the fleas from trying to escape into these orifices.

The best news about the bathing of the cats — by the second or third Borax application, while keeping up the daily combing, it became apparent that I did not have to bathe the cats again. Not for fleas anyway. The Aged and The Tortie went years with no bathing (by me) at all and when, in their last year or two, they had to be bathed by me, fleas were not the reason.

• Other things I think were helpful?

Herbs in the garden, including pennyroyal which is often associated with deterring fleas.

Mouse prevention. If you have mice in your house, they likely have fleas, and the fleas may decide your cats are tastier than mice. This happened to The Aged and The Tortie when some mice, scared out of their nests by some construction in a neighboring building, decided to move into ours. The Aged and The Tortie not only acquired fleas from the mice, but also tapeworms from the fleas. Poor kits! That was an unpleasant occurrence, indeed!

Chanting each morning as the sun comes up: À BAS LES PUCES! À BAS LES PUCES! À BAS LES PUCES!