Kitty

This post is for me and not particularly of interest if you are not me.

On July 19th, we had to part ways with kitty. The night before that was one of the worst of my life. It's both a blessing and a curse that she went relatively quickly-- she only seemed unwell for maybe a week, but we were still in shock when we had to say goodbye.

It's been about two months, and I still sometimes think she's going to greet me when I come home. I still have to fight urge to meow into the hall to say hello when I open the door. Every part of the house and garden is a place where I remember her habits. She was huge in our life, always nearby, and never in the background like most cats.
"Let's take our coffee into the yard."
"OK, shall I grab the cat, or you?"

She suited Paul perfectly and I worried terribly about him when we lost her.

Everywhere in the house seems to miss her, that sunspot she used to sit in, that stairway of boxes we arranged so she could reach the window, the place she used to sleep in the hall when we were at opposite end of the house.

The way she insisted on coming into the bathroom in the morning to sit while I took a shower, and then demanded to leave while I got ready. At the last house, she'd had a habit of jumping into the bathtub after the shower was turned off.

The way she would always want to sit in between us on the couch-- a mean spirited and jealous cat!

The way she used to sit up on the counter at the old place and swat at the shadows of the birds at the feeder, getting her claws stuck in the curtain.

The way she would yell and bang on the door if Paul went into the front bathroom with her locked out.

In the winter, she would sit by the fire on the floor with us, purring, in a very cat-like state of sweet coziness.

The way she would get your attention and then get you to follow her down the hallway to a certain spot in the kitchen "Let me show you my food bowl!"

The way she'd fight me for my spot at the table-- at the old house she would literally hop into my chair if I got up. At this house, she would just stake a claim under the chair before I got there.

The way she'd sit in my lap if I sat in the reclining chair in the study. This was a cat who never sat in anyone's lap besides Paul. Something about that chair.

The way she'd occasionally get a wild hair up her ass and tear up and down the hallway yowling. This didn't happen as much in the end, presumably because she couldn't run that well with three legs.

She caught a snail once in the backyard of the house we live in now, which must have been a fine moment, since she'd not been much of a hunter for years.

The way she used to love to curl up in the closet of my sewing room on some pile of cordura, which was her favorite material.

The way she would come yelling down the hall when I came home and follow me into the bedroom while I put my stuff down so I could properly pet her up on my return. For a cat that pretended to be standoffish most of the time, she was always pretty excited to see me return. Which lasted for minutes before she went right back to hating me.

Once, we had cut out some crayon and paper antlers and stuck them to her head before walking to dinner when Paul lived in Berkeley; we came home to the adorable sight of the silhouette of a reindeer-cat waiting for us in the window.

When Paul lived in Berkeley, the three of us would spend a lot of time in the garage. She loved to explore all the shelves and stacks of junk, and sometimes get stuck there and require rescue.

The way she would spread out over the night, cramming Paul and I into maybe half of the bed while she got the rest.

The way she'd sit in the yard with us while we drank our coffee, protesting loudly when the spot she'd chosen in the sun made her too hot.

And on and on... this post is for me, and I may add to it later.

In the end, here is what happened:
After a long time of monitoring and treatment, her kidneys finally failed. Kidney failure is very common in older cats. At the same time, however, she also had a large growth, a tumor, that was blocking her colon basically, which we found out about only on her last night. Together these things were not treatable, and I'm only thankful that this turn for the worse seemed to be only the last week of her life. It was painful to see her suffer, but I think it was not terribly long.

I know some people will wonder if this has to do with the carcinoma she had last year, and do we regret drawing it out. First: no, it is not from her carcinoma, and second, no, I do not in any way regret the decision we made to amputate to stop the bone cancer. After recovery, she was basically back to her old self, and the time we got with her was good for all of us-- she was a happy cat (in her own mean-spirited, bitter old lady kind of way) and I do believe that the kidney disease and tumor in her gut were not related. Anyone facing feline carcinoma should trust their vet in that a cat can recover and be very happy for many years with only three legs. (which is still one more leg than I have!)

The cat was overly central to our daily life. I guess some people just have cats as background noise, but we pretty much considered her in every part of our day, and miss her terribly. Some people have made pretty insensitive comments about her being gone, and I'm just going to say that you don't replace a cat any more than you replace a family member. I won't offer to get you a new mom or son or spouse to replace the one that just passed, as though you ran out of toilet paper and I know where you can get some more for a good price. You may have had your ups and downs but losing a family member is not a joke. Making a decision to put a pet down, and then living through one last painful night together, was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Of course, the reality of loving anyone is that some day you will have to say goodbye. But it is always too soon to say goodbye.

From 2005.04.09 Seattle

From 2005.04.09 Seattle

From 2005.04.09 Seattle

From 2006

From 2006

From 2008

From 2007

From 2008

From 2009

Novelty Cat!

Note: the following post is more detailed than most people will find interesting, and that is because this might help someone else, in the way that I found it helpful to read other people's experiences about this. The short version can be found at the bottom of this post.

Over a couple of months, we noticed the cat seemed to be limping slightly. At first, we thought it might be to do with uric acid buildup because she had the beginnings of kidney problems. So we got her the recommended meds and waited a bit, but it only got worse. So, to the vet!

The vet decided to biopsy because it was likely osteosarcoma. The biopsy was fairly major surgery, because, really, anything has to be major on a cat. I think we both thought it would be something like a needle biopsy, but actually, they took out quite a big chunk of bone, and we were both a little sobered by that. The general anaesthesia really messed her up for a few days, and she needed to be pilled.

From 2009

(post biopsy. Shaving the cat is quite eye-opening! This link shows what the stitches look like.)

They referred us to another vet hospital, where there was an oncologist, just for confirmation. We were, at this point, borrowing my parents' car and carting the cat around in a moving box, because this was around the same time we were moving house.

It was around this time we saw the X-Rays they had taken of her before the biopsy, and:

1. It was obvious from the X-Ray that the bone on the bad leg had a different density or texture
2. She had a pellet in her hip, presumable from when she got shot in the eye about 12 years ago. Kitty is gangsta!

The oncologist confirmed it was osteosarcoma, and other tests showed that it had not spread.
Osteosarcoma in cats behaves differently from the way it behaves in dogs. While dogs will typically have it spread and kill them, cats often just need an amputation and that solves the problem. There's no need for chemotherapy or anything like that.

We had the option to have the surgery done at Sunnyvale Vet Clinic, where Paul usually takes the cat, and the second clinic, Veterinary Surgical Associates, where we saw the oncologist. This was a more heartwrenching decision than you'd think. The second place was clearly very professional and top-of-the-line. It was also about 3x the price. Sunnyvale is a smaller, more homey clinic-- well worn, but the people are really nice and they love the cat. We took her there, but it was kind of a sad thought to wonder if we were making the decision solely on price...

At this point, we started getting advice, wanted and unwanted, from others. I looked around on the internet for other people's experiences. The vet thought the cat was pretty healthy (other than being overweight) and recommended amputation. There were a lot of people on the internet saying they had done this with their cat, and the cat recovered and rebalanced quickly. Granted, there were more than a few "let the cat go, put it down" on the internet too, but not one was from someone who had actually gone through this.

Point is, if your cat has osteosarcoma, and it is localized, don't believe the folks who implore you to let go for kitty's sake. Cats get along fine with 3 legs. (she can't count anyway, so how would she know? We just tell her it was always like that.)

So we scheduled the surgery, at Sunnyvale Vet Clinic. In the meantime, she was just beginning to recover from the biopsy surgery. The anesthesia, pain medication, and antibiotics cocktail will make your cat pretty sad and pathetic, and royally screw up their digestive track.

For surgery, we borrowed the car again and Paul dropped her off in the morning, and we picked her up together in the early evening.

She. Was. So. Pathetic.
It was totally heartbreaking to open the box and see her in a little knit stocking with a cone on her head, her usually robust voice raspy, woozy, and scared.

So now you take the cat home, and there's nothing you can do to make the cat happy. What you have to do is focus on not letting the cat hurt herself further, from falling, ripping staples/stitches (she had staples), etc. We tried to remove anything that she might want to climb on. She sat around and cried a lot, and in between, she stumbled around loudly and frantically, confused by her meds, on top of the fact that her balance was gone. It was really depressing for a long while. And again with the digestive problems, but now you add the fact that she has no balance in the litterbox-- it's NOT a pretty sight.

It was pretty bleak around our house for a few weeks, but she started to heal, and the thump/drag sound of her getting down the hall got more rhythmic and less interrupted by loud thunks. the staples came out and the doctor gave her the all-clear. (though she does need to lose some weight to help her single leg support her) She started climbing up on the couch when no one was looking, and we wondered how she got down. Rather theatrically, it turned out, as it was a cartwheel every time. She's gotten a little better at that, but we still have to be really careful what we leave for her to climb on, because we don't want her cartwheeling and injuring herself.

From 2009

(here she is after the amputation, several weeks later. Paul would have killed me if I was taking pictures of her right away. It was not pretty, really-- but it gets better!)

The best part is, her energy level is back up to where it was before she started limping. Before the biopsy, she had gotten quite lethargic, which is hard to discern in a cat due to their inherent love of laying around. But it's clear to me that she was tired from fighting the cancer, and with that gone, she has gotten a little of her energy back.

In the end, I wanted to report this in case anyone else is facing feline osteosarcoma and wondering if amputation is really something they want to go through with. If your cat is otherwise healthy, (or not, like, say, if it is missing an eye and grossly obese) then I say definitely consider it without your own baggage about how you think YOU might be impacted by losing a leg. Cats are totally different, and can get along just fine.

And plus it makes a great novelty when visitors come over.




The Short Version
Paul's cat was misbehaving, and we discovered it was because she had too many legs! So we had her altered into a much cooler novelty cat. Whilst in the process, we found out she was shot in the ass about twelve years ago (presumably at the same time she was shot and lost her eye) and has had the pellet lodged in her hip this entire time. Kitty's tough, yo.
Always remember: never pick a fight with the ugly chick-- she's got nothing to lose.

Updated the "chiggers and beer" post to include MY DAD's YouTube video of the barn swallows! Check it out!

The Birds

Last week it was hot. It was so hot, I said I wouldn't come home Thursday after work. My office is air conditioned, and our house, it was not. It was like 95+ at night.

I have plenty of things I should be doing, but instead, I opted to go for a walk with Paul to the Shoreline waterfront area, to see the sunset. Paul met me at work and we walked out to the Bay.





On the way, we saw jackrabbits and squirrels, and I stopped to drink (I cannot drink while walking)









We had a snack and headed out to the shoreline, where we found a little inlet where the birds were gathering at twilight. We watched as the 15 or so pelicans were joined by more pelicans, which would fly in in small groups. They are master aerialists, flying wing to wing in wide circles as they come in for landing. When there were a good 40 or so pelicans, they all started to swim off together.

Also there were about 15 egrets, maybe 20 night herons, and some avocets, all gathered in the same bay for dinner. It was a scene of incredible beauty, and we are thrilled to have it so nearby.

Bloggy birdies

It is true. I do not write to my blog much anymore.
For one thing, I am busy. I have a job, that I love, and that kes me occupied. Plus there's the whole PMP thing, and the wedding thing. And then, I think I still have hobbies.



One thing I waste entirely too much time on is trying to read the whole internet. You know, the whole thing. Daily. Knowing that is impossible, I keep it to a reasonable bazillion blogs I read in Google Reader. (yes, even before I worked here I was a big fan of the google stuff)

Yesterday I read this wonderful post on my science blogs feed:

Do you remember the first time you ever saw a particular bird species: how the light caressed its feathers, adding fiery depth to color; its innate busyness as it searched for careless insects or plump fruits, or its fierce hope as it courted future mates; the rich sound of its voice as it spoke volumes to its companions; the intense flash of life in its gleaming eyes when it caught sight of you huddled behind your 'scope or binoculars, holding your breath, wishing this singular moment would never end; that special sound of wings snapping through the air as it took flight, leaving you behind, suddenly alone, feet rooted into the moist soil like bricks, while your parched soul rose up alongside?

I encourage you to read the entire post, and see the pictures. Very beautiful, and sad.

The Gaping Maw

I find this inexplicably pleasing

Picture from the Chronicle


This outrages me.

I am not a boat specialist, so maybe someone else can explain to me why the hell freighters are always running into shit and then dumping their oil loads with the slightest puncture in their hulls? Is it necessary to design these things such that the water is separated from 58,000 gallons of oil by a thin sheet of tissue paper?

When I read the initial report, this was a minor incident. A day later, it became clear that that had been absolute bullshit. This is a MASSIVE spill, in a very delicate enclosed marine environment. I just can't believe this is right here in our backyard. Where we have walked on many occasions to observe and enjoy these very birds.

As the past few years we've been making an increasing habit of visiting the marine birds, this depressed me terribly. The Bay had been changing right in front of our eyes-- just in the past few years, the life there had really taken off. It seemed the birds and wildlife had been making a comeback, and then some dipshit with a recent history of running ships aground in the Bay Area runs a freighter into the Bay Bridge? Like it was a tight spot? No one has run into these towers in the 70 years the bridge has been open!

The birds and marine life we have been lucky enough to keep in the Bay Area are so delicate, and so beautiful, and so needed... If we can't design boats better, why the hell are we floating them into such a dense habitat?

Not that I think we couldn't design boats better. I just think no one wants to. Except, maybe the birds want us to?

Fluffy Cat

Last night we came home to Berkeley (from the Salt Lake City trip that I will post about later)
to find Squeeky had not been taken away as planned. We walked into the yard to find Squeeky sitting in the middle of the yard mewing, and two metal food bowls on the bricks, for the two nice downstairs kitties.

This perturbed me for many reasons, including that I knew the owner of these two cats wasn't home and hadn't been for days, indeed, had moved out, telling us that the cats would be picked up last Friday to go to her dad's house.

Cat and two bowls were there, but we had a bad feeling about the little cat, since she was nowhere to be found. Last time she came back from the dad's house, she had lost three or four of the few pounds she ever had (at most ten? to start?) and came back with bones sticking out. She'd lost so much weight, she was eating birdseed to feed herself.

Paul and I are the ones most frequently at the house, and as such, we take it upon ourselves to shower the two downstairs cats with love and, when we can, extra food. But the last trip to the dad's house had taken most of Flluffy's weight away.

A telephone call confirmed our fears. Fluffy had been put to sleep. Something about dehydration and a possible urinary tract infection, and possible kidney damage from said dehydration. As much as we loved the little cat, serious neglect from the proper caretakers had hurt her, and she was either too far gone, or deemed not worth the effort.

R.I.P. little kitty. I'm sorry you landed where you did.

Fluffy cat had grown her personality tenfold since I met her. first a shy, skittish ball of fur who was frightened by the sound of her drool hitting the couch, she gradually gained self-confidence finally to the point of slapping and ambushing the other two, much larger cats in the yard. Once, after she'd spent a few days ambushing Fang repeatedly (and she was too small to hurt them, but kept trying), I pulled a cat claw out of her head while petting her in the garage. She turned into a little scrapper! I declared her a bully; Paul called it "sassy," and was charmed by it. Paul was her favorite, and she'd follow him around the yard, "ack"ing. She rarely could squeak out a real "meow," usually just choking out an "ack... gaaak" instead. She was a beautiful soft little kitty, who we will miss. I can't help but feel we failed her.

Doped up on Dramamine

Saturday night I worked at New Wave City and got in about 2 am. Which meant that I had gotten about 4 hours of sleep when the alarm went off at 6:30 am. No matter! There were BIRDIES and WHALES to go visit! And they would have no lateness.

We got to Fort Mason to meet our boat at about 7:30. I had already taken my Dramamine Less Drowsy an hour before takeoff time, and so at 8 am, we were on our way! With about 40 other people. One of whom was some Marina chicklet (she had not fully grown into a Marina chick, as she was not wearing heels or carrying a large purse) and her boyfriend. She complained about her hair and the ten pounds of makeup she had dutifully applied getting mess up as we made our way out through the bay and into the ocean.

I had worn my entire riding get-up, sans helmet, which, as it turned out, was a very fortunate outfit. Standing on deck gets you really, really wet. And it's cold too, but mostly, wet. Seawater, which is super salty and tastes icky. We stood on the deck most of the time, as sitting inside is more for people who wish to get seasick, which I did not.

We first made our way up along the coast of Marin, never getting close enough that I would have the misfortune of meeting any Marin people. We did come upon some harbor seals in a cove, balancing their fat carefully on tiny rocks. Puppies!

Out at a bouy, we found a bunch of sea lions playing in the water. The picture doesn't do it justice. They were jumping up out of the water over and over, and when they traveled as a pack, they were jumping and propelling themselves they way we imagine dolphins doing, only with less finesse and showiness.

We quickly left the sea lions when someone spotted a whale nearby. And as we chased that whale (not really chased, just trying to get closer), and everyone got to the front right of the boat, I was left on the left side of the boat, and something weird was in the water near our path. At first thought? Dead body. No, wait, too much surface area. Not a whale, too ridgey. Then, holy CRAP! The biggest damn turtle I have ever seen! It's unfortunate that I did not have the camera at this point, because I had a very, very clear shot of this thing. I have never seen a turlte in the wild before, and certainly not on e like this. It must have been about 10 feet long? And was floating near the top of the water nearly directly by where I was standing. Beautiful!

Once the captain saw what we had found, he kind of lost his shit and got on the horn to tell all of the other boats, which all stopped whatever they were doing to rush over to see the Leatherback. Leatherbacks are very rare to sight, and very, very endangered. They will most likely be extinct within the next decade or so. To bad, they are cute. And could probably be saved with some party hat fashion, to warn fishers to get them out of their nets.

After all the other boats had come to see the turtle, and it had become less easy to see anyway, we went back on our way, stopping here and there to see whales. The rest of the people on the boat were starting to get seasick as we headed out to the Farallones, so I thought maybe I'd better take a second dose of Dramomine Less drowsy to make sure I did not get sick. Big mistake! That stuff mess you up! Two days later, and a whole lot of extra sleep hours, and I am just feeling normal again.

The shape of the Faralonnes through the fog emerged slowly around the same time the smell emerged. Nature is stinky, and noisy. As we pulled close to them, the noise of the sea lions and gulls is nearly deafening. The islands are covered, literally, with birds; Cormorants hop up the rock face, murrs are hanging out on the beach, gulls are flying around picking stuff out of the water and carrying it up to the top of the rock (I guess they are nesting up there?)

As we floated away from the Faralonnes, we found the water teeming with jelllyfish. I had also never seen jellyfish in the wild, and to see so many was, frankly, a little much. Somebody should eat them! Like the Leatherback, but unfortunately, he was nowhere near there.

Coming back to the bay was a long trip, and everyone was basically passing out. Trying to keep my eyes open on the way, Paul and I sat in the front of the boat by ourselves and got to see several more whales. Each time we saw some whales, people would rush to the front of the boat and then we couldn't see anymore, nor could I sleep. Bummer. This must be when I got sunburned as well. Fortunately, I was wearing a hat to keep the sun off of my scalp.

Eventually, we came back to the bay, where the water got choppy again, and we saw some porpoises. The porpoises were not all that exciting, because you could barely see them in the water. They were not feeling like putting on a performance for us, apparently.

We got back to dock around 3:30 I think (I was so out of it by this point, I just wanted to nap, and could not be bothered by any more whales) and then headed back to Berkeley, where we took a nap, hobbled to dinner, then returned to bed. We were in bed by 8pm! Monday morning I had to be at work early, but still managed a good 9.5 hours of sleep. Unfortunately, no amount of sleep would cut through the thick cloud of Dramamine, and I was drowsy all day Monday as well.

We went whale watching with sfbaywhalewatching.com and I highly recommend them. they seem to really like what they are doing (there is a lot of cool info and pictures at their website) and they allowed a good deal of flexibility in going to see what we wanted, when we wanted. Good times!

Weekend, with birdies!

Saturday we went to Boulder Creek for a surprise birthday party. There were babies and mojitos with no liquor and some very noisy Bong brothers.

Sunday afternoon, we decided to go for a little walk that turned into a 12 or 13 mile hike. We started with beer (of course) and hiked out toward the Presidio. This took us through some fancy-pants neighborhoods, where the only really good way to piss off your 7 million dollar neighbors is by posting a giant robot out front next to their chateau. Bonus if your giant robot appears anatomically "correct."















Paul stopped to pop some flowers, and then found a house he liked.




























Heading down the Lyon Street steps, we found some great views of the bay and Alcatraz. I found a house with nifty glass and stuff.





At the Presidio, we played on the wartoys and then wandered around a bit looking for lunch. Instead, we found parrots. Laughing at us. No pigikeets these! These were big and green and had a different call than the ones in Berkeley or at the Embarcadero. They were too shy to photograph.





















Out by the water, we found a little marsh that had been reclaimed and set aside for birdies. There were a ton of seabirdies that we hadn't seen before. They were rather noisy, and enjoyed divebombing the pond. Fishing? Or just screwing around?




























We finally got out to Fort Point just as they were closing. We just got to run in to the main interior area as they were telling us to get out. Bummer. But we caught some nice touristy photos at the Fort Point parking lot.



































Then Paul climbed down to the rocks to make the starfishes famous. He apparently forgot that we were close enough to the ocean to get waves, and got splashed a whole bunch.




























On the way back from the Fort, we found this friendly bird of prey. He wanted to play with us, but was too shy to ask. Oh well. Better luck next time, birdie!






The hike home was a bit of a death march, but we did make it back around 7:30, in time to return to Berkeley to visit cats and clean up the birdfeeder (catfeeder?)

Wednesday is Paul's birthday. He is teh bestest.

Still Hearting LOLcats

I never took physics.
This is all I know about physics.... KITTIES!
I LIKE KITTIES!!!!!!!




(ruthlessly stolen from BoingBoing)