tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82546472119126064712024-03-15T18:11:14.231-07:00Summerhill Kitten FarmA blog for the feline overlords of the Summerhill Kitten Farm, a division of <a href="http://www.kew.com/kendra/">Kendra Electronic Wonderworks.</a>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.comBlogger1164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-92000525939202931142024-01-26T10:31:00.000-08:002024-01-27T09:59:36.854-08:00The March of Kitty Treats<p style="text-align: left;">"Dragons live forever, but not so little kittens …"</p><p style="text-align: left;">At 13 1/2 years old, Penwiper is still a reasonably limber jumper & climber. But he's no longer quite in the prime of life.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Last week I heard a scrambling noise that sounded like he had missed a jump onto the upstairs hall railing. This is something that he had consistently made for years.</p><p style="text-align: left;">In the past few weeks, I also noticed that he gets onto the kitchen counter for kitty treats differently. Rather than him doing a direct jump from the floor to the counter, he takes the scenic route via the wastebasket at the end of counter as an intermediate step. This is not a terrible thing, but it does say that he's not feeling like two-year-old catten anymore.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-53686660112590331892024-01-05T10:19:00.000-08:002024-01-05T11:37:56.806-08:00A Healthy Start to the Feline New Year<p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">At his last routine exam in early December, we were told Penwiper needed his teeth cleaned and </span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">gingivitis</span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"> taken care of.</span></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">This was delayed because the vet had heard an odd heartbeat and wanted him to be checked by specialist before he was sedated. We did that the following week, and he came out with a clean bill of health. (<i>Excellent</i> news!)</span></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Yesterday was dental day. </span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Penwiper </span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">had to skip breakfast, and Katherine delivered</span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"> him to the veterinarian for the dental work at 11 AM. They were short handed, and so he didn't even get sedated until ~ 2:30 PM. He was home, awake but wobbly, by 6 PM. He's been getting back to his normal purring self since.</span></p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The good news is that he required no extractions, just the cleaning and the treatment of his gingivitis.</span><br /><br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">More good news is that after coming home, by bedtime he nommed not one but two cans of wet food, and then he wiped out the kibble left for him overnight. </span><br /><br /><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">(And the vet said he would not be hungry. Hah!)</span>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-52869727424388232002023-09-25T17:22:00.004-07:002023-09-25T21:40:36.162-07:00A Kitten in His Natural Habitat<p>Since the early days of the Summerhill Kitten Farm, the <a href="https://kitten.kew.com/2006/07/photo-friday-cat-cases_7675.html?m=0">Brothers Catzilla loved diving into luggage</a>, including each one stretching out in half of Katherine's Tumi suit bag (AKA the big Tumi). The boys are gone but not forgotten. Meanwhile the big Tumi lives on, but it's mostly in retirement; these days Katherine mostly uses a small Tumi which can be carried on.<br /><br />Alas, because the small Tumi has gotten used more (and sometimes been checked on the way home), after one too many encounters with evil baggage handlers it has died. Katherine replaced it this week; as the current Senior Prince, Penwiper knew his ancient duty and checked it out the first time she opened it:<br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi71tjB9WSuMDyzVwFD3uH4enuCJYMk3v7x9lgqV53znAzG2AEeI0LhesYiac0vA7hTKeIoGlsdx31gDGcYcSAiY0Ph2Dk5_SDZI00U9DDmEvwzOVGpqqQ9BD5UH_uPQbt8J8bYX0xinsP4nmA_M0ysUssqZ36aXEFbT2fpPtrjMIoANRwaesjZwlnSfFY" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi71tjB9WSuMDyzVwFD3uH4enuCJYMk3v7x9lgqV53znAzG2AEeI0LhesYiac0vA7hTKeIoGlsdx31gDGcYcSAiY0Ph2Dk5_SDZI00U9DDmEvwzOVGpqqQ9BD5UH_uPQbt8J8bYX0xinsP4nmA_M0ysUssqZ36aXEFbT2fpPtrjMIoANRwaesjZwlnSfFY=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Penwiper Checking Out the New Tumi Carry-on</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br />All is right with the world.<p></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-84843125672527599132023-09-08T11:50:00.009-07:002023-09-20T08:35:07.788-07:00 Mellow Mealtime<p>It has been seven weeks since Oscar went over the Rainbow Bridge, leaving Penwiper as the sole Feline Overlord in residence at the Kitten Farm PNW. One could think we now have no cats; we just have Katherine, myself, and Penwiper, nine pounds of a tuxedo-clad, self confident, happy, sociable person with four paws.</p><p>For example, things are more relaxed at mealtime. Penwiper appears for breakfast & dinner, but (unlike Oscar) he doesn't make a production of it; he knows the people-with-thumbs will look after him reasonably promptly. At dawn, he'll quietly appear, make his presence known by a quiet snuggle of a valet, and move on. Oscar used to loudly meow indignantly at the perceived slow service, which resulted in him regularly being booted out of the bedroom and the door shut behind him. Penwiper will occasionally quietly meow in the morning, but the door hasn't been shut on him yet.</p><p>It doesn't hurt that with only one Feline Overlord, we still measure his kibble, but we now leave his dish down; when he doesn't finish promptly he can graze at will.</p><p>And he <b>is</b> his sociable self, gently expanding his love mongering to fill the void of his departed housemates. </p><p>Life is quietly good.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-58153040288414443142023-07-19T18:27:00.002-07:002023-08-12T09:16:35.105-07:00Requiem for the World's Cutest Kitten<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MUCM1PcnwAv2Jwkr0XbY5lRDpZH27SzOAAdyqYeQOqGBMLeqee5CgkQqN3VRf7sLNQ0oNIYTe5Z9KSRd9JpZi5PBPGQSHQ-OrpBv0R2Dl2Fx92hTXWqQrtYZ5iEXP0ULhyhJueUqAd4xRPtkcQ6wIOIdgjGu3-OtQJzrCO-00blHHvWH_WJ9KE2BagQ/s4032/Oscar%20on%20his%20Final%20Day.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Oscar in his last sunbeam on hIs last day" border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MUCM1PcnwAv2Jwkr0XbY5lRDpZH27SzOAAdyqYeQOqGBMLeqee5CgkQqN3VRf7sLNQ0oNIYTe5Z9KSRd9JpZi5PBPGQSHQ-OrpBv0R2Dl2Fx92hTXWqQrtYZ5iEXP0ULhyhJueUqAd4xRPtkcQ6wIOIdgjGu3-OtQJzrCO-00blHHvWH_WJ9KE2BagQ/w400-h300/Oscar%20on%20his%20Final%20Day.jpeg" title="Oscar in a Final Sunbeam on His Last Day" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Oscar in His Final Sunbeam on His Last Day</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I realized some time ago that Oscar (l</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ike Billy before him</span><span style="font-family: arial;">) no longer bounded up the stairs like a limber cat in his prime. Simply put, he was no longer a young kitten. Blood work in past year said he was declining; it said he had both kidney disease and </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: arial; white-space-collapse: preserve;">lymphoma. His behavior changed as well; he was a suspect in a number of urine stains around the house in past few months.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: arial; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Life went on, until this week.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Monday morning, Oscar stopped eating; he left most of his breakfast. Mid-morning I called Kenmore Veterinary Hospital to have him checked; their first appointment available was this afternoon (Wednesday).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tuesday, he did eat half his breakfast, and at noon he stomped into my office demanding lunch. He actually killed half the food left over from breakfast, his most solid meals in a day and half.<br /><br />That was all he ate before going to Vet this afternoon.<br /><br /><span style="color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="background-color: white;">When he was examined, his heart & lungs were normal. However, he was slightly dehydrated and virtually all his lymph nodes were swelled. Based on that and the previous bloodwork, the diagnosis was metastatic lymphoma. Knowing how badly Oscar would take </span><i style="background-color: white;">any</i><span style="background-color: white;"> treatment, we made the sad choice to cut short his suffering.
</span></span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: arial;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="background-color: white;">
</span>Thus with great sadness we announce that Oscar, age 15 and a half, was put to sleep today shortly after 4 PM at Kenmore Veterinary Hospital. He is survived by his sole remaining</span> <span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">housemate, Penwiper.</span></span></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-16479847664150967462023-01-09T12:19:00.001-08:002023-01-09T12:24:25.749-08:00The Inmates Are Running The Asylum (TNG edition)<p>Neither Katherine nor I have traveled much since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic; I haven't been away at all, and Katherine's only trip was to provide aid & comfort to her only brother after he led with his shoulder into a tree while skiing a year ago. But yesterday I drove her down to SeaTac to put her on a plane for ASU Winter Intensive, which runs until Friday in Florida (lucky her!). <br /><br />The only problem is, she didn't tell Oscar, much less get his permission. This leaves the Assistant Cat Valet [Probationary] (that is <b>me) </b>picking up the pieces, including meals, litter box cleaning, and of course snuggles. <br /><br />Oscar has already <i>demanded</i> snuggle sessions twice, and who am I to argue?<br /><br />(I've already cut my indoor walking exercise a bit for the week to leave slack for feline servitude.)</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-2079969528937454912022-09-19T11:36:00.008-07:002023-05-20T11:10:32.926-07:00A Good Thing<p style="text-align: left;">I think we did a Good Thing.</p><p style="text-align: left;">During what turned out to be the final summer of the Brothers Catzilla, we acquired three short cat towers, mostly to encourage Billy to take incremental routes up to desks and counters that he had leaped onto in a single bound in his prime. He took some of the hints but not all of them.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Oscar may still look like the World's Cutest Kitten, but he now is 14 years old (the same age we adopted Emily). He doesn't act as spry as he used to. Oscar (harmlessly) missed the jump onto my desk a couple of weeks ago; now each time he looks up from the floor to my desk, he hesitates and measures the jump two or three times as if he is not sure he can make it. </p><div style="text-align: left;">Over the weekend we put shortest Memorial Billy Tower at the corner of my desk; Oscar took one look at it and bounded up. And better still, nearly <i>every</i> time he looks at my desk, he comes up via the tower without hesitation.<br /><br />My desk and I are almost <b>too </b>popular now.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEir-BiLM2TdBWJSB_VzNKh5gp2gl5uRtCQswRB47Oe-88WNJi0t5pLTdrheUfP-UMcwhTr8LOioobGkKWTaHHhjdc0uGQZ3EPQPqOm2KwY56Cmoh8MpsE_6h9ofVw5xyPdO7B3vWilHX9E15nPvQ_58GrkGEJliFe0ceD8dClo2eViYH3Rx0hDxA9n3" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEir-BiLM2TdBWJSB_VzNKh5gp2gl5uRtCQswRB47Oe-88WNJi0t5pLTdrheUfP-UMcwhTr8LOioobGkKWTaHHhjdc0uGQZ3EPQPqOm2KwY56Cmoh8MpsE_6h9ofVw5xyPdO7B3vWilHX9E15nPvQ_58GrkGEJliFe0ceD8dClo2eViYH3Rx0hDxA9n3=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Oscar napping on the tower </b><b>newly positioned </b><b>for bounding up to my desk</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-17423644490070676122022-06-23T09:42:00.004-07:002022-06-23T16:42:07.340-07:00And Then There Were Two ...<p> From my sister Catherine, Bootsie has been helped over the Rainbow Bridge:</p><blockquote><p>Bootsies, 2006-2022. We are so sad to let her go, but she had a large tumor in her hind leg and had lost half her body weight. It was time.<br /></p></blockquote><p>Now Penwiper and Max (at my sister Margaret's in Syracuse) are only two remaining remaining family Tuxedo Kittens.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0Louisville, KY, USA38.2526647 -85.75845579.9424308638211514 -120.9147057 66.562898536178835 -50.6022057tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-45459272700479261952022-01-26T11:34:00.005-08:002022-01-26T16:44:20.545-08:00The March of Time for the Next Generation<p>With the fading and <a href="https://kitten.kew.com/2020/08/">passing of the Brothers Catzilla in 2020</a>, we are very aware of the limited lifespan of our feline overlords. We saw it coming of course. As the years passed, Billy no longer rushed up the stairs <i>every </i>time or conquered the cat tower as many times during one exercise period. Both cats didn't jump up onto counters and cabinets like they once did.<br /><br />And now, Oscar & Penwiper, our younger set, are 12 1/2 and 11 1/2 years old. Simply put, they aren't really that young anymore either. </p><p>Today, for the first time I saw Penwiper miss his usual jump from kitchen floor to the counter for treats. I thought he would make it; I think he just didn't get the back legs up far quite enough, and of course a formica counter doesn't offer four claw drive traction like wood does. His fall to the floor was harmless, thank goodness.<br /><br />I guided Penwiper to the tower we bought Billy in 2022 for an easier climb to his reward. This may become policy for PW & Oscar.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbi2izKo23_y3RoUMAG6DpG9Nq47KtRb6lCPr_MmnUqtNdl5iZ4L9EMj9BoXqK7cZp6cV5vPYEcri80O4IYRbFPe0fJ1HMFS6RQrvAXX8zbUs2CxV0Fb6UvlNxGkd9Da5SmQkAUv1w6w/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2184" data-original-width="3274" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbi2izKo23_y3RoUMAG6DpG9Nq47KtRb6lCPr_MmnUqtNdl5iZ4L9EMj9BoXqK7cZp6cV5vPYEcri80O4IYRbFPe0fJ1HMFS6RQrvAXX8zbUs2CxV0Fb6UvlNxGkd9Da5SmQkAUv1w6w/w640-h426/Photo+on+1-26-22+at+11.18+AM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>This morning, Penwiper is still good for a happy cuddle and ear cleaning</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-13810546189825600212021-02-06T18:35:00.007-08:002021-02-06T18:44:57.435-08:00Smooth Operators<p>The cat weigh-in was smooth as silk again last night. Doing it weekly helps, as it gets them into a routine.</p><p>I realized the scale wasn't out while we were eating, so I popped up and grabbed it before Oscar showed up. This smooths things later, since equipment is not banging around.</p><p>When Oscar did show up, I popped up again and got the treats out, which promptly got his attention. </p><p>As I headed around the kitchen island, Oscar, thinking I was headed for the stairs to deliver them to him, raced ahead. </p><p>I was <i>actually</i> headed to Penwiper's room to let him in. When PW recognized this, he picked up his pace to a sprint, and dove off the counter for the door as I opened it for him. Then I headed back to the counter.</p><p>Oscar immediately got a clue (he knows PW let into his room means food), and came back into the kitchen. He hopped on the counter before I could get treats on the scale. Treats were offered to Oscar to get him off the scale (to reset it), then on the scale (to weigh him) and then off to the scale (to make room for Penwiper).<br /><br />Lather, rinse, repeat with a released Penwiper.<br /><br />Life was good.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-27722248704059517502021-01-27T14:38:00.002-08:002021-11-04T17:17:26.180-07:00Millie (2000-2021): Another Over the Rainbow Bridge<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> From my sister in Kentucky:<br /></span></p><blockquote><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Millie came into our lives on Oldham County Day in 2000 where a family at one of the booths had a litter of kittens available to good homes. </span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In her younger days she was notorious for scaring small children with her angry sounds, but she never hurt a soul. While she was not thrilled with the addition of baby Bootsies in 2006, they eventually reached detente. And Millie formed a special bond with [our grandson], always accepting his pets and hugs. </span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Her health had deteriorated to the point where we made the decision last night to take that final trip to the vet this morning. She was having none of that, and died on her own terms, peacefully lying down on a mat in the laundry room to take her last breath sometime in the night. </span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="font-size: medium;">RIP, sweet tabby.</span></p></blockquote>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-63383516840683650272020-11-09T12:03:00.006-08:002020-11-09T12:03:49.902-08:00Give Blood<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="ckrjb-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="ckrjb-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="ckrjb-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar is at the vet, a 90-day follow up his thyroid zap In August.
(We can also toss his radioactive litter this week.)</span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="dacnf-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dacnf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dacnf-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="1at98-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="1at98-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="1at98-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Vet tech</b>: "Oscar, we need a blood sample."</span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="942ja-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="942ja-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="942ja-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Oscar</b>: "Nope. Nope. Nope. You want blood, take your own, human."</span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="e8rth-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="e8rth-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="e8rth-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="d2tg3" data-offset-key="q0j8-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="q0j8-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="q0j8-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I left him there while they plan their next move. </span></div></div>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-44430283387284778402020-11-05T13:37:00.003-08:002020-11-05T13:37:29.155-08:00Penwiper, the Fluffy Cuddler<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the record, Penwiper is our only cat ever who trusted humans enough to be cradled on his back like a human baby and be petted there.
</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 18.75px; white-space: pre-wrap;">PW even can have his white tummy rubbed a bit, unlike say the Detweiler's now long departed Radar, who invited you to rub his tummy in order to set up his Venus Flytrap-like feline pounce. (He was FAST, too!)</span></span></p><p></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-38922884155060491092020-11-04T21:33:00.004-08:002021-01-27T14:47:45.929-08:00Closing the Books<p style="text-align: left;"> I was paying other bills online, so I browsed over to the King County Pet Licensing site, and I closed out the records for Billy & Whitey.<br /></p><p>Farewell, old friends.</p><p></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-36225640147658106462020-09-13T12:40:00.004-07:002021-09-22T10:07:37.670-07:00The Departed, in Pictures<p>We've put up raw albums of all our departed overlords:
<br />
</p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>
<a href="https://emily.kew.com" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Her Emilyness
</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="https://kage.kew.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Kage, The Grey Mouser
</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="https://billy.kew.com" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Billy, The Mighty Hunter
</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="https://whitey.kew.com" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Whitey, The Spider-Cat
</a>
</li>
</ul>
<div>We also have our very alive & well Penwiper and Oscar up in albums:
</div>
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>
<a href="https://oscar.kew.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Oscar, The Catzilla in Training
<br />(also known as The World's Cutest Kitten)
</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="https://penwiper.kew.com" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Penwiper, the Fluffy Ninja
<br />(also known as The Doofus of Darkness)
</a>
</li>
</ul>
</div>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-19688237494022428502020-08-18T17:27:00.003-07:002020-08-18T17:37:44.723-07:00Catzilla Coda (all nine lives are precious)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdmqqX1N3bMVaRpu63lWX1iIukqHq7Ypqe2vUGffGvIGSenBcKUAEeCBkHOgU4CgJyoEd2xBn0iU97BC5_-33ubSYNhGFgErOQJQwEwRRKFbj17v-beMytLZtUDwA1ebjbrzqqfBixWsk/s4032/IMG_1164.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdmqqX1N3bMVaRpu63lWX1iIukqHq7Ypqe2vUGffGvIGSenBcKUAEeCBkHOgU4CgJyoEd2xBn0iU97BC5_-33ubSYNhGFgErOQJQwEwRRKFbj17v-beMytLZtUDwA1ebjbrzqqfBixWsk/s640/IMG_1164.jpeg" /></a></div><br />The departure of the Catzilla Brothers left us with a number of things we have no use for in the foreseeable future. My favorite rescue organization, <a href="https://www.meowcatrescue.org/">MEOW Cat Rescue</a>, is closed because of COVID-19, but I asked the right people, and they took a shipment from us.<p></p><div class="moz-cite-prefix">Today I dropped off:<br />
</div><ul>
<li> Two jumbo litter boxes</li>
<li> A box of 1 ml syringes</li>
<li> Food</li>
<ul>
<li> KD prescription canned food (most of a case)</li>
<li> Non-prescription canned food (most of a case)</li>
<li> Bag of TikiCat Sticks (liquid gravy treats)</li>
</ul>
<li> For subcutaneous fluids</li>
<ul>
<li> 3 bags Ringer's lactate solution</li>
<li> 10 burettes</li>
<li> ~ a dozen needles</li>
</ul>
</ul><p>
</p><p></p><p></p><p>All of these items were never used. (Billy was actually put down
before the burettes ordered for him arrived.)<br /><br />The gift of Billy & Whitey, our first rescue cats, to those still waiting.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-25309146611615585212020-08-16T09:00:00.008-07:002023-06-14T13:25:11.626-07:00Requiem for the Spider-Cat<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5etbQ0U7QXHExS9v_K7avjnlJ6mLAjVsGFRUwKgefahpVy6JuNSMIAAtJvGBgYfWKW9LyRIy74B37xefdxUOCjG2oITarEh3tp5mJzcaqsM18oejptRz1jp9HFSKyhV_phmj3kqyXULs/s4032/IMG_1152.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Our Last Picture of Whitey" border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5etbQ0U7QXHExS9v_K7avjnlJ6mLAjVsGFRUwKgefahpVy6JuNSMIAAtJvGBgYfWKW9LyRIy74B37xefdxUOCjG2oITarEh3tp5mJzcaqsM18oejptRz1jp9HFSKyhV_phmj3kqyXULs/w480-h640/IMG_1152.jpeg" title="Our Last Picture of Whitey asleep in my office" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Whitey Asleep in My Office a few Days Ago</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p>A few days ago, I wrote <a href="https://kitten.kew.com/2020/08/the-catzilla-left-behind.html">I didn't know how Whitey was taking the passing of Billy, his littermate and life long housemate</a>. We wonder if he was saddened by his brother's passing, for Whitey's own time comforting us was cut short today.</p><p>I rose at 7 AM this morning, a few minutes early, raked the litter box, and was feeding the younger cats by 7:35. They both finished their meals in one sitting; Oscar did not get the whim as he often does these days to finish upstairs in private. Katherine came down to feed Whitey, and we agreed to take showers and go get bagels before the heat of the day (with a projected high of 96º). I headed up to take my shower while Katherine finished in the kitchen, including unpacking wet food ordered for the Catzillas.<br /><br />We never made it to bagels. Katherine came in the bathroom as I was drying off, and said, "We need to take Whitey to the vet. He had a seizure." </p><p>She thought he was still breathing. I told her to get dressed, and I did the same.<br /><br />When we got downstairs, he was still unconscious on the living floor. Katherine called an emergency vet, who referred her to two more. I looked up the number for Emerald City Emergency Clinic (where we had taken Billy in June) and called them. We decided to go there, and Katherine poured Whitey into a carrier. We agreed on the way in that he might not make it. <br /><br />With Conv-19 restrictions, they came out to the car to take him in his carrier into the building. As soon they started to check him, they called us, and gave us the news.</p><p>With great sadness we announce that Whitey, age 16 and a half, was pronounced deceased today at ~ 9:00 AM at Emerald City Emergency Clinic in Seattle. He was predeceased by his brother Billy by four days, and is survived by his foster nephews Oscar and Penwiper.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-90223411540606264732020-08-13T22:34:00.005-07:002024-02-17T10:36:22.511-08:00Legends of Long Ago<p></p><div style="text-align: center;">"<i>For it is the doom of man they forget</i>" -- Merlin</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I erred when I launched <a href="http://billy.kew.com/">http://billy.kew.com/</a>, it wasn't quite complete. It turns out I had not reviewed a good portion of the 11K photos I have on my disk; I didn't realize a number are missing tags for various cats. <p></p><p>Because of this, I'll reload the site this weekend (it will grow ~ 25%). I'll also reload <a href="http://penwiper.kew.com/">http://penwiper.kew.com/</a> as well, as it has the same problem.</p><p>But my point (for now) is not kitten pictures; it's that looking through the archives reminded me of what Billy had lost over the years. Much of it he lost long ago enough that I'd forgotten he had it. </p><p>He used to hang out on (or least visit) ... </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>the top of cat towers. </li><li>the pony wall which acts as the railing for the stairs.</li><li>the top of kitchen cabinets</li><li>the middle of kitchen cabinets</li><li>the top of bookshelves</li><li>the middle of active bookshelves</li></ul><p></p><p>All of that petered out so long enough ago that I had forgotten the breath of his abilities.</p><p>So yes, our Senior Prince is due for his rest.<br /><br />Rest In Peace, Your Highness.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-33004106747488307362020-08-13T11:22:00.007-07:002020-08-20T16:56:33.744-07:00The Catzilla Left Behind<p>Someone asked how Whitey is taking the passing of Billy, his littermate and housemate from birth. The honest answer is I don't know. </p><p>They were often in the same room together peacefully, and we have numerous pictures of them curled up together. At the same time, they really did lead separate lives. More of Whitey's memorable interactions in the past few years have been with his nemesis Penwiper than with his brother. <br /><br />(Mostly, the Catzilla Brothers, always fed simultaneously, sampled each other's food under the theory<a href="https://kitten.kew.com/2006/06/last-lunch_6346.html"> the contents of the other bowl <i>always</i> tastes better</a>. This does not aid tracking intake!) </p><p>Whitey meowed A LOT last night between 1 AM and 5 AM, but that has not been unheard of over the past year as his eating habits have gotten flaky. He's also been meowing this morning even as I write this.</p><p>(Katherine notes he also mournfully meowed when Billy was in the clinic. Who knows?)</p><p>The thing that I just noticed is that he sat up in the blue chair and meowed. Normally, when he wants food, he comes to the human and meows directly at him/her.</p><p>He quieted each time for a bit after getting food or affection; food seems to quiet him longer. He looked headed for another nap in the blue chair, but then just seemed restless.</p><p>Stress eating? (<i>No</i> idea.)</p><p>Now he's stretched out on the floor for a nap. All I can say to our new Senior Prince is, "Sleep well."</p><p>p.s. Katherine said "He was pretty restless last night. He's often restless lately, but maybe more than usual." That seems accurate.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-5936059364505233002020-08-12T18:30:00.014-07:002022-01-17T11:26:42.674-08:00Requiem for the Mighty Hunter<p> </p><center><em>"When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life"</em><br /> -- Samuel Johnson</center><p></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxs7BNYP42orE-i4RUanp10yzDUpNTXruZeAay1s7hrFQ4mKIvGdyn7NytwcS3EOcRtc08zoxC8yzjXT9zehw2-l0cglVcvY0LhTfnYqXrJj5iKCHGWi5flFEzb9oUs15OLHw70xKo2QA/s4032/IMG_1145.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxs7BNYP42orE-i4RUanp10yzDUpNTXruZeAay1s7hrFQ4mKIvGdyn7NytwcS3EOcRtc08zoxC8yzjXT9zehw2-l0cglVcvY0LhTfnYqXrJj5iKCHGWi5flFEzb9oUs15OLHw70xKo2QA/s640/IMG_1145.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Billy Yesterday<br /></b></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>In the past two months, kidney disease reduced Billy to 11 pounds from 12, and it sapped his energy. Daily intravenous fluid and other medical efforts could not compensate enough.</p><p>Billy was tired. </p>
<p>Billy's love of life could be measured by a Whiskas Kitty Treat. In his prime, the Mighty Hunter expended whatever it took to corner a such treat:</p>
<ul>
<li>Tossed gently? Caught in his mouth.</li>
<li>Thrown hard? Up with a paw like an outfielder. </li>
<li>Under a hutch? Diving after it.</li><li>On top of a cabinet? The leap of a Spider-cat.</li>
<li>Dropped in a puzzle box? The hours of fun promised on the carton became seconds. </li>
<li>Thrown to a nearby housemate? <i>"Possession is 9/10's of the law, dude."</i></li>
</ul>
<p>If his irrationally exuberant efforts knocked a treat he had already chased to the end of the room to the other end, off he would go after it again. </p>
<p>Sadly, Billy's prime is long past. </p>
<p>In the past week, for the first time it was safe to cradle a kitty treat, even an extra yummy Blue Buffalo treat, in the palm of one's hand to offer to Billy. The gentleness with which he took it was very sweet, but it was also not the zealous Billy we knew.</p>
<p>Last night Katherine handed out treats, and Whitey stole Billy's own treats from under his nose.</p>
<p>That Billy had stopped making efforts to extend a paw for a treat dropped a foot away said how drained he was, how close he was to end of the line. </p>
<p>Thus with great sadness we announce that Billy, age 16 and a half, was put to sleep today at ~ 6:15 PM at Kenmore Veterinary Hospital. Katherine was with him as he slipped away. Due to Covid-19 restrictions, I waited in the car; I had already said goodbye with a few last Blue Buffalo treats. </p><p>Billy is survived by his littermate Whitey, and his foster nephews Oscar and Penwiper.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-24377641813749156652020-08-11T18:47:00.009-07:002023-12-17T09:58:09.909-08:00Closing Things Out<p>
Billy intermittently likes to sleep in the dresser drawer for my shorts. He's sometimes been nervous about jumping up when he's wanted the drawer, and so we have also opened the drawer down and to the left as needed to help him climb up.
</p><p>
We've left both drawers open all the time for the past two weeks or so.
</p><p>
I don't think Billy wants to make the effort anymore, and his time is short. (He goes to the vet tomorrow at 2:30 pm.) So I closed the drawers this evening.
</p><p>
I cried. I've cried a lot today.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-59553069140579058502020-08-09T09:18:00.005-07:002021-07-18T10:15:15.217-07:00Twilight of a Mighty Hunter<p>Over the past month, Billy's kidney disease has made him slide from just under 12 pounds to 11 pounds 1 ounce.</p><p>This morning, Billy tried to hop up on my (low) desk and failed to get his hind legs up. He fell back on the floor, unharmed. I scooped him up and put him on the desk. He got a drink and then hopped down cleanly. </p><p>This from a cat who for over a decade easily leaped from floor to kitchen counter and then up to cabinet tops high above the humans.</p><p>I don't know why he didn't use the short tower by my desk just now; he routinely uses its mate in the kitchen up to the kitchen counter. He must think he's still got it for my my desk, which is lower than standard. He doesn't, not really.</p><p>He didn't seem to have good day yesterday, and today isn't looking great, either. If he has enough subpar days in a week, we'll need to talk about giving him the long rest he deserves.</p><p>Billy was supposed to live forever. It was hard to write this post.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-27077474711453564972020-06-30T12:00:00.003-07:002020-08-09T09:31:19.465-07:00Billy in the hospital<p> [<i>This originally written on Facebook, and is posted retroactively here for posterity.</i>]</p><p>Billy's kidney bloodwork came back from the Kenmore Vet. It has landed him a multi-day stay in the hospital.</p><p>Like his brother, Billy has long term kidney issues, but multiple indicators have spiked which suggest a UTI has reached his kidneys. Treatment is subcutis fluids and antibiotics at levels we can't give him at home.</p><p>Because Kenmore Veterinary Hospital is a daytime operation, we were going to take him to AES Kirkland, but they are short staffed. Thus, we all got a trip to Emerald City Emergency Clinic down in Wallingford. </p><p>We left Billy there before he got examined, we're waiting for the call with a status update now.</p><p>Update: Vet has called. No new news really.</p>Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-67418314056619965942020-04-06T15:01:00.002-07:002020-08-11T21:22:12.754-07:00Giving a Extra PawEver since we've allowed Billy on the end of the counter across from the kitty treat cabinet, Bill has used the kitchen wastebasket to cut his vertical leap by six inches or so. Alas, in the last year even the wastebasket has been stretch for him at age 16. <br /><br />Today I did something about it for him, dragging a dining room chair next to the wastebasket as a test of an intermediate step. A few kitty treats showed him the path; he now moves up and down between floor and counter with little issue. I'm happy to see our senior prince moving more easily again.<br /><br />I'll replace the chair with a small cat tower the next time I'm to PetCo.Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0Kitten Farm West47.7690764 -122.236003147.768909400000005 -122.2363181 47.7692434 -122.2356881tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8254647211912606471.post-75937999373077948442019-12-02T09:27:00.000-08:002020-07-05T12:39:17.982-07:00The Kitty Melter, Improved!<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="673kf" data-offset-key="ati3h-0-0">
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="ati3h-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">Katherine gets a major checkmark. Also she gets kudos. (And I get some of the aura).
</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we moved to </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kenmore and Kitten Farm West, the house had a direct vent gas-fueled fireplace (AKA The Kitty Melter). Flick a switch, even during a power outage, and it goes on (the pilot light powers a tiny generator ... I think). It was even installed with an outlet and a wall switch for a fan to actively pull air under the firebox, push the air around the firebox, and blowing it, now heated, out the top. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it didn't have a fan actually installed.
</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">
It had been on my wish list for years to put a fan in. I've poked around and never found a source, and Katherine viewed the entire project as "Drew is tilting at windmills."
I got a break this May when the HVAC contractor who installed our A/C in 2015 came in to do our annual A/C service, and I saw they had "fireplaces" listed on their invoice. I called their office, who pointed me at a second contractor, who pointed me at a third contractor, who pointed me at Amazon. <b>Bingo</b> (and it was cheap). I ordered.
The fan arrived broken, with a spade connector for a wire having come loose. Months passed as we ignored it (it wasn't fireplace season), tried a failed fix, and finally I pinged the Amazon merchant. They asked for photographs, then they asked for our address, and then a new (intact) unit magically appeared.
Interweaved with all this, we opened the fireplace access panel, and we determined that:
</span></span><br />
<ol type="A">
<li><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">The gas feed was in the way, </span></span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">The line needed to be </span></span></span></span></li>
<ol type="a">
<li><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">unhooked and </span></span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">moved out of the way, and</span></span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>not</b> done by us.</span></span></li>
</ol>
</ol>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">I went through another round of phone calls. and this time we ended up with Puget Sound Energy (</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">our gas company</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">). The nice PSE technician who came out explained the flexible metal hose can simply be safely shoved out the way -- no disconnection needed.</span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="ati3h-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Yesterday, it all came together -- after various consultations and a trip by me to the hardware store for two tiny nuts, Katherine got it in.
Windmill defeated!</span></span></div>
</div>
Drew Derbyshirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05317251474221035476noreply@blogger.com0Kitten Farm West47.7690764 -122.236003147.768909400000005 -122.2363181 47.7692434 -122.2356881