Name that kitten!

I found a little Himalayan/Siamese mix and took him home. He reminds me of Baby, the tiny little Siamese I used to have, but noisier! I think the new one protests too much to take seriously. Piper is wrestling and biting him. The new one is howling and carrying on... but not running away. I think he is just a noisy one. I have a feeling they are going to be real buds and I have not been bitten or scratched in twenty-four hours. (I just separated them and put the little one near his hiding place. He did not hide, he turned around and ran after Piper. They are having a high old time.)

Piper came to me at 4 weeks and less than a pound. He is now just short of three months and so pretty. He has nearly tripled his weight. This new one is a small eight weeks and feisty. He has seal point coloring, light beige with dark brown ears, legs, feet and tail. His face is a mask with dark in the middle, getting lighter towards the eyes and chin, and a flattish nose. So he looks very Siamese all over but his Himalayan nose. 

What should I name this blue-eyed babe? I have been thinking of Chatty, because he talks all the time and chat is French for cat. Or Talker, or Squeaks. Not very imaginative, I know. I wish I had a picture to show. (Or knew where my camera was!) 

Suggestions? Please! We've already used Baby, Honey, Buddy, Hunter, Slinky, Marshy, Lily, Parsley, Pepper, David and Anastasia on past pets. If you had a noisy, feisty little kitten, what would you name him? (Lucky?)

Make new friends but keep the old.

I went to the sweetest party on Saturday night. So sweet, like honey, like nectar, like love. A dear old friend turned 60. Tim and his brother Peter, who is also an old friend, decided to invite all the old gang to a party. They used to have a band and brought in the singer, Ron, from Ohio. They played the old songs and it was so incredibly sweet. At the end Peter told me he and his wonderful Deb are moving to upstate NY for a job. This might be the last time I see Peter and Deb and it shook me. I AM grateful to facebook, indeed.

This get together did not feel like nostalgia. Nostalgia hurts, this gathering healed. It was fun to see each other with gray hair. We are still the same, but gray. The boy who was so young in 1973 is just about my age in 2010. Three years is nothing at our age. The redhead is now brown. But we are the same loving hearts. They were happy to see me, and I was happy, so happy to see them. I left before the end so there was no letdown, just peace and love and the reminder that I am blessed with the gift of joy.

Peter and Debbie, this is for you, with love and affection and all best wishes for future happiness.

Day is done

Almost midnight and September 20, 2010 will be over. Just a day like any other day, but a day I put an importance to. A long time ago Maharaji spoke about birthdays. Why do we only celebrate on that particular day? After all, the next day after your birthday is just as significant. Why don't we celebrate our birthday and three days? Why is anniversary 35 so much more significant than 33 and 34, both of which we ignored after our healing ceremony? It must be the decimal system. Still being legally married while living apart has it's own stresses (I need his health insurance). That was shown in the past week when S was released from the hospital, not into my care, but chose instead to go to a friend to recuperate.

So this morning I cried that I was old and poor and unloved. I got into it good. I cried just short of making myself sick. Then I went out and did errands and went to work. Even a crappy job is better than staying at home feeling sorry for myself. I was giving out "Roasted Garlic and Black Bean Nine Grain Tostito Artisan Chips". Try saying that hour after hour and you would get a little punchy too. This one old couple came by and the man asked me if his wife would still kiss him if he smelled like garlic. I asked if she would kiss him before he ate the chips. They both smiled. I said he must be a good kisser and they both really smiled. So I told her to eat a chip too so they would both smell the same and go home and spend the afternoon kissing. They walked away with a real spring in their step, they had to be at least eighty and still very fond of each other.

Earlier I asked a tall woman if I could borrow her even taller husband to clip something on a sign I could not reach. Her name is Carole with an e and she agreed all the best people are (Carols). I started to joke that the chips were 100% natural, we did not add any gravel or plastic soldiers. Oh yeah, I knock myself out at times. I saw an old man with bluish fingers and asked if his hands were cold? Always. I said mine were always hot and rubbed his for a moment. His little old wife laughed when I said he should warm them up under her armpits. (Will I get fired for my big mouth? Not if I keep flogging these samples and pushing the product.) I admired every baby I saw and engaged all the little kids. I showed a little girl how to click her ruby slippers and say, "There's no place like home." I tell you, I sold over 100 bags of expensive chips and stopped feeling sorry for myself.

As an aside, I just want to say I am very proud of the many customers who do take the time to read the nutrition information on labels. America has set the standard in nutritional labeling and foreign manufacturers know they have to meet those standards to sell in the US. We might be fat, but we are informed.

Well, it is now September 21st, 2010 and my first great-nephew is four years old today. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift. That is why they call it the present. Happy Birthday Ethan, I love you.

Day is done
Gone the sun,
From the hills,
From the lakes,
From the sky.
All is well,
Safely rest,
God is nigh.

Attachment

He who is overly attached to his family members experiences fear and sorrow, for the root of all grief is attachment. Thus one should discard attachment to be happy. -Chanakya 

Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go. -Herman Hesse

This has been a hell of a week to be an almost ex-wife. 

As far as I know, Scott is doing as well as can be expected. They released him on Wednesday. Erica picked him up and he is recovering at the home of a friend.

So thanks for all your good wishes.

Kitty tales and life under the visor

1.
I woke up a few minutes ago to find Piper sleeping between my feet. I started to laugh as I thought back seventeen years. My tiny Siamese kitten, Baby, would nestle between my legs and I'd say, "Look, I have a furry little pussy between my legs." My daughters, fifteen and eleven, would yell, "Mom! Stop it" but I would only laugh. I totally cracked myself up embarrassing them. It was the height of motherly fun.

How can that be seventeen years ago? How can I have gotten Baby Boy for my forty-first birthday and how can he be gone for three years already? He made us laugh as a kitten and three months after his death, he made us laugh again. One day in May a friend called S and asked what he was doing. I could only hear this end and it went like this: "Burying a cat... February... in the freezer... in a box... with a label!" It was true the ground was too hard to bury him under the day lilies with our other cats when he died. So we lovingly wrapped a shoebox in tin foil and a Ziploc bag and put him in the freezer. After the phone call we wondered what would have happened if the police had looked in our freezer and found a box labelled: Baby, died February 1, bury when ground thaws.  We laughed and laughed. I loved that little cat.

Spray bottle aversion therapy seems to be working on Piper. He is not biting as often in play and has started letting me pet him while he rests without attacking my hand. I usually find him somewhere under the covers when I wake up. He purrs when he sees me and purrs when I pick him up. I find it comforting to have someone greet me when I come home from work.

2.
For the first time I understand why guys like to wear ball caps. It is the very reason why I don't like wearing one; restricted vision. You can't see above the visor without bending the neck back. It keeps one focused looking straight ahead and down. My job as a demonstrator requires me to wear one and I am always looking down and ahead to a very small area between aisles. I do not get spaced out when I am under the visor. (Sort of like blinders on a horse.)

It is interesting pushing product. There is no ego involved. I put out the product and talk about it. I don't have to like it or dislike it. I talk facts, ten grams of protein and only three grams of fat. It doesn't matter if people take it or decline. The time goes fairly quickly until about three when traffic gets real slow. Then it is four o'clock and time to clean up. Out by four thirty and taking a nap by five. Then, because I slept in the evening, up again at three to blog. It is a funny old life.

Like having a toddler

Having a young kitten around is similar to having a toddler. Piper gets into everything and is having a hard time understanding the word no. He is a biter. If he were still with his mother he would be wrestling and biting his litter mates. If he bit mom too hard, she would bite back. I don't (and won't) bite back. For a while he would cease biting at a sharp word, but now it is the water bottle. Bite me and get spritzed.

I once read that there is a particular moth that is used in scientific research because all specimens react exactly the same. There is no personality to get in the way. Not so humans, and not so cats. I can not remember any other kitten being such a biter. Of course, no other kitten came to me so young. I am a mother, but not a cat mother and must use other skills. Just as when my daughters were tiny, I have to find what works.

When our oldest was a baby we had very little furniture and the stereo equipment sat on the floor. She would approach it and S would say in a very firm voice, "NO!" She would back off and leave it alone. By the time the younger reached that age the stereo was up on a shelf. It didn't matter what we did or said, she was going to touch that equipment; the little Fisher-Price music box turntable would not do. She had her eye on the Bang and Olufson. We finally gave in and taught her how to use it, including how to hold a record.

Well cats are not kids and Piper doesn't want to use a piece of equipment. He wants a piece of me, and frankly if he doesn't stop biting, he is going to be one wet kitty. Have water bottle, will spray. Bring it on you cute thang! (He's sitting in front of the computer purring.)

About that kitten

About five weeks ago I brought an abandoned kitten into my life. The vet thought he was about four weeks old. At twelve ounces, he weighed only three quarters of a pound. We know he spent at least one night alone after being thrown from a car because his sister was rescued from a drainage pipe the day before and luck alone that his rescuers thought to go back and search for siblings. They found one other, my boy Piper.

Time for a progress report. He is getting huge! I am not sure what he weighs but he has doubled in size and  quadrupled in fun. He is going to be long legged tall and long all over. Right now he reminds me of a skinny ten year old boy, always hungry, putting away a ton of food. He makes his own fun. Sometimes in the night I hear a little ball being batted into walls. Right now he is having fun playing soccer with a bottle cap. He carries things from room to room in his mouth amassing his treasures under the bed. So far he has bottle caps, a ribbon, a taffy wrapper, and every used tissue and paper napkin he can steal.

He bats gently at my ankles following me wherever I go and I am learning to look down before stepping backward. He emerges stretching from under the skirt of an armchair when I come home. He greets me and welcomes guests, but only if they are with me. 

At age forty-one I asked for a kitten. I needed something young to offset the independence of teenage daughters. Baby Boy was just right at the time. I loved him dearly all his life and was not looking for another kitten. Piper and I have fallen into each other's life. I rescued him from a short existence in the wild and he repays me with purrs and nips and absolute trust. 

What a kitten! What a cat! 

(I will post pictures after I find where the camera is hiding.)