Up at five a.m. I think I got a couple hours of sleep between two and four? We just got back from a week visiting my sister and niecelet up in Washington, and came in the door to find the cats' water bowl bone dry and Paris collapsed in the hallway and weakly meowing. We spoon-fed some water and wet cat food into her, then I ended up taking her to the emergency clinic. She was severely dehydrated and in critical condition - her core temperature was five degrees below normal. She weighed only seven pounds. I knew she was light, but I hadn't known she weighed so little. She was at least fifteen years old and the vet made it clear to me that even with hospitalization, her chances weren't great. I had to make the hard call to put her down. I've spent hours crying and I don't know how to explain this to Squiddle when he wakes up and asks where she is.

I should have left more water - though what I left was more than my parents' two cats go through in a week when my parents are out of town. Or I should have tried harder to get one of my cousins to check in on the cats. I think Paris just had so little in the way of reserves that everything collapsed. Sushi, who is by comparison quite sturdy, was just able to shrug it off.

I swear that I felt her weight on me while I was lying in bed earlier. Maybe it was her coming by to let me know it was okay, that she's okay. Stranger things have happened. Ask me sometime about my late grandfather showing up in my and my mother's dreams.

I will miss Paris dreadfully. She was the cat who would tolerate Squiddle and Jazzy touching her, only hissing when the former got too rambunctious. She was very vocal, so much so that had she not already been named when we got her, "Cricket" would have been a good name. She had a stutter-meow that let me know when she was bird-watching, and a deep "mur-OW" that told me when she'd found a lizard in the house. She loved sunbathing in the kitchen garden, and slept on the same spot on the back of the sofa.

It's never hard letting go of a pet, and it's one of those things that makes the ephemerality of the universe seem so cruel. But how much poorer would we be without them in our lives?

I have successfully pissed off my cats twice today. First, by giving them manicures. When I can hear their nails clicking on the tile as they walk across the floor, it's nail-cutting time. Second, by finding a flea on Sushi and subsequently giving them each their first dose of Advantage for the year. They hate having flea stuff applied.

Still, I consider this entirely fair turnabout given that Paris woke me twice last night, at midnight and at 3:30, by meowing and scratching at the bedroom door. Though I dutifully followed her out to the living room each time, I did not discover until much later this morning why she so urgently required my presence. Turns out she (and/or Sushi) had thrown up. Twice.

I'm considering this practice for the squiddle.

Vet's office opened at 8:00am. I was there at 8:05am. I did not get to see a vet until 9:50am. -_-;; It turns out that Sushi has an abcess around one of his claws, so he got the paw shaved and his nails trimmed and a shot of antibiotics, along with twice-daily doses at home. At least it's in goo form rather than pill; I can make him take the goo. Pills are much more problematic.

Also, on hoshikage's recommendation, I cracked open my first book of the year today. And could not put it down.

Title: Captain Vorpatril's Alliance
Author: Lois McMaster Bujold
Length: 422 pages

( review )

This morning, I went to the Farmer's Market and a couple of estate sales with my new(ish) coworker, who is somewhere around my own age. She's very talkative and extroverted, which is kind of the opposite of me; I only get chatty around people I'm comfortable with. It was okay; I kind of feel like she wants a little too much to be friends with me, and I don't know why. I'm not a particularly engaging person.

I've started on a deep-cleaning of the kitchen, which really needs it. (The whole house needs it, but one room at a time.) The long counter is now looking much better; I just have to do the rest of everything. Also, rescued a lizard from Paris. She is now 3 for 0 this year. Sushi needs to work hard to catch up!

Saw The Lorax at the $2 theater. It was a little heavy-handed on the "hey, this is an environmental movie! in case you missed that!", but overall not bad. I did tear up toward the end. And somehow the Lorax's tack reminded me a little of Adam, toward the end of Good Omens: the only way people are going to learn not to kill whales, is if they have to deal with dead whales.

Went to the gym (612 calories burned! most of which while watching Britney Spears music videos, which were preferable to Faux News on another screen) and used probably the last of the garden-grown snow peas in a quite yummy stir-fry for dinner. And now, bed....

The cats HATE having their anti-flea treatment applied. Hate it as in, sometimes I've had to have Wonderful Husband help me corral and hold them down for it.

Yesterday, though, I cheated a little. They want attention and will follow me into the bathroom demanding attention? Let's make use of this....

Easiest time I've had dealing with a pair of reluctant cats. I will have to remember this methodology.

Hopefully they will not.

Things that are amusing: when I go into the main bathroom in response to nature's call, if I am not careful to close the door fully, the cats often come in after me. (If I do close the door fully, they cluster right outside it, waiting as though the door will magically open for them. Which it never has yet. But hope springs eternal.)

If the door is not latched, they each have their own way of accessing the room beyond. Paris, the elder black and white kitty, barrels through like a freight train, knocking the door almost all the way open. Sushi, younger and all white, is a bit more delicate; he uses his head to nudge the door open until he can just squeeze though.

Throne time is apparently prime petting time. You'd think they never got pets in any other location.

Sometimes, however, 1 + 1 =/= 2 for the cats. Like the other day when I was sitting at my sewing desk, ignoring Paris in favor of getting some work done. And Wonderful Husband went to use the toilet.

Wonderful Husband is contact-allergic to cats, and thus rarely pets them. They also regard me as their chief source of food and don't even bother meowing at him for it.

Thus it was with some amusement that I watched Paris take off like a shot, knock the door wide open, come to an abrupt halt as she realized Hey, that's the wrong person peeing!, and hastily retreat.

Fortunately Wonderful Husband was amused as well. :)

Vet called with Paris' test results. The bloodwork was fine, but according to the urinalysis she has an UTI. They recommend three weeks' worth of antibiotics for it, and she got a two-week shot when I took her in on Monday, so I guess in two weeks I'm taking her back for a one-week shot, then taking her back again a week after that for another urinalysis.

Sushi is indeed a special cat. For whatever value of "special" equals "trees himself for the first time just as it starts to rain."

At least I got peas, beans, carrots, and radishes seeded first.

I'm babysitting my dad's new 9-week-old kitten this weekend while my parents go out of town to a wedding. Ziggy's cute and affectionate and my cats, of course, can't stand this stranger intruding in their house. Which means that giving Ziggy social interaction and attention would be so much easier if he wasn't also highly curious and wanting to be exploring this whole big new place with those fascinating older kitties. I sense he is not cut out for a future career as lapcat, given that I can't keep him on mine.

House was 82 degrees when I woke up. Could faintly hear the new attic fan humming along in the morning quiet. Kitties did not move other than their eyes as I went about my morning routine. Made sure they have plenty of water and left the ceiling fan over the sofa on for them. Today's one of those days I'm glad I don't have a fur coat.