Chicken Noodle Soup and a Cat

Colds and flu seem to be running rampant this first week of December. Every other person I know is coughing, sneezing, or puking - which has had the effect of turning me into a Germ-o-phobe. I've become one of those people that carry their little bottle of hand sanitizer everywhere they go. I move to the next line if the cashier at the grocery store is sniffling. I create elaborate excuses to cut conversations short if friends are ill. Speaking of which - I have a question.

Why do people go out in public or drag themselves to work when they're deathly ill? Now I can understand going in if you'd be fired otherwise. But with some folks, it appears to be a badge of honor. "I was running a 102 degree fever this morning and haven't been able to keep anything down for three days!" the sick one will proclaim in the shampoo aisle at Walmart. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that" I respond, although what I really want to say is "WHY are you not at home in bed??! What in heaven's name is so important at Walmart that it couldn't wait a couple of days?" Then I rush out of the store, breathe in some fresh germ-free air, and douse myself in hand sanitizer.

I don't want to be sick during the holidays this year! Last year I was laid up recovering from surgery, and during two of the four Christmas seasons before that I came down with a stomach virus. However, in the event that I do catch one of these germs, at least I have the essential ingredients for a speedy recovery. Progresso Chicken Noodle soup, and a cat. I recommend that everyone have these two remedies on hand as we head into winter. The soup is important, but especially the cat. Even when you're miserable, there's something so comforting and innately healing about a warm kitty snuggled close.

Lucy doing her part to help me recover from surgery last fall.

 

The Dogs of My Childhood

My very first dog was a black dauschund named Spooky. Check out those matching pot bellies! :)  What in the world were they feeding us back then? I don't remember a whole lot about Spooky, just that I loved him and he was fun to play with. Dogs who live with young children need to have lots of patience and be a good sport.

The first dog that I remember well is Taffy, a kind and intelligent Golden Retriever mix. She stole my heart the moment I laid eyes on her, and broke it when she left us. That's the problem with loving dogs - they don't live long enough. I sure did love Taffy. I loved her in that enthusiastic,
'we're-all-gonna-live-forever-and-be-happy' way that we love people and pets when we're young. Without hesitation, without fear, without thinking of anything other than today. Come to think of it, dogs love this way too. Perhaps that's why dogs and children make such a good match.

Taffy's birthday was February 25th. Why this date has stuck in my head for three decades, despite the fact that I can hardly keep track of the birthdays of flesh and blood relatives, I have no idea. But it was a warm spring day about six weeks afterward that my mom, my sister and I piled into the family's Chevrolet and headed out to a stable in the country, where the newspaper claimed that a litter of puppies awaited good homes. The smell of hay and horses confirmed to my young city nose that we had arrived somewhere exotic. I heard the yipping of puppies, and followed the sound while my mom talked to the stable owner. One glance was all it took. My 14 year old heart melted as soon as I saw that fuzzy little ball of fluff. She rode home on my lap and threw up on me. No matter. I was in love. 

I doted on her when she was a baby, and in the years that followed, Taffy became my best friend. She greeted me each day when I came home from school, and most mornings I awoke to her leaping onto my bed, licking my face amidst a great fanfare of tail wags and happy body wiggles. "Where have you been all night?? I missed you! Oh joy, joy, we're together again!" She was smart and quickly learned every trick I taught her - except for how to be a good jogging companion. We never mastered that one, the passing scents were just too interesting.

There was a hide and seek game we played around the hallway and kitchen that always made me laugh. I've tried to teach other dogs that game, but never had any luck. The dogs I've tried to teach always get quite confused. "Look, if I just follow you to your hiding spot, this is all much simpler - I won't lose track of you in the first place." But Taffy got it. When you are a teenager, you think that no one else on earth has ever been through what you are going through, and no one understands you. Taffy understood me. 

Unfortunately, we had Taffy for just seven years before losing her to kidney failure. I was away from home, in my third year of college, and I was devastated. My dorm roommate, bewildered by my profound sadness, and probably worried that I was going to fail my final exams, attempted to reassure me.

"It's okay, you can get another dog."

I can still hear her gentle, concerned voice. It was instantly and dramatically clear to me that my roommate was a different sort of being, one who had never known the love of a family pet. She was genuinely sorry for my sadness, but she could not relate to my loss. I appreciated her attempt to comfort me, but I could no more easily "replace" Taffy than I could replace my sister. Anyone who has ever truly loved, or been loved by, a dog will understand this.

Thankfully, time eased the pain, as time always does. But the years have not erased the love I felt for my childhood companion. If I close my eyes I can still see her big doggie smile and that beautiful feathery waving tail. I can even feel the silky hair on top of her head. In my mind's eye I see her trying to sneak up on me in my hiding spot by the pantry, and I smile at the memory. Hmmm... German Shepherds are smart. Maybe I could teach Lady the hide and seek game.

CAUGHT!

Lady and Lucky are not allowed up on the furniture - they are just too hairy (see Sunday's post!). However, this does not stop them from sneaking up onto a sofa or bed if the opportunity presents itself. Usually the culprit is Lady, and she is sneaky with a capital "S." Generally the only way you know she's been up on the furniture is when you hear a suspicious "thud" on the floor as you're coming up the stairs, and then you find a dog shaped indentation on the bed. On this particular day, I was vacuuming, and suddenly realized I hadn't seen either of the dogs for awhile. I turned off the vacuum and went searching.

              As you can see, Lucky realizes he has been caught doing something wrong and feels contrite. Lady doesn't care. Typical! This scene cracked me up. They don't usually sleep together, but I guess they figured this was an island of safety from the loud vacuum, and I was conveniently distracted and wouldn't notice they were up on the futon. Too funny. I let them stay there till I finished, they were just too cute.



Lady: Yeah yeah yeah, get down off the sofa.
Whatever.



Cat Toe Chronicles

Until Linus and Lucy came along, I had no idea that some cats are born with extra toes. It was such a surprise to see kittens with mittens! Linus (Lucy's late brother) was particularly blessed in the toe department. Not only did he have the extra thumb toes, but he had several extra dewclaws farther up his back paws...where there shouldn't be any toes or claws at all! He was an adorable oddball kitty. I've since learned that these cats are called "polydactyl" or "Hemingway" cats. They first appeared in the mid-1800s and because of their unusual appearance, were often associated with witches - and killed. I am glad that Linus and Lucy did not live in the 1800s!

As people became more accustomed to polydactyl cats, they were believed to be good luck, especially from the viewpoint of sailors. Because they were such good mousers, they were often transported on ships for overseas voyages. The ancestors of today's polydactyl cats in the United States arrived by boat from Europe.

Author Ernest Hemingway had an affinity for these cats, having received one as a gift from a ship's captain when he was living and writing in Key West, Florida. His cats bred and began to populate the small island with polydactyls, which is how these cats came to be known as Hemingway cats. The story of Snowball and her descendents (all 60 of them!) still living at the Hemingway Home and Museum is an interesting one and can be found here: http://www.hemingwayhome.com/HTML/our_cats.htm.

When you become used to living with polydactyl cats, so-called "normal" cats begin to look odd. "How do they walk around on those pointy little feet?" you find yourself wondering. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, the world record for the cat with the most toes goes to Jake, a Canadian cat with 28 toes. Wow Jake, that's a lot of toes!!



Lucy and Linus:
We are good luck kitties!



Hair Hair Everywhere!

Why are the dogs shedding when the weather is turning colder by the day? It happens every year, and has always been a mystery to me. Lady and Lucky shed in the spring - and in the fall too.

Oh, who am I kidding, they shed every single month out of the year. And they take turns - as one stops shedding, the other begins. This pretty much ensures the need for constant vacuuming. It would be nice if they could get on a schedule and both shed at the same time. Then perhaps a few months out of the year it would be possible to do things that normal people do, like wear black pants and vacuum "weekly." I've talked to them about this, but so far they haven't gotten on board with the idea.



You know the shedding is getting bad when even the dog has dog hair on him. Lucky, sprinkled liberally with Lady hair.



The Extended Furry Family



Rumor has it that I was born under a wandering star. My sister claims she has two entire pages in her address book devoted to me. It's true I've moved around a lot in my life, but I'm proud to report that she has not had to cross me out and start a new entry for more than eight years now. However, since I decided early on that I was not the "big city" type, I've always looked forward to holidays as the time to venture over the river and through the woods - back home to the city to visit family. That includes the extended furry family!



Molly wags her whole body -
"Hello! Hello! How have you been?"



I know large families, with lots of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents with not a kitty or a dog or a hamster among them. I am so glad not to be in one of those families! Arriving home to the big city brings not just hugs of greeting, but tail wags and purrs too. Lucky me, lucky us!

This year, by the time all of the relatives had arrived, there were three boxers frolicking in the yard, one cat watching on with interest, and another cat hiding, not to be seen again until everyone was long gone. Among the many blessings we give thanks for this year, one is certainly our family pets. They love us unconditionally, bring us joy, calm our spirits when we're stressed, bring us comfort, and make us laugh with their antics. Plenty to be thankful for indeed.

My sister and Tigger say:
"Whew, Thanksgiving is over! Time for a nap!"

Happy Thanksgiving

 

Wishing you and yours a day filled with joy and gratitude!