Category: dogs and cats

My mom’s birthday

My mom celebrated her birthday this weekend. She discovered she was eligible for a free concert on her birthday so off she went to Benaroya Hall. They featured Sibelius’s 2nd (which she enjoyed immensely, she said, much better thanmusic notes the other Sibelius symphonies). Of course she also went to her exercise class. And we stopped by the dog park on our way home.

Unlike me, my mom did not get a treat for her birthday. She stuck to her lifetime eating plan. I’m so proud of her. I want her to stick around till I get old and cross the bridge. After that, she’s on her own.

My birthday was last month. I got to spend the day in the lounge, which was much more fun than going to a concert. And I got to spend my mom’s birthday there too. I played hard all day and I’m still tired. Gotta rest up: tomorrow’s my day to go to the park with Aunt Sara.

Cathy was hoping our fuzzy housemate Ophelia would give her the ultimate present: eating by herself. But no…Ophelia sniffs at food and says, “No thanks.” How can she turn up her nose at chicken and tuna? Meanwhile, the ditzy Creampuff is in heaven. She’s getting everything Ophelia won’t eat.

Me? I get my usual dry, boring crunchies. No big deal. I’d still rather be a dog.

Ophelia nibbled today…big deal!

My mom Cathy was so happy. Last night she was exhausted. She needed to feed Ophelia and the thought of heating up some water and mixing food with milk thistle (for Ophelia’s liver) and goop (the high calorie gel) … well, that was too much, even for my tender-hearted mom.

So she set down a can of Friskies turkey and giblets, right next to Ophelia’s special place in the closet. And Ophelia ate. And ate.

Yaay! My mom was so excited. She called the vet and left a message.

The vet deserves a medal. Mom also emails about the unusual things she finds in Ophelia’s litterbox. I would not be turned off (don’t ask what I eat in the dog park) but we have to be sensitive to our readers, says my mom.

As far as I am concerned…Big Deal. So she ate. I do it every day. I would eat all of Ophelia’s food, Creampuff’s food and my food, if Cathy would let me.

They tell me that cats have a special relationship with their owners. Personally, I think cat owners need a special relationship with their psychiatrists.gracie dog exhausted

I am sleeping off a wonderful day of playing in the park with my Aunt Sara. Every dog and every human is my potential friend. And every piece of food is my potential treat.

Who’s normal around here?

Ophelia has been growling a lot lately. She sits on my mom’s lap and growls. She growls when she sees Creampuff. Creampuff is too ditzy to take it personally. She just holds her ground and stares at Ophelia, as if she’s asking, “What’s your problem?”ophelia getting better

Even my mom admits Ophelia seems to be neurotic. But she IS getting healthier. See the photo on the right? She doesn’t look yellow at all. Just growly.

I am trying to stay out of the line of fire. Here I am with my new chew toy, a birthday present from Summer at the Dog Lounge.

Dogs know what’s important. Food, toys and walks. Ophelia needs to get with the program. dog stretched out

Visitor from Philadelphia

Last night we were honored with a visit from Mom’s friend and copywriting client, Ellen. Mom wrote the copy for Ellen’s website, Faces and Fortunes, back when she was charging about half of what she does now. Ellen’s site was very successful and they became phone friends. They met for the first time on Sunday. I went along to the Marqueen, where Ellen was staying. They wouldn’t let me go upstairs but the desk people fussed over me in the lobby.

Mom took advantage of the gift certificate she won at the Dog Park party last August (how appropriate!). She took Ellen to dinner at The Waterfront, an upscale seafood place in Seattle.

The waiter took thisdog park gift certificate was used photo. After Mom downloaded it to Photoshop, she said she should have left a smaller tip. It was all blurry. She touched it up to get the photo. That’s my mom Cathy on the right. See, she does own some Real Clothes.

Did they bring home a treat for me? Hah. Such gratitude. I mean, if she didn’t own me, she wouldn’t have been at the dog park for the party. She’d have taken Ellen to the little Thai place around the corner.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ellen said. “I like Thai food.”

Maybe next time.

Ophelia still hanging around

My mom has been force feeding Ophelia twice a day. She just started giving the poor cat Sub-Q fluids every other day. You’d think she’d be ready to say, “Alas, poor Ophelia….” and send her back where she came from.

But no. She exclaims, “Ophelia purred while I gave her fluids!” and “Ophelia’s so good when I feed her.”

Personally, I think it’s the Stockholm Syndrome. Mom is getting attached to this useless furry creature who runs her life. But it looks like Ophelia’s here to stay. I’m trying to make friends, but Ophelia doesn’t get it. A friendly “arf” and a sniff…who could misunderstand?

Cats are dumb.

Can we send Ophelia back where she came from?

My mom took Ophelia back to the vet on Monday. Ophelia’s lab tests show something is going on with her liver, which is why she’s turning yellow. No surprise there.

Mom came home with instructions for force-feeding, sub-Q fluids, and pills. Then she took me to the dog park. Lindsay, the park steward, is always happy to see us.dog park with lindsay pating gracie

“The new kitty is sick?” Lindsay said. “Does she come with a return guarantee?”

See why I like Lindsay? That woman has great perspsective.

But she was joking and Cathy would never do that. She vowed Ophelia will never return to that shelter. And who else will be such a dedicated cat nurse?

I don’t really mind. When Cathy’s working on Ophelia, she puts me in my crate with a peanut butter kong toy. Yum. Ophelia’s not such a bad idea after all.

Our housemate is turning yellow

On Saturday my mom took Ophelia to the vet. Despite the advice of the behaviorist, Ophelia was not responding was not eating as much as my mom had hoped.

Dr. Angel took one look at Ophelia’s ears. “Yellow!” she exclaimed. “Liver disease!” She gave Ophelia some fluids and announced, “We’re sending out the blood tests. Come back Monday.”

Cathy went home with a few cans of special liver food and instructions to force feed. Ophelia also gets pills to stimulate her appetite and get over an infection she picked up.

Cathy was very bummed.

Appetite? I think Mom should take Ophelia to the park and let her run with me. A few rounds in the fresh air would do wonders for anybody’s appetite. I could ask my dog friends to chase her a little.

Ophelia gets brave

Wow…Ophelia marched right into the living room and took up a position near the sofa. She tried to jump to the sofa arm but couldn’t quite make it. Then she sat on the floor all evening while Cathy worked on her laptop. She growled when Creampuff seemed interested. Creampuff took off.

My mom was thrilled. Frankly, I think observing our cats is like watching paint dry, but hey…what do I know? I have a dog bed in every room and nobody messes with me.

Tempting the kitty…

Dr Jim the cat shrink told Mom to tempt the cats with delicious treats. Alas, the canned food doesn’t stay tempting for more than a single feeding. I suspect she’ll be heading over to Safeway for some generic version of Fancy Feast and maybe some human food in a lower-cost version.cat food in a can

Cathy’s following a diet she downloaded from the Internet. She looks great, but she says, “It ought to be called the Expensive Food diet. Lots of blueberries and salmon and organic produce.”

Alas, I have to go to my crate when Mom tries to tempt the kitties with treats. So far nothing seems to be working. Creampuff seems to have caught on to the game.

“Just a few years ago I was bragging about what great pets I had,” Mom sighs. “And now we’ve got the dog with the delicate tummy and the most neurotic cat on the planet.”

She exaggerates. But not by much.

A visit from the cat shrink

My mom Cathy was eager to hear what the cat shrink would say. “Dr. Jim”turned out to be like Dr. Doolittle. He talks to animals.

He’s awfully smart. He told Cathy more or less what I’ve been saying all along. Ophelia should be living alone with a nice little old lady. Well, he didn’t put it quite like that, but…

An older cat like Ophelia shouldn’t be placed with another cat, he said. But since she’s here, we can try a few tricks. So mom has them in separate rooms as much as possible. She’ll be feeding them delicious treats – but only when they are together. We could give them Prozac. (Prozac?)

No drugs yet, my mom said. She’s going to be rationing out the treats to motivate the relationship.

“After all,” my mom pointed out, “it’s not like Ophelia had a lot of choices. Not many people want a cat who’s 9 years old, overweight, and long-haired. Even little old ladies.”

And what about me? That nice Dr. Jim knows a normal, sane animal when he sees one. He decided I looked like a happy, healthy dog. He complimented me on being so good. Cathy, of course, took all the credit but hey, I can be generous. sleeping dog

Especially since Dr. Jim said I should get more treats.

“When she tries to jump on someone, make her sit and give her a reward. Carry a bag of treats. Give her a treat just for walking right.”

Wow. I love this shrink. He can analyze me anytime.

But I have more important things on my mind. We dogs have our priorities straight.