Willow's pause in her "busy" day

When I get out of bed, Willow often moves right over to the spot where I have been sleeping. There, in her "mommy spot," she seems to have her soundest sleep of the day so I don't disturb her, and simply make the bed once she has jumped down.

Today I glanced into the bedroom and saw that she was not there so I stopped what I was doing in order to make the bed before she had a chance to settle back down there later.

I saw something dark on the sheet that looked like a cat toy but not one that I recognized so I was confused and moved toward it somewhat cautiously, which is altogether silly. I just wasn't sure what it was.

Then I got closer and.....Awwwww! 

I swear this kitty just melts my heart.

I love Willow so much!

 For me, one of the pleasures of cats' company is their devotion to bodily comfort. - Sir Compton Mackenzie

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A new image of Willow...and her ears!

Cats' hearing apparatus is built to allow the human voice to easily go in one ear and out the other.  -Stephen Baker

 

 

Cats do not have to be shown how to have a good time, for they are unfailing ingenious in that respect.  -James Mason

 

Way down deep, we're all motivated by the same urges.
Cats have the courage to live by them.  -Jim Davis

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Willow watches some redheads and a deer feeds near the willow

.17 seconds

.11 seconds

It has been a week of sadness with the tragedy in Tucson and the ongoing memorials and funerals, which is why these two really short clips that my husband shot from our kitchen window on Friday morning were such a beautiful escape.

Some of you have seen other clips of Willow, a few of them right from the same window. In this new one she is uncharacteristically still as a House Finch flies from the bush at the window while a Red-Headed Woodpecker snacks on suet at the feeder. But the House Finch changes his mind and returns to sit on the window sill and peek inside (those House Finches are such clowns).

In the second clip you will see the suet feeder swinging in the breeze, while below it is another feeder that we keep filled with cracked sunflower seeds. Deer have discovered this enormously healthy treat and have been cleaning out the feeder on a nightly basis. But Friday morning one deer wanted breakfast.

You can't see it in these clips but just feet away from the bush by the window is a weeping willow tree that the birds love, of course, and the deer seem to feel secure under its protection. They don't sleep under it, however, preferring instead the greater shelter under the Sequoias in our backyard. I tell ya, sometimes it is just like a Disney movie around here!


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Willow votes to keep the Christmas tree year-round

The Cat and the Christmas Tree
                              ~by Amy Cavanaugh
   
      Cat:
Your needled branches are an evergreen canopy
Over my head. I take in your fresh air
And sit. Up at you I stare with open circular eyes.
White lights wink down at me -
An invitation to curl under their essence.
You tried to feed your sensual branches to me -
But I barely accepted them.
I probably still don't.

Christmas Tree:
Come to me ring-tailed striped cat.
Show me those wide eyes of yours -
Accompanied by a green feline gaze.
Come again - under me you once sat.
Show me that mini size of yours.
Come out from Hesitation's haze.
Come again - under me you once sat.
There's a reason to find you under me.


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1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10

I was tagged by Riyadh who writes the blog A Walk Through My Life from his beloved Bangladesh, and who I call my nephew after developing a closeness with him via blogging. He wrote the dearest thing about me in the post in which he gave this award to me and nine others.

As I have done recently with blog awards I will not tag anyone in particular. Instead, I hope that any of you who are inclined to write a post containing ten things about yourself or to take up the challenge of actually passing along the award to ten others to do so in honor of the marvelous friendships we gain by being a part of the blogosphere. Here are the official rules:


    * Tell your readers 10 things about yourself that they may or may not know, but are true.
    * Tag 10 people with the award, and be sure to let them know they’ve been tagged (a quick comment on their blog will do).
    * Link back to the blogger who tagged you.


Ten things you may or may not know about me:

1. I have an appointment with my orthodontist today. This is because I have worn braces since May 2009 and I have about nine more months to go. I have no complaints about the process, as this is something I longed to do for decades. Adult orthodontia is a real adventure!

2. September 1st will be our 15th anniversary. We are going to a play in Portland on Sunday as an early celebration.

3. October 15th will be my 25th sobriety anniversary. Aforementioned play (I'll post more about it on Sunday) happens to actually be more representative of alcoholism than it does of marriage, so I'm expecting it to be powerful for me.

4. My favorite word is GLOAMING.

5. My least favorite word(s) are those used by racists as descriptors for other human beings. You won't see those words on my blog.

6. I dearly love all of my pets, but I am in love with my cat Willow. I don't care if that seems strange. It is the truth.

7. I do not personally identify much with my astrological sign, Capricorn. But I read my horoscope anyway.

8. Autumn is my favorite season, October my favorite month.

9. I didn't meet my birth father until I was 21 years old.

10. Saturday is the 2nd blogiversary for my other blog, Clutterquake.



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cool cats chillin' on a sizzling weekend

 

When it is 95 degrees outside and you are an inside cat what's fun is to sleep in a sunbeam on the floor upstairs for awhile and then, when you get good and toasty, to head downstairs where the air conditioning is working superbly.

Here they are: Willow on top showing off her wispy tiny beard, Shiva Lullaby being...well..Shiva, and Feather -- seemingly lit from within -- who has experienced so many summers that she cuddles into my grandmother's wool afghan whenever I'm in the office...day or night, summer or winter.

:::

Meanwhile, here is a mini-video that shows some adults who should be fined for not stopping this future sociopath from tossing a cat in the pool and risking the safety of both child and cat. I hope kitty kept on running until well out of the neighborhood where it found a safe, cool, loving home. There's not much hope for that kid unless a good foster family is in the future.





Video via Tiny.pic


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Willow loves the Portland Trail Blazers

Willow, our very own special Portland Trail Blazers fan, watches as her team wins game 4 against the Phoenix Suns on Saturday afternoon.

The two teams are now tied in this round of the NBA Playoffs.

The next game is in Phoenix Monday night.

Willow will be watching.

GO BLAZERS!

~~~

In my first year as a resident of Oregon, the Blazers won the world championship. The days following there was a jubilation and esprit de corps that I will never forget:

The 1976-77 world champion Portland Trail Blazers were a miracle, born, like Gaia, spontaneously, from nowhere, from utter chaos.

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my cats get a jump on spring with some video catnip

Here are all three of my cats (the pampered indoor-only gang as opposed to the pampered outside-garage three) in one short video clip that warms my heart because it shows their personalities and why I love them so much.

Pure white Feather (14 years old) and Willow (one year+) sit together in front of the tv to watch a VHS tape titled Video Catnip, while Shiva Lullaby (two years+) watches the scene from a favorite chair.....

~

Old Postcard Wednesday--A Kindle of Kittens

Back of postcard reads: Series 1002 (6.Des.) Printed in Germany. I searched several variations on possible artist names (enlarge to see signature) but could not find any information..

"Clowder" is the correct term for a group of cats. It is an old word for "clutter," an apt name for a gathering of cats that has, perhaps, overrun a farm in response to a plague of mice or rats.

A group of kittens or young cats had a special name: they were called a "kyndyll," or "kindle," of kittens. This is based on the old definition of the verb "to kindle," which described it as "bringing forth" or "giving birth to young." So a kyndyll of cats was simply a group of felines that had, not so long ago, been brought into the world. [Source: Kinross Cattery website, emphasis is mine]

It's no secret that I love cats, and I sure love this one. Willow hasn't shown up here at my blog for awhile and those of you who remember her as a kitten will be amazed at the
s-t-r-e-t-c-h  of her full-grown cat body. She still has her little beard that you can see just above her identification tag. Willow's eyes aren't actually this green but I didn't edit the shot because I thought they looked spectacular, like gems.

I picked up a few of these catnap squares (she is lounging on one) for the couch at Petco years ago and the other cats simply loved them and simply curled up and simply slept on them. Not Willow. She pulls tufts of the stuff out with her mouth and makes cozy patterns, as if having a need to make a nest out of the thing. Ultimately they are full of holes and need to be replaced, which is a bit ridiculous as these things aren't cheap.

Willow isn't neurotic about her grooming like some of my cats have been. She seems to have "cleaning days," in which it is an all-out advance with her tongue and paws to attend to every part, from inside ears to tip of tail, and then to be done with it for a few days. I have not tried the nifty ideas below and am not sure I ever will. Maybe.......

Nature has adorned her with a most beautiful coat, of the softest, silkiest fur and loveliest of colours; and she spares no pains to keep it clean and smart. I firmly believe that the cat is very proud of her appearance, and likes to cut a dash -- here again, by the bye, she resembles the female of the human family ...

If you want to have your cat nice and clean, treat her now and then to a square inch of fresh butter. It not only acts as a gentle laxative, but the grease, combining in her mouth with the alkalinity of her saliva, forms a kind of natural cat-soap ...
If you wish to have a cat nicely done up for showing, touch her all over with a sponge dipped in fresh cream, when she licks herself the effect is wonderful.

~William Gordon Stables (1840-1910) Scottish writer, from Cats: Their Points and Classification, 1877

OR you could just use the butter and cream to try this recipe from Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient with Recipes. At the book's Amazon page I noticed a box that says:  Tell the publisher! I'd like to read this book on Kindle ........which sort of brings us back to the definition of a group of kittens where we began.....

Brown Butter Ice Cream

Source: Fat by Jennifer McLagan

Ingredients:

1 cup / 250ml whole milk
1 cup / 250 ml whipping cream
1/2 cup / 100 g sugar
1/2 cup / 115 g unsalted butter, diced
1/2 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 egg yolks
1/8 tsp fine sea salt

Method:

- Combine the milk and cream in a saucepan and add about half the sugar. Place the pan over medium heat and bring to a boil. Remove the pan from the heat and set aside.

- In another saucepan, place the butter over low heat. When the butter is melted, increase the heat to medium. Watch the butter carefully, using a spoon to push aside any foam to check the colour of the milk solids. When they turn brown and you smell a sweet, nutty aroma, remove the pan from the heat, add the lemon juice, and transfer the butter to a bowl to cool until it is no longer hot to the touch.

- In a large bowl whisk the egg yolks, the remaining sugar, and the salt until light in colour and thick. Whisk in the cooled browned butter, adding it slowly and whisking vigorously so that the mixture is emulsified. Once all the butter is incorporated, slowly whisk in the cream and milk mixture.

- Pour the mixture into a clean pan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon. Strain the mixture into a bowl and cool quickly by placing it in a larger bowl or sink filled with cold water and ice. Stir the mixture often. When it is cool, cover and refrigerate overnight. The next day, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine following the manufacturer's instructions.

Feline proxy delegate shares a word prior to Copenhagen climate talks

Our beautiful cat, Willow, was finally spayed yesterday and I picked her up at the vet clinic this morning. I say "finally" because I normally have our cats altered/spayed at around eight-months of age. We waited until Willow passed her first birthday in hopes that her heart murmur had healed itself as the vet said they sometimes do in the first year of life.

Her heart rate was zooming at 240 yesterday morning when we arrived at the vet clinic, and she also seemed to still have a heart murmur. We determined that she should stay there for a few hours for her vet to check her again after she calmed down some, because at that point we couldn't tell if she was extremely stressed from the car ride or if she had acute tachycardia. They phoned me after noon to let me know that after some hours her heart rate dropped to a lovely 150, no heart murmur was detected with the normal heart rate, and that surgery had progressed successfully.

It was a long night for Michael and me without Willow in the house. After I brought her home this morning she played some in the living room with her toys. The powerful shot she'd been given for pain had kicked in and she was feeling spunky. But she's now sleeping by the gas stove listening to our cats' favorite CD. All is well.....

But none of us should be wooed into complacency while snug in our houses. With the Convention on Climate Change about to convene in Copenhagen I'll take a few days here at Writerquake to show my love and concern for this planet, our home, this heaven on Earth.

The animals need us to be mindful. It's their home too.......



Comments by person who uploaded this at youtube: Cat speaks out against climate change. Submitted as part of the 1 Minute to Save the World climate change short film competition http:www.1minutetosavetheworld .com  

Rooted in love, Willow branches out into second year

Willow

- by 李商隱 Lǐ Shāngyǐn (812-858)

Boundless the leaves roused by spring,

Countless the twigs which tremble in the dawn.

Whether the willow can love or not,

Never a time when it does not dance.

Blown fluff hides white butterflies,

Drooping bands disclose the yellow oriole.

The beauty which shakes a kingdom must reach through all the body:

Who comes only to view the willow's eyebrows?

This is Willow's official first birthday photo. No, we don't usually dress our pets in clothes. Last Friday I put flea medicine between the shoulder blades of both dogs and each inside cat and Willow is so limber that she could twist her head enough to lick at the poison. I remembered a little t-shirt that I bought decades ago for Cirrus -- my muse of a white cat who was long with me and has been gone even longer still -- when she was old and cold and did indeed wear dog sweaters in her final years. Surprisingly, I found it after rummaging through only one drawer and immediately put it over Willow's head and breathed a sigh before attempting to place her front paws through the arm holes, expecting a struggle. But rather than struggle, she snuggled into it and seemed appreciative of the barrier it afforded between the oily junk on her back and her seeking tongue. I haven't taken it off of her because she seems to like the extra layer. She is a very long, very thin cat and I think she is feeling the chill of autumn more than the other animals (although big fat Shiva settled in front of the gas stove as soon as I relit the pilot light last week, so even she feels the change of seasons).

On the back of the t-shirt are printed the words Precious Possession. The description couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, I am her possession and not the other way around. Sunday morning Mike was up earlier than I and when he came into the bedroom to gently waken me he found Willow there on the pillow next to me. He remarked what a close bond she and I share. Yes, so close it hurts, knowing the cruel separation to come years from now, the separation that nearly broke me when Cirrus and later Bleecker, my two favorite cats, died.

Willow deserves a poem for her first birthday, but I just don't have one in me right now. So I read numerous poems about cats in preparation of this post. None suited Willow in the slightest. I decided to seek poems written about willows, and came upon this one that truly does suit her. The site where I read it (click) contains an esoteric feature titled "Allusions to Classical Chinese Poetry in Pink Floyd," noting that the original Willow poem ". . . has an element of sensuality and playfulness that come through rather vividly in translation. The poet is praising in a subtle but quite unmistakeable way the physical charms of the woman who is the subject of the poem." That description also seems a fitting portrayal of my cat, Willow. And, ironically, the feature refers to the Pink Floyd lyrics to "Cirrus Minor," and their reference to willows.

I did write two poems about my cat, Cirrus, one of them published in Cats Magazine. I will post them at a later date. As I said, she was my muse and I think Willow could be one too if I tap into the flow.

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some people have cats and go on to lead normal lives*

(video length 1:09)



Willow will be a year old next month. She and I have a bond that I treasure. Each of our pets is unique and loved for special qualities, as is true for most pet owners. But some come along that spark something deep inside and a soul connection is made that weakens only a little when they die.

Willow, for those of you who have been following her at Writerquake, still has her little beard (can be detected in final scene) and she continues to sleep on my pillow. Not all night long like a little baby in my arms as she did for months, but I always wake up in the morning with her right there. If we have to get up earlier than usual, as I did most mornings this week because I scheduled my physical with lab work at the hospital and my eye exam over the past days, Willow comes to me in early afternoon with a cranky sort of little cry. She then runs to the bedroom and jumps up on the bed trying to entice me to fold down the covers for us both to cuddle into together. Friday I actually gave in and had an hour nap with her sleeping next to my cheek.

Where she is a soft comfort to me she is hell for bugs. No matter if they are crawling across the floor or coasting in flight, she finds their destination nanoseconds before they arrive .....and the bell tolls. She may be the quickest hunter who ever lived with me. I'm already full of pity for these delicate lazy flies that are around this area come Fall. They seem almost baby-like in their search for warmth inside as the days and nights turn cold and rainy. You'll think me peculiar, but each year there are one or two that we've allowed to hang around until they leave through an open door or die either by cat or other peril. They don't fly around much, don't buzz, and don't challenge us at the dinner table. Actually, these little flies seem to have the best of manners and what they care most about is sleeping lazily on a wall all the live long day. Amazingly, they know when they are being greeted and stay put for a cheery word sent in their direction. It's just been an honor to know some of them for a short time in years past. With Willow around, I'll make every attempt to move them along outside where they may be cold but will also be safer to live another flyday.

Being an inside cat, Willow takes exercise seriously. Our cats indoors have a carpeted cat climbing set and stairs to chase one another up and down. I play with them nearly daily, providing an interactive workout with the world's simplest and cats' favorite toy, Cat Dancer. A former hair stylist of mine, who used to cut my hair in the sassiest bob after coloring it what I'd describe as mocha-burgundy, recommended the Cat Dancer and it's been the toy we keep on hand constantly. It's so Zen, this loop of thin spring steel wire and rolled cardboard at the end, and it suits each cat to a tee.

But Willow is a young cat and she creates additional challenges for herself. Such as in this video clip where she scaled the kitchen counter to perch atop the spice cabinet. It's a good thing that Mike installed it to withstand an earthquake. I've noticed that she appreciates both a journey and a goal achieved, usually stopping to meditate on her conquest - be it a large brown spider or a French country wood cabinet with a ceramic cow for silent company.








*author unknown
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Willow shows pioneering spirit in quest for cool water

My step-father used to play the Sons of the Pioneers album with this song, Cool Water. He and my mother shared an appreciation for cowboy -- not country-western -- music. Where my sister and I used to squirm on the couch in peels of laughter at some of the songs (so uncool they were) I now actually have a sense of nostalgia when I hear real cowboy music. I really dislike country-western, but the cowboy songs are pure, descriptive, and non-commercial.

Along that line of thought, I've always thought it would be fascinating to attend the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering held annually in Elko, Nevada. Here's a bit of what happened at the 2009 gathering:

Silver Anniversary Will Reunite Artists From a Quarter Century of Gatherings in Elko

Elko - The National Cowboy Poetry Gathering - America's quintessential event honoring the western cowboy - is turning 25 in 2009. From January 24 to 31, the small community of Elko, Nevada, will overflow with thousands of cowboys and cowgirls, poets and musicians, artisans and scholars, rural people and city folks -- all of whom share a love of the American West -- for a grand celebration of the region's ranching and rural culture. . .

. . . The 25th Gathering will feature dozens of performances on six simultaneous stages by 53 poets and 24 musicians and musical groups, including 15 individuals who participated in the very first Elko Cowboy Poetry Gathering in 1985. . .

- from America's Bridle & Bit

There is lots of information, including videos, about the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, which is one of numerous cowboy-related sponsors of the extensive site, Cowboy Poetry at the Bar-D Ranch.......

I read a poem there at the Bar-D about barn cats. As you know by now, Willow is certainly no barn cat. Here at her favorite sink, this video was shot in May. There are a few parts during the clip when you can see glimpses of her little beard, so whimsical.

To see how Willow has grown, you can compare this clip to an earlier video shot at the same sink in January. She has since begun to grow a bit of a mane at nine-months of age. She continues to sleep on my pillow each night. I continue to fall more in love with her each day. Life is good.

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Willow sees a bug.....or maybe an axe murderer

The problem with cats is that they get the same exact look whether they see a moth or an axe murderer. ~Paula Poundstone

We've been doing a lot of clutter clearing lately.

Over the weekend we had the attic door open to pull stuff out of there that we threw into the big dumpster rented for a week.

Also, we installed the two window air conditioners upstairs and downstairs. In other words, there's been a good deal of stirring things up in the process. These insects seem to have been a part of the deal, unbidden and quite unwelcome.

I researched online last night in an attempt to identify them. We need to know if they are destructive or dangerous, and I'm having a heck of a time finding a photo that resembles them in any of the entomology sites I visited. Maybe a reader will instantly recognize what kind of insect this is. If so, please let me know.

Willow, who floats more than she jumps, caught two of them mid-air in the early hours of the morning after talking to me about them for the better part of the night. She ate both of them, but the second one got the worst of it because both she and Feather performed various experiments on it prior to death....How long will it wobble on the bathroom floor before it tries to fly away again?...If I roll it under the bathroom rug, let's see how long it takes me to figure out where it's hiding. ... One paw or two? ... I bit him, now it's your turn.....

These insects are about 3/4 inch long, appear to have a beetle-type body, black shiny wings, and a red head and thorax. They are basically nocturnal and seem to like crawling around on ceilings. I haven't noticed that they make any sounds, such as humming. When they fly they are graceful in the air. I caught these two last night in separate glasses, took the shots today, and released them outside. They flew away, seeming to have weathered well the stress of captivity and lack of good air.

Willow and I are more than curious and appreciate your thoughts.










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Willow on my pillow

What is the source of the love she bears me? . . . She has the modesty that belongs to perfect lovers, and their dread of too insistent contacts. I shall not say much more about her. All the rest is silence, faithfulness, impacts of soul, the shadow of an azure shape on the blue paper that receives everything I write, the silent passage of paws silvered with moisture.

Colette (1873-1954)
French novelist

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Willow the birdwatcher: an Awe~dubon clip

Willow was seven months old on May Day. To celebrate her in my life, and for your viewing pleasure, here is her latest video. This one was shot by Mike, who just the other night observed that he loves her special countenance, adding "She makes life worth living." To which I replied that I thank God for her every day. To say that we love Willow is putting it mildly!


The scene:
Birdfeeder at kitchen window. It has a one-way mirror that allows us to enjoy watching the birds (in this case a pair of House Finches) while they admire themselves and munch seeds with a complete sense of security and privacy.

Note the glass whale on window sill. Note that Willow, in her excitement, forgot that there even was a window sill, believing instead that she was on her way outside to check out the birds.


Aftermath:
The glass whale somehow survived its crash into the sink. It's now in the bedroom. Clorox Wipes have become a standard, practically hourly, part of time in the kitchen. Willow in the meantime is in for a real show when parent birds introduce their young to the feeder.....
On second thought, I think I'll keep the blinds closed when the baby birds are being weaned.

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Easing life's miseries with cats and music

There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.

-Albert Schweitzer

I agree with Albert Schweitzer. One-hundred percent.

You've met our other cats and our dogs in previous posts but I haven't yet introduced you to the new love of my life, Willow. She was born across the street around October 1 and we adopted her after she was weaned. Her mother is a tortoiseshell like our Pyewacket and is either Pye's sister or her mother, we've never known which. Such is Willow's lineage as we know it.

Willow is a prize, with her tiny Chinese-man-style beard and her loving disposition. She jumps high in the air and likes to pull towels from the rack. I'm sure she'll exhibit other talents as she grows. Whether or not they will include playing our piano remains to be seen . . .




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