Life in Cowtown

All pets have personalities that are as unique as that of their owners. In our case, the male cats’ personality can be best described as ’asshole’.  He is stubborn, obnoxious, needy, ungraceful and stomps around the house wreaking havoc and catastrophe.  He’s lucky he’s really really cute when he sleeps, otherwise he’d be throttled.

His quirks are legion, from locking himself in the bathroom then screaming his indignation on top of his lungs, to choking himself on the rim of a garbage can, to the most annoying of all – the nocturnal burst of energy.  Every night between three and five AM he stomps into our bedroom and proceeds to ensure SOMEBODY wakes up and pays attention to him. 

Like Simon’s Cat, he begins with a few plaintive meows. Since we ignore those like the champion sleepers we are, he escalates to jumping on the bedside table, knocking off the stray books, hair ties, water glass with his crash landing, and mournfully meows some more.  He is deaf, and cannot modulate his voice, so his meows generally have the same tonality as a cow. 

If by then someone hasn’t woken up to a) kick him out and shut the door b) lock him up in the bathroom c) attempt catricide, he escalates by doing something incredibly obnoxious, like finding a plastic bag to rummage through, or his new favorite game of launching himself into our wooden blinds, headfirst, to great rattling.

We have kind of tried everything over the years – a visit to the vet ruled out medical problems,  water spray is just a fun game, locking him up pre-emptively ensures he yells himself hoarse all night. Keeping the bedroom door locked gets us a serenade under the door, as well as indignant scratching of the two girl cats, who see no reason to be punished for his behavior.  We generally resort to blearily waking up, tossing his furiously snorting butt out, and going back to bed with the precision of a racing pit crew member.

Lately James has been working a lot less due to a back injury. Since he is nocturnal at heart, like me, his schedule quickly shifts to staying up quite late, and sleeping in.  This means I get a hope of uninterrupted slumber, since him staying up means that *I* get my beauty rest. 

However he does it, is fair game – food, toys, whatever it takes. Despite his best efforts, Cheney often wakes me up still by hollering in his nasal whine on top of his lungs.  The other night was no different - cat yelled, I blearily stomped him into the bathroom and locked the door.

Catching the kitty that lived on my porch through -30 C (-22F)  temperatures has kind of consumed my spare time for the last few weeks. Well, that, and my birthday on Monday, and the midterm that I wrote, and the holidays of course.

But kitty took precedence. Even though he came and went a bit sporadically, he was usually on the porch waiting for his meal when I came home from work.  After watching him shiver and huddle on the yoga mat, we got smart and bought an outdoor heating pad which we enclosed in a lovely big box with styrofoam inside, and draped with a blanket to keep snow off.  Then we got a second heating pad as a side wall, and kitty moved in pretty permanently. We probably would have gotten a third and fourth heating pad as well, but finally, finally, kitty deigned to walk into the cat trap that was thoughtfully placed there by our perennial favorite cat rescue group – The MEOW Foundation.

Food didn’t do it, either. He was too leery of the trap to be enticed by food, and circled it carefully, electing to go hungry rather than chance being eaten by crocodiles or whatever his kitty imagination came up with.  Plus it doesn’t help that food freezes in about two minutes in these temperatures, offering very little in the way of temptation in a short while.  It was a healthy sprinkle of catnip that lured him in, a substance that proved irresistible. Kitty went in, the trap went slam! and a mournful meow later, we had a very apprehensive prisoner.

Of course this happened at about eleven last night, and of course the vet where we dropped him off was clear across the city, and of course I’m exhausted today, but also quite elated that kitty will spend his first warm night inside, in… forever? The vet will neuter him, and fix up any cuts and injuries, de-worm him and vaccinate him, and he will go to the MEOW Foundation to recuperate. There they will determine whether he’s fully feral, or just shy, and will decide whether his future lies in being adopted or not.

At the very least he’s warm, fed and getting used to people, and while his empty box sits on my porch I sleep better at night not worrying whether he’ll get hit by a car today, get eaten by a coyote, or where in the world his latest injury came from.

The initial shock of the outsourcing news is largely over, and things are back on track at work. The timelines involved are not immediate, ranging from three to six months,  with severance for all regular employees, which has helped to return things to normal functioning, albeit with far less enthusiasm and conscientiousness. 

My homeless kitty remains stubbornly uncatchable. He has eluded cat traps, clever maneuvers to catch it, and offers of cod liver.  He still comes by every day for food and water though, and has finally deigned to sit on a yoga mat provided for him to keep his furry orange butt off cold concrete.  I decided if I can’t trap him, so be it, and ordered an outdoor pet heating pad, which has gotten rave reviews on Amazon.  I figure if he takes to the heating pad, (and he’d have to be sick in the head not to), perhaps we can work towards some other shelter, like a styrofoam cooler and a plastic bin? We can hope.

Image from plupetstore.com

Bread baking has progressed to sourdough which turned out wonderfully, and now I have a bowl of bubbly starter in my fridge which I feed regularly. For some reason I find this hilarious and call him Bubba. Bubba the starter has to be fed the night before you bake bread, so the two day process remains unchanged. I also bought some rye flour at the local health food store, since a good rye bread is one of life’s greatest pleasures. 

And speaking of great pleasures, one of the largest and best  traditions of eastern Europe is sauerkraut. The crunchy fermented cabbage is full of natural probiotics and is one of the healthiest winter stored foods, not to mention utterly delicious.  Our family often puts some up in the fall and gleefully consumes it in soups, sides and stews until it’s gone. From bratwurst and kraut to adding a zing to borscht, it’s absolutely fantastic.  And one of the best bowls of this soup in Calgary was found in a wee little restaurant called Praga Cafe across from Chinook Mall.

Their version of the soup was thick with potatoes, golden from paprika and so addictive that I could have kept eating it until I burst.  I had to stop as we ordered a main dish too, but that soup was something else, and I’ve kept craving it since.  I really should see if they’ll part with a recipe and I’ll share it with the world.

That’s about the exicement of the week, and my next post will take you back to the summer, cause I could sure use a break from winter. Happy December y’all!