girl in greenwood

Kismet Kitty thinks the 4th of July is the dumbest, scariest holiday ever. She is bothered by loud noises and even though fireworks are supposedly illegal in Seattle, our more redneck neighbors are blowing sh*t up all over the neighborhood. Kizzy is under the bed with her ears on backwards.

Labels: cats

A couple pictures of Kismet being fierce and bitey...

Labels: cats

Apparently Meeegan's comment-karma did the job, because I only missed 2 points on my exam, despite ignoring the majority of the readings for this unit. (Respiratory diseases are gross, and also similar. Lots o' phlegm is lots o' phlegm, yeah?)

And Miss Kismet Kitty has discovered the joy of napping with her people. Yesterday she napped with R* after he coaxed her a little. Today I came home from class and got into bed for a power nap, and Kismet materialized on my chest about 3 seconds later, and began to purr. When I got sleepy enough that I stopped stroking her, she climbed down next to my hip and curled up and went to sleep. She's getting the hang of being a cat!

Labels: cats, nursing school

Our new Kismet kitty is settling in pretty well. She handled my parents' visit for Christmas extremely well, not allowing strangers to frighten her at all. Today R* opened the curtains in the bedroom and plopped her on the bed in a sunbeam (black cats are solar powered, you know).


I went in to take a look at how she was enjoying her sunbeam.


She said she was ready for her closeup. (The bare spot on her tummy is from the vet shaving her to check for a spay scar.)


So I obliged.

That is the face of a happy cat, don't you think?

Labels: cats

My family had a nice Christmas together. My mom and dad came to visit from Friday through Tuesday morning. Friday night we went out for Thai food at our favorite Thai restaurant. Saturday my parents and I went grocery shopping while R* had a guitar lesson, then we all went downtown and had a lovely dinner at Tulio before going to see Emmylou Harris perform at Benaroya Hall. The concert was FANTASTIC. She is just amazing.

Sunday we stayed home (except for my dad, who went golfing in the rain because he is a nutball) and Mom and I cooked a big holiday dinner with turkey, stuffing, gravy, sweet potatoes, rolls, brussels sprouts, and green beans, plus a pumpkin pie. It was all quite delicious.

Monday we opened gifts and that was great! The best present I got was a Foreman G5 grill from R*. It has different removable plates so that you can use it to grill, to make waffles, or to "bake" things like chiles rellenos or fried eggs. We put it to work right away by making gingerbread waffles for breakfast, which were delicious! Later in the day we experimented with using the grill to make paninis, which worked out very well. I love it.

I think the best of Christmas this year, though, is our Christmas kitty. Kismet is such a darling. She's beautiful and well-behaved and purry. I can't wait until she gets more settled in here and becomes more comfortable sitting in our laps and stuff. She had a good Christmas too - the cutest was when R* opened a package of fur mousie toys for her and she chased each one as he removed them from the package. Not so cute when she decided to play with a mousie at 5 AM in our bedroom... but what are you gonna do?

Labels: cats, christmas, family

We had a rather unplanned weekend. Thursday night the Seattle area was hammered by a windstorm the likes of which I'd never seen. When we woke up on Friday, we had no power. At first we thought it was no big deal - we've lost power for a short time before, and then it came back on. So we went out and got breakfast, thinking that our power would be back on in no time. Ha ha. We were wrong. We went home and the house got colder and darker... so R* suggested that we should call around and find a hotel room for the night. Apparently everyone else in the area had the same idea, because we had a horrible time finding a room. We finally got a reservation at Hotel Deca in the U District - I went over and checked in, then we went to Ballard where R*'s band was playing. After the gig, we went back to the hotel and were thrilled to have a warm, lighted room.

In the morning we had a hot shower and a hot bath, respectively, and went home expecting to find our power back on. But no! It was still dark and cold. I went to the library to borrow their electricity and Internet connection (not to mention their heat) and called and called and called trying to find a hotel room. I finally called a bed & breakfast called Chelsea Station and they had one room left. We went and checked in and were very pleased with their hospitality. I would totally recommend the place to visitors. We walked down to Fremont and got some lunch, then went back to the room and took a nap in the warmth. We decided to go back by the house just to see if the power was back on... but it was a rude surprise when we got their and our neighbors on either side had lights on and our house was still dark and cold. We went outside in the dark to look at the line to the house, but we couldn't see anything wrong. It was very disheartening. We went to dinner at Perche' No, only to find that their power was half out and the menu was drastically reduced. We decided to just go with it and had a perfectly nice meal - and the owners were so kind and friendly. It was like going over to a friend's house and having grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner because the fridge is empty, and having fun anyway.

Sunday morning we got up, showered, and went downstairs for breakfast. Just as we were finishing our breakfast, the power went out! Fortunately we were done and just got our things and went home. Which was still cold and dark. In fact, I could see my breath when I opened my closet to get out some clean clothes. That is just wrong! R* suggested that we make a reservation at the Inn at El Gaucho, go have a nice dinner and stay the night. So we did. I'm sure we spent way too much money, but it was so nice. I have never slept in such a comfortable bed, nor worn such a comfortable bathrobe.

Before we went downtown to El Gaucho, we stopped by our friend's house to visit the kitty. We left feeling a little ambivalent because it wasn't love at first sight, but after lots of discussion decided that the cat was well-behaved and polite, and needed a home. So today, we went back to the house and picked up the cat (after making a stop at Petco for supplies) and went directly to the vet to get it checked out. And here's what we discovered: kitty is a girl, between 1 and 2 years old, has been spayed, appears to be in excellent health, and may possibly be a purebed Bombay. Our vet commented that she looks a little like Booshka and that it must have been kismet that brought us together. R* and I looked at each other and I said, "I think you just named our cat for us!" Her new name is Kismet Winifred (what, your cat doesn't have a middle name?). We got her microchipped and wormed, and got the distemper and rabies shots. Since we brought her to the house, she's been quite nervous but has tolerated everything with a great deal of grace (plus a few bad words). She doesn't know it yet but she is going to love living with us. We're going to spoil her rotten!

Our power was back on when we got home from the vet. Thank goodness. It's a relief to be home!

Labels: cats, hotels, power outage

We may be acquiring a new cat much sooner than we anticipated. We have a friend who was adopted by a cat during the cold snap a few weeks ago. He's been looking for her owners since then, but no one has come forward and the cat is not microchipped. My friend is allergic to cats so he can't keep her... so we are going to go meet her this weekend and see if we hit it off.

Pictures:
Furry face
Whole furry fuzzball

Our friend has been calling her Winifred but we'll most likely change her name. Candidates for names include Kashka, Neko, and Hazel.

Labels: cats

Booshka was a remarkable cat. He was extraordinarly in tune with his people and valued the time he spent with us. R* and I both firmly believe that he lived as long as he did because he loved being with us so much.

R* got Babooshka in 1988 in Washington DC. R* was much younger then and actually bought a black kitten at a pet shop as an accessory for the outfit that he was wearing to go out clubbing that night. The next morning, R*'s roommate J* awakened him by announcing "Your cat just shit on my rug." R* said, "What cat?!" not remembering that he'd bought a kitten the night before. That kitten was Booshka, named after a Kate Bush song. (Although he kind of stopped answering to Babooshka and liked Booshkaboo better.) After that rather casual meeting, R* and Booshka were inseperable for the next 18 years. R* took Booshka to several different apartments, even asking his friend Z* to keep Booshka safe in her bedroom when R* was between permanent places to live.

Fittingly for the cat of a musician, Booshka enjoyed music a lot. He would even tap his tail to jazz music (specifically jazz music). R* and I had the thought that Boo was a reincarnated old jazz cat like Thelonius Monk. Can't you just imagine him with a beret and hipster glasses, if he were a human? When R* rehearsed on his guitar in the living room, Booshka would sit near him or even under his stool and close his eyes and listen. His favorite CD was Jazz, My Romance by Ron Carter. It's a mellow acoustic jazz record, just bass, guitar, and piano. We played it for him during his last couple days at home and he snoozed on the couch and listened.

In 1997, I moved in with R* and Booshka and Kadydid. Booshka took his time warming up to me, but eventually decided that I was The Girl and was nearly as good a human as R*. He turned to me for butt scratching, for feeding and watering, for playing with the string, and for sleeping on my feet. As time went by, he decided that my lap was just about as good as R*'s. And best of all, I bought The Brush and started using it on Booshka. He could hardly believe that he had gone 8 years without a brush in his life!

After R* and I got married, we moved into a house for the first time in Booshka's life. He was thrilled with having more space, and stairs, and more privacy in the litterbox, and hardwood floors for better mousie-chasing, and a backyard in which to enjoy the sun and chomp grass. Plus he'd never experienced forced-air heat before, and would spend every winter parked in a cat bed (aka the kitty bucket) in front of a heating vent with his nose millimeters from the grate, purring while the warm air blew on his face.

The most amazing thing about Booshkaboo was that he really listened to his people. He would almost always come when called, or at least meow to let us know where he was. He understood "no" and "get down" and "come here" and "sit down" and actually complied with those instructions. Not like a dog does tricks, but as though we were really communicating. He also was the emotional barometer in the house - if R* and I were fighting, he would look between us with a worried expression, and if we didn't cool it, he would leave the room. If one of us got angry (like swearing at the computer) he would hide under the bed. One of our friends was over for pizza one night, and Booshka was sniffing at her plate. R* said, "Booshka! That's our guest's food and it's rude to bother her." And Booshka backed off and sat down. She was amazed that Boo seemed to really understand.

In these last few months, Booshka clearly decided to live life to the fullest. He became interested in human food of all kinds after years of ignoring everything we ate. He particularly liked the crumbs from chocolate chip cookies and scones. He licked plates with caesar salad dressing on them, sampled pasta, and closely observed every bite of a burrito I had for lunch one day. His other favorite activity was chomping on R*'s shoelaces - whenever he got a new pair of shoes, Booshka would enthusiastically chomp the laces. Every time a door was left open, Booshka would be in the doorway or tiptoeing outside to sniff and explore and eat grass. Over this past summer he got so enthused about going outside and sampling the local flora that one day he passed out a dandelion. He appraised everyone who came into the house, and if he found them acceptable, would try to coax them to scratch his butt while he ate from his bowl. Our friend A* took it up a notch when she brushed his butt while he ate. PURRRRRRRRRR, he said. Oh, and Boo completely stopped having any respect for his people being otherwise occupied. He pushed textbooks off my lap so he could sit there. He plopped down between us in bed and shoved one or both of us to make enough room for himself. He got up on the table to inspect our interesting human food more closely. It was hilarious to see his personality change - he seemed so much like an elderly human who has decided they don't need to follow society's constraints anymore.

Booshka used up all nine of his lives, and in fact required more medical care than many humans-of-pets might have tolerated. But he was always such a part of the family that we never hesitated to do what was necessary for his health. And it was kind of a lot... [Edited because I'm not sure that anyone really cares about the details of Booshka's illnesses other than me & R*. Short version: Boo had flea allergies, irritable bowel syndrome, benign skin tumors, acid reflux, and insulin-dependent diabetes and we treated all of 'em.]

The last two days he wouldn't eat. He would only drink water, chicken broth, or the juice from canned tuna fish. He had enjoyed food so much his entire life that we were sure this was the end. When we took him to the vet to let him go, she palpated his abdomen and found a mass near his stomach (could've been stomach, pancreas, small insestine...) that was obviously painful. And so it was clear that the right thing to do was let him go peacefully before he suffered any more. It was so hard and so sad, even though it was the compassionate thing to do.

Our friend Em wondered if he'd been reincarnated immediately, or if there was a delay for processing and paperwork. All I can say is that I hope Booshka's next life is a fantastic one, because he sure was a joy in this life.

Labels: Booshka, cats, end of life

Labels: Booshka, cats, end of life

Mr. Black Cat is doing much better. He's not back to 100%, but he seems much more like his old self. Just like any elderly patient, he's up to 4 different meds administered at 3 different times of day. And yes, I have to wipe his butt on occasion. Although at least this IBS flare-up has not been nearly as disgusting as the last one. I'm not expecting that he's going to live years longer or anything, but I do think he'll be with us for a few more months. Today he wanted to sit on my lap and sniff every single bite of my lunch before I put it into my mouth. This is a good sign.

Okay, as for the brainstorm - I didn't have one, I'm asking for your help with one! I have to present an article to my clinical group at post-conference on Friday. I'm totally fine with the article and the speaking part, but I'm supposed to use a "visual aid" and I'm drawing a blank. The topic of the article is prescribing a "range order" for painkillers and why it's important for nurses to advocate for range orders for their patients, and how to use these orders to keep patients as comfortable as possible. In case you are as clueless as me (I just learned this today!), a range order is a prescription, typically for pain medication, that allows the nurse to use her judgement about how much to administer based on the patient's status and the situation. For example, the doctor might write an order for morphine, 1-4 mg/hour by IV, as needed for pain. This would give the nurse the leeway to crank up the patient's dose to 4 mg/hour if the patient was in terrible pain, or to crank down the dose to 1 mg/hour if the patient was getting groggy and the pain was long gone.

So yeah, I don't need to recap the whole article for you - just tell me what you think I could do VISUALLY to help with this presentation! I don't have access to a computer or overhead, so it's gotta be something I can just hold up, pass around the table, or tape to the blackboard. The only idea I've had so far is to bring some kind of tiny candy, like smarties or jellybeans, and use them as "units" to demonstrate how I could dose 2 different patients with the same range order...?

Any ideas would be appreciated!

Labels: Booshka, cats, nursing school

Mr. Black Cat gave us a scare this weekend... Friday night we were out late because R* had a gig, and we went out for dinner after he played. When we came home, I gave Booshka his usual nighttime pill and we went to bed. Then he woke us 3 times in the night because he was throwing up. Saturday morning he refused to eat and was very weak. We were really worried about him and took him to the vet, where we saw our very favorite doctor... and she examined him and said it is most likely a flare-up of his irritable bowel disease, and that extra steroids and antacids should make him feel a lot better. They gave him some fluids and took blood and urine samples just to make sure that nothing else is going on. When we got home from the vet, Booshka ate a little bit and then went to sleep. But he wouldn't eat in the evening when he normally gets his insulin, and he just ate a tiny bit at bedtime.

This morning, though, he hopped out of bed at 6:00 and asked for breakfast. So I fed him and gave him his insulin injection, and an extra steroid/antacid dose to keep his tummy from hurting. So far, he seems like he's bouncing back.

Last time this happened, about a week later he had an explosion from the hind end that necessitated daily baths for a few days. We're hoping to avoid that this time around with the extra steroids before the explosion. Keep your fingers crossed, because that was just gross, even for an experienced butt-wiper like me.

Labels: Booshka, cats

Mr. Black Cat gave us a scare last night. He's been doing really well with his insulin treatment for his diabetes - he's gained weight, gotten stronger, and has even started to play with toys again. So we were shocked yesterday when he vomited 6 or 7 times between 9:00 AM and 4:30 AM. He woke us every two hours going "owowowowowooooo" and then barfing violently. He was obviously miserable, poor guy, so we took him to the vet this morning. They gave him some fluids and some injections to settle his stomach (an acid reducer and an esophageous-constricter). The vet said he could come home but needed to not eat anything for several hours, a plan that Mr. B did NOT approve of. Since then he's had a chance to eat, and there has been no barfing since 4:30 this morning.

It may be too soon to make a declaration, but it looks like today is not the day that B is going to bite it or take a turn for the worse. In fact, the vet (who diagnosed B's diabetes but hasn't examined him since) exclaimed, "You look good!" when B first got out of the carrier.

And another thought? If having a newborn baby is similar, in that you have to wake up and take care of a small creature every two hours, I'm not so sure about having one. I feel like crap warmed over today.

Labels: Booshka, cats

Mr. Black Cat went to the vet last Friday for all-day blood sugar monitoring after his first insulin injection of the day. He flunked - his sugar was too high all day long. So we've doubled his dosage starting on Saturday, and he's supposed to go back for another all-day monitoring session after two weeks.

Last night was the first time I've seen him act like he genuinely feels better - not just slightly better, but actually good. While I was cooking dinner, I heard "Meerrrroow!" issuing from the office, accompanied by the scratching sound that means he's either stretching up against the wall (like you see leopards do against trees in nature programs) or trying to open the wardrobe. So I called him and he came jogging out of the office, and I tossed him a fuzzy toy. He was thrilled, and proceeded to bat the toy around, pounce on it, bite it, and even shake it like he was breaking its nonexistent, fuzzy neck.

Labels: Booshka, cats