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january 1, 1999 Well, the new year is here. Georgie still has bloody urine. Bobby woke us up at a little after five this morning. He gets over the board that we put up to keep him in the tv room. He wandered and yowwed for a solid half hour before Brian got up and opened the door to let the cats out. He brought Bobby into bed with us when he came back in. Bobby was still for about fifteen minutes, then he got off of the bed. I took him back into the tv room and put him on one of the condos. He's still sleeping.

I finally got the sore throat that Brian has had for weeks now. It doesn't hurt too badly, yet. I've been fighting it off for a week and I guess my body just finally quit trying. So, now I'm on Comtrex and Brian handed me two zinc lozenges. I hate those. You are supposed to put them below your tongue and let them dissolve. I did. Maybe I won't get as sick as he did.

Brian left this morning for a ride through the mountains. He's going to look at other property and I just don't feel up to it. So, after he left, I took a shower and I'm sitting here all nice and clean, with wet hair. I'm thinking about making a pot of coffee. That sounds really good right now.

Brian put Buddy in the shop last night, because of all of the noise. One thing we didn't have was the kids across the street being noisy at midnight, because they moved. No banging of pots and pans. Thank goodness. Junior doesn't do well by himself and Brian ended up getting out of bed and letting Buddy out of the shop. Junior had been barking up a blue streak and once Buddy was out, he was quiet. Our only noisemakers have fur, whiskers and four paws. The best kind.

When Brian gets home, we are going to put the Christmas decorations away. I'm sure the cats will be pleased to have their window back. And I'll be glad to have the big pillow off of the bed.

My immediate plans for the website are to add more pictures to the family album, update my awards (I've gotten a few and I know that people think I'm not happy to have them) and also update the cat banner pages. I would like to work on the sunset pages, have the plain ones as well as add more java sunsets to enjoy, making these page sized, not just small ones.

Well, Brian's gonna be gone for another two hours. I'll see how much I can get done.

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january 3, 1999 We went to CostCo yesterday (I always want to call it Price Club, even though it hasn't been Price Club in a long time) and I picked up some CDs. I got one, from VH1, One Hit Wonders. I'm listening to it now. I like these songs. Afternoon Delight, Brandy, Rock On, Play That Funky Music (the Pentium song, sound familiar?)....great songs. From my *youth*. LOL!!

I have this knack for getting servers that are upgrading. Right now, the one that my counter is on is upgrading and is down. So, my pages are taking about a hundred hours to load up. I hate it.

We got some Whipper Snapples yesterday at CostCo, they are kind of creamy. Benny was on my desk and I just took a sip. Cat hair. Guess he likes them, too.

We picked up QuickBooks 99. So, my bookkeeping should be better. I can do invoices, statements, the checkbook, everything I do now on at least four other programs, in one. And it will keep stuff updated, that I don't. Now, when Brian asks where we stand financially, my answer is "Huh?" LOL!! That's why he wanted it. I think he was looking for a more intelligent answer than the one I was giving him. Hey, what does he expect? Maybe QuickBooks will make my job more fun. I get to design invoices and statements!! Yippeeskippee!!

I just realized that my feet haven't been hurting nearly as much as they had been. For a while, I was surprised when they *didn't* hurt. Now, I'm surprised when they *do* hurt. Yay!!

I gave Georgie a full Elavil last night. He went out to play for awhile, came in, ate, and he's still sleeping. I guess I should have been giving him a full pill instead of splitting it. Poor little guy. Kirby is doing much better. And I think I found a way to make the pill popping not so traumatic for him. I play with him for a while, give him the pills, then play some more. He loves chasing the stick side of the feather wand. So, his recollection isn't of me sitting on him, and prying his tightly closed mouth open and shoving my finger with pill down his throat, but of chasing the stick. It's getting easier and he doesn't run when he sees me coming.

Brian made the barrier for Bobby bigger yesterday. I've walked into it three times now, unfortunately when Brian is sitting there. He's threatening to take it down. No, leave it there. Bob gets disoriented when he has run of the house. I notice that he also cut a piece of lumber and screwed it to the side of the entertainment center where Kirby was jumping on top of the satellite receiver (they kept pulling the thing I had up there down, so I just left it off). That was a surprise. And so far, it's working.

Hey, you know the *Hey Song*? The real name is Rock and Roll Part 2, by Gary Glitter. It was a one hit wonder. *grins*

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january 4, 1999 I forgot to mention, I think our hot water heater is going out. It's 16 years old. I did laundry Saturday and when the cycle was over, took a shower. I ended up turning the cold water all the way off. My shower was lukewarm. Brian took a shower a little later and said the water was fine. Figures. It happens to me, not him. I don't think he believed me.

Yesterday afternoon, I got a close look at Blackie. He's sick. His face looked awful. So, I grinded up two amoxicillan and put it in a half a can of Fancy Feast and brought it out to him. He didn't even hear me walk up behind him and I was talking to him the entire way. He ate all of the food. Good. I hope I can do this for a while, help him out. I probably could have pet him.

Then, a little after six last night, I was getting the food ready for the outfront cats. I heard a loud explosion, from outside. I asked Brian what it was, it was much, much louder than a gunshot and it was no firecracker. He told me it was a bomb. Never having heard a bomb, I asked all sorts of questions. How far away? Quarter mile. What kind of bomb, like a pipe bomb? Yeah. Now, the only thing I know about pipe bombs is what I read in the paper. I expected to read something about it in the paper this morning, but nothing.

Saturday, I left a couple of messages on real estate boards, asking what should we do about the agent for the property that Brian is interested in. The messages disappeared and nobody ever responded. Sounds fishy to me. I'm calling the real estate board today.

I'm thinking about bringing Georgie back to the vet. He's still not doing well.

It looks like the server for my counter is working. I added counters to my backgrounds site this morning.

I almost forgot!! You're gonna love this. Okay, we all know that Brian wants to buy this property, grow some grain and raise some cattle. Well, for Christmas, his brother gave him a couple of books on raising beef. Every once in a while, he reads to me from the book. This guy, who couldn't hold a cat down for sub-q fluids, is telling me about giving cattle shots. And last night, he was describing what to do if the cow has bloat (gas). He said that you insert a needle directly into the cow. And if that doesn't work, to cut a four inch strip into the cow, so that the gas can be released. :-0 Have fun, honey.

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january 6, 1999 I found out this weekend that OC sleeps in a tree. He lives next door to a neighbor across the street. Funny, isn't it? I only thought big cats did that.

Monday, I called and made a recheck appointment for Georgie, for yesterday. The appointment was at nine am. We show up and Georgie was "as dry as a bone" (he had tapeworms, too) and the vet said what they could do, if I was willing, was to leave Georgie there and they would give him lots of stuff to drink and then they could check his urine. I told them I had no problem with it, I would just like to know for sure if he was okay or not. At two, the vet called. Georgie still had blood in his urine. His pH was up to 7, and he had no crystals at all. So, Georgie is now on Orbax (half the dose he was on before) and ammonil for the urine acidity. The vet said it was a good thing that I brought him in, because the inflammation would have come back worse than before. Boy, I would have hated that and I know Georgie wouldn't have been too happy either. He sure wouldn't leave me alone last night.

I put a sheet on the catcam chair yesterday, thinking that maybe the kitties would like it better than the blanket. Somebody peed on it. Everybody's a critic.

The counter is working fine. And I'm glad. Now, I have to put the code on the rest of the pages. And there are so many.

Lonee was sleeping on the kitty entertainment center last night. Until I gave Brian his dinner. Then she jumped down, walked along the back of the sofa, into the window, then popped her little head out from behind the blinds, close to Brian. We were having stroganoff and Brian handed her a piece of beef. She went back into the window, the blinds closing behind her and soon the meat was gone.

Brian washed our trucks this weekend, then yesterday, he did the work truck. I took Bobby outside and let him look around and even put him close to some pine needles on the bank. He sniffed them a bunch, then got really agitated. I brought him back inside. He gets real grouchy, real fast.

The outfront cats aren't eating very much. The neighbor that told us about OC, also mentioned that when he walked his dog last week, he saw a kitty that had been hit by a car in the street. *sigh* I really wish people would keep their kitties in at night. Blackie didn't get any pills last night because he wasn't on the rock where I feed him his "special" dinner. But he was in the entry way later for dinner and his eyes seemed to look a little better, but it was really hard to tell because it was so dark. Poor guy.

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january 7, 1999 He made me go on another ride yesterday. AAARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!! Of course, he started it off with "do you want to go to lunch?" Knowing that this is a trick question I asked "where?" He said "Santa Ysabel". I said sure as long as that's the only place we go. But it wasn't what he had in mind. He wanted to drive to a new place. This time to a place called Chihuahua Valley. His brother and his wife went there Monday, told Brian what a wonderful place it was. Greener than Ranchita. Boy, did I do my best not to go. He said he would go by himself. I said he would not. Remember Saturday he went for a ride? Well, a ride that was supposed to take three hours took six. He ended up talking to people that live in Ranchita. But I had no way of knowing that and I started to get worried. So, yesterday, I said no way are you going by yourself. He said "you'll be miserable" and I said "so?" and he said "well, you'll make me miserable" and I said "misery loves company and I won't be miserable if I make you miserable". Convoluted and childish, aren't I? LOL!! I told him it would be a wasted trip because he won't like it. He said "I have to find out". I said it will be boring. He said so don't go. And I said but I want to be with you. And besides, I don't trust you to come home when you say you will. He said, I have to be home. Anyway, we went on the trip, it was boring, he didn't like the area and we had lunch at Santa Ysabel. And I have to say, this was undoubtedly this worst service we've ever gotten anywhere.

Brian ordered a hamburger with cheese (yeah, yeah, a cheeseburger), well done. I had a turkey sandwich. There was no cheese on the burger. And the burger wasn't done. The fries were those stupid, icky, gross ones that everyone now serves (except Foster's and McDonald's) which I won't order. But I didn't know that's what kind of fries they had. Puke. They are only any good when smothered in ketchup. Which I did. And I still didn't finish them. I had ice tea to drink. Now, the place wasn't that busy at all. And the waitress didn't once come back to see how we were doing, if we needed anything. When I was almost finished with my sandwich and my ice tea long gone, she looked at the table and asked "that was ice tea?" I nodded my head, yes. Geez, I thought I was going to get a refill. No such luck. Finally, with both of us finished, she came and took our plates. Asked if we wanted dessert. I held in the thought, yeah, but we want to get home sometime today. We passed. We waited for the check. And waited. And waited. I'd say close to ten minutes. Now remember, the place wasn't busy. There were very few people eating. Brian got up and I went with him. He walked over to the cash register. Our waitress was filling water glasses and looked over her shoulder. After a couple of minutes, she walked over and handed Brian the bill. It was $15.03. He handed her $15.05. She looked through her tips for change. I'm thinking, why doesn't she just open the damn register like she should? Brian finally said, don't worry about it. We walked out and it dawned on me. He hadn't left a tip. For the first time since I've known him, he didn't leave a tip. We're talking fourteen and a half years. I laughed. Hey, you didn't leave a tip!! He said there was no excuse for the service we got. And I laughed again. He said she got the order wrong (no cheese, meat not cooked to order), she didn't come back and she didn't bring us the bill. Well, I guess she did get a two cent tip....."keep the change"... We aren't going back there for a long, long time. The service has gotten progressively worse since it opened. He said we will do what we were doing. Go to Julian (I LIKE Julian!!) and try each eatery. And I said, well, you do remember my reaction when you told me where we would have lunch.

On the way back, I said something about raising beef. I told him that I had been thinking about it and if he decided to do it, that I would probably quit eating beef altogether. I said that I just kept thinking about City Slickers and Billy Crystal and Norman. That I just wouldn't be able to do it. I don't think I would have a problem with chickens, though. And I think Brian might have a problem with it, too. He said that the book he's reading mentions that, that you can't get too attached to the cattle. Because of the very reason you are raising them and that if one gets too sick, you have to be able to put it down and bury it, not pump a lot of money into saving it. Because you only get $1000 a head. After he thought about it a while, he said "maybe I could raise sheep. Because you don't kill them, you just raise them for wool". You know, thinking about it, I can't imagine Brian would be able to do what had to be done. He's just too big of a softy.

I didn't see Cleo yesterday. I don't think she's coming over at night anymore. But I did see Blackie, OC and Angus.

Simplenet, my domain host, was down last night. And I could have screamed. There was a cat in the chair and in the tv. Wouldn't you know it? Hours and hours go by, with no cat in either, then both are filled. Dagnabit.

Georgie has been crying a bunch in the evening. I let him out, then he soon wants back in. Then he wants out. I didn't play last night. I let him out once, he came in, that was it. The end of it. He cried and cried. And he sounds so pathetic. Brian went into the living room and picked him up, brought him back in to watch tv with him. He spent a long time petting Georgie's head. Then Georgie ran off and started crying at the door again. He finally got tired of doing this, came in and laid down on my blanket and started kneading and purring. He settled down.

It's COLD this morning. brrr......

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january 10, 1999 Well. Yesterday one of my dreams came true. I was surfing the internet, listening to Madonna on the CD player, the Bedtime Stories album. It was a nice day and I had all of the windows and doors open. Around 11:30, I heard the doorbell. Brian was working, had to do some stuff in Olivenheim. I answered the door and it was a kid from up the street. He asked if we had lost a cat. "No, our cats can't leave the property" I told him. He said "well, this cat was at our door and it was purring and let us pick it right up". What does it look like? I asked out of curiosity, knowing full well that we aren't interested in any more cats. He told me that the tale was dark, there was dark on the paws and that the ears were dark brown and it had a mask. The rest was white. Oh, I said, it sounds pretty. (*yawn*) Then he just had to go and say "and it has the prettiest blue eyes". Oh..........No........... I said "blue eyes?" "Yes," came the answer. Well, spit. I just had to see this cat. I didn't even put on shoes. I walked with him down to his home. There she was. This adorable little blue eyed kitty with an adorable mask (she looks like a raccoon). I held her. She wasn't purring, but she sounded bad, and it wasn't all the time. But it wasn't purring and it wasn't through her nose, it was in her chest. Something was wrong with her breathing. She smelled bad, I thought like fireplace ashes. I told him I would take her. I told him my husband was going to be very angry with me. But I took her anyway. He said that if I didn't take her, they would keep her. No problem. I don't think she'll be going back.

My vet recently started having the clinic open on a half day on Saturday and I was concerned about her breathing. The office closed at noon and it was now 11:55. I call. Jennifer answered the phone, said that they were very busy this morning, and behind. I explained the situation to her. She put me on hold and talked to the vet. By the time she got back with me, it was after noon. She said "bring the kitty in". I hadn't taken a shower yet, because I was doing laundry and no way am I gonna take another lukewarm shower. I started using a different conditioner on my hair the day before and my hair hadn't adjusted yet, it looked really greasy, bad enough to fry a chicken in. I put on a really cute (I think) baseball hat, it looks almost like a beany, it has different (dull) colors and I have a little cat pin secured to the front. I grabbed the keys and my purse, put them on the floor, put the kitten in a carrier and off we went. Once at the vets, we sat and waited. There was a dog in the background that was howling like he was in major pain, but that's what some dogs do. An older couple came out of one of the rooms and talked to another woman (who is in Pug rescue) about the vet. I guess their dog is in a bad way, blew out both knees in the back somehow. They had gone to a different vet earlier and ended up at my doc's. The woman next to me told them that he walked on water. (Just about.) I told them that I had been going there for over ten years and that we were really happy with him. They paid, left and the woman next to me went into an examining room with her dog. Mew came out and introduced himself to the kitten in the carrier, and she tried swatting him through the openings. He was a little surprised. I noticed that, finally, after all these years, something I gave the vet for Christmas was actually hanging on the wall. The "Fat Cat Capsizing" was above the window to one of the examining rooms. Cool. The vet's daughter was also there, waiting for dad. They are finally ready for us. I take the kitten in and Charlene weighed her. She is about 4.04 pounds. Then the doc comes in.
"Nice hat" he says.
"Thanks. You like it?"
"No."
"Geez, neither does Brian. Well, it looks much better than my hair," I say.
"I doubt that."
You know, someday I'll find out what so awful about this hat. I really do like it. Anyway, he looks at the kitten. Looks in her ears "bad case of ear mites". Looks in her mouth, says she's about four months old. I told him that I was concerned about her breathing. He took an instrument and held it below her nostrils, like you see people do with mirrors in the movies or tv to see if people are alive. He said there was very little coming out of that nose, that she was extremely plugged up. He put drops in her nose and I think it was a surprise to her and she nailed him. He said that this had been the day from hell and if they had too many more Saturdays like this one, he wasn't gonna be open anymore on Saturdays. He took her temperature, which was normal. And then, he took blood for the leukemia test. She was a very good little patient. I waited while the test was run and it was negative. She was gonna be okay. He sent me home with earmite medicine, Clavamox drops and some other drops that I put in her nose, to help clear it up. I am to change clothes whenever I see her and wash my hands well after, so that I don't infect the other cats. He said that even though our cats may be immune to some strains of URIs, if this one is a little bit different, they won't be immune to it. Just like people.

She very much wants to be out of that room.

When I got home, I paged Brian. I told him. He wasn't jumping for joy. I told him what the vet said, about how she wouldn't haven't gotten better, just gone downhill because of how bad the URI was. I think that might have helped. He still had more work to do and said he didn't know when he would be home. The other cats know something is up and they sniff at the door. I wonder if any of them can catch the URI by doing this. And then I wonder what we are going to name her. I want a nice name, an exotic name. I like Callista, as in Ally McBeal. Brian thinks it's too big for a cat. And he won't let her be named something that we have to shorten. Like calling her Callie, instead of Callista. I say what about Azure? Azure is the blue of the sky, like her eyes. He said he likes Callista better than Azure. I tell him that she needs a name. He's going to be gone for a week and I want to call her something. Then I say what about Ciara (Keera) or Heather? We settle on Ciara. Ciara, remember, is my young Irish cousin. The name fits this little beauty. Ciara Vista. (Well, it could have been Callista Vista, that has a fun ring to it.)

I notice that her pantaloons had been trimmed. I wonder if she was dumped. Those pantaloons didn't trim themselves. I think about this. I tell myself that she probably had diarrhea from a bad diet and the owners did this to keep her clean. Then they just dumped her when she looked like it was gonna cost some money to take care of her. Her back paws were dirty. The smell on her was motor oil, according to the vet. She has a bad URI and bad earmites and fleas and tapeworms. I'm not giving her up to someone who would let her out like this. I called the people that I got her from and told mom "you've never seen this cat" if someone comes looking. She laughed, said okay. Brian was a little concerned about it. I explained my reasoning. How can they be responsible owners if she's gotten this bad? He agrees.

She cries at the door to the exercise room. She wants out. But I can't let her out, not yet. I can't chance the other cats getting sick. I'm afraid this might happen anyway, but I will do what I can to prevent it. This morning, her breathing was somewhat better. She sounds like one of those snotty little kids, with the green mucus dripping down their face. Yesterday, she could barely breathe through her nose. The stuff is breaking up inside of it and her nose is runny. This is good. Her crying woke me up at 5 this morning and I went in to see her. She actually purred for me. She is so cute.

Today, we have to go shopping for cat food. We are almost out and Ciara needs kitten food. Brian is leaving this afternoon or tomorrow to go back to Phoenix. And today is my mom's birthday. We have to go see her and we still have to get her present(s). I think CDs for her system will be a good gift.

Tomorrow, I am going to make an appointment for DeeJay. He seems to have lost weight. I want to make sure he's okay. He's acting all right and he doesn't look ill, but I don't like the weight loss. Better safe than sorry.

Brian was just getting ready to leave, to talk to his brother about plans for today. When they should leave. He yells "honey!!" I yell back "what?" "Come here." "Why?" "There's a hummingbird caught in the entry way." I walk out the door, shut it behind me. This happens often enough that we leave a ladder in the entryway. He pulls out the ladder, we open it up. I climb it. Catch the hummer in my hands, against my chest. It's easy to do, you just have to remember "be gentle". I climb down the ladder, walk out into the yard, move my hands. The hummingbird is holding onto my sweatshirt. Brian said "he's tired". Finally, the little bird wings his way into a tree. I go back into the entry way, fold up the ladder, put it back in its spot. I open the screen door. Twist the knob on the front door. Locked. DAMMIT!! I had to walk around to the side of the house, no big deal. Brian automatically locks the door behind him. I guess he forgot.

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january 11, 1999 Ciara woke me up this morning at 3:30. I got out of bed, grabbed an afgan and went in to see her, putting on my *Ciara clothes*. I laid down on the floor with her and we smurgled a little bit. I dozed and at one point, she actually slept next to me. I left the room and went back to bed at 5:30. And I know that I can't catch a cat's cold and that it's just a coincidence, but my nose is all messed up.

Since yesterday was so nice, I opened up the windows, including the one in the exercise room. Ciara found out that she could jump up onto the exercise bike seat and reach the window from there. I was outside and held kitties up to see her. Not too close, I don't want anybody getting sick. Maggie hissed. And hissed. And hissed. Pepper just looked at her. Benny was kind of interested. And Georgie? Oh, Georgie wants to meet her. He really wants to meet her. He sniffed and sniffed the air, craning his head forward, trying to get a little closer. When I put him down, he stood on the wood, trying to reach up to the window. And Ciara didn't pay too much attention to the cats. But I don't think she cares for dogs. She wouldn't take her eyes off of Junior. She kept watching him. And was very interested when the other cats would go up to him.

I took a few pictures of her yesterday. I'll take some more today. She is such a little cutie. She is definitely sounding better.

Benny has dried runny poop down his pantaloons. Now what? I hope it was just a one time thing. They haven't gotten any milk. It must be from rolling in the dirt. Darn it.

I changed the blanket on the catcam chair and the towel in the catcam tv. It looks like somebody sprayed into the tv. No wonder nobody is sleeping in it. I cleaned it up.

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january 13, 1999 I just got back from the vet. DeeJay had his vet appointment this morning and the vet couldn't find anything wrong with him, so I okayed blood tests. I guess it was a good thing. He called me back a little while ago and said that DeeJay's BUN and Creatinine (sp?) levels were high normal. His phosphorus was normal. He has the beginning of kidney disease. Since the phosphorus was okay, his kidneys are still functioning properly, there isn't any damage. He said that usually this problem isn't caught this early, which I think doubly surprised him because we have so many cats. And if I would have waited another six months, like he sees much more often than he likes, until his symptoms were more noticible, it would have been too late. As it is, diet can do wonders. He's gonna be on K/D for life. The way it's formulated, the kidneys won't have to work so hard to clean the toxins out of the system. He said that K/D really be a good thing to feed the older cats anyway. *sigh* I went over there and bought a bag. It was only four pounds. I ordered bigger bags.

While I was there this morning, I also got a couple of prescriptions of Clavamox for the adult cats. In case any of them get Ciara's URI. If they don't, I can use it on Blackie. I'm a little nervous about the resident cats because I let Ciara out yesterday. She was going crazy in that room by herself and I was getting tired of changing clothes and washing my hands continuously. Besides the fact that there is an inch gap between the bottom of the door and the hallway, because the hallway isn't carpeted like it was when the door was ordered. So, these cats were nose to nose under the door anyway. And many times I saw Ciara's little paw stuck all the way out as far as it would go. I called the vet yesterday and asked if it would be okay for Ciara to come out. Jennifer asked how long it had been, I told her and she said that it should be fine. Ciara isn't sneezing and her nose isn't runny. She sounds better all the time. It will be nice when she sounds normal, though. I opened the door and let her out.

Oh, boy, I never expected what happened. Not in a million, zillion years. Ciara is aggressive and she ain't afraid a nuttin. She came out running. She started chasing. Chasing the other cats. I think she just wanted to play. Oh, the cats hissed. And growled. And postured. And Ciara just looked at them. There was a little slapping going on. Bart was petrified, running out the cat door as fast as he could get through it. Serves him right for keeping Red in the rafters for a year. *grins* And she followed Georgie everywhere. I think she likes him. She sniffed some other cats, Pepper thought she would get into a little slapping match, Kirby ran outside, no way was he gonna be in the same house with this new thing, Red? Well, the Red cat ran back up into the rafters, where he knows he's safe. Maggie took one look and out she went. Ciara had cleared the room. There wasn't a cat to be seen, except for Ciara and Mickey. Mickey is our mighty cat, our fearless wonder. He wasn't afraid. He followed Ciara around. She checked out the house, going from room to room, talking the entire time (she loves to talk). Any cat that hadn't left yet, was soon gone. Or gone to a much higher level. I was just amazed. I was laughing. I was happy that she wasn't scared. Time came to get the cats in and fed. She came into the garage, where the food was. She ate. The other cats all backed away, letting her have a bowl to herself. As a matter of fact, she had a couple of bowls to herself. Lonee, Red and Kirby watched her from the rafters. Gracie watched from the highest level of a cat tree. All were on alert. Cats fed, I settled back to watch some television. Ciara wandered through the house, still sniffing, still trying to play with one of the other cats. I heard hissing and spitting in the living room, which turned into a catfight in the hallway. I pushed Rusty and Lola off of me and quickly went to see who was fighting. The only cat I was sure that was involved was Georgie. I grabbed the Feliway, a tissue and squirted. I got Georgie and let him smell it. He rapidly calmed down. Then I started looking around for who the other cat might have been and noticed that Bart wasn't present. The scaredy cat had stayed outside. I went out and called him a couple of times. He ran to me, talking to me all the way. "Is she gone? Is it safe? Is she gonna get me? She's really scary, her eyes don't look right!!" I picked him up and hugged him all the way inside. He purred for me and when I put him down in the laundry room, he cautiously made his way into the living room. By this time, Ciara was settling down a little and wasn't in view. He went into the garage and ate his dinner. Later, I saw him fast asleep on his spot on the couch, the same place he was this morning. As the night went on, I only heard one more squirmish, this time between Maggie and the small intruder kitty. When I went to investigate, Maggie was in the circle part of the Kitty Klimber and Ciara was on the floor, looking around. She didn't see where Maggie had gone. I quietly petted Maggie, gave her a kiss and a scratch between the ears, told her she was a good girl and went back out to watch television.

Since Lisa is a major baby, I decided not to sleep in the bedroom, but to use the couch. Ciara had made herself comfortable in one of the baskets in the kitty entertainment center, where I could easily see her. I turned the television off. Cats on me and at my face, I went to sleep.

At 2:30, Ciara's cries woke me up. I thought that this wouldn't happen once she was out of the exercise room. I was mistaken. I dozed on and off until I finally got up, a little after 6. Around 5:24, I heard a rumble, then felt the shake. The cats were sitting up, alert. Watching the news later, I found out there had been a couple of earthquakes, the first around 2:30. No wonder she was crying. But that doesn't explain all the other nights. *yawn*

I let the cats out and Kirby was one of the first to hightail it out of the house. I've noticed that Ciara is a little like Junior. She only chases when she has something to chase. She does make a big detour around Pepper. It was darned cold out this morning and I saw Red outside all huddled up. Kirby wasn't doing too much better. I sure hope they get over it soon. I think they will. Ciara seems to be getting the hang of life here, who she can bug and who she can't. And she is just so darn cute and lovable. I think even Annie, who is afraid of everybody, might like her once she sees there's no threat contained in what Ciara is doing. Especially when Ciara just lays down and rolls over onto her back, offering up her tender, vulnerable parts. She just wants to play.

I had to go to the bank and I took the film in. Six rolls. One of almost all Ciara. I took more pictures of her on a new roll today. I hope they turn out.

Oh, one other thing that I don't think I've mentioned. We think Ciara is a Ragdoll. I wouldn't doubt if she's purebred. Because she does everything that Ragdolls are supposed to do, according to all of the information I've read. It's kind of funny. Back when we were looking for a purebred kitty, before we decided on a Maine Coon, I actually called on Ragdolls. We didn't get one because we heard/read they were very laid back and not prone to showing pain or illness. Which isn't a good idea for a cat in our home. I need all the notice I can get. We've since found out that that's a bunch of hooey. This morning at the vet's, the doc told Sheri that the kitten was Himalayan. I told him that after looking through our books that we've decided she's a Ragdoll. He looked at me like I was nuts. Sheri told him the Ragdolls were a real breed of cat. He had never heard of them. Well, he's a vet, not a cat fancier. So, when I went back to get the food for DeeJay, I took my book with me. He was in surgery, but I showed the picture to Charlene. I paid her for the food and I traded her my change for dollar bills. By the time we were done, the doc was out of surgery and she took the book to him. He agreed. Said that she sure does look like that kind of kitty. I guess I got my Ragdoll after all.

new~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~newday~~~day

january 14, 1999 I am so tired. I can't even believe how tired I am. I thought that Ciara would quit doing the crying thing when she was a little more settled in. Now, I realize that she'll quit doing the crying thing when she is no longer in heat. She's driving me nuts. I thought about putting her in a room by herself, but that stupid little head voice of mine said "but why do you want to punish her for something she has no control over?" Now, I'm thinking, I'll put me in a room by myself. Everything I've read says not to spay when in heat. And common sense says not to have surgery performed when she has an upper respiratory infection. So, it looks like I'm stuck with this kitten trilling and yowling and chirping all night long for as long as it takes. Which, according to what I've read, is anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of months. How about a couple of hours? I'm going to call the vet today to see if there is the equivalent of a human birth control pill for cats. Something that will trick her body into thinking she's pregnant. So, I can have some peace while she recuperates from the URI. On top of that, my own immune system is getting worn down, because I'm not getting decent sleep and the cold I've been fighting for so long looks like it's made it. I've been coughing since I got up, in between the yawns and eye rubbing. It looks like my dream kitty came with a price. *weak smile*

Once again, I slept on the couch. At one point, I had four cats on me. Georgie at my ankles, Mickey or Pepper on my knees, Rusty on my side and Benny on my head. Try moving fast with that many cats on you. You can't do it.

When Brian called last night, I told him the news about DeeJay. He was disappointed. It would have been nice to get a report like Bobby's. But he understood that diet will play a big part in DeeJay's longevity. And I also received email from somebody who had a cat that had this for eight years before going to the bridge at the age of 21 and I told him about that. I think that made him feel a little better.

The pictures should be ready this afternoon. I'm going to pick up some earplugs while I'm there.

Oh, I almost forgot!! Last night, when I fed the outfront kitties, OC and Angus sat patiently outside the gate. I talked gently to them as I usually do. And I heard a purr!!! OC was purring!!! He came partway in the entryway, about four feet from me and waited until I was through dishing up the food. When I went inside, I stood at the screen door and talked to him and he was still purring. Wonderful!!

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lisaviolet is fifty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.








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