Month: September 2013

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The One in Which Reggie Goes Shopping (Next Door) and (Kind of) Makes a New Friend…

You know how, just a few short months ago, Mister demonstrated his finesse on the harness and I got to feel all guilty for not teaching him how to do that sixteen years ago?  I had just about gotten over it, when it happened again.  Only this time you can substitute “Reggie” for “Mister” and “Buddy Stroller” for “Harness.”  

Yes, apparently Reggie is a Rock Star in the Buddy Stroller.  Cut to the montage of Otto yowling up a storm going down Haywood Road in West Asheville…Wanda crying piteously as we attempt to take her for a stroll…Mister freaking the heck out of the turkeys during the one time I finally get him in the Buddy Stroller.  And then there’s Reggie, who just hunkered down, got very quiet, and enjoyed the ride… 
…All the way to next door, where our neighbors were having a yard sale.  I parked his little buggy and did some shopping, and he never made a peep.  Our neighbor on our other side came by with his cat-adoring dog, Tiko, who didn’t even notice Reggie was in the stroller.  Which I guess isn’t too surprising since Reggie is mostly black and the inside of the stroller is black, and he was being very still and quiet.  But Reggie’s aroma is evident on even his best days, so I’m a little stunned that Tiko didn’t notice that part.  I’m just saying.
Once Tiko did finally notice there was a cat in the pretty blue and white stroller, Tiko got very still as well.  Which is not to say that he wasn’t alert–he was straining at his leash so hard you could convince yourself you saw his muscles standing out around his neck, and he’s a pretty hairy guy.  The dog didn’t blink.  He trained his laser-like focus on Reggie with all his might, as though willing him to escape his mobile confines and come out and play.  Reggie pointedly ignored him.  Our neighbors having the yard sale were concerned, and I thank them for that.  If it had been any of the other cats besides Reggie, I would have been too.  But Reggie was so nonplussed it was actually comical.  
Finally our other neighbor dragged Tiko reluctantly away, and Tiko continued down the street for his walk with his human.  But as soon as we saw them coming back up the street, we noticed that Tiko was pulling our neighbor over to our side of the street to see if he could make contact with the kitty again.  So we had Round Two of Tiko staring and straining, and Reggie carefully ignoring.  It was kind of priceless.
I honestly think that Reggie would have stayed out all day if we’d let him.  There was a nice breeze, it was a pretty day, the birds were singing, the butterflies were flitting about, doing butterfly things.  Reg, I think, thought it was just about perfect, dog or no dog.  
We’ll be excursioning out to a restaurant or bar next, I assume.  (Yes, I know “excursion” isn’t a verb, and I also know how crazy it probably makes us look to take our cat out in a stroller.  But people get to take their dogs places all the time, and I’m pretty sure Reggie is one of the most dog-like cats I’ve ever known, so why should the actual canines get all the fun?  We’ll keep you updated on how that goes…)
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When Big Buddy’s Away…

Otto, as anyone knows who’s been following this blog, is preternaturally attached to Sean (or Big Buddy, as we often refer to him).  I have never seen a cat demonstrate such open, unreserved love for a human, though Wanda and Mister come close when it comes to me. 

So every time Sean has to leave town for some reason (this time it was a visit to his brother in Florida), Otto reacts the way anybody would when their favorite person in the world suddenly leaves them:  he gets depressed.  (I started to say “suddenly and without explanation,” but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate.  Sean always tries to explain to Otto where he’s going and why, and when he’ll be back.  Otto doesn’t really care about anything except that Sean’s gone and didn’t take Otto with him.)

So of course my job is to try to bring Otto out of his funk until Big Buddy gets back and can do it himself.  This is always my job when Sean goes out of town, as much as the feeding and scooping and watering and treating and playing is.  So when I got home from work on Thursday, I immediately tried to roust Otto with an offer to go outside and sit on the rocking chairs, which Otto gratefully accepted.  I’ve tried to do that with him every day, and for the most part I’ve succeeded, rainy days excepted.  I’ve made sure they’ve gotten daily treats, and daily mush (which has turned into a bit of an apothecary with all their herbal concoctions for various afflictions).  And for the most part, Otto has responded with smiles and contentment and a relaxation (particularly on the porch) that seems to say that if he can’t have his Big Buddy, then Big Buddy Girl on the porch is the next best thing.

On Saturday night though, Otto gave me his biggest Thank You yet.  Mush in the new house with the new kitty “medicines” has turned into quite the production.  Here’s who gets what:  everybody gets powdered gelatin for their joints; Otto also gets two capsules of Cosequin for his bladder and joints; Mister gets six drops of stuff for his kidneys, some CoQ10 and some extra water because he doesn’t do well with “dry” wet food; Wanda gets what’s left in the CoQ10 cap; and Elroy and Reggie share a Lysine capsule (because we discovered they won’t eat a whole one put in their mush).  But that’s not all…you have to give Otto his food thirty seconds before Reggie and Elroy, or they’ll finish theirs first and then go on to his, and you have to feed Wanda and Mister upstairs in the bedroom because they eat so slowly that there’s no way they’d get to finish their food otherwise.  Whew. 

So while I was running up and down the stairs like a crazy woman making sure Otto got to finish and Wanda and Mister were eating the correct saucers of food and not eating each others’ (which they occasionally do), I ran back downstairs to find Otto walking away from his plate and licking his lips contentedly.  I dashed off to the kitchen to make sure he’d actually finished and hadn’t just been run off by Piglet Number One or Piglet Number Two (Reggie and Elroy), but Reggie was grazing off Elroy’s plate and Elroy was nowhere to be found.  Otto really had finished his food his own self, and he was pretty happy about it.  

I reached down to him to give him a pat, and he responded with a low, guttural roar that I hadn’t heard before.  It actually startled me a little because it was so unexpected.  “Otto,” I exclaimed.  “What was that for?”  I was heading back to the stairs to check on Wanda and Mister, and Otto leaped into one of the living room chairs, hunkered down and immediately started doing the big dramatic “making biscuit” thing in the seat of the chair, all the while trilling with utter excitement and gazing up at me mischievously with his huge blue eyes.  I was on the stairs by then, and said something like “Otto, what are you doing?!” in the way that lets him know I’m just talking to him and not scolding him.  He stopped what he was doing suddenly, looked at me again, jumped off the chair and raced up the stairs as fast as his long legs would carry him.  I had to step over to get out of his way.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so fast up a set of stairs, but Otto was happy, and he was determined, and he wanted to show me he enjoyed his treat.  It warmed my heart to see this nearly-fourteen-year-old cat acting like a kitten, even with Big Buddy nowhere around.  (Of course I had to call him immediately after to tell him about Otto’s playfulness.)  

I was raised a good Southern girl, and my mom always taught me the value of thank you notes, but I’ve never had one as heartfelt and exuberant as the one Otto sent me Saturday night.  

You’re very, very welcome, Otto.  But after that show, I kind of feel like it’s me who needs to be thanking you.  Thank you for making our lives more magical, for the special way you love us, and for all you add to our lives that could never be added by anybody other than you.  Every day, we are grateful.