In Memoriam

     Dexter died Saturday, April 26, 2014, of a blood clot.  He’d been diagnosed with congestive heart failure a year and a half ago.  He was very brave and a good patient in taking his medicine to keep his symptoms at bay for as long as possible.  To the very end, he was deeply affectionate, curious and a great listener.  He’d check out what was happening on the street, both from his window bridge perch and on his forays to our adjacent neighbors.  He fiercely guarded the house from various foes that he battled or drove off.  He was always kind to friends, and he could see through a fool pretty quickly.  He came to enjoy travel and car rides. We already miss him terribly.  

     We started our blog because Dexter was an inspiration.  The focus won’t be on him as much for future posts, but his spirit will continue to shine through.

Cats Rule

The latest Monopoly token backs me up

The Cat Monopoly Token

     I’ve known for a long time that cats rule.  There are more of us than dogs and we can run faster and jump higher if we have to (and we usually have to).  We eat less and we can clean up after ourselves.  What we have left over helps things I like eating in the garden grow.  So the latest is that Hasbro, which makes Monopoly, asked people to vote for the newest game token.  There were five choices.  One was a helicopter, though it was hard to tell that was what it was.  It looked more like a saltcellar the guys might have. The diamond ring was nice, but if everyone can’t wear a diamond ring, then I don’t think it’s fair.  There was a robot, though it looked like something that was broken in a kid’s closet and a guitar.  The cat won!!!!!!  It has a bell around its neck.  I had a bell around my neck, but not for long. 

That's Me...When I Wore a Collar

Holiday Road Trip

Dexter travels over the holiday break

     I did not know what was happening when the guys were loading up the car with my private box and my food and water dishes.  Next, Neil took me out and Eric opened the door and we were in the car.  It wasn’t my first time, but there were all kinds of things in it so I knew we were going a long way.  I wanted to see all the trees and birds outside.  Neil let me look around the front and out of the big window and then I jumped down to where it was cooler because I was thirsty.  I had to stay there for a little while until we stopped.

     I stayed in my own apartment at Cousin Dale’s where there were pictures of other animals.  There was a bigger cat there than me, but he was really quiet.  There were many places I had to check out, but I didn’t find any mice.  I tried hard, though.  Neil’s family came down and visited, which was a lot of fun.

     Two days later we were leaving early in the morning.  There was white fluffy snow everywhere and the guys thought there would be a lot more.  I kept trying to tell them that they had forgotten my scratching pad, but they wouldn’t listen. 

The car made some weird noises when we hit wet stuff and I could see other cars off the road.  I was worried, but we made it home fine.  Travel is very broadening and I look forward to my next trip!

It's Not Usually All About Me

Sorry, but I've been under the weather this week.  A little feverish and not much of an appetite.  Neil and Eric finally insisted that I see the Doc.  They always go with me.  I guess they're afraid I won't report everything back to them.  Dr. Jaax said I have an infection that they're treating with an antibiotic.  Neil volunteered to give it to me with an eye dropper because I'm not too fond of pills.  (Actually, I usually hide them when they try to disguise them in my food...hee, hee).  The assistants also gave me an IV drip because I was rather dehydrated.  I know, probably TMI.  I'd think they were really cute if they didn't always try to stick things into me.

So, if you pick up a summer bug in the air, remember to drink plenty of water and get lots of rest.  I'm hoping to be back in full swing by early next week.

Desperate Dexter

Dexter Arrives at the Back Door

I hadn’t eaten in three days. The last time had been when I was batting around a ball, something I could keep going for pass after pass and usually to wide-eyed and gasping approval. That time it had meant dinner, though I kept glancing quickly over my shoulders to eat it before the Others appeared. They would challenge, they would elbow me, they would push, and I’d be forced to stand my ground. I could be patient; I’d had to be on a daily basis. I couldn’t take my eyes off whatever might be dinner. The slightest movement in my range of vision would alert me. As the day darkened, it was much easier to pinpoint whatever I might need because the Others were either frightened or inattentive; he was rarely either.

Water was fine. I could always locate it in a container, or along a path or on the banks of a hill, or by searching for a dripping faucet or hose. Nights were getting longer and would soon be colder so I would have to find or create shelter. There was a deck I’d hidden under for a couple of nights though, almost unbelievably, a female had appeared from around the wall and started pacing around me. I stayed still, wondering if she was a friend or foe. She circled me and she was certainly attractive, considering her long, thick, smoky dark hair, but I wasn’t interested. She rubbed against me and I jumped back. I wished she would just go away. I could smell her and it was what had surrounded me from when I’d entered the garden so she lived there. Couldn’t she just go on and leave me here 

alone for the night?

Her yowling pushed me against the wall. I reached out to touch her, just to quiet her, and she rolled onto her back. I knew I should get out of there immediately. This was a complication that was beyond my survival. I slowly – almost imperceptibly, I thought – moved along the wall. She didn’t notice as she rolled back and forth, obviously in a state of self-ecstasy. I was near the threshold to the garden when an enormous monster roared at me and shot water all over me. I ran, darting along the fence. I leapt to the top of the fence and then jumped to the next garden.

I’d found a place beneath the back steps in this place. It was cool and dry. There were some newly fallen leaves that I’d pulled together. I could sleep there that night; it was large enough for me, but too tight for the Others to attack me. I hadn’t seen anyone else around there for a few days. I’d scouted around, investigating at dawn and after dark. The next morning, after stirring and sharpening my weapons on the bark of a sorghum tree, I sat underneath the purring machine they moved around in and waited for one of them to leave the house and discover me.

The dark one found me and reached towards me. I paused but, once his hand was too close, I darted away. He had energy and I thought he might wrench me up. I’d found some leftover food in a bowl a few houses away during that day. I’d avoided contact with any of the Others before returning to the leafy place for a second night. A couple of creepy-crawlies were staggering around the bottom of the tree so I clomped them quickly and swallowed them before I could take a breath. They were crunchy and there was a slight after effect of goo, but they’d get me through until I could find a real home.

I wasn’t always outside. I lived in a house; it was my house and I thought I’d stay there forever. Something went wrong, but I don’t know what it was. It’s fun being outside because you have to live for adventure. Sometimes you gotta take a stand, be ready to defend yourself, keep the Others at bay. It’s tough, but that’s the way it goes. The worst is the cold. You can’t tell how long it will go on: that’s the major challenge. I don’t like cages and certainly not after they put me in one and latched the metal teeth together so that I was stuck. I yelled at them, but they weren’t listening. They carried me into the big purring machine and we rode and rode. It was a long time, more than when I nap. They stopped and carried me out, pulled the teeth apart and bid me to come out. I sniffed and looked around. One of them (the young one who had played with me ever since I could remember) put out a bowl of milk for me. I went over to it immediately and felt it with my pads, then licked them. It was really good and I drank some more and some more. I didn’t hear the big purring machine start again or that it took off. I finished the milk and looked up and saw that I was alone. It was a great distance from there to where I’d come from and I didn’t know how to get there. Instead, I started to look around where there might be ones who’d let me share their home.

I let the dark one rub my head the second day and then under my chin the third day and I hoped. It was going to take a gift so that he and the other one knew I cared enough to do my part. Through the day, I prowled around the house, hiding behind the bushes. There were many flowers where I could hide and not be seen by the little running things with their skinny, tapering tails. They smelled of dust. When night fell, they would come out, scampering beside walls. Hours passed and a grey one ran, stopped, and ran again. I leapt, my weapons out and slicing through its throat. I nibbled it, enough to survive for another day, but then I laid it out at the bottom of the steps so that both the dark one and the light one would know that I wanted to stay.