kitty update-ish
Phoenix seems to be doing quite fine. We've been watering him twice a week, and I've learned that warming up the sub-Q fluids really does help a lot - room temp, he does quite a jump when they start flowing, body-ish temp he doesn't. Also, having the needle whipping around squirting out water is more pleasant when it's warm. (He's jerked it out twice during sessions. I'm still figuring out how best to keep him still. My default hold is scruffing him, but since that's where I tend to stick him, that's no go.) He always acts sulky right after I let him go - "You gave me a lump! Mean person!" - but in just a minute he's back out running around hyper loving kitty.
I've built the feeding box, but I'm still slowing trying to acclimate him to it. He looks really baffled that his food is put in Box instead of Kitchen, but at least he'll eat in the box with encouragement. (I could put the box in the kitchen, but it's in the preferred food eating place in the dining room. Phoenix insists on the food being presented in the kitchen, but only nibbles a little, then looks for it in the dining room, and gets sad if it's not there.)
I always think that the term "pussy-whipped" really refers to people who own (are owned by?) cats.
Did I mention the (probable) rats? *checks* Ah, only on FaceBook. Well, the disturbing: rats in my car! Okay, only under the hood. Where they stashed their snail shells and peed all over everything. Shorting things out. *headdesk* I was Very Not Happy when my car just stopped less than a mile from home. (In the middle of a busy street. I was tempted to push it home, but too much traffic to be safe. I would have loved to just abandon it there, but no. I told it that this was not making a good case to be kept, instead of being replaced by a Leaf.) I think it's all happy now - the electrical system, catalytic converter (got clogged up due to poorly firing spark plugs), and ignition control system have been replaced. What fun! But now that it's all fixed, I'm happy with my car again. It goes vroom! No, really, I've had it for... quite a while... and although i'm not one to name my cars, it does feel in some way like part of me, since i know so well how it moves.
I did have some sort of warning about this, actually. I used to carpool to work with Earl, which fell apart when he got his new job. Being a cautious person, I checked out my (seldom driven) car. Tire pressure - oh, dear. Filled them all up. Good wiper blades. Fluids - oil good, transmission fluid good, windshield wiper fluid good. But when i first opened up the hood - snail shells! Empty snail shells shoved in every nook and cranny. I don't *like* snails, but i don't *hate* them either - but seeing the vast piles of shells, almost white at the bottom but pretty new at the top, triggered a vast "Ick!" reflex. I got a stick, knocked them all out of the engine compartment, examined the belts, hoses, and wires for damage, and tried very hard to forget the ickiness. My brain said that it was some sort of vast unexplained snail migration to the car, where they had a dieoff, and I wasn't going to argue, because that would mean thinking about it.
When the car was at the shop, the guy said "There were a lot of snail shells in the engine compartment - like five." I had to laugh. There were at least 75-100 that I had knocked out that several months ago. Ew.
There's the question of "How do I make whomever's been using my engine compartment as a midden to stop it?" I've been parking my car elsewhere at home (on the street instead of in the driveway), we cut back a bunch of the vegetation, and I've ordered some coyote pee. We'll see.
Although one of my coworkers made me laugh - "Cat's such a weirdo, she keeps snails in her car!" (Revolutionary Girl Utena. If you don't know it, don't worry.)
I've built the feeding box, but I'm still slowing trying to acclimate him to it. He looks really baffled that his food is put in Box instead of Kitchen, but at least he'll eat in the box with encouragement. (I could put the box in the kitchen, but it's in the preferred food eating place in the dining room. Phoenix insists on the food being presented in the kitchen, but only nibbles a little, then looks for it in the dining room, and gets sad if it's not there.)
I always think that the term "pussy-whipped" really refers to people who own (are owned by?) cats.
Did I mention the (probable) rats? *checks* Ah, only on FaceBook. Well, the disturbing: rats in my car! Okay, only under the hood. Where they stashed their snail shells and peed all over everything. Shorting things out. *headdesk* I was Very Not Happy when my car just stopped less than a mile from home. (In the middle of a busy street. I was tempted to push it home, but too much traffic to be safe. I would have loved to just abandon it there, but no. I told it that this was not making a good case to be kept, instead of being replaced by a Leaf.) I think it's all happy now - the electrical system, catalytic converter (got clogged up due to poorly firing spark plugs), and ignition control system have been replaced. What fun! But now that it's all fixed, I'm happy with my car again. It goes vroom! No, really, I've had it for... quite a while... and although i'm not one to name my cars, it does feel in some way like part of me, since i know so well how it moves.
I did have some sort of warning about this, actually. I used to carpool to work with Earl, which fell apart when he got his new job. Being a cautious person, I checked out my (seldom driven) car. Tire pressure - oh, dear. Filled them all up. Good wiper blades. Fluids - oil good, transmission fluid good, windshield wiper fluid good. But when i first opened up the hood - snail shells! Empty snail shells shoved in every nook and cranny. I don't *like* snails, but i don't *hate* them either - but seeing the vast piles of shells, almost white at the bottom but pretty new at the top, triggered a vast "Ick!" reflex. I got a stick, knocked them all out of the engine compartment, examined the belts, hoses, and wires for damage, and tried very hard to forget the ickiness. My brain said that it was some sort of vast unexplained snail migration to the car, where they had a dieoff, and I wasn't going to argue, because that would mean thinking about it.
When the car was at the shop, the guy said "There were a lot of snail shells in the engine compartment - like five." I had to laugh. There were at least 75-100 that I had knocked out that several months ago. Ew.
There's the question of "How do I make whomever's been using my engine compartment as a midden to stop it?" I've been parking my car elsewhere at home (on the street instead of in the driveway), we cut back a bunch of the vegetation, and I've ordered some coyote pee. We'll see.
Although one of my coworkers made me laugh - "Cat's such a weirdo, she keeps snails in her car!" (Revolutionary Girl Utena. If you don't know it, don't worry.)