Beware The Ladybug

The weather's been rather nice the past few days, with temperatures in the 60s and 70s. This being the complete opposite of last Thursday through Sunday, where we were treated to a preview of a January blizzard.

So the woodland critters made a reappearance in the backyard, as well as the insects. While I was working at my computer, I noticed a tapping on the rear window and sliding glass door.

Ladybugs. Lots of 'em. Smacking themselves against the glass.

Went outside to find the rear of the house buzzing with them. Not swarms like I've heard about on the news, but still, a lot. They were using the drainpipe as a freeway, some traveling up, some traveling down.

This happens just about every October. They're looking for a warm place to hide for the winter, and in some cases, swarm into houses. We've never had this problem, only about ten or twenty actually find their way into the house throughout October. This usually serves as entertainment for our cat (both the old cat which passed way, and the new kitten). I'm the one rescuing them and pitching them outside. The ladybugs. Not the cat.

From what I read, ladybugs can sting, pee on you (defensive bleeding), and smell bad. Honestly, I've never noticed. I handle them all the time, and never had one sting or defensively 'bleed” on me. Then again, maybe we just have really laid back ladybugs.

Here's two of them, hanging out on the side of the house (click to enlarge):





Here's one with an assassin wheel bug (click to enlarge):




About four seconds before I took that photo, the ladybug had been motoring along the assassin's leg, and the assassin was waving it's long, robotic leg around, trying to dislodge said ladybug. Apparently they don't eat them.

I don't pick up assassins. They have a long, pokey stinger on their face, that they probably use for sucking blood from other bugs. I heard they eat spiders, which makes them awesome in my book.

To give you an idea of how weird looking the assassin bug is, here's a better shot. Check out the stegosaurus cog on it's back (click to enlarge):




Funny, I grew up in a small town, and thought we had plenty of insects. I had no idea there were so many weird things living in the woods of Pennsylvania.

Speaking of weirdness, here's a random photo of Leonidas being pathetic. Apparently, waiting too long for his sweet, sweet softie food caused all the bones in his body to collapse:

Snip

Leo was neutered and declawed last week. He took it in stride, mostly. By the time we picked him up from the doctors office, he had already yanked off those little gluey caps from his toes. He was all, “Yo. I don't need no stinkin' bandages.”

Truly a King Leonidas moment.

They gave us antibiotics in liquid form, and pain killer pills. The antibiotics were no problem, they slide right down. But the pills? One quarter of a pill every eight hours. Not a lot - but honestly, have you ever tried to give a pill to a cat?

Let me explain. Leo gets a can of Fancy Feast at dinner time, and kibbles during the day. Did I tell you he can tell time? Leo knows exactly when 6pm rolls around. You'll find him camped out in front of his bowl waiting for that sweet, sweet softie food.

So we tried mashing the quadrisected pill into subatomic particles, and mixing it into an ENTIRE CAN of kitty food. I don't know if he could smell it or taste it, but he refused to eat it. He'd just look at us like, “You're kidding, right? I know what you did. C'mere, I'll cut you.... YARRRGH! Wha? No claws......damn.”

Eventually, he'd nibble at it. Enough to get some painkiller into his system. At least I assume he did, because he certainly didn't act like anything was bothering him.

My biggest fear was that he'd try to jump or climb up something while healing, and miss badly. I shouldn't have worried......within 24 hours he was vaulting to all his favorite hang outs as if nothing ever happened. He effortlessly launched himself to the top of the front room shutters, reclaiming his territory, and resumed glowering at the neighbors.

After a few days, we noticed he was much less aggressive, probably due to the sudden lack of testosterone coursing through his kitty veins. He's been very affectionate, and not attacking my head when I sleep, so the nad-loss wasn't a big-loss.

Now that Fall is here, it's been chilly the last few days. Leo's not liking the colder weather one bit. Last night he crawled under the comforter, attached himself to the back of my knees, and wouldn't come out. At some point during the night he must've surfaced, because I found him asleep UNDER the edge of my pillow. Because he's becoming a bit of a lard-o, all that fit under there was his front half.

It's 48 degrees outside today, and maybe 62 in the house. Leo's been spending the day between the thick, fleece blanket in the front room, and his kitty tube in my office.

Crabby

I have cramps. I feel like Jack The Ripper is pulling my ovaries out through my kidney, and taking my spinal cord with it. So I guess I'm crabby, which may explain my tirade on LLBean last night.

In kitteh news, I'm calling the vet today to find out when Not-So-Little Leonidas can get snipped and declawed. Leo doesn't know how to interact with anyone without using teeth and claws anymore. He's a maniac with razors.

Unfortunately, he knows he's adorable and can play that well.

When caught doing something particularly evil, like kicking all the litter out of his box, or shredding the papers on my desk, he'll roll over on his back, paws up, and try to look submissive. Or he'll crawl into the crook of my arm and look up at me like, “I wuv you!”. Blink. Blink.

It's been a weekend of behavior relapses for him. He hasn't dumped water in over a week, then this morning he flooded the kitchen. He hasn't been keeping me up at night, but yesterday I went to bed early, so he took that as a cue to tackle my head for two hours.

Yesterday he was busy stealing stuffed toys from my daughter's room. He dragged a giant blue monkey downstairs by himself:

So, yeah. Not much sleep last night. Plus we LOUDLY, lost power at 12:30am. All the air conditioners stopped running at once, and the TV powered on (Our bedroom TV does this when we lose power. I don't know why.). It's amazing how loud the sudden quietness can be. Even though we got it back within 5 minutes, I woke up every half hour after that.

In other news, my diet/exercise regimen is failing beautifully. Remember those Slim Shots I mentioned back in July? Remember I said they didn't taste that bad? Well, they didn't at first. After about a week, I couldn't swallow them anymore. Too plasticky.

I'm still trying to maintain portion control, but my biggest downfall is stress eating and sugary snacks. I bought a book on stress eating which sucked ass. It spent the first 200 pages explaining why we stress eat, and gave examples of people's underlying problems.

I hate to self diagnose here, but I didn't fall into any of the categories which included: child abuse, spousal abuse, wanting to go back to the womb, unable to properly assert yourself, etc. etc. It took 200 pages before I got to a simple “eating because of work related stress”, in which case you're supposed to “challenge yourself” to not eat. They give you some examples of reassuring phrases to use when the urge strikes.

Yeah, I've got enough challenges with just keeping my job. I KNOW I'm not supposed to stress eat. If I need a mantra, I'll start practicing yoga. Which is probably a good idea, actually.

So it doesn't help that I did the grocery shopping whilst hungry, and in addition to the healthful items like lettuce, veg and low fat yogurt, I bought a tray of baklava. It was fresh and syrupy. The fillo crackled “Eat me!” from an aisle away.

I read recently about an herb called Gymnema. Supposedly it was used by herbalists to treat diabetes in ancient India and Africa. Now it's used in some Asian countries as a dietary supplement for weight loss. I got some from the local GNC for 9 bucks. Somehow, it manages to kill the urge for sweets. Or make them not taste quite so good. Since that's my Kryptonite, I'll try just about anything.

So far the Baklava hasn't been calling my name, so who knows. I'll let you know if I'm able to keep my paws off the pasteries. In the meantime, here's a link to the absolute best chocolate brownie recipe I've ever tried:

Baker's Chocolate One Bowl Brownies

Leotard

Not-so-little Leonidas enjoys tipping over his water bowl, spilling the contents on the kitchen floor, tap dancing in the puddle, and tracking wet kitty-prints across the rest of the house. He's even able to knock over the “no-tip” bowls.

On the plus side, I have a very clean floor now. However, it's incredibly irritating.

I read online that kittens do this because they like running water. Most people suggested getting a pet fountain that circulates and filters the water, allowing kitty some moving H2O, and hopefully putting an end to the flooding.

Fifty bucks later.....

You put your right paw in,
You pull your right paw out.
You put your left paw in,
And you shake it all about.

You put your left ear in,
You pull your left ear out.
You put your nostrils in,
And you jump 3 feet in the air.

You get the idea. He was practically bathing in it.

It did nothing to prevent the flooding. With such a large area of water to play in, Leo managed to stretch the dampness radius to around 6 feet.

I waited a few days, hoping it was just a phase. Heh. No.

On the third day, I found Leo nearly soaked from loooooving his new drinky bowl, so I decided to give him a real bath.

He's been fascinated by the tub anyway, and likes to hop in when it's empty. I was counting on this once the was tub filled. He did not disappoint!

Cattus Domesticus Dorkus.

He jumped right up to the edge, peered in, and slid. Within a split second, he realized his fatal mistake. All four legs shot out sideways, he spun in midair, and tried to climb out. Too slippery. Splash!

You ever see in the old Scooby Doo cartoons where the kids are running from a ghost, and their legs turn into propeller-like wheels, indicating they're trying to go fast, but haven't actually gone anywhere?

Yeah. That was Leo.

After that, it wasn't too bad. He reluctantly allowed me to soap him up with Kitty Bubbles, rinse and dry.

Now I'm trying to decide what to do with the water fountain. Maybe once he's out of the kitten stage he'll be less likely to play in it.

In the meantime, I'm considering baby bowls with suction cups.

More Simon's Cat

I just found out there's a new Simon's Cat.

I love how he illustrates the silly things real cats do, like the butt-wind up before the pounce, and how they play with bugs. And the destruction left in their wake:

Kitteh's Day Planner

6:30 am – Wake up. Walk up and down on The Master. Check Mommy's breathing. Stuff head up nostril. Burrow under pillow. If all else fails, do this:

6:31 am – Locked out of bedroom. Whine, attack door.

6:35 am – Head downstairs, use litter box. Play with toys. Play with poo.

7:00 am – FRESH KIBBLES! Inhale half, knock over water bowl. Play in water.

7:30 am – Relax on couch.

8:00 am til 10:00 am – Have a spaz attack. Beat up on mousey, chew on mommy's arm, attack television, run across dining room table, jump up on countertop, pull paper napkins onto the floor. Shred.

10:00 am – Nap on Mommy's lap.

10:30 am – Move to couch. Power nap.

1:00 pm – KIBBLES!

1:15 pm – Window time. Stare at birds, squirrels and deer in backyard. Show them who's boss.

1:30 pm – Nap.

3:00 pm – TOYS!

3:30 pm – Visit Master in lair upstairs. Climb chair, hang over Master's shoulder and watch him work.

4:00 pm – Nap.

5:00 pm – Time for Mommy to quit work. Launch self onto keyboard.

5:30 pm – Sit forlornly in front of food bowl until Mommy gets soft food. Help get can from fridge. Get stuck in fridge.

6:15 pm – Help with dishes. Lick every exposed surface in dishwasher.

6:16 pm – Dry self off after getting wet from squirt bottle.

6:30 pm – Climb front window. Sit on top half of pane and glare at neighbors.

7:00 pm – Nap.

10:00 pm – Spaz Attack Part 2: The Scratching Post. a/k/a – Kitteh The Billy Goat:

11:00 pm – Follow The Master and Mommy to bed.

11:01 pm – Climb bookcase, launch self onto television set, hop over to dresser. Knock over cologne bottles, shred papers.

11:02 pm – PLAYTIME! Attack Mommy's hair.

11:03 pm – Attempt to look cute. Roll onto back, paws up. Bellyrubz??

11:04 pm – Pass out on Mommy's head.


Thanks to my Sweetie for giving me the idea for “Kitten Day Planner”!

Itchy and Scratchy

Hey folks! I know, I've been neglecting you again.

So I'm preparing for a visit from Sis and her kids. The spare room is prepared, towels have been washed (can't have funky towels), the house is mostly clean. So in about 8 hours, KITTENWATCH 2009 begins, as Leonidas will be very excited to meet new people (he's always excited to meet new people) and will have some new feet to attack. But, he must be watched, as he is quite small and not the 200 pound jungle cat he seems to think he is.

Dude has certainly been a handful – he loves the fridge and the pantry – once you open either one, he's instantly there, ready to pounce on some coffee filters, cereal boxes or last night's leftovers. He's actually more of a furry projectile rather than a kitten.

Also, I've forgotten how much kittens make me itch. I woke up last Friday with some kind of blepharitis/eye goo issue from scratching my eyes too aggressively. I spent the weekend cleaning my eyeballs out 6 times a day and coating them with petroleum jelly to keep the itch down. And moisturize. By the way, I highly recommend Aquaphor. Thankfully, it subsided by Sunday and I was able to get through the day without clawing at my face.

Because of this, I undid all the great work of my current face cream. For about 3 months now, I've been using some new stuff my dermatologist gave me (I might write about it later), that promotes new collagen. My skin looked fantastic, especially under my eyes. Now I've got all my creases and bags back.

And! As a special treat! I woke up today with several red, itchy bumps on my cheek. I can't tell if they're mosquito bites, or just red, scary zits. You know, the kind that lurk just under your skin and never come to a head. You can still feel the lump under your skin a few months after they disappear from the surface. I'm falling apart, I tell you.

Here Comes Trouble

We've Leo-proofed the house, but it's surprising how much trouble something so small can get into.

The little squirt's been investigating every single corner of the house. Bouncing. He doesn't toddle anymore, just runs full speed or bounces.

If there's the smallest crevice anywhere, he'll try to stick his head in it. 10 points if it's got wires.

He even managed to scoot under my desk sideboard, a space of about 3 inches high. There's now a fat Linux book jammed there now. I knew I'd find a good use for that old manual.

In other news....

Yesterday, I finally bought some veggies for the garden. Normally, I plant them in late April or early May, but we've had such late frost (I had to scrape my car windows just last week), and if it's not freezing, it's pouring down rain.

I planted 2 tomatoes, a jalapeno, chili pepper, basil and rosemary. And it dropped to freezing temps again last night. It's June 1st for criminy's sake!! We shouldn't have any temperatures below 50!

Still, the plants look okay this morning. Thankfully it's sunny, and the high should be around 72.

I'll have to wait for the end of August for those delicious, home grown tomato sandwiches!

This Is Spartaaaaaaah!

We have a new member of the family. He is named Leonidas, after the King of Sparta.

"Leo", for short.

He's 9 weeks old, and as feisty as a little lion:























We've wanted a kitten for a while now, but found it nearly impossible to find one with "no strings attached". Apparently in our area of Pennsylvania, the only place you can get a kitten is through a breeder or a rescue shelter. We ended up driving out of the area to a reputable, old-style pet shop.

The local chain pet stores only sold kittens from the rescue shelters. As I've mentioned in an earlier post, they require you to fill out an application, which asks for information that is, quite frankly, none of their business. For example:

Do you rent or own your home?
Name of landlord?
Name and phone number of a reference who does not live with you.
Do you allow (shelter name) to visit your home after adoption?
How many children and adults live in your home, and what are their ages?
Do you plan to declaw the cat (I know from someone who adopted one of these cats, they do not allow you to declaw anyway).
Please list all your current pets, and include age and sex of pet.
List all pets owned in the last 5 years.

There's more, but I think you get the idea. On top of that, the kittens come pre-named, and they reserve the right to remove the kitten from your household if they're not satisfied with their "inspection" of your house. As I said before, it feels like your "borrowing" their personal pet.

I realize there's a lot of arseholes out there that abandon cats, and this application process probably began as a means to weed out people who tend to do this. I really can sympathize with that. But in some cases, the list of requirements for kitten adoption is getting a bit weird.

As a side note, I read an interesting story about 2 weeks ago. An elderly couple was denied adopting a puppy.

Serendipity Kitteh

Last month our cat died. It was bad. I'm not going to bore everyone with the details, blah blah blah. Besides, I'm saving that one for a different post.

I should at least mention this:

1) she was a “mutt”
2) she was an indoor cat
3) we bought her from a local mom 'n pop pet store for $10.

Best. Cat. Ever.

So we've been thinking of getting another cat, and toyed with the idea of a pure breed. After Googling around, we found that this could cost somewhere between $300-$1200 dollars, and often requires a contract of “things you will do, and are not allowed to do”. If the cost alone isn't a deterrent, the contract certainly is. I can sort of understand this if you're going to buy a show quality cat (snicker), or you're going to breed other show quality cats. But a pretty, pure breed pet? Nah.

Then some friends told me that adopting a regular “mutt” cat isn't too different. A few adopted from a chain pet store, only to find out the store itself doesn't sell the cats. They're just acting as the liaison between the crazy cat ladies and the customer.

It can be expensive too. I know someone who paid $100 for one of their “babies”. And then there's that contract again. Declawing is the biggest no-no. I've also heard: “you must spend at least ___ amount of time with pet”, and “no children under the age of ____ in the household”.

And the people selling the cat had the right to follow up with you and physically inspect the cat to make sure you're taking proper care of THEIR animal. If they find that you've broken the contract, they can take the cat back. No refund either.

Even weirder, sometimes the cats (and kittens) come PRE-NAMED, so if you were hoping for a Fluffy or Whiskers, it sucks to be you. Instead, you're getting a Winslow Forester Bartleby, or whatever other dopey name they came up with. In reality, you're just borrowing their pet.

So we put the word out to a few friends who sometimes have kittens, in the hopes of finding a free (or $10) kitten who needs a good home.

Then last night around 9pm – the first night with no rain and enough warmth that we could open the windows again – I heard a funny-sounding bird calling from the yard. It screeched for a solid half-hour before I decided to find out what it's problem was. So with flashlight in hand, I went trudging out the front door. The noise was coming from the hedge just below the open window, and now I wasn't totally convinced it was a bird.

Hubby came out, pulled back the shrubbery and found a baby kitteh. Eyes were still closed, ears were not up yet, but it was fuzzy – so about a week old.

No momma kitteh to be found though. After scanning the yard with the flashlight, there she was, about 50 feet away under a tree watching us as if to say, “Hey, look what I did!”.

This was one of several strays in our neighborhood; usually found skulking through our yard, eating baby bunnies and pooing in the daffodils.

Hubby and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing. We'd like another kitteh, and look! Here's a kitteh. Delivered right to our doorstep.

Serendipity kitteh?

There really wasn't anything we could do. The kitten needed mother's milk at this stage, and you shouldn't take them away from their mother til they're at least 4 weeks old. So we went back inside and waited for momma kitteh to come back.

And she did. We checked this morning and both were gone. I'm sure she found another place to hide her little one. Except now we want her to stick around so we can “adopt” baby kitteh.

We put a bowl of kibbles by the hedge in the hope she'll come back (I hate it when people feed strays – but I'm willing to make this one-time exception). However, it's quite possible I'll attract every other cat in the neighborhood, but I'll worry about that later.

Right now I have to shoo a large squirrel away from the bowl.