New Mice Adventures

As you faithful readers will know, I’ve had some troubles with mice before. I’m happy to report that since Jack moved in, there have been blessed few run-ins with the tiny creatures. And then this last week!

Last weekend, Trevor and I were running late (this is pretty much normal operations at my house, both of us enjoying sleeping, and arguing over who has to shower first), and as I came out of the bathroom, I heard Trevor making strange exclamations and grunting sounds. It turns out a mouse had run into the house with Jack, and they were…. playing? According to Trevor, the mouse kept purposely running under the cat, which is very unlike any other mouse I’ve seen. Still in a towel, I wasn’t really in a place to help, but I grabbed the broom and handed it over. Finally getting it in a good position, Trevor did his best Wayne Gretzky impersonation and slapshot the mouse out the open door. The mouse then ambled (ambled!) over to the edge of the deck and disappeared.

This weekend, I was doing a little cleaning (with my three brooms and a roomba, I should really be doing this more often), and I noticed a couple of bumps under the rug in the entry way. Jack has recently discovered the extreme fun of batting bottle caps around, and I’d found several of them under there before, so I lifted and shook out the rug. Two bottle caps came flying out, as well as a dead mouse. I have no idea how long it was under there, though it couldn’t have been long as it didn’t look like it was very decayed. It was, however, pretty flat, which was pretty gross.  It’s bad enough to be dead, but to also be trod upon? Sorry, tiny grey mouse.

Here’s the odd thing: there have been no traces of mouse activity in my kitchen. I’ve been very lazy about my food containment, leaving food out on the counter on a near daily basis, and I haven’t seen a single bite mark or telltale poop. So what have these mice been doing in my apartment? What do you think?

A quick note from my boyfriend

Also, before I forget, this morning while in a rush to leave for work, Jack disappeared for a few minutes into your closet. He emerged, just as I was leaving, wearing one of your bras. He didn’t want to take it off. I threw it back in your closet.

I can’t stop picturing this and laughing.

Small successes with Jack

This morning, on an odd whim, I went on the Great Toy Hunt of 2009. Jack has a ton of toys, and I can’t find a single one. So I got out the trusty wind-up flashlight (courtesy of the best neighbors ever upstairs), and searched. Now, I live in a rather small one-bedroom apartment, with furniture that either rests on the floor, or has a nice gap under it. There’s not a lot of places one* could hide toys. A few weeks ago I found a few things shoved under the shelving unit in the pantry. Now I keep the door closed when I’m not cooking.

Today was very successful! I found all four of Jack’s ping pong balls under the wire shelving in the closet, the only place in the house with a small enough space that little kitten arms can’t really reach. And I’m so glad I found those, because the ping pong balls are Jack’s favorite. He will chase those things around the house for ages, and by himself, and it really tires him out. Which I need to happen, because lately he’s been wanting to play in the middle of the night. When I refuse, he takes the time to slowly and knowingly knock everything in the bedroom over/off where it is. Then he will stand on the dresser and play with the door until I wake up.

I’m so glad I found this site. It makes me a lot more optimistic about a future nighttime when we can all be happy.

* By one, I mean Jack.

Jack’s Big Adventure

Jack’s big adventure, originally uploaded by maceelaine.

So Jack’s had the sniffles for a few days, so it was time to take him to his very first vet visit. I had been meaning to take him in anyway, just to make sure he was normal.
Lacking other transport, I used the cardboard kitty carrier that brought him home to me, six months ago. He more or less completely filled it, and was very not happy crossing the bridge. I had never heard him complain so much!
Arriving in Berkeley (at the wonderful Campus Veterinary!), we discovered that in his excitement, Jack had urinated in the box, and had lost it’s structure, so that got tossed out.
The visit went well. I was sad to hear that my cat has feline herpes, but this is evidently common and nothing to worry about. He’ll just get the sniffles when he’s stressed out. He got some meds, and off we went, in a new cardboard box, courtesy of the vet.
Jack was even less enthusiastic about getting back in a box, and managed to find the weak point in the seam before I even left the office. Thanks to the efforts of about four people, we reinforced the seams and it was time to get home.
About two blocks from the vet, Jack punched a huge hole in the SIDE of the box, nowhere near any of the seams or anything. He began to wander around the car while I panicked. I couldn’t put him back in the box, he’d just escape out the hole again. I had no way of containing him!
To make me even more nervous, he immediately began panting like a dog, which is NOT normal behavior. Luckily, after a cursory investigation of the entire car, Jack found a comfy spot in the backseat and hung out there for the rest of the HOUR LONG drive (of course there was horrible traffic down University, and crossing the bridge, it was Saturday. I felt dumb).
As soon as I got him back inside the apartment, he stopped panting and was acting completely normal. We decided that it was probably a combination of stress and the fact that his nose is all stuffed up.
He’s been pretty good about letting me give him his meds, and he’s already sneezing much less.

But what an exciting day!

Hi Handsome

Hi Handsome, originally uploaded by maceelaine.

I cannot believe how big Jack’s gotten. And how handsome. He’s a pretty awesome cat and I can no longer remember what it was like without him around.

Upon further, further thought…

So I recently sent this email to a special* confidant of mine on December 5th.

So there IS a lot to be stressed out about: I’m 31, and starting to feel like I want to settle down and make a home, and I have a partner who seems to be up in the air about it. Our company just went through a huge merger, and none of us know if our jobs are secure. My left knee has been acting achy lately, and my calves refuse to unclench. Christmas is fast approaching, and I have bought one gift, and I’m not sure what I’m going to be able to afford for those that I love. Then again, like usual, I have NO IDEA what to get ANYONE.

That being said, when I really thing about it, I’m doing pretty well. I’m only a grand in debt, and by the end of the week half of that will be paid off, I’m certainly not living paycheck to paycheck, and though things have been expensive lately, it’s not indicative of what’s to come. I have my job NOW, and I enjoy it, and even if I lose it, I work in an industry that isn’t hit as hard by recession as many others. Sure, my legs are tight, but I’m generally in good health. I have a fantastic family and friends, and a great boyfriend who loves me very much. And, of course, Jack. I can’t even remember what my life was like before him. He crawls under the covers with me in the mornings and curls up in my belly and makes me so happy I want to cry. The good kind of crying.

So maybe I can write off this noodleness as seasonal woes, both holiday and weather related, coupled with bad hormonal timing and a need for some stability.

All in all, I’m okay. And I’m glad that you’re my friend.

Since then:

• We had  a Very Important Meeting at work, and by the end of June, 2/3 of the people in my department will be gone. Luckily, my group was spared (for now), but things are a bit strained here at work. People are upset, and rightly so.
• A week after sending this email, I contracted some sort of stomach bug and proceeded to vomit away a weekend.
• My cat, after spending a wonderful week sleeping at night and being wonderful, is back to up-all-night-and-wanting-to-play.
• General malaise.

And yet, things are looking up for me. I’ve gotten Christmas shopping done, I found some pants that fit that didn’t cost arm and a leg**,  and I have a vacation planned in snowy Colorado shortly after Christmas. And as always, I have excellent friends, am in a stable relationship, and I love my family. So I’m just going to take some deep breaths, smile, and wait for the warmth to return.

* Special as in “near to my heart” not as in “handicapable.”
** Had I spent a leg, my pants would probably be cheaper.

Crazy Cat Lady in Training

I haven’t been writing much lately because all I want to talk about is my cat.  It’s not difficult to understand; he’s loving and soft and fun, and I spend most of my non-working time with him.  He’s almost letting me sleep through the night, though he’s still having problems realizing that just because the alarm went off, I don’t want to immediately play. The Snooze Button concept has definitely not sunk in.

I just posted this to another site, and I thought I’d put it here, as well:

Jack is interested in anything I have to eat, though I don’t give him any. However, I did drop a piece of popcorn recently and he ate it before I could even pick it up. A few days ago, I returned home to find that Jack had gotten into the bag of green beans from my mother’s garden. A few were strewn across the floor, and one was chewed open and all the beans inside gone. At least he’s eating healthy?

My last cat, Obi (RIP) had no interest in people food EXCEPT Eggo waffles. If he heard the toaster he came running.

Vicious Hunter Kitty!

Vicious Hunter Kitty!, originally uploaded by maceelaine.

Behold! My cat, who I worried was never going to be able to jump properly, fulfulled his kitty duties and caught me a mouse. He brought it out here after playing with it in the bathroom, evidently, as there were smears of blood all over the floor, which sent me in a near panic this morning. Not knowing of my living room gift, I frantically searched myself and the cat for injuries. Then I came out to look for more blood, and there it was, laying next to the couch.

One less dick mouse. Yes!

I love my cat. I mean, look at him

Jackface!

A week with Jack

Jack is a sweet kitten, whose only goal in life, if seems, is to give love. In many different ways: cuddling with you, purring louder than a motorcycle, and kissing. At this point, my chin is actually feeling a little dried out, from the amount of licking it has taken. This is both a good and bad thing, as it’s very nice to know that my cat loves me, but is a little difficult to handle at two in the morning.

And here’s the rub. He adores me (and Trevor) so much that he wants to be with us at every hour. And he doesn’t seem to realize that us humans like seven plus hours of sleep a night. He wants to play at three in the morning, so in his brain, WE want to do the same. I’ll say for the record that this is untrue. So it wasn’t until Thursday night that either he calmed down, or I was so exhausted that I just slept through his bedtime shenanigans.

Last night, he decided that Trevor was his favorite and harassed him all night. We’re doing what we can to let Jack know that we love him but also let him know that nighttime is ‘entertain yourself’ time. I’m writing this off right now as a mixture of kittenish energy and excitement of a new home. He is only five months old. He has only been here a week.

On the mouse front: I finally broke down and called my landlord, and he sent his son over to bait under the house. I’m not sure if that got done, but it’s been very quiet in the kitchen. Except that sometimes I hear noises and I run in to see if I can see a mouse, and it’s just the water heater turning on, or a bag falling over. I refer to these as ghost mice. They’re not quite dicks.

EXCEPT that they’re not all ghosts. Last night Trevor and I had Chinese, and when he got up at whatever godly hour he woke up (volunteering here: http://diydays.com/), he finished off the schezuan eggplant and
dumped the rest in the trash. I have a usual policy of no food in the trash, because of the mice, but I’d been a bit more lax about it lately, what with the mice seemingly gone. Later this morning, I heard the tell-tale shuffling sounds of a mouse, and open my trash to see it struggling to stay afloat in about an inch of liquid. It looked so pitiful. I did my normal routine, and just took it and the whole trash bag out to the outside garbage and hoped for the best (or worst, as the case may be). And left Trevor a slightly nasty voice mail about his garbage habits. Really: who wants an inch of liquid at the bottom of a garbage can for more than a week? And yes, I’m so good about recycling and composting that it takes me about two or three weeks to fill a garbage bag.

Excuse me, I’m going to play with my cat and feel superior.

Welcome Home, Jack

For once, he’s not ON the laptop, originally uploaded by maceelaine.

I had looked at other kittens. I was seduced by their cute tiny faces, their pink ears, their tiny meows. But as soon as I picked up Jack, and he stayed perfectly still in my arms, I knew it was love.

It was a total whim to go to Pets In Need. I was heading to Redwood City to hang with my mother, and the shelter was right near the restaurant. So we swung by, not expecting much. The people there are very friendly, the cats healthy and alert. There were some younger cats, but “Simon*” was the one I kept walking past and lingering.

The employees made me a little nervous; they said there was no way to hold a cat, so there was no guarantee that he’d be there tomorrow (when I could actually pick him up). In retrospect, they were just quoting policy, because he had already been there over two months, one more night probably wasn’t going to make a big difference.

And it didn’t. The next day, after hitting Target and getting all the essentials, I went and brought Jack home. He suffered immensely on the way home (though oddly enough, calmed down when a random Tori Amos song came on). But from the minute he got out of his carrier, he was totally at home. I even had people over that night, and he loved it, laying in the middle of everyone, receiving his scratches, playing with all the people.

I will attempt to not write TOO many posts about the wonder that is my cat, but once in a while I simply must. I mean, look at him. He’s the best.

*His pre-adoption name. His official name is now Jack Simon, but really he’s just Jack.