MAR 02

2024

Friday: Julie made eggs, toast, and sausage for brunch today. Meanwhile, I was still pretty wiped out from my late nights, so I didn't have time for any distractions before my shift at work. I spent the entire shift handling support requests, barely making any progress on my projects, but at least it went by quickly. Afterwards, I did a quick spot-vacuum and prepped the vegetables for dinner. Tonight I prepared the lemon-cream orzo again, this time keeping my pecans and almonds and scallions separate from the main dish so that Julie can add her pepper flakes, while I add my own toasted toppings. My preparations paid off: the meal had excellent flavor and texture. We watched the new episode of Ghosts before switching to Abbott Elementary, but I started to snooze as the evening wore on. I did manage to wake up enough once the shows were over to continue watching Preach's FFXIV playthrough as he made the transition into Heavensward.

I had the thought that I should periodically provide a detailed cat update, and for no reason in particular, I wanted to do it on the first Saturday in March. Since I haven't done this before, I'm talking about all the cats we've had, so consider this a warning that I'm also remembering why some of them aren't with us, anymore:

Cliff is doing well, though he constantly wants either treats or the new food we've purchased for him. He's acclimated to living with the rest of the cats pretty well, as they all leave each other alone, for the most part. If we're in the living room, he's either parked on the rug beside the coffee table or he's curled up at the top of the tower; when I'm working in the office, he has a nook where he prefers to sleep on a cushioned clam-shell cat bed tucked behind the table where I keep my personal laptop.

Grey Goose is the biggest cat in the apartment, and she's not afraid to throw her weight around, by which I mean she's not afraid to tangle with Mim: if they both show up when I go into the bathroom, they'll swat at each other through the doorway. When she was a kitten, she used to flee the approach of any human while hissing and spitting, but she's now one of the cats that spends the most time around me while I'm working, whether it be curled up on the pillowcase on my desk or stretched out on my lap when I put my feet up. She has the squeakiest little voice I've ever heard.

Orange Juice is Grey Goose's "little" sister, though she's still the second-largest cat in the apartment. We managed to extract her from the car's undercarriage a day before we got Goose out, so we think the extra day without nursing is the only reason she didn't win that competition. This may also be the reason she loves to knead and suckle on my fuzzy black floor pillow; she really wants me to be sitting beside her while she does it, so any time I walk into the living room, she wants me to hang out on the floor. When Julie's working from home, though, she spends most of her time napping on top of her on the sofa. We figured she'd be a male since she's an orange tabby, but apparently not. She does seem to have something of a fascination with John, as she would often follow him around or try to curl up wherever he is, though he tolerates her at most.

Mim is the nickname we gave to Mama, who started out as a feral cat with six kittens stowed behind my great aunt's house while we were living there. We worked with Friends of Felines to get Mim and her progeny trapped and brought indoors, and once we were able to wean them, they all got fixed and vaxxed and adopted out, though we kept Mim for ourselves. Since she'd been feral, she had a habit of biting that made her dangerous and likely not to be adoptable, but we've mostly broken her of that habit. She and John do not tolerate one another, though since John's gotten old, he's no longer the aggressor in those interactions. Her territory is usually the bedroom, though she's gained enough confidence to go into the kitchen or come out to the living room on her own. Even though she is the most dangerous of our cats, she's also the cuddliest, and it's a rare night that I don't fall asleep in bed with her tucked into the crook of my elbow or curled up on my hand.

Mosaic (or Mo) was an outdoor cat that we rescued years ago when her primary caretaker got evicted from the apartment below ours. She was standoffish and threatening in ways similar to Mim, but thanks to her history with other humans, she got attached to me much more quickly. She would usually stay in our office or living room, especially since she eventually lost the use of her back legs, and so she preferred to lay on a heating pad on the end of the sofa, where I'd be leaning on my floor pillow next to her; that way, she could reach out and put her claws in my scalp or headbutt me if she wanted attention. She was having issues with her digestive and urinary systems, so we spared her more difficulty in the spring of 2022.

Pigs is the nickname we use for Isabel becasue of the way she would hog the food when we first got her, though with her coloration, she more closely resembles a cow: she's black and white, with a little Charlie Chaplin mustache. While she'll sometimes take advantage of opportunities for affection or play, she's our most stand-offish cat, preferring to lay on the Mo's old heating pad on the bed in the office. Unlike every other cat in the office, she has no interest in cat treats, possibly since she has the most sensitive digestion in the apartment; though it's not a common occurrence, she does throw up more than anybody else. Sometimes she gets riled up when Juice trots into her immediate vicinity.

Frank was our hairless sphynx. We got him on January 1st and lost him on January 1st (some years later). We tried to keep him warm with environmental controls and heating pads and blankets galore; he'd often bundle himself in any loose fabric he found. He was easy to travel with and charismatic. He loved to be held and would burrow into your clothes while you were wearing them, if he felt it was too cold out. He and John got along better than most of the cats we've had. Unfortunately, his breed is prone to congestive heart failure, which lead to his declining quality of life and eventual veterinary intervention.

John (short for John Doe) may have originally been an abandoned cat, but he's one of a couple that have been with us the longest. He's still an athletic leaper, but age is finally catching up with him; he looks frail. It doesn't help that he's a picky eater and drinker, preferring only the freshest food, or only cat treats sometimes, or only water from the sink or shower walls. He's developed a routine when he wants something of bringing me to his water station or the bathroom or the kitchen, though he has to stop by the front door first, because that's "his" area. Once I've followed him there and shown him that I'm still paying attention, then he'll lead me to whatever it is that he wants. Lately he's been spending a lot of time curled up in our black fabric shopping bags in front of the heating vent.

Koop is short for Koopa Troopa; we'd been playing a lot of Mario Kart when Julie found her at a Jiffy Lube, and she had a way of lunging out from under carpets and other obstructions in a way that felt familiar to what we'd been experiencing in that game. She's the only remaining cat showing her age more than John has been, but she's as irascible as ever. She's been burrowing under blankets almost more than Frank used to lately. She doesn't really get along with any of the other cats: she'll share space on the bed with Mim as long as neither one gets too close to the other, and she gets along alright with John insofar as neither one hisses at the other (but they also don't otherwise interact), but she would probably prefer to be the only cat in the residence. I guess it's too bad for her that she ended up with us, in that sense.

Gus was far too brief of a resident. Neither we nor his prior owners knew he had feline diabetes. He was a big softie with horrifying bowel movements, which is why Cliff reminds me so much of him.

Angel was Julie's first cat that she adopted in Wichita before we met. She was affectionate and playful and if you gave her the kind of attention she wanted, she'd lay on top of you and drool, which was both sweet and disgusting. We've never had a cat who got so much joy out of car rides. She was with us for many years, but some time after we'd had Frank for a while, we found out she had brain tumors. I think we managed to spare her from any suffering.

2023

Thursday: continuing with the Sanderson videos from yesterday, though I also managed to catch a stuttering stream of a Disco Elysium playthrough. Should be able to finish my salad for dinner. I want to wrap up my in-progress meetup game this weekend, hopefully. (After posting this update, I noticed that a project team I'm on had an update, so I wound up focused on that instead.)