The Cat Front

The Cat Front is a lot like a weather front without the heat, moisture, winds and barometric pressures, and with more paws, claws, fur and teeth. The Cat Front is more similar to the front lines of other challenges, like war, pestilence and disease.

On my Cat Front, our cats have been battling an illness. It’s gone from one to another. It seems like a type of flu. Boo Radley developed it first, refusing to eat for several days, vomiting and hiding out to sleep. I was doing everything to comfort him. This struck on a Thursday. Being a passive person, I tracked him through Friday and into Saturday, confirming, no, he’s not eating. No, he’s not injured anywhere. Yes, something is wrong.

But I kept trying to get him to eat. BR is a big boy so he had the chubbiness to endure a few days without eating. By late Sunday, he finally started up, and was his normal eating fellow by Monday.

I went through the same with Quinn, a small cat, whose diminished caloric intake was much more worrisome. Perhaps because he’s younger, he pulled through faster. Then it struck Tucker. Tucker, though, has a love affair with food ,so despite his sickness, he always attempted to eat. He usually eats about four and a half ounces twice a day. During this sickness, he was below one ounce.

But he, too, was only down for three days (perhaps assisted by a recent antibiotics injection to cope with his gingivitis stomatitis). Pepper, the neighbor’s cat who begs me for food and sleeps on my front porch, went down while Tucker was down. She’s a chunky girl and came back after two days, just a little lighter.

The worse was Meep.

He is the youngest of our ad hoc clowder. Meep is another neighbor’s cat. Strangely, he isn’t permitted into their home, so we take him in to shelter him during cold or poor weather. We ensure he gets fed at least twice a day, and that he has fresh water available. Not surprisingly, he hangs around our house, mostly in the back yard.

There are complications. These are cats. Boo and Meep fight. Boo and Tucker fight. Tucker and Meep fight. Those fights involving Tucker are of the “I am going to eradicate you” variety. The other cats tread warily around him. We’re working on it but meanwhile, separate but equal rules. This segregation is about as satisfying as the SCOTUS ruling regarding education.

Meep went down several days ago. And disappeared. We spent hours searching for him. After two days, he showed up again. Skinny. I tried feeding him. He made a lot of high pitched, growling, “I’m pissed off noises”, accompanied by feline demonstrations that he wasn’t in the mood.

He left, disappearing again. Two more days. The daytime temps dropped from the low nineties into the high seventies, which was a break, and humidity rose, but smoke from wildfires was filling our valley, causing breathing issues, and nocturnal temps descended to the low forties. I thought the worse about Meep and continued my searching.

He reappeared, sleeping in his bed on the back patio Friday. After drinking water and disdaining food, he ran at my approach and became scarce again. He returned last night. This time, I coaxed him into the house. He’d been enduring his illness longer than the others. I figured being outdoors probably contributed to that so I wanted to keep him in. He didn’t want that, but he did drink water. Determined that he needed food, I cradled him and force fed him.

He wasn’t happy. Again he demanded, “Freedom!” Again, I acquiesced. This time, he stayed on the porch overnight.

This morning, he approached our door in his old way. He wasn’t quite ready to eat. I offered food. He licked a little. I offered more. He licked a little. So this continued through the morning, until he finally ate several tablespoons of food on his own. Then he came by me and rubbed against my leg before wandering off to wash and sleep.

It can get tense, on the Cat Front, but I think the worse has passed.

Fungible

Another “Is it just me?” moment struck today.

“Is it just me” that ‘literally’ no longer ‘means’ literally because it was used wrongly often enough that people accept the wrong definition as the correct one? That’s happened to many other words in my lifetime – replete and decimate come to mind. So, I guess, shrug. I should let it go. It’s history now, but , shrug, damn it.

Like, it also bothers me that people, media, and politicians (because pols and media are not people) will publish or state, “The little boy was found wandering alone, by himself, without his family.” I think they’re being a little redundant, but maybe that’s just me.

The classics of these cases still remain (‘still remain’, instead of just ‘remain’) in active use (can there be inactive use?). “At this point in time, we are currently now pursuing a new course of action.” Jesus, there are a couple unnecessary words in that statement. Or, a favorite, “I was just thinking in my head that we should do that.”

Really? You were thinking it in your head? Gosh, good for you. How did you learn to do that? I usually think in my pelvis.

It’s weird to me because I have, to the best of my knowledge (and whose knowledge would I otherwise use, and why would I use anything but the best of my knowledge?) that I’ve thought in my head my entire life. Therefore, it’s understood, and I don’t need to state where I’ve been thinking.

Is it just me or do I have I been wrong all these years? Do I need to clarify which body part was being used for which function? “I was walking, on my feet, to the store the other day….” “That bread was so hard, I was chewing, in my mouth, for literally hours.”

Okay, so my baseline is someone who growls at things like that. The minutiae others employ bothers me in some logic kernel in my brain. Communities building and developing without regard to water supplies triggers, “Is it just me, or is that stupid?” If not stupid, it seems short-sighted. “Is it just me, or is it ignorant,” to blindly allow fracking and pollute our water supplies and cause temblors and quakes? (Hello, Oklahoma and Pennsylvania, I’m smiling at you.)

“Is it just me, or have we put intelligence up our collective asses when we decree that people can’t grow food on their properties because that may adversely affect property values?” Yeah, it’s probably just me. Because, you know (I’m sure you do) food is far less important than property values. If the big one drops (know what I mean?), than we want to have high property values if we’re to survive the aftermath. I know that in many zombie movies, books and television shows, survivors are frequently lamenting, “What are we going to do? These zombies are adversely affecting our property values. If only we’d done more to protect our property values.”

Looking up ‘fungible’ triggered today’s “WTF, it is just me?” outburst. Looking the word up online, Merriam-Webster defines fungible as something that is fungible.

Fungible

I’m sure I’m displaying the full glory of my tree rings when I vent, “My teachers always told me not to use a word to define it.” What a deft (or is that daft?) definition. I now completely understand that fungible means something that is fungible. Very good. Excellent!

I did like the word of the day, though: asperse. Never heard of that. Of course, dubious of M-W’s definition, I looked it up elsewhere.

Venting completed, I will now, at this point in time, write like an insane, crazy maniac, one more time.

 

 

 

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