Archive for the ‘their feline majesties’ Tag
Today and tomorrow, I de-cat the apartment. Everything but the personal memorabilia’s going — I’m giving the remaining food and unused litter to a friend at work, throwing out everything else, and keeping their collars with my other family mementos.
I was actually feeling pretty good about it, and starting to cheer up a little, when I realized, while slicing cheese for my hotdogs, that I had automatically cut a piece for Random and was surprised that he wasn’t there at my feet, sitting up in anticipation.
April 30, 1992 – January 4, 2008
I have just returned from the vet’s, where I had had Random put to sleep. He had suffered massive kidney failure. I petted him until he was gone.
He had been with me since 1992, when I took him home from OVFF. Random was found as a stray, and they were looking for a home for him. and I were still dating then; I walked into the con suite to find her for the drive back to Bowling Green, and there she was with this big orange cat in her arms.
My first thought was, Great. We already have three cats in the apartment!
She handed him to me.
He had a purr like an Evinrude outboard motor.
And the first words out of my mouth were, “I guess I need a name for my cat.”
To my fellow fen in the room, this was the same as saying, “I guess we need to form an ad hoc cat-naming committee.” The first suggestion was Amber, because of his bright orange color. This was nixed because the cat was definitely male.
Off to my side, I hear, “Amber… Amber… Amber… ‘Nine Princes in Amber’ — Prince Random was a redhead!”
Couldn’t ask for a better name.
Rule Number One: Never give a cat a name he can live up to.
He had been with me for, well, more than a third of my life now.
I’m going to miss him lots.
Rather than go through and reply individually, let me just thank everyone for your kind words.
I’m still a little rattled from Friday. I found out Mavis was dead the hard way: I thought she was asleep on the couch and went to pet her and she was cold. The vet up the street has a cremation service. I won’t be getting the ashes back, but I kept her collar of course. Random (who is a year older) has been extra-clingy—not surprising. He seems to have realized that she’s not around anywhere.
Never let anyone tell you that animals don’t mourn.
I got Mavis around Halloween of 1993; some friends were trying to farm out a litter of kittens, and I was the first person Mavis approached on her own. Every time anyone else came over, she hid. Me, she came out and draped herself over my shoe, and I got her on the provision that I not change her name–she had already been tagged with ‘Mavis’.
It seemed to suit her.
I was a little concerned that Random wouldn’t take to having a new kitten around, although he had taken well to ‘s cat. Random, as it turned out, immediately adopted this little kitten as his baby sister and she took to Random like her big brother and the two of them were usually found curled up around each other, bright orange and jet black, sleeping happily.
She wasn’t a ‘people cat’, not like Random, who views every hand as an opportunity to pet him. She first had to decide that you weren’t an axe murderer, which she was convinced everyone but me was. The first time came to visit me, before he moved here, she bolted for the bedroom. When I went to pick her up, she went buzz-saw on my hand, and I went back out into the living room, hand bloodied, to announce to my wide-eyed friend that Her Ladyship was not currently granting audiences.
An hour and a half later, she was curled up in his lap, sound asleep. She was a lap cat, once she finally decided your lap was safe.
Yeah, I’m going to miss her lots.
Meanwhile, my car mysteriously decided to start working yesterday, after my mechanic showed up to look at it. Oy.
The younger of my two cats, Mavis, passed away sometime earlier today. I had just gotten up, called my sister (who had called me to tell me that my dad’s heart procedure went off without a hitch–just a mild shock to put it back in rhythm), and went out into the living room/kitchen area to feed the cats.
Mavis was stretched out on the couch like she was asleep; if anything, she died the same way as my paternal grandmother and maternal grandfather — she just sort of switched off. She seemed fine last night; apparently, it was just her time.
She was about 14½ — I never knew exactly when she was born, we usually marked it at the end of July. I’ve had her since Halloween of 1993. Random is being unusually clingy today, not that I find that surprising.
And just to top things off, the car conked out at the vet’s where I left her body, and had to be towed home.
I have had better days.
Playing with my new camera, I got images of Their Imperial Majesties that really needed to be made into icons. So here’s Random:
And here’s Mavis:
Share and enjoy (and credit where credit is due!)
gave me the letter “C“, and my job is to present ten things starting with C that I love, and thenyou all can request a letter too.
- Cousins… and siblings and parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and especially my nieces… the whole famn damily.
- Cats, of which I have two: Random and Mavis.
- Chords, of the musical kind, whether listening or playing–insert all the bands I love here, otherwise I’ll go way over ten, but particular mention to the Grateful Dead… :)
- Cambot and Crow T. Robot and Bill Corbett and Frank Coniff, to say nothing of Tom Servo, Gypsy, Magic Voice, Mike, Joel, Trace, Kevin, Jim, Mary Jo, Patrick, and Paul (and juliewa and barbbb). MST3K is still the best comedy ever put on TV.
- Chris Eccleston and Colin Baker and all the other Doctors and Companions (Compania?)
- Computer. Duh. :)
- Columbus, as I love the hell out of my adopted home town.
- Cosmology and Cosmos, as I love the astrosciences.
- Coins, which I collect, and
- Courses, specifically of the golf and minigolf variety.
Next? No bizarre letters, I promise!
EDIT: Augh! I ran out of room for Cameras (specifically my Minolta XG1–film still beats binary), Cooking, the Caves of Steel and damn near everything else Asimov ever wrote, Roger Corman and the other masters of the B- (and Z-) movie, cable stitch and knitting in general… augh!
Sheesh. I have had no time to prepare for OVFF, my work schedule has been so screwy. However, I’m ready. I have the room reserved–and great thanks to the Clarion Dublin staffer who, when I walked in there Friday afternoon after getting off work, let me have it for the convention rate even though I was way, waaaaaaaaaaaay late in making my reservation.
So anyway, no, I haven’t been able to practice much (or at all), so I don’t know how much I’ll actually play this weekend. I’ll bring Sergei (the theremin) and Phil (the bass), and the acoustic. I’m toying with briefly bringing Random to celebrate the 13 years since I got him in the con suite at OVFF in 1992.
I’m also thinking about bringing Elly (my telescope–so named for Elly Kedward, the Blair Witch, because she makes me go out into dark creepy places far from civilization :)) because this weekend will be a tremendously close approach of Mars–not as good as last year, but about as good as it’s gonna get for the next 60,000 years, and what the hell, it’s something I can do for my fellow conventioneers if my chops are off. If the seeing’s good, my ‘scope has just enough resolution to make out the Martian ice cap, at least if Mars is tilted just right.
I figure what the hell, there’s a lot of space fen among filkers, there might be some interest in an informal tour of the night sky as a brief break from the music making. :)
Okay, those who have met my cat Random know he’s aptly named.
So, I was heading into the bathroom.
Brief tangent: what the hell is it about cats insisting on being in the can with people? Back when ataniell93 and I were still married, the catbox was in the bathroom for lack of anywhere else to put it, and Tiss (the feline that owns her) would do the same thing, frequently indulging in what Kiri called a “solidarity whiz”. Random just liked to tag along; he wasn’t much on the solidarity thing, he just liked hanging out in the privy. But I figured it had something to do with the catbox anyway.
Now, I haven’t lived at that place since ’01, and the catbox is not in the bathroom, but Random insists on following me in and at least observing. Sometimes from behind the toilet, sometimes over my shoulder from the sink. And purring his damnfool head off.
End tangent. I’m heading into the can. Random darts in with me. I look down at him and say, “Random, you are a deeply weird cat.”
As God is my witness, he meowed “uh-huh.” Came out more like “rr-hrr”, but I swear to God he did it!
He is a deeply weird cat … just deeper than I thought.
And I just realized the tangent was longer than the rest of this post.