Today did not start well. I woke up with a headache so bad sunlight felt like lances through my brain, and Steve sounded like he was shouting when he was speaking in a perfectly normal tone of voice. So, back to bed, with help from the feline nursing corps. Managed to sleep most of it off, and finally addressed my email at a Late Hour, to find a note from the ACA stating that they had not received documentation I had compiled and mailed in February, and therefore my health insurance would be cut off in May.
Phone call to the ACA, and the eventual verdict that the paperwork had been received, but hadn’t been processed, yet. Also treated to a mild lecture about how this affliction would not have come upon me if I had just uploaded my paperwork to the ACA website. I did not laugh hysterically, but told her that the reason I’d sent paper was because I couldn’t find where to upload my paperwork on the website. Got tour. Ghod bless them, they do hide it in the basement, don’t they? But, four screens in, yep — there it was. So now I know.
Which of course begs the question of what the manymanymany people in this country who do not have computers or access to a secure computer are supposed to do, if uploading is the New Black, but since I’m clearly not one of them, the question remains unasked.
Steve is making stirfry for dinner, which sounds lovely. Hoping to shake the rest of the headache with a hearty application of chicken and mushrooms, after which I will go to work.
Trooper’s fans will be pleased to know that he went to the vet yesterday for his 2-year distemper shot, wearing the cat harness and leash like, well…a Trooper. Note to self: teach Trooper to walk on the leash, because — While he was at the vet’s he was of course weighed. Ladies and Gentlebeings, we have ourselves seventeen-point-one pounds of Very Solid Coon Cat here.
Sprite weighed 15 pounds when she had her vaccine a couple months back, for a grand total of just over 32 pounds of Feline in two adorable packages.
And! In the I’ve-gotta-get-me-some-of-these front, on Facebook Mindy Hunter pointed out this TED talk on “Shiftables.” Clearly, someone’s been reading Lee and Miller.
Today’s blog post title brought to you by Warren Zevon, “Desperadoes Under the Eaves.”
Sharon: Is it really possible to train an older cat to accept a harness and leash? What harness do you use? I’d like to be able to walk with Aska, but I’m afraid of the blood loss if I try to put on a harness.
I think, like everything else, that it depends on the cat. Archie walked on the cat string. Of course, Archie did a number of dog-like things because he was my first cat after having grown up with dogs. He drew the line at marrow bones, though.
For Trooper (and Sprite; ostensibly, the rig we have was purchased for Sprite, which is why the harness is red, and the leash is sparkly pink), we bought a small dog harness in nylon. One loop goes around the throat, one around the middle, both loops adjustable. I am guilty of leaving room to slid my fingers between the harness and the cat, because the exercise isn’t about strangling the cat. I have, however, seen cats squirm out of even firmly tightened harnesses. See above, depends on, cat.
The reason we got harness and leash this time is because both Trooper and Sprite hatehatehateHATE traveling in the box. They are perfectly happy to take a ride in the car, sitting on my lap, though. So, the harness and leash is the failsafe, in case somebody takes it into their head to jump out of my arms on the way down the stairs. So far, no one has.
I am reminded of an amusing scene I witnessed one morning some years ago, of a cat wearing a harness and leash, exercising her human. The human had somehow lost hold of the leash, and the cat was trotting happily along the street, nowhere near her top speed, just fast enough to keep the end of the leash about a foot ahead of the pursuing human.
I just hauled my two guys to the vet — 17.8 and 18 pounds, and not even Coon cats. The vet didn’t mention their weight, but hubby thinks they need to eat less; me, I’m not good at resisting the hungry noises.
The vet thinks Trooper’s right where he ought to be, weight-wise. She was inclined to be of the opinion that his Show Weight was too lean.
I’ve never had a cat who was so. . .solid. It’s like picking up a brick; there’s no squish there at all.
He’s built for the savannah, this one.