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  • a happy, ordinary, middle-aged, suburban woman who paints odd pictures, gardens in a straw hat, lives with the love of her life, is owned by one cat and the ghosts of several others, and walks a little funny 'cause she has a fake leg. She started this website because there's more to life than what we lose, and we need to let each other know what's possible, even if it's only a happy, ordinary life.

November 2011

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Good reads, grownups only

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Catgirl says, "Good kitty!"
meow... :)


Hai. IR takin Oprah's drugz.
I feelz good.


Jana -- I can't believe I forgot to talk about the mice. Catgirl did ask about them, but this is Interruption Week here at Moving Right Along (and it's a long week, and it will last until 1/2/08), so my concentration is a bit more fragmented than usual.

But anyway, the house mice don't come out to play with Sam anymore. Every night he asks me, "When, Female Servant? When will they come back? They were lots of fun, and I miss them."

And I have no answer for him. I am just pleased not to see him walking into the bedroom with a whole, living mouse butt hanging out of his mouth (and no, it wouldn't be better if the mouse butt were in pieces or dead).

Your Majesty -- Oprah takes atenolol? I had no idea. I learn SO MUCH from blogging.

I wonder if she also gets "atenolol treats," which are what the Angell vet sent home with Sam. These were little meat-flavored morsels pre-packed with pills. I wonder what flavor Oprah likes.


Luna and Stella are so happy to hear the good news! They're showing their glee by sleeping as closely to the space heater as possible (just like Sam would if he were here I'm sure). Aren't they sweet?


hee hee -- very moving show of international housepet solidarity :)

Sam is in fact napping in my studio chair, which is not only next to a heater and under an antique lamp but in the direct path of the sun as it moves from east to west from early morning to mid-afternoon. Napping is one of his primary duties, and he has grasped the nuances of how best to accomplish it in this household with quite the level of finesse.

Ron Sullivan

Matt the Cat is napping in solidarity too, um, somewhere around here. Oh yeah, on the bed and my bathrobe. Oh well, I didn't need all that oxygen anyway.

I'm glad to hear Sam's feeling better. Good kitty!


Very good kitty. And I love how you write about him. The voice you give him certainly matches the expressions on his face. Wishing you all (furry and less so) a very happy and healthy 2008.


Ron -- So what do you think the name of their union is, the International Littermatehood of Sleep Workers? Or -- dare I say it, ironically hoping it doesn't infringe copyright -- The Napsters?

Laurie -- I always quote Sam directly, of course. ;) Thank you for your kind thoughts, and here's wishing you and your loved ones (the furry and the less so there, too) a fabulous year as well.


Hooray! So glad he is responding to the TLC so well. He made the right decision when he let you take him in.


I'm glad he's taken a turn for the better :)

He did well in adopting you.


Luna and Stella! My old love-dog Stella's full name is Stellaluna. She loves kitties and is happy to hear that Sam is doing well. Ruby's happy about it too, but she mostly likes to chase kitties. Except for that one fuzzy dreamsicle colored kitty down the street who won't run when we approach. Ruby's a little afraid of that one, as she's been popped in the face a couple of times when she gets too close. Smart kitty.


I am glad that Sam is well and recovering/recovered. I have been dreaming of kittens, longing for kittens; even with the no pet rule I want to see if I can convince my penal guard landlady that a cat is an assistive animal that guides me places ( the can opener).


hee -- Elizabeth, I think (or, OK, maybe I just wish) that a kitten could, by simply staring at you, cause you to get up and get the damn can opener, open the can, AND put the bowl in the proper place & do a little dance -- all without waking you up from your nap. Kittens are very powerful. Assistance? Yeah, maybe. I think it's really just plain old mind control.


Sorry, my dears, I took a little break from the computer except that every time I walked by and saw that I had a comment waiting to be approved, I approved it. :) I do appreciate all the good wishes. I'm sure Sam just accepts them as his due. He is a cat, after all. Very few of them, even sickly street cats (or maybe especially), celebrate humility.

BLC and Amorette: Just for the record, it is not me whom Sammy chose but my true love. It is my true love to whom he chose to reveal himself (noisily), from my true love that he consented to accept tuna out of a can, it was my true love that he followed around to all the houses to find out whose kitty he might be, it was my true love who was finally allowed to lure him inside, and it is absolutely obvious that though he considers my services adequate and my affection not unpleasant most of the time, my true love is his true love. I am the one who cooks for him (them), cleans the litter box most of the time, opens most of the cans, cleans the dishes, gets up for him when he comes for breakfast, and does horrible needful things like take him to the vet, but I am not the one he chose, and I am not the one he loves.

Considering that it is my true love who has a job and a steady income, and thus it is he who has popped for all this medical treatment (which has cost more than twice our current monthly rent so far), he who pays for the all-natural, organic cat food and the organic, free-range chicken livers I cook up, he who has paid for all the toys and the all-natural flushable grain-based litter plus the litter box and scoop, the $90 Sherpa carrier, the $50 recycled-bottle-filled floor bed, the $20 fleece-lined donut nest, etc., etc., mostly because I asked him to but often on his own initiative, I think this choice shows remarkable discernment on the part of this cat. It is important to know who's really filling the bowl, you know?

Alphabitch, yes! Sognatrice's beautiful doggies are named Luna (the elder) and Stella (the younger, and recent mother of many, many puppies).

Elizabeth, you know I don't know about cats, but in the U.S. you can get a service dog for no other reason than simply to keep you calm and by law people are required to allow you to bring him/her with you everywhere, even in grocery stores and restaurants. I don't know what the rules are in Canada, but here are two entries about this from esteemed correspondent Jeanne at The Assertive Cancer Patient:

Cancer Dog

Want a Service Dog of Your Very Own?

Alphabitch, wouldn't that be great if it were true? I think determining whether or not this is true, or to what extent, might be an excellent subject for a research grant, don't you? It would have to be a really, really long-term study, too, 'cause you'd have to find out things like whether a kitten is more powerful against deterioration of the autonomic nervous system than a full-grown cat, whether two kitties are stronger than one alone, etc., etc., and of course you couldn't expect instantaneous results.

Of course, if we wangled Elizabeth into the companionship (for science!) of too many little kitties, Linda might hate us and wish us dead, especially if it didn't work and she ended up having to do all the caretaking of who knows how many demanding little fuzzballs underfoot.

It's good to know the risks going in.

Lady Bracknell's Editor

I'm late catching up. I am rubbish.

This is very good news, though.

Where can I get an OH who funds everything cat-related? Has yours got a brother?


You are not rubbish. Never.

My true love and I met in a bookstore café. Bookstores are very good places to find all sorts of things, I've found. He has half-siblings of an unknown assortment floating around, but is unacquainted with them.

It should be noted that this is the first time ever that either of us just happened to have this amount of money lying around. My true love and I have been together nearly thirteen years and have seen other kitties through this and other hideous medical treatments, and usually we have had to beg and plead and make monthly payments, sometimes for years afterward, sometimes even after the kitty in question had expired. This new circumstance of actually being able to afford all these things is sort of refreshing, but also sort of dizzying -- and not guaranteed to last. (sigh)

I think Sam chose both his patron and his moment most cleverly. Here's hoping one of us can always afford whatever he needs.

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