Snow and the Treed Cat

We’ve had some unusually cold weather in Chattanooga lately. Yesterday the NWS scored an equally unusually accurate snow forecast, albeit we only got an inch or less. Combined with the cold temperatures, overnight slight thawing from the day combined with 15° f. to make roads in our woodsy, hilly neighborhood more exciting than we like. An hour after the sun came up, I ventured out to drive my good wife to her work.

On my return, I resumed efforts begun yesterday to convince one of our cats

This is YOUR fault.

that perching thirty feet up in a tree and meowing piteously was not in his best interest. The days when I was physically able to climb thirty feet up in a tree are long gone. I have no extension ladder of any kind, much less a thirty footer, and probably am not able to handle one anyway.

I just took a bowl of food to the foot of the tree, even heated the wet food for the smell, hoping that hunger added to cold and fatigue will prompt the silly cat to come down. This morning I briefly contemplated using a shotgun loaded with bird shot to reason with the cat, but was overruled. Good thing, I expect.

I like animals, but…..

More Cats

The departure of two of our three cats a couple of weeks ago threw Babs into a depressed state, for she does love her animals. Amos died of a stubborn infection, and Chelsea fled from the Vet’s parking lot on the way to be vaccinated. Going from three cats to one was a wrenching blow. So, after discussion, this past Thursday afternoon three cats arrived from the McKamey Animal Center. A year old formerly male gray tabby, and two kittens, one calico and one male gray tabby. Babs is happy, I am busy as a, well, cat herder, and the grandchildren’s delight knows no bounds. The grandchildren named the two kittens, Georgia is the calico’s name and the little tabby is Jackson. The big Tabby retains his shelter name, Carter. Good, sturdy Southern names, all of them.

Introducing, Jackson, with Carter:

Buddies

And, Miss Georgia:

The color-coordinated cat.

The Ailing Amos

People tend to outlive all their pets but the last one.

Today, our ten-year old cat named Amos went to the vets, very thin and weak. We feared the worst. After some tests, it may be that the only problem is that he is very undernourished. Amos recently went on a walkabout for a week or ten days, finally showing back up very thin. Barbara thinks he may have been shut up someplace.

Andy, Chelsea, Amos

The vet is keeping him overnight, after ruling out feline leukemia or kidney problems. Liver functions are consistent with too little to eat. Amos also has an upper respiratory infection that makes him unable to smell efficiently. Cats that cannot smell usually won’t eat. An overnight visit with the vets, big antibiotics and careful monitoring of food and water intake will tell us more by tomorrow afternoon.

The picture here, right to left, is of Amos, the very black cat, Chelsea, the gray and white middle cat, and Andy on the left, striped tabby reddish orange. Andy decamped a year ago over alpha animal issues with Lucy the Wonder Dog, a mixed breed rescue. We see Andy at a distance once in a while. He is quite well nourished, but avoids us completely. Cats are imperfectly domesticated, and totally dedicated to having their own way. If Andy gets sick, he might come back, but only on his terms, I suspect.

We are hopeful of Amos’s recovery and peaceful coexistence with Lucy.