If anyone had ever told me... (a series)

If anyone had ever told me 20 years ago that I would end up living with and loving three adorable cats, I would never have believed them.

But here I am, with three little fur buddies, and I love them all, and wouldn't part with them.

How the heck did this happen? 

 Well, before I get to that, why would it have seemed so unlikely to me 20 years ago?

 First and foremost, while my family had two different dogs when I was a kid (a Beagle and a Brittany many years apart), we never had cats, and I honestly can't remember any friends who had cats either.  So, they were pretty much an unknown to me until my teen years, when my older sister Nancy had a couple of cats.  I spent a lot of time at her house, because her then-husband Phil and I had launched a kite making company, and I would go over and work on kites with him whenever I could.

The good news here is that I got to spend some time with her two cats.  The bad news is, that even by my sister's recollection, one of them was, well, let's politely say "unpredictable."  My most vivid memory of Maggie was the day she was calmly perched on a table in the kite workroom, and I was petting her and she happily enjoyed it... for a time.  Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she erupted and I found myself with an angry ball of fur running up one arm, over my head, and down the other side of me, claws fully extending and uttering sounds of fury.  I didn't realize it at the time, but apparently my sister's German Shepherd had just appeared, and Maggie hadn't met him and freaked out.  To me, it seemed utterly unprovoked, and I never realized the dog was part of it until just a few years ago.

So, for many, many years, I was at best indifferent to cats, and certainly never imagined having any in my home.  Now and then I'd encounter one, but never one that in any way changed my thinking about cats.  Until my brother moved back from California just before my last year of college, and I got to know his little Manx, Savannah.  At first, we didn't really have much to do with each other, but at one point, I don't recall exactly why, I ended up taking care of her while Stephen was away for a week or so.  During that time, she became much friendlier toward me (the cynic in me said it was because I was the can opener), and even started to sleep in my bed at night.  The biggest downside to that was that she seemed fond of sleeping on my head, which isn't really something I'd recommend.  Anyway, I credit Savannah with the first chink in my anti-cat armor.

Savannah, around 1983, on my desk.

Fast forward to the early 2000s, when I started dating a woman with a cat named Tomas.  Now, I don't think even his human would claim Tomas was the rocket scientist of the cat world, but he couldn't have been a sweeter little guy.  Again, I was called upon for cat care a few times, and he and I gradually became pals.  Once Annie and I decided to move in together, we started discussing finding a sidekick for Tomas.  This lead to finding the wonderful Tybalt in a shelter, who from the start was meant to be my cat.  That little fellow really opened my eyes and my heart to cats, and gave me 16 wonderful years before he died in 2021.  (You can read more about him here.)

Tybalt in 2020, at the age of 15 or so.

Now, that explains how I came to have A cat, but not three.  When Tybalt was middle aged, I was busy transitioning to owning a bicycle shop, and also spending a lot of time over in Maryland with a woman I was seeing at the time.  At some point, with Christy's urging, I started thinking about a buddy for Tybalt.  On a visit to a shelter, seeking parakeets (for Christy), we met a little tabby that had just been captured that Christmas Eve, and had been named Tiny Tim as a result.  When let out of his cage to meet us, he strutted around like he owned the place.  He quickly won my heart, and after a prolonged delay and drama due to his contracting a respiratory infection in the shelter, he was renamed Jinx and finally came home to join Tybalt in my apartment.

Jinx at 4, in his classic Krazy Kitty Mode, 2017.

Jinx at 5, in a more mellow moment, 2018.

The two of them seemed to get along fine, though Jinx was a bit more boisterous than Tybalt liked sometimes, and in particular he seemed to like harassing Tybalt at the litter box, which lead to some issues for a while.  Still, over time they seemed to co-exist very well, and while they didn't sleep together or play a lot, they would groom each other and hang out nearby.

I only learned just how attached they'd apparently grown when Tybalt died in 2021, and Jinx suddenly developed a "barbering" (over-grooming) habit.  I missed Tybalt tremendously, but Jinx was always there for a cuddle, and he and I grew closer. By a coincidence, one of my employees at the bike shop had a young black cat that wasn't fitting in well with their older cat, so it was suggested I take Zero on as a pal for Jinx.  So, as of autumn of 2021, Jinx and Zero had really hit it off and I'd settled back into a two cat household.

Zero in an improvised cat bed on my desk, 2022.

And then I took my annual trip to a cabin at a state park in Pennsylvania, just after Thanksgiving, 2022.  If you follow this blog, you'll know what happened next, as that was the one post I shared in early 2023.  Yep, I found a cat at the cabin, and not for the first time either.  The first time it was a sweet girl cat with a collar and tags that I reunited with her humans after a six month separation.  The second, in 2022, well, he had no tags, no chip, no known humans or backstory, so he came home with me.  I named him Chester Proudpaw, making my little family a feline trio.

Chester in December 2023, a year after he came home with me.

So now, with three cats in a one bedroom apartment, I think I am officially a "cat person", something I never would have imagined years ago.  And something I wouldn't trade for the world.  Each of my cats has been a truly unique personality, something I wouldn't have guessed from my early experiences with cats.  

Tybalt was utterly attached and devoted to me, happily curling up in my lap or next to me at every opportunity and rarely letting me out of sight if I was home.  But he was very shy and skittish around strangers, and took a long time to warm up to people.  When I had to be out of town and someone else took care of him, more often than not, they'd get barely a glimpse of him at best, and often the only evidence he was around was that the food would be eaten and the litter box used.

Jinx was a lot more independent, especially when young, and lap time with him always felt a bit like a "drive by" situation.  That being said, from the very start, that guy has always given the best cat hugs, where he'll wrap his front paws around my neck and just hold on.  As he's gotten older, and especially after Tybs died, he's settled down a lot and is much more inclined to linger with me.  And while his "barbering" appears to be a thing of the past, he still enjoys grooming me, licking my beard and rubbing his face all over it, as well as grooming the other cats.

Zero is still pretty young, around four now I guess so he's still a bit more in the "drive by" mode affection-wise.  But with time, he's definitely come around to me being his human and the other guys as his pack, and he loves having other cats to wrestle and chase around and play with.  He's also one of the best and enthusiastic "biscuit makers" of any cat I've met.  The intensity with which he stares at me while kneading me is pretty entertaining.

And then there's Chester.  He reminds me a LOT of Tybalt, in markings, size and personality.  Thanks to the nights in the cabin, and bringing him to safety, he's quite bonded to me.  There were also a couple of weeks where I spent nights sleeping in my bike shop with him, while waiting for him to be checked out and then neutered by the vet before bringing him home to meet the others.  The big difference between him and Tybalt though is that Chester is not really shy or skittish around others, and generally loves attention.  He now comes to the shop with me often, when we are in the slower season and we keep all the doors closed except for customers and bikes going in and out.  He doesn't show any signs of interest in getting out, but we are all very attentive when ever he's in the shop to prevent any mishaps.  He's also become a bit of a local celebrity, named "Mayor's Pet of the Month" in the town newsletter last spring, and featured in a community service award the shop received last year.

Bikes@Vienna's 2023 Carole Wolfand Community Service award, featuring Chester.

So, here I am in my early 60s, with three cats, and loving it.

Chester, Zero, and Jinx, aka the Gang of Three, January 2024.

My new cat buddy - Chester!

Chester, napping in his heated cat bed at the shop.  He likes his new life!

Chester joined my household and the crew at BIKES@VIENNA just after Thanksgiving of 2022, and most days we're open, you'll find him here, at least until we get to the season where we keep the doors wide open.

So, how did the little guy come to me?  Well, that's an interesting story.  On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, I drove up to Ohiopyle State Park in Pennsylvania, to stay in one of their cabins.  It's become something of a regular thing for me, a nice escape during the slow season, with simple, comfortable cabins and very few people around.  Plus, the park is convenient to the Great Allegheny Passage trail, Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater, the town of Ohiopyle, and lots of good hiking as well.

First sighting!

Monday morning I was sitting on the porch of my cabin, sipping some hot coffee, when I suddenly saw a small, grey shape hop up onto the picnic table at the next cabin.  At first I thought it might be a raccoon, but quickly figured out it was a small tabby cat!  There were no other people in that part of the campground, which is the "pet friendly" area, so I knew he didn't belong to a current camper. Eventually, he vanished around the far side of the other cabin. 

At the edge of my porch.

I soon decided I couldn't just ignore him, so I opened up a can of tuna and put it in a bowl and set it by the porch of the other cabin.  I returned to my cabin, and waited.  Sure enough, he eventually came out of hiding, and started eating, now and then stealing glances my way.  Over the next couple of days, I kept putting out tuna, and gradually moved it closer and closer to my cabin, and then onto my porch.  

Wednesday came, and it was a cold, wet morning, and no sign of my furry friend.  I waited until around noon, and then decided I'd get ready for a hike, as the weather was clearing.  Just as I was all packed up and ready to go, there he was, at the edge of my porch, eating the tuna.

Crossing the threshold.

The next two hours were all about refilling the dish, gradually moving it closer and closer to the open door of my cabin.  I stayed inside, sitting on the floor, watching him.  Ultimately, I brought it inside the cabin and waited.  He was cautious, but did eventually come in and eat, while I kept my distance.  Once he got to where he started to look around the cabin a bit, I quietly went to the door and closed it.

In the top bunk.

His first reaction was to run to each of the windows to look outside, then racing up to one of the top bunks, where he just lay down looking very unsure.  He stayed there a good long while, so I went to the park office to find out if they had any missing cat reports.

Now, at this point, I have to add an interesting twist to the story - exactly one year earlier, at the same park, in the same group of cabins, another cat appeared.  So this wasn't my first experience with luring a cat into a cabin with tuna.  That cat had a collar and tag, so I was able to reunite her with her family, who drove all the way up from Lynchburg, VA, the moment they got word their Brigita had been found.  She'd gone missing on a camping trip Memorial Day weekend, so the dear little girl had been out there for six months!  I was so glad to be able to reunite them.

Brigita at my cabin in 2021.

So, when I went to the park office, I explained that I was "the guy that found the cat last year" and we chatted briefly about Brigita.  I then told them I had yet another cat in my cabin, and they were understandably surprised and amused.  They checked for missing cat reports, and came up with nothing, so I asked if they knew where I could take this cat to get scanned for an ID chip.  Well, it turns out the park has a scanner, which they loaned me as I headed to a store to get cat food, a litter box, and litter.

When I got back to the cabin, he was tucked into a far corner, where I couldn't easily get to him, and meowed sadly now and then.  He came out for food, but then returned to his corner. Since I couldn't get him to come out of his hidey-hole, I finally went to bed after leaving some food out for him.

Around two am, I was woken by VERY loud meowing, and got up to find him by the front window, very agitated about something outside.  My best guess is a raccoon, but when I looked, I didn't see anything.  He seemed to calm down, and when I sat down on one of the bunks, he hopped into my lap!  Before long he was curled up purring, and eventually fell asleep.  I managed to slowly reposition myself to a position in which I could sleep, and we both fell sound asleep.

After that, he clearly decided I was okay, and hopped into my lap at every opportunity.  I was concerned he might try to get out, so I was very careful going in and out of the cabin.  As it turns out, whenever I went back in, he was comfortably curled up inside, and made it very clear he had no desire to be out in the cold again.

Hanging out on the cat tower at home.

When the time came to leave, I packed the little guy up in a carrier I'd bought the day before, and loaded him in the car.  There was some fussing and meowing for the first hour or so, but he ultimately settled down comfortably for the rest of the ride.  After a check up at the vet, a basically clean bill of health, neutering, and a chip implanted, we got him settled into the shop.  After a lot of thought and input from others, I finally settled on the name Chester Proudpaw, a play on a character name from the old radio version of Gunsmoke.  And his nickname Chessie is reminiscent of the mascot for the C&O Railroad many years ago, a tabby by that name.   Over time, I introduced him to my other two cats, Jinx and Zero, and they all get along great now.

Minding the front counter at work.

So now Chester commutes with me, and is very mellow about the whole thing.  Unlike my other two cats, he does not fuss about getting into the carrier, and seems to genuinely like being at the shop during the day.  He and my other cats play and groom each other at home, and Chester gets lots of attention at the store.

Next time you're in the area, why not come by the shop and say hi?  He's a very sweet little boy, and generally very friendly with strangers.  It might take a minute or two, but he generally warms up quickly.

Fifteen Years With Tybalt!

While I don't know the exact date, I do know that right about now I'm reaching the anniversary of the first time I ever laid eyes on my little tabby cat Tybalt, and brought him home.  My best guess is that we first met on April 23rd, and he came home a few days later.

I should start by explaining I never thought of myself as a "cat person" for most of my life.  None of my friends when I was growing up had cats, and my family never had cats, only two dogs.  One of my earliest experiences with cats, when I was probably about fourteen or so, did nothing to win me over to the species.  I was visiting my older sister at her house, and was petting her cat Maggie (you Tennessee Williams fans will get that), who seemed perfectly calm.  In a flash, I found myself with a cat, claws out, scrambling up my arm and shoulder to my head, where she launched herself across the room.

Really not a great first impression.

Savannah perched on my desk.

Over time, yes, I met some cats who were nice enough.  My brother had a sweet manx named Savannah that I got to know when we were both back at our parents' house for a while.  I even cat sat for her for a week or so while my brother was away, and got to know and like her pretty well.  Still, over the years, I had few really close and positive interactions with cats.  I, like many others, saw them as mysterious, aloof creatures.  I'll always remember visiting someone's house or apartment who owned a cat, but you'd never, ever know, since they hid the moment you arrived.

Tomas

Then I got to know Tomas.  He was a sweet, big black cat who belonged to a woman I started dating about a year after moving back to the DC area.  He took to me, and I'll admit, I grew quite fond of him.  When we all moved into a house together, it was suggested that I get my own cat, both so I could learn what it's like and to provide a buddy for Tomas.  We talked about it idly, but didn't really make any definite steps.

Then a late April weekend where we had planned a camping trip, and the weather turned nasty... freezing rain and chilling cold.  With camping plans off, we thought we'd go check out a local shelter, and look at cats.  I don't know that either one of us really expected to find one on the first, impromptu trip, but on arrival we met this sweet little tabby kitten named Junior by the shelter.  The shelter had a separate "visitation room" and we took the little guy in there, and he was very friendly and cuddly, not shy at all.  He absolutely won me over right away, so we went to fill out the paperwork to start the adoption process.  As we were standing in line, I overheard the couple next in line talking, and the woman said "his name was Junior, right?" and I realized we weren't the only ones taken by the little fellow.

Paperwork done, all that was required was a house visit to make sure we were going to give him a suitable home.  When the woman came to interview us, Tomas calmly strolled into the middle of the room, plopped himself down, and proceeded to bathe himself.  This made us all laugh and the woman said "well, he's clearly very content here."  So that was that, Junior was mine.

One of my first photos of Tybalt, comfy on my desk.

Upon getting him home, we followed all the good advice about putting him in a room by himself for a while before introducing him to Tomas.  I spent a lot of time just getting to know him, and learning what a smart and playful boy he was.  I also knew I needed to come up with a new name for him, as Junior just wouldn't do.  After trying out a bunch of options in my head, I finally landed on Tybalt, from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.  If you haven't seen or read the play, or seen the amazing Zefferelli film from the 60s, you might not know that another character refers to Tybalt as "rat catcher" and "good king of cats."  It just seemed to suit my new little guy, so that's what I chose.

Snoozing with his buddy Tomas, about a month after coming home.

Prowling the yard.

The funny thing is, for the first few years of his life he was an indoor/outdoor cat, and we learned pretty quickly he really was quite the hunter.  Rodents were not at all safe around our house, and sadly, neither were birds.  He's since become an indoor only cat, which is better both for him and the wildlife.  He did very much enjoy his outdoor time, but it just isn't safe for him or my other cat where I live now.

He's got his eye on that bird outside.

I do have to share one of the funnier aspects of his hunting days early on.   He experimented with a variety of ways to try to wake me up for his breakfast earlier than I wanted to.  Leaping off the headboard onto my chest certainly woke me up... but also got him tossed out of the bed, and not breakfast.  Then one day I was woken by him running around and leaping and pouncing all over the bed.  I opened my eyes, and there he is on the pillow right next to me, with a tiny young mouse pinned under his paw, and he's looking at me like "isn't this cool?"  The mouse still being alive, and me being that kind of person, I managed to get the mouse from him and release it outside.

The next morning... there he was again, running, leaping, pouncing all over the bed.  I open my eyes and he's there on the pillow right next to my head, but no mouse!  The little stinker is looking at me like "Fooled you! Now how about that breakfast?"  Funny thing is, every so often, for the next few years, he would play the same game, and I could never just relax and assume he had no mouse, because I knew all too well what a good mouser he was.  I've lost count of how many times I've found a mouse or even rat he killed.  Luckily, for the last five years or so, there seem to be none where I live.  I'm pretty sure he and my other cat Jinx are the reason for that.

Tybalt in February of 2020, still bright eyed and active.

We've now been together for fifteen years and I couldn't be happier.  He's a sweet, gentle, and very affectionate cat, who likes nothing better than settling down on my lap (where he is right now as I write) or curling up next to me.  He loves naps with me, and at night, as soon as he sees I'm getting ready for bed, he trots into the bedroom and hops into bed with me.  Not a big one for meowing ever, he's got this adorable trill that I love.  He's quite a mellow fellow in his later years, but he'll still play with toys and chase things around, even giving my younger cat Jinx a run for his money.  And I've learned just how wonderful it is to have cats in your life and how easy they are to love.

New kitty!

That's right, there's a new kitten in my life!  Folks may know I've had my little buddy Tybalt (who just jumped on the track pad and did a little editing I had to undo) since 2005, when I adopted him from a shelter as a kitten.  I'd been thinking of getting him a sidekick for some time now, as he spends a fair amount of time alone. Just before Christmas, my girlfriend and I stopped at a shelter in Maryland, in search of a companion for her parakeet... and while we were there, we checked the cat room.  Lo and behold, there was a very handsome little tabby, similar to Tybalt, but with distinctive markings. He'd just come in that morning, and they'd named him Tiny Tim, in honor of the holidays.  A few minutes spent getting acquainted, and next thing you know I'm filling out an adoption application!

The application was approved pretty quickly, given the holidays... but then trouble reared it's head.  The poor little guy had come down with an upper respiratory infection and had been moved into the "sneeze room" at the shelter.  The next several weeks were a bit of a nail biting time, waiting to hear he was well enough to be neutered and leave the shelter... and every week being told "maybe next week." At one point the shelter staff even brought up the possibility of euthanizing the little guy if they couldn't get him better!  Luckily after a trip to a vet's office and yet another round of meds, he was deemed well enough to get neutered and leave, so we headed to the shelter as early in the day as we could get there and scooped him up and took him to my girlfriend's place.  She offered to foster him while he finished getting well, as my vet said I shouldn't introduce him to Tybalt and my apartment until he was better.

There's a bit of a devilish look in this shot...

So for now he's recuperating under her care, and is getting to know her two dogs, Rumba and Pogo, a little bit.  The dogs have been really good with him, more curious than aggressive, and he seems to not be intimidated by these very large creatures he's now among.  He's definitely feeling better, and eating better.  And showing all the typical kitten behaviors I had forgotten since Tybs was little.  The other night I was slowly drifting off to sleep, when I felt him leap from the foot of the bed to near my chest... then next thing I knew I was looking at the underside of a flying kitten, moments before he landed on my face!  Too funny, and too cute.  I can't wait to bring the little guy home to meet Tybalt... here's hoping they hit it off well!

Handsome boy!

Recent Events

Hey gang!

Time to catch folks up on what's been going on in my life of late. It's been far too long since I've posted, and a lot has happened.

First, as I had said in the last post, I've moved. I didn't know I was moving until shortly before I had to, but it's all worked out in the end. I'm now settling in to my new place... it's a roomy basement apartment in a single family home, with my own kitchen, living room, dining area, bedroom and bath. It's a little farther from work than my last place, but that's ok, I was kinda thinking I wanted a little bit longer ride to work, so I got that.

My little cat Tybalt is also settling in, feeling more at home every day. For those of you who have never owned a cat, trust me, change is NOT their favorite thing in the world. From the time I first started boxing things up, through the process of moving out, staying in a temporary place for a week, and moving in here, he's been a bit freaked out. In my old place he spent most of his time hiding in the rafters.... once I moved here, he burrowed under my blankets whenever I wasn't here, as near as I can tell. But for the last week or so, he's been out and about in the apartment when I've come home, so that's a good sign.

In the middle of all of that, there was the Vienna Halloween Parade, and as always, bikes@vienna made a splash. This year, John's goal was to get as many trike owners as possible to come and hook up their trikes into one giant train, aiming for 25 trikes in all. And I was hoping to assemble a "Brompton Brigade" of Brompton owners, riding and folding their bikes along the route.

Well, neither of us really met our goals, but we still had a lot of fun and made a memorable sight. We ended up with two trike trains of about a half dozen Sun EZ "delta" style trikes, which made quite a sensation looping and circling down the street. On the Brompton side... well, there were only two of us, myself and Christy, who was decked out in a great witches outfit and had lighted plastic pumpkins hanging from her handlebars. In the end, we ended up with me hopping off and folding my bike, walking a short way, and unfolding and remounting, while Christy circled around me, now and then doing appropriate "Vanna gestures" to call attention to what I was doing. Even the announcer at the reviewing stand was impressed, commenting on both the trike trains and my "transformer bike", as he called it.

So far, I haven't been able to find any photos of us in the parade, much to my disappointment. I know folks were snapping photos, but I just haven't been able to track any down online. I'll post links if I find any, or if anyone out there knows of some, please let me know!

Kittens at work!

I meant to write about this a couple of weeks ago, but just didn't get around to it. One of my co-workers, Al, recently rescued a trio of tiny kittens that a neighbor had found in the grass catcher of his lawn mower. They were about two weeks old at the time, and TINY! The first Saturday Al and his wife had the little ones, his wife had plans the whole day, so Al brought them in to work, where he fed them and took care of their needs in between fixing and assembling and selling trikes. I'd never seen kittens so young, and it was just amazing to me how tiny and frail they are at that age. And cute!!!!

Here's little Chelsea enjoying a meal in Al's hands. And no, contrary to what someone posted on my Flickr page, that's not Phil's Tenacious Oil he's being fed!

My cat is wonderful, but...

... I could live without some of the little "gifts" I find now and then.

What's that all about? Well, this morning, after my shower, I was straightening out the covers on my bed... and there, much to my surprise and disgust, was the severed head of a mouse! EEEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!



Not the best way to start my day. It's not the first time he's left me a rodent, but it is the first time he's left it in my bed. Yuck.

Then again, I shouldn't be too shocked... a few years ago I was awoken by him chasing a mouse around in the bed... and he had it pinned on the pillow right next to my head when I opened my eyes!!!!

Anyway, I'm doing laundry tonight...

...and hoping this isn't some weird "Cat Godfather" message...

Snorfling!

"Snorfling? What the heck is snorfling?" you ask.

Well, it's the noise Tybalt makes when he's in my lap, semi-conscious, just enjoying life. It's not a purr...his purr is so soft you have to have your ear against his side to hear it. No, it's his own special sound... sort of a heavy-breathing, soft snoring sound. It goes sorta like this... "snorfle... snorfle... snorfle..." :-)

You have to see it and hear it to appreciate it, but I find it makes me smile. The little guy is good at that.

To be fair...

... little buddy Tybalt tonight demonstrated one of HIS less charming habits... one that's actually more disgusting than anything Tomas does. And he did it just was we were about to start on my birthday dessert! The little guy sat down and scarfed down a sizable amount of canned cat food... and then walked behind my chair and proceeded to bring it all back up again on the floor behind me, accompanied by some really awful sounds. Yeccccchhhhh! It's hard to believe such a tiny creature can produce such a revolting surprise. He's perfectly healthy... he just can't seem to figure out that "enough is enough" thing.

And then there's Tomas...

How do I put into words how different this cat is from Tybalt? Hmmmm... he's twice Tybalt's size and weight, twice his age... you can hear him thump his way from room to room as he walks the house... often on the way to the bathroom, where he can spend amazing amounts of time splashing at the water in the toilet. He has a perpetually startled expression on his face... he is virtually hopeless when it comes to hunting and stalking... birds and small mammals see him long before he's in any sort of effective range. He tends to drool prodigiously when happy, which makes petting him a very odd and often damp experience! And it's not at all unusual for him to let fly with a good fart while you're petting him as well.

For all of that, he's a sweet, funny, utterly charming fella... just in very different ways. Being still new to living with cats, it's been quite the education for me to live with two such different personalities. Where Tybalt is so quiet and small you can't actually hear his purr unless your ear is resting on him, Tomas let's out a purr that sometimes I swear can be heard in the next room (not to mention the saliva and gas!). And he does an impression of William H. Macy that is quite remarkable! Okay, I have to explain that one... remember the scene in Pleasantville where Macy's character comes home to an empty house, and walks from room to room plaintively asking "Where's my dinner? Where's my dinner?"... well, that's Tomas in the evening... or the afternoon... or sometimes in the morning. Yes, he likes his food, which is no doubt part of why he's much bigger than Tybalt. All in all a pretty wonderful cat.

What do you see?

This reminds me of those Highlights magazines I read as a kid... you know, with the pictures where you have to find something hidden?

What you have here is Tybalt, in stealth mode. Can you see him? Kinda shows how useful the tabby markings are when you're a predator. I first noticed him hiding in this clump of grass (I use the term "grass" loosely... we live in a rented house, where the yard is, shall we say, eclectic in its ground cover) when I looked out the window. It was pretty easy to see him from there, but once I went outside and was looking from a more normal angle, he was just about invisible. And he sat stock still, staring at me, as if to see if I could see him. He ended up finally leaping out and racing toward me, as he loves to do. I'm pretty sure I spoiled his fun with hunting, but he was happy for some attention from me.

This next picture is him, later in the day, taking advantage of a new flower bed, using it to observe and stalk a squirrel. He's never actually gotten a hold of one, and I hope he never does. I can only imagine those claws on a squirrel could do some damage. The little guy does like to stalk things though, and now and then will present us with some critter... sometimes dead, but sometimes still quite alive! And sometimes it will get away from him... in the house. Argh. I thought having cats meant you never had mice in your house... well, when they bring them in to play with them....

A radical new astronomical theory

I'm not an astronomer... I don't even play one on TV... and no, I didn't stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.

But I have come up with a new theory... one that came to me in the night... as I tried to sleep... Here goes...

There appears to be an actual Center of the Universe!

It is a mobile yet immovable object, that seems impervious to any external force... it only moves at the urging of some unknown, mysterious force entirely internal to itself. When it is at rest, it most assuredly WILL stay at rest, regardless of whatever else is happening in the universe around it. When it is moving, it moves, unaffected by anything else, going the path it chooses.

It is, in astronomical terms, really, really small... not infinitely small, mind you, like some matter... no, it has a definite size and weight.... call it about eight and a half pounds, give or take... and smaller than a breadbox, but bigger than a bagel.

It is, simply put...








My cat, Tybalt! You see him there in all his glory, basking in bed, secure in the knowledge that nothing and nobody can get him to surrender his spot in the bed, unless he chooses to do so!

Honestly, this is one stubborn cat... if he's decided on "his" spot in the bed, heaven help anyone who might actually think otherwise! :-)

Good thing he's so darned cute!

He's back!

Yep, Wednesday Tybalt got his stitches out, and he's basically back to his old self! Well, it's going to take a while before the fur on his hip grows back, but he's acting like the fuzzy little bundle of energy I know and love. I let him outside for the first time in over a week, and he was so excited! At first I don't think he believed he was really going to be allowed out... he looked like he thought it was too good to be true. But once he was out... in snow, to boot... he loved it! He ran around, pouncing on the snow, and wrestling with it, and just generally loving being outside again! Woo hoo! He didn't want to come in, but dinner won out. It was so good to see him having so much fun and feeling good.

No, he's not getting a haircut...

That's my little buddy Tybalt wearing what the vet calls an Elizabethan collar. He's got it on because we don't want him biting or scratching at the stitches he now has on his left thigh.

Stitches you say? What happened?

Well, apparently during the Thanksgiving weekend, he got into some kind of tussle with another animal... maybe a cat, maybe not. We had heard a fuss near the house, but neither of our cats appeared injured, so we didn't think much about it, as it wasn't the first time we've heard such things. Typically, when we've had other animals appear in our yard, Tybalt does a quick vanishing act, but this time he apparently had an actual encounter. Unfortunately, we didn't know until much later.

He was clearly feeling under the weather for a day or so, and we thought it might be something he ate, or some kind of stomach bug. But then we noticed he was walking funny, a slight limp in his back end. There were no visible signs of injury, so we thought maybe he'd pulled something, or perhaps suffered a hairline fracture or something, as he could still walk, but just wasn't zipping around the usual way.

Well, after a couple of days of improvement, he suddenly took a sharp turn for the worse, and off we went to the kitty emergency room. As the tech started examining him, an abscess in his hip ruptured, oozing a lot of scary looking goo. Yikes! So he spent the night there, getting the bad tissue removed and a bunch of stitches in his thigh. And of course that charming collar. He really hates it, and now that it's been about a week, he's really tired of having it on. Until I get him to the vet this week though, it's gotta stay in place. Every time we've tried taking it off for a few minutes to give him a break, he immediately starts fussing at the wound. The poor little guy. A lesson learned... the moment he acts odd in any way, he needs to get to the vet.

It could have been a lot worse, and I'm relieved he's on the mend.

The Quietest Purr

(Having just seen a classic submarine movie I thought of titling this "Silent Purring" or "Purr Silent, Purr Deep".)




I am of course referring to my pal Tybalt there, who at not-quite-nine-pounds is a little fella, with a little voice to match. For the longest time he only made these quiet little trilling "worried little man" sounds (whoooooooo....) as he'd scurry along. I think he was about 2 years old before he started meowing, and even now it's with a tiny little voice.

The funny thing is, we thought he didn't purr either. About the closest to purring I'd hear when petting him was basically heavy breathing and light snorting sounds.... pretty funny, coming from a cat. Just recently though, holding him close, I've noticed a very distinct, but basically silent purr. You pretty much have to feel it rather than hear it, but like any cat's purr, it seems to say "life it gooooooood". Makes you wish you could find such pleasure in simple things sometimes, you know? And it's nice to get some feedback that he likes where he's at when I'm holding him.

Who ever would have thought I'd be so very fond of a cat? Not me... if you'd told me a few years ago, I wouldn't have believed it.

Farmcat!

Well, not really. But ever since we brought home a couple of bales of straw for the garden, young Tybalt has spent a lot of time around it... perching on it to get a better view, lurking behind it to get the drop on some bird, or just sprawled on it or next to it relaxing. Looks pretty tough there lolling among the dandelions, huh?

Critters

I ride to and from work on a rail-trail... one of those multi-use paths that use a former railroad right of way. It makes for a nice ride, in part because of the flora and fauna along the trail, especially at this time of year.

One treat this year has been the discovery of a fox den not far from the trail. I was tipped off to it by another rider who comes into our shop a lot, and I now have been lucky enough to see both mama fox and her three kits on several occasions.

Yesterday was the best so far though. I was riding home around dusk, nearing the area where the den is, when I suddenly realized all three kits were frolicking right beside the trail, and in fact stepped onto the pavement at one point. I stopped and watched for a minute or two, and it was delightful. Clearly they were playing... chasing each other and wrestling and jumping on one another. At one point, a pair of runners passed within 5 feet of them, totally oblivious to the kits! I guess they were too wrapped up in their training or whatever. I don't understand that... I always pay attention to my environment, and notice the little things, even when riding along at a good clip. Guess I'm just not totally focused on the "fitness" side of things.

Anyway, the kits eventually retreated back to the relative safety of the brush, but were still visible from the trail as I rode off. I was both grateful for the chance to see them, and concerned at their lack of fear of humans. That usually doesn't turn out well for animals. And I have to wonder where mama fox was all that time. Seems odd that she wouldn't have kept them out of sight with so many people still around. I think about a half dozen folks passed by in the short time I was there. I hope those little guys do okay.

On another note, my cat Tybalt had his annual checkup and vaccinations today. As usual he cried all the way to and from the vet, and the whole time he was in the waiting room. He just doesn't see much of other people or places, so it kind of freaks him out. The vet was very gentle and patient with him though, so it went well. And he's got a clean bill of health! Woo hoo!

Spring! part 2

IMG_0169.JPG,
originally uploaded by frickercycle.

I had to add this... I got home from my ride yesterday, to be greeted by Tybalt, my little tabby buddy. He was sick a couple of weeks ago, scaring the heck out of me. He's fine now, and yesterday was just loving being out in the warm sun. One of his all time favorite things is to do the Adorable Kitty Flop when he sees you, then roll around in absolute pleasure for a while. As a former-non-cat-person, I didn't know just how charming something like that could be. That's him there, basking.

Snow!

IMG_0049,
originally uploaded by frickercycle.

Only the second real snowfall we've had this season, and still not a big one. Ah, the quirky mid-Atlantic winters... we have had a mostly balmy one so far, but for the last week or so it's been COLD... and last night we got a nice little dusting of snow.

The pic is of my little buddy Tybalt, trying to figure out his next move. He seems to really love the snow....this morning, when I first let him and Tomas out, he ran down into the yard, and immediately began pouncing and swatting at the snow like it was a mouse or something. Very funny to see.

Tonight I teach another session of my basic bicycle maintenance and repair class. I just cover things like fixing a flat and simple gear and brake adjustments in this one. I hope to offer something more advanced before we get back into the busy spring season. I find people seem to really enjoy the class, and feel a lot better about their bikes afterwards. Some of them are just relieved to have a better understanding, with no desire to actually do the work themselves in the future... while others are hungry for further education. I like the class... it's a small way to keep my hand in teaching, which I did for about a decade, all told.

I also recently received news about an opening for the sort of job I used to do in theatre. Funny thing is, I'm not even tempted in the slightest. You spend 20+ years doing something, and you're convinced it's what you most want to do, but when you're done, you're done. I'm thoroughly enjoying the bicycle world, and can live quite well without the stress of my old life. Especially when I see a job description that includes the phrase "and anything else that might arise" !!!

Had a scare Wednesday night...

P6270118_1,
originally uploaded by frickercycle.

The picture you see is my little buddy Tybalt, the cat I've had for almost two years now. I've generally been a "dog person" my whole life, but have been won over to cats, in large measure due to this little fella.

Anyway, we let him and his buddy Tomas roam at will on days where I'm home all day, and Wednesday was one of those. He typically comes in to visit or nap during the day, then comes in for good before dark. Wednesday, I didn't see him at all during the day, and he was nowhere to be found at dusk. Annie and I spent a frantic several hours looking for him and calling, to no avail. We finally gave up after it had been dark several hours. I drafted up a "have you seen this cat" sign, thinking I'd have to put it around the neighborhood in the morning, and dreading the thought of not seeing him again.

I fell asleep around midnight, but woke up around 2am, and ended up in the living room, dozing and waking on and off until 3:30, when I thought I heard a familiar little squeak (Tybalt has a very tiny voice!). At first I thought it was imagination and wishful thinking, but a moment later, in he trots, acting like nothing is at all unusual. I was so happy to see him! I never really realized before how much I could connect with a cat... and I'm grateful he's back.