1. Due to her origins as a rescued, injured, shelter kitty, we never knew what Petra's breed was. It's possible she was a ragamuffin or a British shorthair - she had a round, pumpkin-faced look, and the softest, thickest fur I ever felt on a cat. She was black and white, but not like most black and white cats. When you saw her fur in the sun, you saw how true black and true white she was - no hidden stripes underneath. She felt like a rabbit when you petted her, and was incredibly docile - she let us hold her like a baby, hold her upside down, and she enjoyed being petted backwards. Petra had perfect kitty eyeliner, a black nose with a tiny pink spot, and black freckles on her white front legs.
2. Petra was a fighter. Despite all odds, at around 8 weeks of age she managed to survive either an attack by an animal or a run-in with a car long enough for someone to find her and rescue her, and for the shelter to remove her leg. The vet who cared for her liked her so much she fostered Petra herself until she was well enough to be adopted out. Then, when she swallowed the needle, the only indication we had that anything was wrong was a couple of days of coughing like she had a hairball and a recurring respiratory infection. As soon as the needle was out, she was back to her normal self again. In this final illness, she lived longer than either of us expected, and even rallied a couple of times toward the end before her final decline.
3. Petra loved to sit in the sun and watch the birds and squirrels outside - we called it the kitty show. She made little "excited, want to hunt" meeshing noises whenever she saw something really interesting, whether it was something on the Kitty Show or a moth or other bug inside or a reflection of light on the wall. Seeing Petra get excited about something was one of my favorite things, ever.
4. From the very first time we met her, it was obvious that Petra loved Dan the most. When she was a kitten, she had a habit of sitting on Dan's chest at 4 AM, purring and making biscuits, and giving him head butts. Dan called it "morning lovey time." The first time we left her for a few days, when we came back, the first night she woke him up with lovey time about 6 times. Her habits revolved around getting Dan to pay attention to her, and he was the one who could calm her down best when she had scary phantom-limb pain episodes.
5. Petra was very particular about things she liked and things she didn't like. Sitting on laps: bad. Throw rugs on the floor: good. She was never much of a talker or vocalizer but there were a few things she said that were unlike the way any other cat said them (brrt moo brrt, for example). The last six months or so, most of what she said was moo. The loudest we ever heard her vocalize was on car trips to and from Dan's parents' house - man, did she ever hate that, and she let us know about it.
6. Our kitty had a great talent for fitting herself into unusual places, whether that be sitting on spiky box lids or finding hiding places where nobody would think to look. Last Christmas we stayed up at Dan's parents' house for several days, so of course we brought the cats with us. When it was time for us to leave, we managed to corral Loki into his carrier pretty quickly, but we couldn't find Petra. We looked in all her usual hiding spots and everywhere else we could possibly think of, multiple times. We knew she couldn't have gotten outside, so we were pretty much at a loss. Finally, I found her hiding up inside an old desk; she had squeezed through a little hole and crawled up behind one of the desk drawers. I don't know how she managed it, but her hour+ of run-around was that much longer that she didn't have to be in the cat carrier.
7. One of the most important things to Petra was cleanliness. She insisted on bathing herself multiple times a day - up to 10 times, maybe, on some days. She also bathed Loki quite frequently; I think part of the reason why he is so soft is because she gave him baths. Bathing was like a meditation for her and sometimes she'd fall asleep right in the middle of one.
8. Along with the cleanliness issue came a distaste for just about anything that she thought smelled bad. If Petra smelled so much as a molecule of poop or old food or something else she deemed offensive, she'd cover it up with the nearest throw rug or piece of paper. We often came out in the morning to find one of the living room throw-rugs folded over because something on it didn't smell right to her.
9. Because she didn't have her left back leg, Petra would often sit with a glazed look on her face, stump twitching, when her left ear itched. Every time we noticed it we told her that she didn't have that leg, and we'd give her an ear skritching.
10. Petra was all about making good trades. She gave us a trick and we gave her treats. We gave her pets and she gave us purrs; it was the best trade we could imagine and we always felt we were getting the better end of the deal. The last few weeks while she'd been so sick, Petra never purred, even when we were petting her, so we knew she didn't feel well. This morning, after we'd made the appointment to bring her in, both of us sat next to her, petting her in all the best places. After a few minutes, she started to purr. It was the best thing she could have given us.
Read more about Petra here.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 07, 2009
Radio silence
This past week has been a scary roller-coaster ride of emotions, primarily when it comes to the cat. She went in for a vet visit on Wednesday and her kidneys were smaller and she'd gained a little weight, which seemed like promising signs. The labs came back on Thursday and the tiny bit of hope we had was dashed to pieces, as they told us that her kidney function has declined significantly (again). (We did manage to get rid of her e.coli infection, so that's something I suppose). She didn't eat much on Thursday or Friday and was lethargic and disoriented, so we had some friends over for dinner to say goodbye to her, since what we were doing, pallative-care wise, seemed not to be doing much for her anymore. She did eat a little bit of rotisserie chicken on Friday, but we didn't have high hopes that she'd ever do much getting out of the little nest she made for herself on the couch.
On Saturday we talked about our options, and made some plans for her end-of-life care that would have put Loki at Dan's parents' house, us in the car driving to California, and Petra in the ground this Thursday. We watched with tears in our eyes as Loki bathed her and kept her warm in her little couch nest. Sunday we saw Dan's parents and asked if we could bury her at their house, and then we went to the same Christmas tree farm as last year and found our Charlie Brown tree. When we got home, Petra seemed more energetic and far less disoriented than she had in days. She actually looked and acted like herself again, going so far as to do her trick for kitty treats eight times in a row last night, eating and drinking, using the litter box, and stretching out on the throw rug in the kitchen. She even begged for some chicken from my dinner plate as I was sitting next to her couch nest while eating last night, something she'd never done before.
The only thing we can think of is that she's rallying a bit thanks to several days of prednisalone treatment, a steroid we're giving her to help control her kidney inflammation. It won't make her better in the long-term but I guess in the short-term it's helping her feel a little better. The form of cancer she has is very aggressive and cats don't tend to live very long; she's already outlived the 4-6 weeks generally cited.
So now we don't know what to do. We want her to have as much good quality of life as we can. We know now for sure that it's renal lymphoma so she doesn't have very much longer at all, and we're (for the most part) at peace with that. But how do you know when is the right time to say goodbye?
On Saturday we talked about our options, and made some plans for her end-of-life care that would have put Loki at Dan's parents' house, us in the car driving to California, and Petra in the ground this Thursday. We watched with tears in our eyes as Loki bathed her and kept her warm in her little couch nest. Sunday we saw Dan's parents and asked if we could bury her at their house, and then we went to the same Christmas tree farm as last year and found our Charlie Brown tree. When we got home, Petra seemed more energetic and far less disoriented than she had in days. She actually looked and acted like herself again, going so far as to do her trick for kitty treats eight times in a row last night, eating and drinking, using the litter box, and stretching out on the throw rug in the kitchen. She even begged for some chicken from my dinner plate as I was sitting next to her couch nest while eating last night, something she'd never done before.
The only thing we can think of is that she's rallying a bit thanks to several days of prednisalone treatment, a steroid we're giving her to help control her kidney inflammation. It won't make her better in the long-term but I guess in the short-term it's helping her feel a little better. The form of cancer she has is very aggressive and cats don't tend to live very long; she's already outlived the 4-6 weeks generally cited.
So now we don't know what to do. We want her to have as much good quality of life as we can. We know now for sure that it's renal lymphoma so she doesn't have very much longer at all, and we're (for the most part) at peace with that. But how do you know when is the right time to say goodbye?
Monday, November 30, 2009
So how is Petra?
Monkey asked a few days ago how Petra was (in response to my "things I am thankful for" post, I believe, where I wrote "healthy pets").
The thanks I was giving was for Loki being healthy. Petra is still sick, and while we have been treating her for a serious e.coli infection, which it's possible it's all she has (and if that is the case, she'll have cheated death 3 times!), it's not likely. She's rallied a bit and put some weight back on now that we've been giving her lots of wet food and kitty treats. The past few days it's been cold, and Petra never acts like she feels very good when it's cold outside. She's always been kind of standoffish in the winter; we think the cold makes her stump hurt. So it is difficult to tell how much of it is that and how much is that she doesn't feel good because she's sick.
We have been continuing to give her subcutaneous fluids and antibiotics and a potassium goop shot into her mouth via large syringe (which she Does Not Like), and recently added a 1/4 tablet of Pepcid AC to help keep her stomach feeling OK so she doesn't puke up as much water. There has still been some troubling behavior, and she finishes the current round of antibiotics on Wednesday, so that's when she'll be going back in to the vet for a recheck.
There is a test that will tell us definitively whether or not Petra has cancer. It is very, very expensive and invasive and is something we just aren't willing to put her through. Because if she does have it, all we'd do is continue what we are doing. And if she doesn't, she'll get better.
The in-between is really frustrating, though. Our holiday travel plans (which we hoped would include going out to California for Wombat's birthday and staying through Christmas) are still on hold until we know more for sure. Neither of us wants to leave a very sick kitty, even with offers of assistance that have come from more than one place. If she doesn't have much longer, we want her to be in her own space and stressed as little as possible, not upset that her humans are gone or being in someone else's space.
I'm desperately homesick right now; we haven't been to California since May (the longest I've ever gone since moving here) and I miss my family and our friends in California fiercely. I am going to be so, so incredibly sad if we can't go for Christmas. And I feel guilty that I'm thinking about that rather than thinking about what is best for Petra. But damn, it's really hard for me right now. Good thoughts appreciated. And for any of you reading this who might reasonably expect a knitted gift from me this year, know that Petra seems to be infusing them with extra love and attention. The past two days she's been curled up in my knitting and it may never look the same.
The thanks I was giving was for Loki being healthy. Petra is still sick, and while we have been treating her for a serious e.coli infection, which it's possible it's all she has (and if that is the case, she'll have cheated death 3 times!), it's not likely. She's rallied a bit and put some weight back on now that we've been giving her lots of wet food and kitty treats. The past few days it's been cold, and Petra never acts like she feels very good when it's cold outside. She's always been kind of standoffish in the winter; we think the cold makes her stump hurt. So it is difficult to tell how much of it is that and how much is that she doesn't feel good because she's sick.
We have been continuing to give her subcutaneous fluids and antibiotics and a potassium goop shot into her mouth via large syringe (which she Does Not Like), and recently added a 1/4 tablet of Pepcid AC to help keep her stomach feeling OK so she doesn't puke up as much water. There has still been some troubling behavior, and she finishes the current round of antibiotics on Wednesday, so that's when she'll be going back in to the vet for a recheck.
There is a test that will tell us definitively whether or not Petra has cancer. It is very, very expensive and invasive and is something we just aren't willing to put her through. Because if she does have it, all we'd do is continue what we are doing. And if she doesn't, she'll get better.
The in-between is really frustrating, though. Our holiday travel plans (which we hoped would include going out to California for Wombat's birthday and staying through Christmas) are still on hold until we know more for sure. Neither of us wants to leave a very sick kitty, even with offers of assistance that have come from more than one place. If she doesn't have much longer, we want her to be in her own space and stressed as little as possible, not upset that her humans are gone or being in someone else's space.
I'm desperately homesick right now; we haven't been to California since May (the longest I've ever gone since moving here) and I miss my family and our friends in California fiercely. I am going to be so, so incredibly sad if we can't go for Christmas. And I feel guilty that I'm thinking about that rather than thinking about what is best for Petra. But damn, it's really hard for me right now. Good thoughts appreciated. And for any of you reading this who might reasonably expect a knitted gift from me this year, know that Petra seems to be infusing them with extra love and attention. The past two days she's been curled up in my knitting and it may never look the same.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
It's always best to go when it's snowing outside
Dan and I seem to make it to the zoo at least once every winter. We usually try to go when it's snowing outside, which seriously cuts down on the crowds and screaming children, but yesterday we just needed some exercise and so we decided to walk to the zoo, crowds be damned. It was actually pretty cold, so there weren't as many people as there could have been, and there were lots of cute babies and little kids.
There were also lots of animals. Here are some of the good photos I got.
Peacock looks for forbidden snacks in strollers parked outside the Tropical Discovery building.
Cheetah in repose. Usually he's pacing because there are kangaroos in the next enclosure over but they weren't out that day.
Rhino hanging out right near his paparazzi.
Same with Komodo dragon.
Polar bear feet are REALLY BIG.
Just hangin' out with his giraffe homeys.
Two-headed lion
Funny-looking bird is funny-looking
We spent a good amount of time, as we always do, in the Great Ape area. On display were the two bachelor brother gorillas (rather than the big silverback and his family) and they were amusing themselves. We spoke with a docent who volunteers in the Great Ape area, who told us a lot about the apes that we never would have known.
The Denver Zoo may not be world-class, but it's still a pretty good zoo, and, all things considered, an excellent deal. Plus, walking to and from the zoo is good exercise for us during a weekend of sloth and gluttony!
There were also lots of animals. Here are some of the good photos I got.
Peacock looks for forbidden snacks in strollers parked outside the Tropical Discovery building.
Cheetah in repose. Usually he's pacing because there are kangaroos in the next enclosure over but they weren't out that day.
Rhino hanging out right near his paparazzi.
Same with Komodo dragon.
Polar bear feet are REALLY BIG.
Just hangin' out with his giraffe homeys.
Two-headed lion
Funny-looking bird is funny-looking
We spent a good amount of time, as we always do, in the Great Ape area. On display were the two bachelor brother gorillas (rather than the big silverback and his family) and they were amusing themselves. We spoke with a docent who volunteers in the Great Ape area, who told us a lot about the apes that we never would have known.
The Denver Zoo may not be world-class, but it's still a pretty good zoo, and, all things considered, an excellent deal. Plus, walking to and from the zoo is good exercise for us during a weekend of sloth and gluttony!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Loki loves Petra
Petra decided to hang out with my knitting on the couch, where she almost never goes. Loki decided to hang out with Petra.
Friday, November 27, 2009
How to process a pumpkin: a pictorial essay
Materials you will need:
1 sugar pumpkin (not the kind you carve)
1 knife
1 cutting board
1 9x13 pan
aluminum foil
oven
large spoon
colander
food processor
cheesecloth
Preheat oven to 400F.
1. Using big knife, cut pumpkin in half across the middle.
2. Scoop out seeds using your hands or a spoon. If you want to keep them, do it over a colander under running water. Separate the seeds from the strands, rinse, and place on a cookie sheet to dry for a day.
3. Use a spoon to scrape out as many of the strings as you can. It's not a big deal if you can't get them all.
4. Place pumpkin halves flesh-side down in the baking pan and add about 1/4 inch of water to the bottom of the pan. Cover with aluminum foil and roast for 45-60 minutes or until flesh is soft when poked with a fork. Let cool.
before
after
5. When pumpkin halves are cool enough to handle, use large spoon to scrape soft flesh from rind. Put 1/4 of the flesh in the food processor at a time. Process until very smooth (the consistency of baby food). Add processed pumpkin to a bowl and repeat until all the pumpkin is pureed.
6. Cut a length of cheesecloth big enough to create a pouch, making sure you have several thicknesses layered on top of one another. Place square of cheesecloth over a colander and spoon some of the pumpkin into the middle.
7. Gather cheesecloth up over pumpkin puree and make a little sack with your hands. Use your hands to massage and squeeze as much water as you can out of the pumpkin without squeezing flesh out the holes in the cheesecloth. This may take a while.
8. Put now-dry pumpkin puree into a different bowl.
9. Repeat steps 8 and 9 until all pumpkin has been dehydrated. (If you aren't in a hurry, you can spread all the pumpkin over cheesecloth in a colander in the sink and let it sit for several hours so the water runs out. I am not that patient.)
10. Voila! You now have at least one pumpkin pie's worth of fresh pumpkin mush. You can rinse out and reuse the cheesecloth for another project. It will dry in a short amount of time and be only slightly orange.
Coming soon: making pumpkin pie from scratch.
(All photos by Dan except the one of the pumpkin seeds, which I took.)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Twenty years later
Not long after we moved into the new house in the 'dale, Laurel turned three right around Thanksgiving. We didn't know many people her age in town, so most of the party guests were Lissa's friends, the neighbor kids, and their cousins.
L-R Kid, Laurel, Kid, Me, Kid, Lissa, Kid
Also, I just want to point out that whoever took the photo managed to get every one of our faces in shadow! hee.
Mostly I remember that the kids spent a good portion of the party jumping in leaf piles in the backyard. What's a better activity than that?
Happy birthday, little sister. May every birthday be as carefree as that one 20 years ago was.
L-R Kid, Laurel, Kid, Me, Kid, Lissa, Kid
Also, I just want to point out that whoever took the photo managed to get every one of our faces in shadow! hee.
Mostly I remember that the kids spent a good portion of the party jumping in leaf piles in the backyard. What's a better activity than that?
Happy birthday, little sister. May every birthday be as carefree as that one 20 years ago was.
Things for which I am thankful
Good food
Healthy family and friends
Healthy pets
Getting to see my family via webcam and say happy birthday to my little sister.
Wine
That I found jeans that fit
That I am capable of lifting 40 pound bags of cat litter
A wonderful, awesome, and loving husband
A job that pays the bills
That I get to see snow fall, and sunny skies, and rain, and everything else that makes each day different from the last
Healthy family and friends
Healthy pets
Getting to see my family via webcam and say happy birthday to my little sister.
Wine
That I found jeans that fit
That I am capable of lifting 40 pound bags of cat litter
A wonderful, awesome, and loving husband
A job that pays the bills
That I get to see snow fall, and sunny skies, and rain, and everything else that makes each day different from the last
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