The great thing about having a cat blog is that if you don’t have time to write a post, or don’t feel like writing a post (today, it’s the latter), you can just publish a photo of a cat.
I decided to publish a couple of photos of our Pixie today. I took the first one, on the right, last summer…the second, just a couple of months ago.
Pixie has just turned 3 years old and is one of the sweetest kitties I’ve ever had.
She also does some really funny things, like lie on her back with her paws waving in the air.
Pixie, June 2020
I have heaps of photos of her in this position.
She often falls asleep like this, too, on our bed, paws frozen in one position.
When I first glanced at this article (see below link to the Fully Feline blog), this is how I read the first sentence:
“Apparently, cats like potato chips.”
“GIVE ME MY POTATO CHIPS…NOW!!!!!!”
Wait, whaaaaaat? Cats LIKE potato chips??? Impossible! I began having visions of feeding potato chip as treats to my cats… 😯
Oh, wait, no, phew, my mistake.
The sentence actually reads as follows: Apparently, cats are LIKE potato chips…In other words, if you have one cat, you must have another, and so on. Okay, that makes total sense (writes a woman who has SEVEN cats…).
And, in fact, the article states that most people have at least two cats…2.4 cats to be exact (a bit scary to imagine what that .4 cat looks like, eh! Just kidding!).
Okay, enough with the silliness…
The “Fully Feline” article tells us about the social behavior of cats and offers some good advice for people who have more than one cat.
The other day, while looking for older photos of Pavarotta, I found some photos of the cats who are no longer with us. I managed to finish and publish the post…with photos…but…
…simply put, I was overcome by sadness. Grief. All over again.
In the time that Stefano and I have been together, we have lost:
Keshé, my Canadian cat, who was with me in grad school and who traveled all the way from Toronto to Italy only to die a few months later (this must have been in 2001) from undiagnosed renal failure. She was only 5 years old. (No digital photos of her, unfortunately.)
Puzzola, who died in June of 2014 at the age of 16-17, was the first cat that Stefano and I adopted together after moving into our new home in 2001.
Piccolo, my sweet boy, who died a few months later, in September of 2014, at the age of 14.
Priscilla, who died at age 14.5 in January 2020. Her death was totally unexpected…hit us like a ton of bricks…
Oh no, big mistake. Tears began running down my cheeks, and I got very upset (stuffy nose, too!). As time goes by, you may think you’re over the pain, or you can deal with it, but it can come flooding back when a memory pops up or, as in this case, when you read something you wrote about your cat. That’s why Stefano never wants to talk about the kitties that are “gone,” and that’s why he will probably never read this post. Too painful.
I do, however, want to write about this topic at some point. It’s important for people to know that it’s okay to grieve after you lose a beloved pet. And those who don’t have pets have to respect that grief and be supportive.
Whenever one of my cats died, I remember wanting to “share” my grief with some of my closest friends, but they just didn’t understand. They didn’t have pets, and animals were just animals, bluntly put. In the end, I simply hid my pain and pretended that things were okay, even though they weren’t.
But that’s enough for today. I’ll write a happier post tomorrow or the day after…my Peekaboo post! 🙂
This morning I wrote a quick post on my health blog about my new endeavor (this cat blog, that is!). I would like for the two blogs to be linked, while being separate.
In April 2014, one of our neighbors here in Florence sold his house and moved to another city in northern Italy, near Venice. He took his dog with him and promised to come back as soon as possible for one of his cats — a female “inside but mostly outside” cat, named la Bionda (or, “the Blonde one”), that had lived with him and his family for her entire life.
I remember la Bionda as a young cat, passing through the neighbors’ gardens, including mine. She would often come over to say hello and be petted. She was usually accompanied by her sister, a less friendly but pretty grey tabby with long limbs and big, beautiful green eyes. Sadly, the sister disappeared early on…who knows what happened to her…I even remember looking around for her back then (incidentally, that’s one BIG reason my cats stay indoors…too many dangers out there, even in the best of neighborhoods…).
Anyway, fast forward to 2014, when la Bionda must have been about ten years old. After our neighbor packed his bags and left, my next-door neighbor and I took turns feeding la Bionda, but I took over 100% when we realized that it would be too dangerous for the kitty because of my neighbor’s non-cat-friendly dogs (another good reason to have indoor cats, don’t you think?).
I became quite taken with her, such a friendly, sweet kitty. Every time I’d go out on the terrace, she’d come running toward me, with her tail straight up in the air, and she’d push against my legs, purring madly. Irresistible.
At the time, I had no reason to believe that my former neighbor wouldn’t return to retrieve his kitty. After all, she’d been with his family cat forever. He couldn’t possibly abandon her, right?
But the summer months went by, and there was no sign of him, no phone calls…nothing. She’d clearly been abandoned. You can imagine the comments we, his neighbors, made about this situation…what a rascal, he should be reported to the authorities, blablabla. In the end, though, as we will soon see, he did us a favor.
The weather began changing. Cooler days and nights…winter was approaching. Stefano and I made up our minds. We already had other four cats, but we couldn’t bear the thought of leaving this lovely kitty out in the cold.
And so, with our entire neighborhood’s approval (we’re all quite close, which is really nice), Stefano and I decided to adopt the little lady. Funny thing: our neighbors bet that she wouldn’t adapt to (only) indoor life, whereas we bet that she would. I’m happy to say that they lost the bet. I would also like to note that if, in the end, she’d been too unhappy about being an inside cat, we were prepared to let her live outside. We do not keep any prisoners in our home!
Anyway, we said we’d give it at least a couple of weeks.
And so, one day, we brought her inside. We had to give her another name that began with a P, to follow our “P” tradition. We have actually changed her name a few times during the years, finally settling on Pavarotta because she is quite vocal…She doesn’t meow, but chirps and sings…so funny.
Until she went to the vet, though, we kept her separate from our other cats, as a precaution, even though she looked extremely healthy. So I slept with her in the guest room.That first night, I barely got a wink of sleep — Pavarotta kept kneading me from head to toe, climbing all over me, and purring and chirping loudly in my ears…
Pavarotta and Pinga, 2017
The happiest kitty in the world. And I was happy that SHE was happy.
The following day we took her to the vet. She was in good health, generally speaking. She just had some minor issues such as ear mites, which are very common in outside cats and also very contagious to other cats. She also had a rather bad case of gingivitis, which the vet told me would probably have killed her if we hadn’t brought her in. Gingivitis is so painful that outdoor cats, stray cats, of course, simply stop eating. And you know what that means…Luckily, Pavarotta’s case had a happy ending. We treated the minor issues, which took about a week, as I recall, and then introduced her to the other cats. I’ll write a post about introducing new cats to resident cats, even though there are a million blogs and websites that provide heaps of information. My information concerns only my cats, of course…We’ve tried a bunch of strategies…some work, some don’t. But that’s for a future post.
Back to Pavarotta’s story. We soon discovered that she was a miniature Houdini. After we got home from the vet, Stefano took her up to the guestroom, let her out of the cat carrier, and left the room, shutting the door, of course. About 5 minutes later I went upstairs to check on her. The window was open, but the screen was pulled down. Everything looked normal, except…Pavarotta was nowhere to be seen. I looked for her everywhere, under every piece of furniture, but no, she was gone. How???
Pavarotta, 2020
Stefano and I finally discovered that she had somehow managed, using her claws like a knife, to cut through the mosquito netting in a corner of one of the screens, making an L-shaped hole just wide enough for her to get through. Then she had jumped onto the magnolia tree in our front yard, and, from there, reached the street. The L-shaped hole had snapped back into place, so you couldn’t tell there was a hole until you touched it. What a clever kitty!
But I didn’t have time to admire her handiwork, or claw-work. I panicked. I called my neighbors, and we all went around looking for her. But she was gone…I didn’t know if she’d come back again. Very upsetting.
The following morning, though, there she was. Sitting on our back terrace and waiting for me to go out and feed her. I laughed, relieved, picked her up and brought her inside. She hasn’t been outside since. Actually, she hasn’t even tried!
I admit, it wasn’t easy in the beginning. For several days she’d go to the terrace door about once or twice a day and cry to be let out. I would distract her with a good scratching and a cuddle. Evidently, that worked. Now, whenever I open the terrace door, she looks the other way. She knows it’s a tough life out there, and she has become very attached to us. She knows, I hope!, that we will never abandon her…
Friends have asked me: “a cat blog, Margaret? Why? You write about your cats on your other blog, too, so why start another one?
That’s true. I have written a lot about my life in Tuscany with Stefano and the kitties, and I will continue to do so.
But recently I began fidgeting a bit, perhaps because I’m staying more at home than I did before March 2020, when Italy went into a full Covid-19-caused lockdown. The lockdown has been over since May 2020, but even now I try to avoid unnecessary outings because of my impaired immune system. Coronavirus, unfortunately, is still alive and well, so we must all be careful…
Pandora (left) kissing her sister Pixie on March 24 2020, during the Italian lockdown
Point is: I’m home a lot, and I have more free time than I had before the pandemic…
Another reason to have a separate blog: I’ve also gotten a bit tired of reading scientific and medical articles for Margaret’s Corner. I’ve done that, happily!, for years (and will continue to do so), and I’m certain that my research has saved my life, but everyone needs a break every once in a while. And what could be better than thinking and writing only about cats for a few minutes a day? 🙂
And now for the most important reason: Potter. Our new kitten, 4 months old today, has inspired me to pick up my pen again (well, okay, to put my fingers back on the keyboard!). I’d almost completely lost my desire to write during the coronavirus pandemic…
Oh, didn’t I just say that I wanted to think and write only about cats? Hah! I will, I will…I just wanted to make a few preliminary comments…
Tomorrow, providing I have the time, I’ll write and post Pavarotta’s story, a story of abandonment, but with a happy ending…
All of our cats are rescue cats (except for Potter). Since Stefano and I got married, 21 years ago!, we’ve rescued only cats or kittens who were in need or in danger or sick…
Here are their names and ages, from the eldest to the youngest:
Pavarotta, 16-17 years old.
Peekaboo, 13 years old.
Pinga, 11 years old.
Prezzemolo, 8 years old.
Pixie and Pandora, sisters, adopted 3 years ago.
Potter, almost 4 months old (tomorrow).
Except for the youngest three cats and for Peekaboo (who was born in a neighbor’s yard), we don’t have exact birth DATES for Pavarotta, Pinga, and Prezzemolo.
Piccolo (left) and Puzzola, 2005
Based on what the vet told us, therefore, we assigned random birthdays to these three cats, but, especially in Pavarotta’s case (this will be made clearer when I write her story), the dates could be off by a matter of months…indeed, in her case, even by an entire year…or so.
You may have noticed that their names all begin with the letter “P.” That’s sort of a “tradition” that began by chance with our first two cats (who are no longer with us, unfortunately): Puzzola and Piccolo, see photo. I mean, we didn’t actually plan to use only “P” names. It just happened.
I’ve wanted to have my own cat blog for years now. Until recently, though, a good part of my free time was devoted to doing research for another blog, my personal health blog, titled “Margaret’s Corner. Living with smoldering myeloma in Tuscany” (see: https://margaret.healthblogs.org/). I have a type of deadly blood cancer called multiple myeloma. Luckily for me, I’ve been in the so-called “smoldering,” or inactive, stage for more than 15 years. So, life is good, fingers crossed.
Pinga (left) and Pandora, with a glimpse of Pavarotta in the back, on the left
But this is my cat blog, my “escape from reality” blog. No cancer talk…no politics…
Just cats.
Okay, so here’s my quick and easy answer to the question: why acat blog? It’s because Stefano and I live with seven indoor cats of all ages and backgrounds.
Even though they spend all their time inside, our cats are never bored. We live in a townhouse with plenty of space for everyone. The cats have tons of toys, floor-to-ceiling cat towers, and, best of all (of course!), they have me, almost 24 hours a day now. I stay/work at home most of the time, especially since early March (when Italy went into a total lockdown caused by Covid-19), so I’m always ready to hug, pet, or play with them, clean their litter boxes, feed them, and tend to their every need.
In the next few days, I’ll introduce these wonderful cats, one by one.
Incidentally, I won’t just be posting cute cat photos/videos and writing about fluffy, silly stuff. I mean, I’ll probably be doing that, too, but I also want to remember the cats we’ve lost and will therefore at times be discussing some rather difficult subjects, such as grief. But…that can all wait for later! First, let’s go with some photos and some fluff! 🙂
“Speak for yourself,” retorted Stefano, my husband of 21 years, grinning and interrupting my chain of thought.
“…we’re getting older,” I repeated, ignoring him, “and our cats are getting older, too. So here’s what I think: we don’t NEED any more cats, our house is full. But let’s just say that at some point we come across the cutest, most lovable kitten in the world. Well, forget it. Not happening. Everyone wants to adopt kittens, and kittens usually have a much easier time finding a good home compared to adult cats. In the future, therefore, we will be open ONLY to adopting an elderly or disabled cat that nobody else wants.”
(Harry) Potter, July 2020, 2.5 weeks old
And so we both agreed: no more kittens.
This conversation took place about a year ago, and that’s how, in July 2020, we ended up with Potter, an absolutely adorable, fluffy 2.5-month-old Maine Coon kitten.
At the time, I had no reason to believe that my former neighbor wouldn’t return to retrieve his kitty. After all, she’d been with his family cat forever. He couldn’t possibly abandon her, right?
