iz not best bed evar... is ok
Alex made me miss my cats today, so I’m posting a picture of Nyc (or Euphrates or whatever), who was briefly my cat, and who believed he owned my entire house, as you can see.
My Former Cat
November 17th, 2008 — photos
Why I Need a Garage (very sad content; consider carefully before reading)
October 4th, 2008 — Uncategorized
I was hurriedly preparing my morning: getting my work keys to let my students into the clinic for some Saturday appointments, cleaning a couple of things, fiddling with the solar still (water still tastes awful; it’s been a week), and then I went to get my kayak. After letting the students in, I figured I’d get a little paddling time at the reservoir. I haven’t been since I got back from Canada for the summer.
And therein lay the problem. In a moment, you will understand that the last sentence I wrote is a horrible, sick pun. I pulled back the tarp that covers my kayaks where they hang from hooks and straps on my back fence, in my liliputian “backyard”, and as I did so I smelled something. It reminded me of a nasty townhouse I spent a month or two cleaning up, after decades of filth and neglect. The kayak had been hanging on its side all summer, and the source of the stench was right about where my right thigh would go, if I were paddling. It looked, at first, like a bird’s nest, but messier. Rat’s nest? Pile of leaves somehow blown under the tarp and accumulated in the boat? Mud and twigs? Few seconds I did not realize how unlikely all of these ideas were. As I tilted the kayak to pull it out of its straps, a rounded, triangular object like a large, thick, wooden gingko leaf clattered down from where it had been stuck to the deck of the boat.
As it turns out, this was a scapula (I think, maybe; you can see it in the photos). The nest was fur and bones. It was a cat, or had been, quite some time ago. It must have been dead a good portion of the summer, because there was no rotting smell, just a strong musky reek, like a dried, carmelized pool of urine (which was, I think, the reason for a similar reek in the upstairs bedroom and closet of the townhouse, back in Ohio). The ex-cat was pretty much fur and bones; nothing squishy, nothing remotely moist. It was dry, but partially stuck together, as if with crackling glue. And there were dead, black, crunchy tubular insect bodies everywhere.
Now you know why the last two hours have been spent peeling, scooping, scrubbing, soaking, scrubbing, soaking, and scrubbing the kayak. Instead of paddling it. I have used half a gallon of concentrated Simple Green and a quart of Lysol. The gloves I was wearing will be thrown away. The clothing may be burned. If so, I expect a face-melting manifestation much like that opening-the-ark scene in the first Indiana Jones movie.
I assume the cat died from something other than being trapped in my boat. (1) There were no signs of struggle, and there was lots of foam he/she might have scratched and probably destroyed. For that matter, any cat worth its salt could have clawed through the tarp covering the opening. (2) It would have taken about zero calories’ worth of effort to escape. The tarp was not tight; it was like a semi-taut sheet draped over a window. I guess the cat was just dying for other reasons, and chose my cockpit as its blue plastic mausoleum.
DEAR SMALL ANIMALS: I KNOW YOU NEED A NICE, QUIET PLACE TO DIE, BUT I OBJECT TO YOUR USE OF MY KAYAK FOR THIS PURPOSE. MAY I RECOMMEND INSTEAD THE CULVERT BEHIND MY APARTMENT COMPLEX. THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING. SINCERELY, THE MANAGEMENT.
If you want to see the photos (of course I took photos), they’re kind of freakishly fascinating (to me). They’re under the cut. Continue reading →
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Dear Cat: I still love you, really, it’s just… it’s complicated.
September 30th, 2008 — photos, updates
Teh Kat with his new owner. Both seem very happy. Also, new owner isn’t going to declaw him, so that’s good. I miss the little guy already, but I’m also hugely relieved. Very very relieved. Also the cat was fluffy and cute. Did I mention that?
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Six Minutes of Conehead Kitten
September 26th, 2008 — updates
This might (cross fingers) be my last day with little cat. His name might be Euphrates, because that’s what his new owner is calling him (so far). At some places in the video, you can see (a) the healing wound around his gumline, and (b) the one under his chin where he was (apparently ill-advisedly) sewn up the first time.
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Not My Cat: Update
September 15th, 2008 — photos, updates
Bath Cat
By Saturday, I noticed that maybe his face wasn’t healing as well as it should. By that night (no vets open), the skin and fur had peeled down and back, and were hanging from the raw open flesh of his distinctly un-skin-covered lowere jaw like a flip-flop on a beach bum’s foot. Only the sutures seemed to be holding things together, and they were turning black and, um, oogie. Plus, the raw, nasty flesh that had been de-skinned was turning dry and black in some spots. BAD! So I freaked out a lot, worried a lot (I’m discovering that I’m a bit of a worrywart), tried to keep him isolated in the back room (except for mandatory snuggling) to keep him from further irritating his evil wound, and ultimately waited until this morning to do anything, except applying peroxide and antibiotic ointment, which NyC didn’t even seem to notice. On his raw, open wound. ::shudder:: Nerve damage, maybe.
This morning, I went to see Dr. Cerelli, who specializes in animal oral/maxillofacial surgery or something. I heard he was expensive, which was why I didn’t go in the first place (in retrospect, this may have been a been a bad choice). Four Paws is a swanky place. It smells clean and perfumed and new and expensive. They have sparkling consultation rooms with scrubs-clad technicians. They have lots of forms to sign. It feels (I’m sure intentionally) like an MD’s office.
NyC had a great fun time. He was angry from no breakfast, but he explored and meowed and played and came back to snuggle in my lap every few minutes. Normal cat stuff. Dr. Cerelli didn’t seem overly worried about his chances for survival, but he did express wonder and disbelief that my other vets had chosen to suture his mouth the way they did. Cerelli will remove the wire sutures, then cut along the gum line and re-attach the mouth in sort of a u-shape all along the lower jaw, with dissolvable sutures. It will cost much more than the first procedure.
One vet I talked to last week said something I already knew: for the price of making this kitten healthy, I could have several spayed or neutered. The implication (not very subtle) was that it would be more responsible to let this cat go (or having him put down) and then donate the vet money to other causes.
I can’t fault the guy’s logic. It’s logic I use all the time. But now I have a personal relationship with this cat. It’s not that I have to keep him; it’s just that I can’t stand to think of him suffering. Nonrational but very compelling.
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Not my cat.
September 10th, 2008 — updates
If the above YouTube link doesn’t work, you can try clicking here to download the 50MB (or so) wmv file. I don’t know why you’d want to, but… OK, 1/3 of this blog’s regular viewing audience would probably want to. She is mildly obsessed with kitties. So I put myself into videos with kitties. Sneaky, eh?
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Raptors totally suck
September 10th, 2008 — memes, updates
I took a quiz on surviving raptor attacks, and here are my results:
On an unrelated (I sincerely hope) note, I will get the kitty back today, to begin his stay with me while he heals. Sigh. Kittens.
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Unexpected Cat Update
September 9th, 2008 — updates
The cat, not the update, is the unexpected part. He’s at the vet now, until tomorrow. He is a he. His face is indeed messed up. The tissue covering his lower jaw was almost completely torn away. One vet guy said it might have been an old wound, while another said it could have just gotten infected very quickly (it’s pus-infested and reeks to high heaven). He is only running a slight fever (as assessed by the usual uncomfortable method), and one vet said this is a fairly common kind of wound. I note he didn’t say it’s easy to fix.
The vet (Dr. Garza, in Edinburg; I’ve visited him before, and he seems to do a fine job) said that they would probably use something like stainless-steel wire to sew the flesh that used to cover his chin back where it should be, anchored in place by wrapping it around his lower fangs. Weird, and Franken-cool. I’m massively relieved that something is being done by someone who knows what to do. I guess he’s my cat for about 2 weeks, while his face attempts to heal (no word on how likely that is). I’m actively seeking another owner. He’s not my cat. I keep repeating that, like a mantra.
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Annual Kitten Report
September 9th, 2008 — updates
September 2006: Dexter. Backyard. Persistent. Adopted.
September 2007: Moses. Weeds at reservoir. Loud and fearless.
September 2008: Unnamed cat from campus. Grotesquely wounded.
He’s in the cat carrier, now. I’m off to the vet in a few minutes. My friend was showing me the cute, sociable kitten on campus, when he decided to do a Superman-type thing and landed face-first on concrete. He tore open his lower lip/face. It stopped bleeding soon, and he’s behaved pretty normally since then. No vets were open last night (except the $150-for-the-consultation-fee emergency service), but one told me on the phone he’d probably be all right. And sure enough he slept pretty much 13 solid hours, then at 7:00 began to destroy my bathroom.
No pictures, because his face looks… kinda horrific. But he is one of the yellow/orange stripey type cats. Maybe 8 to 12 weeks old? Young.
Hm. He’s stopped meowing. That won’t last once we get into the car.
I seriously do not go looking for these beasts, and stuff like this hasn’t happened between the Septembers. Sadly, I will not be keeping this little monster, either, even if (as I hope) he turns out healthy and not very seriously hurt. Two cats is enough.
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Accidental Poetry & Hellboy 2 review
July 23rd, 2008 — photos, thoughts, updates
unrelated Moses picture
So I was websurfing, looking for Pixies tabs, when I stumbled across the following, in a bass tab for “Isla de la Encanta”:
You really should be abel
to tell when to play what.
Is that not some awesome stuff? It’s unintentionally haiku-esque. It’s profound. It’s just plain good advice. I especially like the (probably also unintentional, but still cool) alternate spelling of “able.” The line break is even in the original!
In other news, Alex and I saw Hellboy 2 last night.
Review: meh. sokay. 2 1/2 stars (out of 4).
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Shamelessly Shilling. With Kittens.
June 27th, 2008 — photos
Sometimes one’s cat accidentally advertises one’s wife’s upcoming play.
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My cat is awesome
June 20th, 2008 — photos
My cat rocks. His little brother rocks too (but in a much more… blond… way). But Dexter is just awesome. This is one of his favorite things: snuggling under the blankets to cuddle with his humans. What kind of cat does that? :D This kind of affection almost negates his insane, neverending, house-destroying quest for food.
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Sunday Kittypic - captions requested
April 13th, 2008 — photos
You, in the front row. You’re from Wapakoneta? Interesting.
It’s Sunday morning. Do I have important things to do? Heowz yeh. Am I doing them? Nah. I’m posting a picture of my cat to the interwebs.
Here are my suggested captions1 (which are kind of weak):
1. Anvilaniaaaaaaa2
2. …and what’s with Hillary? I guarantee *she* has some feline ancestry, am I right? Am I? ooh, tough crowd.
3. when nine hundred years old you reach, cough up less phlegm you will not
4. Is vomitz in cup 2 sta pretti
- note: “invisible microphone” and “invisible ice cream cone” are kind of obvious and not very funny, don’t you think? [↩]
- only funny for Animaniacs nerds [↩]
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not so good at this professor thing
April 9th, 2008 — updates
After many months, I just received word from my first grad school advisor (my relationship with whom has never been untroubled anyway) that the article I wrote and sent him is not suitable for publication. He cites several reasons, some of which I agree with, and some I don’t, and I still want to think that the work that went into this can be salvaged somehow, but his name is on the manuscript next to mine, and I can’t really just cut him out of the process. Plus, he’s a very good professional resource, and he still indicates he’s willing to collaborate or help out in other ways, which is nice…
So, that’s flat-out-rejection #2. I know rejections come with the territory, but they’re highly demoralizing. When other researchers talk about developing “rhino skin” from all the critical comments, I think they refer to articles that are potentially accepted, if the criticisms are fixed. So far, my batting average is .000
blarg.
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Sometimes traveling works out.
January 11th, 2008 — photos, updates
Back in Texas. The travel was nearly uneventful. The events were happy ones. In Detroit I just barely made it onto my next flight. And got an entire exit row to myself. My ride (Craig & Melinda) showed up to take me home, and we chatted a bit. My house is relatively clean, and I just ate the delicious sandwich I made back in Hamilton with the last of the Thai-seasoned chicken. With some leftover gouda still in my fridge. I will soon check to see if there is any ice cream in the fridge. I have a suspicion.
The phone messages were a nonevent. That’s nice. The mail, however… it filled the box. Rejections from UNCG (polite) and Dickinson (short and summary). Pie of the Month Club update from Sue Anne (Nesselrode Pie - I think I’ll try it sometime). Late gifts for Jason (music) and Alex (now it’s a birthday present). Bills. Mountains of junk. Latest edition of Analog (just finished reading the last one on the plane today).
Being home is wonderful in many ways. Yes, I already miss my wife and my cats. And my social life (which, spotty as it is, is pretty much all in Hamilton). But being home is a bit of bliss. My stuff is all handy. My couch has a back. My TV has stereo sound. My job is waiting. Sigh. I think I’ll bask in the homeness of it all for a day or two. Then get all frazzled with work again.
Oh. And church is now at 1:00. Do not want.
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Christmas Newsletter 2007
December 20th, 2007 — Uncategorized
Another year has come and gone, and here I am writing another online Christmas letter to everyone instead of sending cards like considerate people do. Oh well. I married Alex so she could compensate for such deficits in my personality. (Note: Since writing this, I have migrated my photos to Flickr, so the photo links are all broken. Maybe I’ll fix them, someday).
Here’s how this newsletter works (feel free to skip sections that do not interest you):
- Christmas Message
- Things that have happened this year.
Note that you can click the text links or the pictures for extra information. Clicking names of places usually takes you to a map. Clicking pictures will take you to the large version of the picture. Pictures will open in a separate browser window.
Confused? Just click some stuff and see what happens.
Christmas Message
As most of you know, Alex and I are Christian, so Merry Christmas! But if you’re celebrating Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Pagan Winter Feast, or just Many Days Off Work, we wish you fondest and warmest times, as well.
In Algonguin, no one can hear you smirk
So, Happy Holidays. If you’re reading this, we love you. Lots.
Year In Review
We were not exactly being very serious here
5 minutes from my house, almost at the freeway
Winter and Spring
Alex in Newfoundland
Night of the Iguana, with Amanda and Alex!
Green Room for Good Night Desdemona, Good Morning Juliet
At the end of Spring, I flew up to Canada (as is my wont), breathed a huge sigh of relief, and settled in for a summer of teaching and hanging out with my wife–something I’m not taking for granted, quite yet (give me another year or two…).
Summer
Alex and Darrin: Oilers!
We both enjoyed our academic work (I was teaching an online class and doing research; Alex was still slaving away on the dissertation), and enjoyed just being around each other. We even played some hockey, which was a definite first for me. Good times.
Alex and John, celebrating their No-Goodery
The last half of the summer was a crazy round of travel. We spent a week at Alex’s parents’ lovely cottage, about 3 hours north of Toronto, with our friends Amanda, Scott and Brad, as well as Alex’s brothers, sister, their significant others, her in-laws, niece and nephews, and parents. It was a wonderful time, and it’s hard not to fill this entire page with photos from that experience. While we were there, we played disc golf (hooray!) at a course in South River, and spent a day paddling a canoe in Algonquin Park. I’d go back in a second.
We are wildness [people]!
it's like when you see an ant carrying an entire leaf
don't look... he's totally taking our picture. I said don't look!
pose like a poseur
Scott and Lisha, together at last!
Sharon and her little boy. And her little fetus.
your human powers are useless here.
snuggly and breathless at 9,000 feet
llama, llama, there's a llama...
I miss you guys. really.
As you might have guessed, after the Colorado-Washington-Idaho trip, it was back to Ontario, whirlwind unpacking-then-packing, and down to Texas to start the school year once again, and lose my wife for another semester.
Fall
cheesy, I know... but *I* took this one!
yet somehow the beach muggers missed us
Go Down, Moses
Red-Tail Hawk on the way to South Padre
Edinburg in the afternoon... really, not as small as it appears here
Cerro de la Silla (Saddle Hill) from near Monterrey Tech campus
Alex and I are on the job market, and it’s an unpleasant experience. Academic politics are active, sometimes irritating, and often confusing. I’m reminded of my father, quoting Napoleon, telling me not to assume malice when incompetence is the more likely answer… We don’t know if Alex will get the job she has applied for at UTPA (where I work), or if we will both be offered jobs at one of the half-dozen places we both applied to, together. I love my work, but I’ll give it up if I can be with my wife. If none of our plans pan out, we’ll be thinking fast. Plan C might be a bit creative. We’ll have to wait and see.
It’s the winter holiday season, now, and that has always been a time to try to reconnect with family and friends I don’t talk to very much. I’ve always been terrible at keeping lines of communication open, so I hope you’ll forgive me for the generic flavor of this message, and know that I still care about you. Happy Holidays.
Christmas Monk is angry
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Where is my cat?
November 9th, 2007 — Uncategorized
Yes, that is what you, astute reader, should be asking yourself right this minute. The answer is “in the other room, drying off.” Why? Because I peed on him. Yes, I urinated on my cat.
It was not my fault. He has developed some tear-around-the-house-at-high-speeds habits lately. So, when I lifted the seat and took a wizz - after closing the bathroom door incompletely, as it turned out - this little yellow fuzzball jumped up on the toilet (apparently believing it would have a lid on it, as it does when he practices athletic high-speed kittening all day when I’m at work). Somehow he avoided falling in, but he did not avoid getting his head entering the, um, stream.
So the next step was to catch him (tearing off at high speed) before he contaminated any more of my house, rinse off his head, and put him in the back bedroom. Stupid cat.
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New, previously-undiscovered forms of procrastination
November 5th, 2007 — Uncategorized
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October 22nd, 2007 — Uncategorized
Sign in the parking lot of a Big Cat zoo in Spokane
Student: Dr. Rogers, do you enjoy being evil?
Me: I’m not evil!
Student: Okay, then do you enjoy being… whatever you are?
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Monterrey. Missing my cats. Both of them.
September 30th, 2007 — Uncategorized
today Basic Instructions had a wonderful post about cats (sort of). Click the excerpt above for the full joyfulness, with 3 more amazing panels.
and yesterday I finalized the getting of a kitten. Coincidence? I think not.
Know what else? I’m part of a delegation. Seriously. I’ve never been part of one of those before. I’m in Monterrey (Mexico), and it looks pretty cool so far. I’ll be back to Texas just in time to see Alex on Wednesday. Yessss!
And I miss my new kitty. Also Dexter, whom I never see anymore :(. Oh well. He is loved, and taken good care of. That’s important.