Meowsings on a Cat

My grandcat is sick. Poor Tuxie has come down with a common male cat ailment. He has a blockage that is keeping his bladder from draining. It is called FUS which rhymes with you know what and requires that a big FUSS be made to get him well. Enough poetic wandering...


Tux and his little sister Skittles came to live with us in 2007. As they often say about cats, you don't adopt them, they adopt you. It had been a sad, hectic summer. Erin had moved out, my cat Sam had died at Christmas and I was getting ready to start a new job. I was really depressed that summer and I really wanted another cat. Ken was adamant, "NO CATS"! and I really planned to respect that wish. But secretly I kept praying that God would send me a cat.

One evening in July or so Ken told me to look out the back window. There on our garden bench were two little black furballs and a mama cat, just hangin' out in the evening sun. I was thrilled! I went out to our deck and as soon as the little family saw me, the shot back into the soy bean field behind our house. That was the beginning of our being adopted. Every night from then on, I would go out into our backyard and sit in a lawn chair. The first night three sets of little eyes peeked out at me from the protection of the soybean jungle. I talked to them, mewed at them (no neighbors at the time to think I was crazy) and did my best to convince them that I was friendly. Using my deductive reasoning, I assumed that they must be hungry since they lived in the field. I wasn't thinking that they were hunters and predators. I began to take hot dogs and other scraps of meat out to them and would toss the food to them to entice them to come out of the jungle. Each evening they came closer and closer. I began buying dog food to feed them because it was cheaper than cat food and more filling I reasoned. Erin came home in August and by September or October, Tux, the little boy, would come close enough to pet. I would put the food by my chair and he would come to eat. As he ate, I would slowly reach down and pet him while he ate. Skittles, the tiny girl, wouldn't come close to eat and mama wouldn't come out of the jungle. By and by, Tux began to trust us and one night he let me pick him up!



Meanwhile, I began to learn about feral cats. Ferals are cats that are generally born in the wild or are abandoned and become wild. Most of the time they live in colonies and scavenge for food. In cities they live near dumpsters most of the time. In rural areas they find safe areas to congregate. Left unchecked a feral colony in-breeds and quickly multiply and can become a nuisance. Illness, predators and injury often take these kitties over time. There is a movement called T-N-R or Trap-Neuter-Release. The process involves trapping the kitty, having him neutered or spayed and then releasing it back into the colony. Neutered feral cats are very territorial and will not let new cats into the colony. Usually someone or a group of someones adopts the colony and provides food, water and shelter. Most feral cats cannot be socialized because they are too wild If you get them as kittens sometimes you can tame them. The national group is called Alley Cat Allies (http://www.alleycat.org/NetCommunity/Page.aspx?pid=191). Our local group is Friends of Felines (http://www.felinefriendsks.com/).



As I have digressed anyway, let me tell you a little story about FOF. Ray, the founder, went out to Syracuse to rescue some kitties on May 4, 2007. He filled his trailer with 27 cats to be neutered and relocated. As he drove home to Wichita it began to storm. Pulling into Greensburg he ran into hail so pulled in under an awning to wait out the storm. He didn't know that he was in the direct path of the massive tornado that leveled Greensburg that night. Ray, his truck, his trailer and the 27 ferals took a tumble. The truck and trailer were destroyed, Ray was injured and the 27 kitties died. Ray and friends were able to go back to Syracuse later that year to TNR the rest of the colony and brought them back to Wichita for relocation.

In the fall of 07 I attended two feral cat workshops and learned how to trap feral cats. My intent was to TNR both of our kittens and release them. By this time, Mama had disappeared and I haven't seen her since. In early December we borrowed a trap from the Humane Society and set out to see who we could catch. The first night we caught an opossum. That was fun. The next night we caught an opossum. You'd think he would've learned! The third night we caught Tux. I took him down to the Humane Society and had him neutered. Erin had moved into her own apartment by this time and she fell in love with Tux and decided to take him home with her. They are now inseparable. I have never seen a cat so intently loyal to its human. He looks at her with adoration and I really believe he understands everything she says to him.



That was the year of the big ice storm in Manhattan. Ken got called up to Manhattan to help put things back together. I was totally alone for a week or more. It was cold outside. It snowed. My little Skittles, named so because she skittled away from me when I came near, was outside, cold and alone. By now I was feeding her at the back door and she knew my voice. Whenever I set food out, she'd come running. Well, I reasoned, she's cold and Ken's gone. In she came. And she never went out again. Ken now says that he should've never gone away because look what I drug in. He isn't happy, but hey, he loves me.

Erin came home and Tux came with her and we are now a 2 cat family. Tux is a lover boy and Skittles is sweet only to me. They are both terrified of sudden movement or sudden noise. When company comes, they hide. Tux is still the braver of the two and at 17 lbs he is the larger of the two. Skittles is my prissy little girl. She weighs less than 10 lbs and her favorite past time is sleeping. I love my cat and I know that God answered my prayer and sent my little angel to me.



Just got a call from the cat doc. Tux is doing well but will have to stay one or two more nights. I hear cash register bells ringing. Erin will pay us back when she's able. Meanwhile, the VISA bill and Ken's impatience are going up.



Oh well, they adopted us!


UPDATE!!!!!!!

Tux came home Wednesday night and is doing great. We need to feed him a special diet but he should be just fine.

Mystery Tour

The Emma Chase

Last Friday, the Man of the Place (aka Ken) came home from his meeting in Lawrence. I asked him what he wanted to do that night, as I usually do on Friday nights and presented him with the Go section of the paper. He kind of looked through it and then told me that it was time to go. I hastily changed my shirt and shoes and off we went.

Now, from early in our marriage on, Ken has taken me on "mystery tours". We have gone to Dallas for dinner, a casino by Topeka and most famously, he took the girls to get a windshield fixed. They've never let him forget that one! Mystery Tours are always fun once we get there but the trip drives me crazy because it is so out of my control and worse--unplanned! I am completly out of my comfort zone and Ken knows it!

We headed east on highway 254. Aha I thought, we are going to PF Changs to use the gift card we got at Christmas but then, we passed Greenwich road and kept going east. Well, I knew that the restaurant at the Benton Antique Mall was out because it closed and I couldn't think of any place in El Dorado that would be worth the drive. Then I supposed that we might be going to Augusta to find the school that I was interviewing at on Tuesday. But, we didn't stay on 96. Once we got on the turnpike I guessed that we were going to Cassoday so I told Ken that I didn't think the cafe there was open for dinner. His response--"well, we will just have to see". We did get off at the Cassoday/Matfield Green exit but instead of going south, we turned north.

The drive up 177 is beautiful. To me, it is what Kansas is supposed to look like and the closest to what the pioneers probably saw. There are rolling hills and breath taking vistas. In some places, you can see for miles. The road takes you through the tiny whistle stop town of Matfield Green where train enthusiasts come to watch the 60+ trains that roar through town every day. Along the way are beautiful ranch homes and falling down buildings from the hey dey of the cattle and rail industry in the area.

After awhile, we pulled into Cottonwood Falls. Now, I was assuming that we were going to Council Grove to the Hays House as I have said several times that I would like to go there. But, we ended up on Main street at the Emnma Chase Cafe. Now I don't know who Emma Chase is or if she is a real person and that bugs me. I like to know the history of a place. But whoever she is, her cafe has some of the best pie and chicken fry I have ever eaten.

I wasn't sure about the place when we walked in. It is a small storefront with folding tables set up around the room. Some of them have table cloths and others didn't. As soon as the door opened it was like there was this long pause in conversation as all eyes turned to us to see if we were friends or strangers. Once the curiosity was satisfied, all returned to eating and we found a table and sat down. I don't know about you but I am used to having a menu placed in my hands when I go to a restaurant. I've only been to a couple of sit down places where you didn't have a printed menu. One was in Lousisana and had 3 choices...ham, ham or ham. The other was Chateau Briand and after eating at that place, Ken had to go home and get more money from his dad so we could go to prom. At the Emma, there's a marker board. Catfish is always on the menu and on Friday there were 3 or 4 other choices. I played it safe and got the chicken fried steak and ice tea. The tea was served in a quart sized mason jar which never needed a refill. Presently another 3-some came in and they were obviously from somewhere else. I thought they were German but found out later that they were Swiss. The woman was very agitated. First she was upset that there wasn't beer, then she was upset that there weren't more menu choices. Finally she was upset because the advertised music wasn't in the restaurant (more on that later) but down the street in the Emma hall. She never sat down! Well, that's an exaggeration but she never sat down for long. Her companions wolfed down their dinners and off they went down the street.

As I said earlier, the food was awesome. The steak was not frozen. It was fresh and hand breaded and I assume pan fried. I got rhubarb pie. I love pie crust anyway but this crust was flaky, crisp and wonderful.

After dinner we strolled down the block to find the music. We discovered it in a beautiful old limestone building. Cottonwood Falls was the "Limestone Capitol of Kansas" at one time so many of the buildings are built using limestone. The theme for that night was Old Timey Gospel. At the front of the room there were about 15 older people playing guitars, dobros, harmonicas, violins, pianos and a string bass. An elderly man was at the mic singing a song before an audience seated on wooden chairs. My first thought was "oh my-a whole evening of this?" But I quickly became enchanted with the harmony and enthusiasm of these amatuer musicians who come together to sing just for the love of music. They really didn't lack talent and any lack of intonation was made up for in sincerity. Soon I was tapping my toes and singing along. Around 9 we decided we had to head home and the music was beginning to wind down anyway.

Our drive home through the Flint Hills was punctuated by the field burning going on across the hillside.

All in all, it was a delightful, magical mystery tour. Thank you honey!