Sweet baby James...

Four years ago today, we buried our Sweet Baby James under the cedar tree, with the other cats who have shared our life: Taffy, Muffin, Tigger, Annie, and Phoebe. It broke my heart to lose this sweet cat, who slept between our pillows at night, purred whenever she saw either of us, and nothing made her happier than to sit on our laps. I will love her forever.

James

Jamie, affectionately known as James (also James-the-cat, Blondie, and Honey Bunny), departed this life today. Of all the wonderful, funny, affectionate cats who have shared our life over the decades, she is the one I will miss the most. She adopted us the summer of 2003 as a young cat, moved right into our house and into our hearts, and I can't believe she's gone. She was too young, and I feel cheated... I wanted more time with her.

Goodbye, James. I will love you forever.

Eating me out of house and home...

The vet prescribed an appetite stimulant a couple of weeks ago, and James has already gained more than a pound. That doesn't sound like much, but for a cat who had dropped below 5 pounds, it's a pretty big deal. Another couple of pounds, and we'll all be pretty happy.

James the cat

Tonight I crawled into bed with my camera and a field guide to my camera, and played around with focusing options. I needed a subject, and since James had just settled down on the bed, she was it.

Before I was done fiddling with all the settings, I got the "what the heck is that" look, then the skeptical look, then the "what was that bright light?" look, then the "I'm closing my eyes and going to sleep" look. All those cat expressions... don't you love them?

She eats...

And she sleeps.

That's my cat.

What cats do...

Do you ever wonder what your cat gets into when you're not looking?  It scares me more than a little, when I see what she does right under my nose!

This morning I had just settled down on the sofa for my first cup of tea, and James jumped up, made a beeline for Dave's mug and took a long drink. Yikes... best not leave any water containers within her reach anymore!

I grabbed my camera but missed the money shot, my cat with her head buried in the mug. Doesn't she just look self-satisfied?

Kittie cousins...

While we took a fly fishing road trip, James took a little trip of her own: to visit my sister and brother-in-law and their young cats. She came home to us today, when we all gathered together for one last meal before our Aussie niece and her boyfriend flew home.

When we walked in, James was napping on the sofa with our nephew, Jeff. And she looked completely happy and comfortable there, with a human hand in reach if she wanted some love.

My sister's cats are female litter mates, one orange and white who looks a lot like James, the other a calico. They are adorable and fun, and after nearly three weeks, still a bit wary of James (and vice versa).

As we fixed a raft of different pizzas for dinner I kept an eye on my own orange cat, and at one point she disappeared. I looked everywhere, and finally glanced into the windows beyond the claw-footed tub and spotted her. She'd climbed into a basket on the windowsill, ignoring the larger James-sized basket, instead squeezing into a basket half her size.

Cat on the deck

From the time she first adopted us, James has been a cabin cat, loving the travel in the truck, hiding at the end of the weekend so she doesn't have to leave. She curls up on our bed, sniffs at open windows, prowls at night, always inside. It never seemed fair that she couldn't enjoy being outside with us, but there have always been dogs around, not to mention families of raccoons, so wandering freely was never an option.

This weekend we decided to initiate her into the world of the cabin deck. We found an old cat harness from a previous cat, and to her great dismay, slid her into it and adjusted it to fit.

For security, we snapped on a retractable lead, and settled her down in Dave's lap. She fussed a bit, then settled down with a big sigh, and started to purr.

She checked out the deck, and we reeled her in when she got too close to the edge. But when we brought out her brown fleece "bucket," she climbed in and didn't move for hours. Even when the rest of the family arrived the next morning, with everyone coming and going, she slept quietly away in the middle of the chaos.

Random thoughts

It's hard to not be at the cabin on such a hot day, the lake always in view, cool and inviting. We're heading into a long warm, dry season, with no rain in sight. And the only place I want to be is at the lake.

So I turned my back on such thoughts, and concentrated on getting ready for the next cabin weekend. The laundry is finished, and I've repacked the lake box. It was nice in the basement, at least 15 degrees cooler.

We're talking about getting a pair of kayaks for the lake, a way to get out on the water solo. We could also fly fish from a kayak, instead of climbing into waders and boots and launching our float tubes. It would be fun to take them on road trips, too... maybe try out the lakes on the Cascade Lakes Scenic Byway near Mt. Bachelor. We've been there several times the past few decades, and the lakes are so beautiful they just beg you to come and explore... perfect for a kayak.

I've been in size 12 jeans and shorts for a month now, and today I bought a pair of size 10 jeans. It's the first time I've been this size for a couple of decades, and it sure feels good.

James, our aging blond cat, is feeling pretty good, too. There's a new spring in her step, and she can get up on the sofa without a footstool. I caught her trotting down the stairs the other day; this cat who has been stiff and arthritic for several years now, is moving like a cat half her age. Still, these hot days encourage her to do only one thing... sleep.

My cat is deaf

James, my dear, sweet American Shorthair cat, has gone deaf. We didn't notice at first; she's always been very good at ignoring anything she wants to, at any time. But she kept disappearing into odd corners of the house and howling, something she's never done before. And it finally dawned on me: she howls because she can't hear herself... and maybe if she cries loudly enough, she'll be able to hear. It breaks my heart.

So life at home has changed. I still call her name, expecting her to lift her head and look at me. That's one habit I'm sure I won't be able to shake. I talk to my cats, always have.

It's been three months now, and she's gotten used to her deafness. She always knows when it's dinnertime (I don't have to call her now), and she puts herself to bed every night. And thank goodness, she no longer startles me by howling from the far reaches of the farmhouse.

And she's still my beautiful James.

Socks and cats

Socks have always been a favorite thing of mine, right up there with soft, cozy sweaters. I think it's part and parcel with my love for fall. Each year, I can hardly wait until the heat of summer has passed, so I can pack away my shorts and tank tops, and make room for my sweaters. And even though I go barefoot as much as possible during the summer, my sock drawer never gets packed away. My favorites get mended, and I wear them until there's no saving them. (Thanks, Mom, for teaching me how to darn socks.)

I love all kinds of socks. Stripes and argyle, tweed and plaid, polka dots and flowers, cotton and wool and chenille. Even reindeer and Santa Clause and snowflake socks for winter.



My big blond cat loves socks as much as I do. But she's more of a plain vanilla kind of cat: she prefers Dave's plain cotton socks to my wild patterns. If I'm folding clothes, or packing a suitcase, if socks are involved, she's there. She'll reach out and snag the socks and pull them close, then she'll take a nap right in the middle

Blond cats

James is our big American Shorthair cat, and contrary to what you may think, James is a girl cat. When James wandered into our lives, I was listening to the country singer, Jamie O'Neill. Since both had hair with lots of shades of blond, I named our new cat Jamie. It was inevitably shortened to James, but she also answers to Blondie to or Blond Cat.

As long as you rub her tummy when she asks, this cat is content. Here she is, interrupting a session of folding clothes by putting herself smack in the middle, and making sure she's the center of attention. Cats do this so very well...

Should Cats Have Web Pages?

I've given this a lot of thought lately, as I see more and more cats (and dogs and horses) with their own facebook pages. What sort of animal would qualify for such an honor? I decided to tell you about my own cat and let you decide.

We've always shared our home with at least one cat. And in all the years, and with all the cats who've come and gone, this one is very special for one simple reason: she is the perfect house cat.

James is a huge American Shorthair. And contrary to what you might think, James is a girl. She started out as Jamie, because when she first started hanging around the farmhouse, my favorite singer was Jamie O'Neil. Both had the same gorgeous blond hair, so it seemed to fit. Before long we were calling her James for short, and it suits her.
















James is a rather large presence in our lives, but she doesn't have any particular skills. She sleeps quite well, but not on my lap... ever. She runs for the bedroom whenever anyone walks in that general direction, and hops up on the bed hoping for a tummy rub (this gets her locked in the bedroom on a regular basis).

James has her own basket of soft toys, and will help herself when she wants to play. A small ball with long feathers is one of her favorites; I step on it quite often because although James can fetch her own toys, she is incapable of putting them back in the basket. (I don't know of any cats who are, so this should not be held against her.)

Although James won't sit on my lap, she does beg to sit on the arm of my favorite chair, where she leans her entire weight against me, looks up at me with her eyes half open, and purrs loudly enough to be heard in the next room. She can stay there for hours, or until my arm goes to sleep. James is not what you'd call an athletic cat. Jumping up on the furniture is a challenge, so I bought a footstool that she can step up onto. She'll sit there until she's invited to curl up on the chair. Impeccible manners.

Unlike most cats who scream and howl at the mere sight of a car, James loves to ride in the car. As soon as we're on the road, I let her out of her crate, and she'll sit on my lap and look out the window. I'm not sure what she sees out there, but it keeps her occupied.

James has never killed a mouse or a Christmas tree ornament. She doesn't scratch furniture or rugs... or me. She doesn't walk across the computer keyboard while I'm working, or bite me when I'm not paying enough attention to her. She eats and sleeps just like all the other cats in the world. But it's how she does what she does that makes her unique.