Thirty-Two

Thirty-two years ago on this same day, I put on my handmade imitation Gunne Sax dress and my Famolare wave-bottom sandals and lined up under the bleachers at the football stadium while I waited for Pomp and Circumstance to play. I was part of the 1978 graduating class at Vintage Senior High School in Napa, California.

My mom made the dress, copying those at the store that just didn't fit. That dress was special to me. So much so that I still have it today. I just can't bring myself to give it away. (Secretly I hope one of my girls will want to wear it someday.)

Between our morning practice and our evening commencement, I practiced walking in those 4-inch tall heels. (Mine were just like these, but white. I liked the shoes, but I guess they weren't as special as the dress. I didn't hang on to them all these years!) Of course, walking on carpet is easier than walking on bumpy grass, but gladly there are no mishaps to report.

Do kids still dress up under their cap and gown? I don't know. But I do know that the event is as special to them as it was to me. Tonight, my nephew is graduating with Bothell High School Class of 2010. Congratulations, Caleb!

On a side note, I have another graduation of my own to report. It's been about thirty-two minutes (at least from when I started writing), since I mastered the last of my Farmville crops. Hooray, and congratulations to me!

They will probably introduce new crops soon, and I'll have to go back to farming to keep up my status. Kind of like continuing education credits.

Kitty heaven

We learned a lot about kittens in the last two days. Things like they have to be warm enough to eat or they can't digest the food. Warm enough is more than 98 degrees. They have to eat 10ml of formula every two hours when they're three weeks old. If you don't already have the formula, you can make some out of egg yolks, mayonnaise, canned milk, and unflavored gelatin. And you can use the syringe left over from the kids' antibiotic to feed the kitten, if you can get him to open his mouth. Next time we see a pregnant cat, we're going to buy the formula and the bottle because by the time you find out the kittens need it, there isn't time to go to the store and buy it.

But after all we learned, we were unable to save the last two kittens. We think Mama cat didn't have enough milk for them. She kept leaving them alone so they didn't stay warm enough. Did they get too cold to eat? Or was there something else wrong with them that she could see and we couldn't? Who knows.

Kevin says, "Skye was a bad mama and she let her kittens die."

Dad responds, "You know, those kittens have a spirit mama in heaven, and she's probably happy to see them. And we hope they learned to like people while they were here."

And then there were two...

Mama cats are supposed to know how to take care of their kittens. It's instinct, right? But sometimes, it makes no sense what she's trying to do.

For the first week, she was happy to leave the kittens in the box. Then one day, they're gone. We found them in Sarah's closet. We put them back in the box. Next day, same thing. Now Sarah keeps her door shut.

One night, I'm sitting on the couch. Mama cat brings a baby and drops it in my lap. Hmmm. You want them in the living room? We'll bring the box here. All is well for a couple of days. Then Sarah left her door open, and we found kittens under her dresser. She doesn't like them in there, so we put them back in the box and keep a better vigil on the door.

"The living room isn't private enough," David says, and moves the box into our bedroom, to his side of the bed. That worked for a few days, but then again, no kittens in the box. We found them in the back of the closet, behind the clothes hanging on the lower rod. You like the closet? We'll move the box into the closet. Keeps the kittens corralled, and we know they're safer that way.

Another day, more missing kittens. This time they've been hauled downstairs to the bathroom cupboard where we keep the towels. We move kittens back to the box, she moves them back to the bathroom. (The litter box is in that bathroom.) She even figured out how to get the door open to get the kittens in there. But it's not safe because they're getting big enough to move around, and they could fall off the top shelf. Mama cat doesn't realize this, but we do.

Then today. All four kittens are in the box when the kids and I leave for school. Half an hour later, when David leaves for work, he finds one kitten behind the clothes and puts it back in the box. After school and work and a trip to Costco, we get back home about 6:45. Always one kid or another goes to look at the kittens. Today it was Lexi and David. No kittens in the box. David finds them in the back of the closet, under the clothes. He pulls them out, and two of them have died. We don't understand what Mama cat was thinking, but we suspect the kittens tried to crawl away, got caught in the clothes, and suffocated.

So now there are two. And it's a sad day.

Mother's Day Kittens

About a month ago, I got a call from the mom of Lexi’s friend, Olivia. They were moving to a new house where they couldn’t keep all their pets. Lexi really liked Skye, their kitten, when she was visiting, and Olivia would like to give her to us. Would that be okay? Sure, I say. We’ll give it a try. If she gets along with our other cat, she can stay.

David meets the cat that first day and says to me, “You brought home a pregnant cat.” He’s sure; I’m not. Some times she just looks fluffy because she has long hair. Sometimes, she looks very round.

Well, the cat – who is closer to full grown than kitten – makes peace with Frank, but doesn’t like the idea of going outside to the bathroom and uses the dining room floor instead. I’m about ready to send the cat to a new house where they’re okay with a litter box, but do I give her back to Olivia or on to someone else?

I talked to the mom last Friday. I’m going to try one more thing to see if I can teach her to go outside, but if she won’t learn, she’ll have to leave. They said they would take her back.

Then first thing Sunday morning Lexi comes running upstairs, “Skye has a kitten!” You’re kidding, I say. No, I’m not kidding she says. Sure enough, the cat is in her closet with one little gray kitten. David looks into the situation, says there’s more cats there. Maybe the mom isn’t feeding the baby. Maybe we’ll have to do something about it when we get back from church. Do you know a vet that’s open on Sunday?

We come home. Still one kitten, but it seems to be eating. Mom cat is still making those funny purring noises. Hmmm… Maybe we’ll do something about it tomorrow.

About 11pm, Lexi comes out. I can’t sleep, she says. Skye keeps getting out of the box. The baby starts to cry. I have to put Skye back in the box. Can I sleep somewhere else?

First thing in the morning, before kids are awake, I go check out the situation. If all is not well, I didn’t want the kids to find it first. It’s already a full day, but if I have to, I’ll squeeze in a trip to the vet. Surprise, surprise. There are three more kittens, and one of them is white! Skye, the proud mama, is looking so much more comfortable now.

So there you have it. The tale of the Mother’s Day kittens.

Can I do this?

Being an accountant, you'd think I was great at keeping records. Well, some records, yes. Most, not so good. My checkbook receipts usually pile up for about three months before I tally them up. I've got piles of photos, but not a single scrapbook. I used to be really good at journaling, but then I got a busier life (by adding a husband and three kids), and nothing gets recorded.

So, here's my attempt to do it all just a little bit better.