gritty kitty

So.

It may be the evil clumping cat litter we're using. For real. According to some holistic vets, the betonite clay can be toxic for kittens, producing symptoms of unexplained diarrhea, anemia, vomiting, and others. Rose has suffered from all three. I'm out to buy the non-clay stuff tomorrow, and we're adding slipepry elm to her diet for a while. Keep your fingers crossed. Tata and I are excited to have a theory, at last, of what the hell is making Rose so sick. I'll keep you posted.

And don't rely on me for info - do a little search yourself and see what you think.

shitty kitty

Rose - our intense little needy kitty - has pretty dramatic and predictable food sensitivities, it appears. She is very lactose intolerant. And did you know that most non-toxic dry cat foods contain dairy and/or natural flavors of undisclosed origin? We really have to fix up kitty's gut so she can be healthy and get spayed; her red blood cell count is low, although not quite anemic. The theory is that this is from chronic diahrrea from worms [which have been treated], food changes, and eating foods that make her sick. Bummer is that we were feeding her a food that had dried yogurt in it, which of course made her sick. And she chews plant bits from plants that will definitely make her sick, i.e. the spider plant and the pencil cactus. We are working on making the sickness-inducing plants inaccessible to her, and we've begun feeding her easy-to-digest food from the vet, but she will take a lick of the raw milk-containing coffee sludge in a mug on the kitchen table when we are out of the room and then have runny poo for 12 hours. Which has really sucked, because her poop was just normal cat poo from the time she returned from the vet's office for observation on Friday night until this morning.

I'm learning a lot with this one. And I also learned that after a cat has been wormed, you may not ever see dead worms in her poop. Turns out the dead worms often become food, and are digested before eliminated. Like the Onion said, "Like boxes of shit in your house? Get a cat!" [slinks off to find the link or at least a reference...thanks to my neighbor for pointing me to such a delightful quote]

time

I have these next few hours to myself. At home, a rare occasion. So I can form most of a complete thought, read a book, bathe, do nothing if I choose.

I am remembering time, the utter profusion of time - before breakfast, at work, at home on the weekend, at night. Time with no constraints, without limit. Time of quiet, of raucous joy, of no children, of work-related exhaustion. A time far away, so lost as to be forgotten and strange in its structureless abundance: there is only doing for me there, the petty and urgent concerns of relationship, and food, and income. During my days now I wonder how I had so many opportunities for pursuing whatever the damn hell I wanted, whenever I needed. A time when exhaustion had a beginning and end, was not a way of life. When demands also had limit, did not push me with their living breath and human needs for touch, love, reassurance, precious bonds. When I could talk all morning to whomever I chose, walk as fast and as far as I'd like, in snow and rain and clear sun and know the time of my body in motion, in time.

Having had quite a life before children, with Chris, I feel both grateful for so many selfish years and awed that they existed at all. And the tricky thing is that even though I did appreciate how rare my privilege was then, it has created in me the continued need for private space, for thinking, for the pleasant and earned silences of the near-forty. Not to mention the choice ecstatic experiences of the near-forty, as well.

And now I do succumb to days of self-pity and loss, days of great anticipation for nights without nursing, comforting, nursing the sad and scared. And that's OK, it's how life goes for Mama in the beginning years of spent patience and longing. Maybe that's how it goes for you, too. If so, take my electronic hand and hug me through the ether. The day is already 20 minutes shorter, possessed less of itself than with the return of others, hand in hand, in the tired snow.

We have a new kitten, but I can't post pics here for some godforsaken reason, and I'm too busy and tired to learn why, so you'll just have to imagine what she looks like. Her name is Rose and she is about 5 months old now and cute and busy and gray with tabby stripes and a tail tip that's oh, dusty rose. The girls are simply in love, and we like her too. Except her runny shit, which happens several hours after she scavenges anything off the floor, table, chairs or rugs. She is especially and exceptionally lactose intolerant. I am so done with the smell of runny cat shit.

In other news, Pearl just got taller and she's talking everyone's ears off. In sentences and paragraphs, no less. My amazing 2.5 year old continues to amaze friends and strangers alike in her communication abilities. She loves the kitty, too, but hasn't learned how to be careful yet. This makes for many interesting comments from me: "We don't pull the kitty by her fur, honey"; "No petting the kitty with your feet!"; "Kitties don't like to be pushed from the top of the stairs. They can get really hurt and then you can't play with her any more" etc. etc. I never thought I'd have to deal with typical 2yo behavior, but guess I can now join the ranks of the crazy-moms-who-ineffectively-resort-to yelling-more-than-they'd-like-to-admit crowd.

And I am in need of some good musical suggestions. Please share yours with me!

And it's frightfully cold and beautiful here tonight. Wind chill is supposed to get down to about 40 below 0. I love Wisconsin.