Wednesday night

A few random things:
http://xkcd.com/369/

So once the Fool got out of the hospital last week, we thought we were done with Bad and Inconvenient Things.
Then Angus had a serious and dramatic lapse in litterbox habits that not only required me to use a flashlight to look for cat poop in Jamie's room where he was sleeping, but caused Angus to take a trip to the vet this week.
The vet explained that cats who venture outside their litterboxes in the dramatic manner that Angus did (and I'm sparing you all the gory details, but let me just say if you're ever in my living room, sit on the couch, not the armchair) are generally not ill with any kind of kidney infection, nor are they making a comment about the condition of their litterbox. Instead, he theorized that Angus is suffering anxiety about something, and is generally upset.
The vet suggested I go to the pet store and get some of this cat pheromone spray and spritz that around the house liberally to improve feelings of feline well-being (kind of like lavender for people, maybe?) and put out another litterbox, and if that doesn't work, then we can take Angus to an animal behaviorist he recommended (cat shrink) or try drugs (cat Prozac.) Sigh.
I really hope the spray works.
Then, because he felt better over the weekend, the Fool decided to tackle some household projects. He oiled our deck furniture with linseed oil and threw the rags out. I forgot - and the Fool never knew - that linseed-oil soaked rags spontaneously combust if you wad them up and put them in a closed container. When we returned home Sunday night from a contra dance I called at, the house reeked and I suddenly remembered about the rags. Jamie wanted to nurse himself to sleep, and after we determined there were no leaping flames, I went to settle the kid down, and the Fool continued the search accompanied by inadequate narrative, so I had to stage whisper questions from the bedroom.

ME: What is on fire? Is anything on fire?
FOOL: Sort of.
ME: Sort of? What is sort of on fire?
FOOL: Well, it's not really a fire. It's just sort of ... smoldery.
ME: Not really a fire!?! Is it a fake fire?!
FOOL: It's OK. Mostly.
ME: ?!?!?!

The lidded kitchen garbage can that I felt so smug about buying, because it locks and keeps Jamie out of the trash, is on time-out in the yard until I can figure out how to wash the sticky oily smoke residue off the inside of the lid.
And you should all be warned: Linseed oil soaked rags are flammable.

I've been knitting, too. I finished the Fool's socks from Vintage Knitted Socks. These are with a Dutch heel and a wide toe, made from Opal Hundertwasser yarn.


View of Dutch heel from the bottom.

I wanted something without a lot of fancy knitting going on, so the giant expanses of stockinette were just what the yarn needed.


It's finally cooling off here, so Jamie can wear the sweater his dad knit for him last spring when we were in Seattle. It's a Dale of Norway pattern, which I could go look up if I hadn't gone biking with Jamie today and made my legs tired. I don't know what to make of this picture. He looks really mature for a kid in a frog sweater.


p.s. I found the bratwurst. The package had slipped down behind some other things in the freezer. Thawed, simmered in beer and onions, ate. Delicious.

Comments

anne marie in philly said…
handsome young man! in a handsome handmade sweater!

to the fool and angus - get well soon, both of you!
cat lover carol said…
I used the pheromone plug in recently to help with a feral cat I adopted. It took a while but it has helped. I used it only half a day because if I left it longer at first her crying increased. Also, another cat I have began to act rather drunk. He's already mellow so I guess it really mellowed him out.
Anonymous said…
Oh my gosh, I hate to say this, but your little boy is starting to show the ahem, boy in him. I always hated those glimpses of mine, when the baby started to go away and you could see the boy there for a minute. This will sound odd, but be glad for those "nurse to sleep" times. I sure miss them, and it sure beats reading Scooby Doo and the Haunted Tiki for the 147th time.
Susan D said…
Hmmm...I think you may want to get some waterproof slipcovers for the furniture, just in case Angus has a relapse -- or for when Jamie starts spilling beer on the couch. (Such a mature-looking young fellow!.) Regardless, I'll keep my fingers crossed that the pheromones solve the Angus problem.
kate said…
The pheromone spray will work for a while but you will be hard pressed to know exactly what upsets your cat beyond the litter box, and anxiety usually grows if you don't catch it early on. About 10 years ago our anxiety ridden cat completely lost it after a diffiecult transistion to our current home and he has spent the last 10 years on a very low dose of Buspirone, kitty Prozac if you will. Fabulous stuff - and our vet had it suspended into a gel so we could simply rub the dose on his ears each night (use the gloves, trust me!). Voila, one happy relaxed cat who doesn't "mark" the furniture!
Good luck!

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