fortunate

Most of my most avid readers (all....3 of you?) already know the main events of the past few days. But, it's time that the full story be released. The ending is a happy one, but the 2 days leading up to it were some of the worst I've experienced in a long time.

Our story starts on Sunday morning. Well, in fact, I guess the story starts nearly nine years ago in October of 2001, when I first met a certain teeny tiny kitty. These past few days I've become really aware of everything that the two of us have been through. It's fun to count the states, schools, apartments, roommates we've shared. But more importantly are the life events. She's been with me through my graduation from college, when I was scared to enter the "real world" (little did Iknow that 8 years later and I'd still have never entered it!). She was there when my college boyfriend and I broke up and I didn't leave the house for 2 weeks. She was there when I started working in Boston and hated it. She was there when I fell in love with working in Boston. She was there when I tearfully packed up my life and moved to Texas for graduate school. She was there through Bentley, and Princess. She was there when my grandmother died. She was always there. For nine years, perhaps my most consistent friend has been Mia.


Her Escape
Sunday morning I woke up late. My first thought was, "wow Mia, thank you!" because normally she's whining for breakfast much earlier than that. When I emerged from my room I noticed that RO'D's bedroom door was slightly ajar, but it's normally been closed since he's gone this month. I went in there to scold Mia - she loves being in his room, but also loves hacking up hairballs in there. Needless to say RO'D is less than a fan of the latter. When I went in, I saw that the back door to the outside was wide open. Panic set in instantly, but I didn't know why right away. Where was Mia? Did someone break in? Was someone still in Ryan's room? Without thinking I took off into the back yard, hoping to see Mia, if she was there. With no immediate sign of her, I went back in to ask C-dogg when she last went out there (and to assess the possibility of a stranger having been or still being in our house). Saturday afternoon was her answer. We were on the move - searched the house for Mia, and then hit the outdoors. We roamed through the yard, and took of in opposite directions around the neighborhood. It was on my second lap, when I started to think about the last time I saw Mia (Saturday night around 8pm) panic really set in. Panic, but not logic. I had no idea what to do.

Our Search
Back inside, we made the dining room table our operation central. After a quick facebook post - mostly asking for advice on what to do - I googled "what to do when you lose your cat", and read a few things. C-dogg and I headed out again, this time with proper shoes, contacts in, and other under garment necessities. Still, nothing. Back to operations central, I was faced with the task of making a flyer. This nearly killed me - describing Mia to make signs to post about her being gone.

In retrospect, these first searches were crap. We barely looked anywhere - we just walked. I roamed. I was so unsure of what to do. After a small break, to get myself together, we had a plan. We posted the flyers directly on the doors of surrounding houses. Then we hit nearby hot spots - major intersections, bus stops, coffee shops and churches. Further internet reading let me know that we really needed to scour every hiding spot, as Mia was likely hiding scared and would not answer our calls. This is when I realized, our neighborhood is a cat HEAVEN. Every yard has a shed, with space under it. Every foundation has a hole to under the house. Every backyard is a veritable old car grave yard. Perfect for your freaked out kitty - horrid for her freaked out owner.

That afternoon, we checked under sheds, in bushes, under cars, through fences, and under houses. Then I called animal control. They told me which animal shelter stray cats are directed to, and I went down there to talk to them. It was about this time that the skies opened up for the first time - pouring rain, thunder and lightning. At first I was sad for Mia, how scary. But shortly there after I was very glad for the rain. It meant she was getting water - which was a big concern to me. Sunday was hot. I got a pretty painful sunburn from 4 hours of searching for Mia.

The internets also told us to surround the house with her scent, and with our scent, to entice her back. We put one of her blankets and a toy on the back porch, along with a bowl of food. We put her litter box and another bowl of food on the front porch. We then hung up some of my dirty smelly unwashed running clothes at both the back and front of the house. So yes, our house smelled great!!

After dark, we went out on another Mia search, armed with flashlights. Everyone told me she'd be likely to come out at night - and the flashlights could catch her eyes. On this, and subsequent searches, we located every stray in the neighborhood - something like 11 different cats were found. 11 non-Mia cats. Sunday night I was beside myself. What if she never came back? Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she nearby? How would she find us? We decided to leave the back door ajar, and I slept in RO'D's room. Just in case. Sleep is a loose term - there wasn't much of it. As cliche as it sounds, everytime I closed my eyes I saw her. And I'd get up and look out the back door. How was I supposed to sleep with Mia out there somewhere? It was the worst.
Monday morning, C-Dogg and I did a morning hunt. This time I wore what would become my Mia-Huntin' Outfit. Black and white baseball socks pulled up to my knees, a pirate bandana, carrying a towel and a flashlight. The towel allowed us to lay down on the ground and really get under everything. We went around back, through neighboring yards, and around the block. Searching as best we could every hiding spot. During one search a friend and I carried chairs around, this allowed me to easily hop over every fence in the neighborhood. We'd drop one chair over the fence, and I could leap from chair to chair. These searches took about 40 minutes for each loop, and I was going about 4 times a day. In between I was trying to hold it together, but would lose it for about 2 hours after each search. Where was she? Was she alive? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she close? Could she see me?

Her Return

Monday evening had me feeling pretty hopeless. I was happy for everyone's concern and help, but if one more person asked me "are you sure she is not in the house?" I was seriously going to lose it. I appreciate the helplessness most of my friends felt, but yes - 2 days later and I was sure she was not in the house.

I sat in the living room Monday night, doing work, watching tv, until about 11pm. At that point I headed back into RO'Ds room. I went back out into the living room to grab my computer power cord, which is when it happened. The motion sensor light on the porch turned on. It ALWAYS turns on. Every car that drives down the street turns it on. But, there was no car. It was like a spot light on a dark fluffy tail. A dark fluffy tail that was very close to Mia's litter box. Again, cliche, I know, I just KNEW it was her, and I was overcome with such excitement that I threw open the door and gasped, MIA? And whatever it was, was gone. Off faster than a bolt of lightning, into the darkness. I ran to RO'Ds to get my flashlight (yes, I was sleeping with my flashlight), and ran back out the frontdoor. This commotion had C-dogg up, and we were both out looking and calling for Mia. Here's where I lost it. I just began crying so hard. I wasn't even sure if it was her, but it felt like her. And here I had scared her away. I'm such an IDIOT. C-dogg had a different perspective. It was likely her - the strays do not come on our porch, nor would they go near her litter box. Which meant, she was close, and wanting to come back. She assured me she would be back and we should wait some more.

It was now that I assumed my "father of a teenage daughter" position. I opened the front door, I turned off every light, and I turned the chair around to face the front door and window. And I sat there. Starring out the window, clutching my flashlight.

It's then that I heard the most horrendous cat fight I'd ever heard. Screw you strays, do not even think about touching my Mia. I was out the door and running down the street, 11:30pm, barefoot, with a flashlight. About 5 houses down I found the cats making the noise. Two cats, up a tree in someones front yard, fighting. Neither of them Mia. Damnit. I took off running home, as I had left my post and was sure to have missed her.

Back in my chair, I waited. And then. There she was. I saw all of her, in the light of the porch, she was there. I was slow, I was quiet. I made my way to the door encouraging her "Mia, come in Mia". By the time I'd made it to the door to look out on the porch, she was gone! And, of course, I hadn't seen where she'd gone. I bust into C-Dogg's room screaming "SHE'S NOT DEAD!" And I cried all over again. This was it, she was close. We looked again, but dang if Mia is not a persistent hider. C-dogg suggested that we try to wait again, and the next time she was on the porch I should text message C-dogg, who would go out the back door and come around front. I was to watch Mia.

Come on Mia, what do you want, a signed invitation, GET INSIDE THIS HOUSE!

So I sat, my finger on the "send" button with a text to C-dogg. When I hear C-dogg herself saying "she's at the back door". The wha? She's...huh...the back door? I go into RO'Ds room, and the back door is wide open, and C-dogg is about 7 feet from it saying "Mia, come home Mia" and I'm thinking, is it her? Is she there? Is C-dogg just being hopeful? But I get the sense that something very important is happening. So, I crawl around the corner of RO'Ds bed, and I see her. She's in the doorway. She's moving slowly, looking all around. So now I start too, "Mia, come here Mia!" but, quiet. And gentle. and slow. She's inching in, and I'm using every ounce of my concentration to not move towards her. She clears the door, but isn't close enough to grab yet. C-dogg reaches over the bed and slowly, quietly shuts the door behind Mia.

WHOA-MAMA, this sets Mia off. She's off on a full sprint, out of RO'Ds room, down the hallway, headed straight for the....

OPEN FRONT DOOR.

I'm consumed with two thoughts: 1.) do not freak her out. 2.) do not let her out of the house. Thankfully the second one wins, as I take off after her, scream MIA!!! NO!!! Leap over her, and body slam the door shut.

Mia flattens herself against the ground and hisses at me. At this point, C-dogg and I collapse onto the ground, and I cry my eyes out again. We instantly got her food, but she brushed past it, walking through the house, rubbing up on everything, and finding every plastic bag she could to lick. The we both sat in the middle of the house, mostly unable to let her out of our sight. She seemed dirty, but healthy.

She and I slept

in my bed that night, and I've never been more happy. A quick trip to the vet in the morning confirmed that she is a-ok, and then the groomer made her clean - and furless. She was covered in so many burrs and twigs that it was just better to shave her fur all off.

Since then, she'll stare out at

the back yard - now called AdventureLand - and I ask her, "where were you Mia?" But she still hasn't told me.

oh, and now, she wears a collar.

Good Kitteh

Last we left Mia, she was struggling through some bad behavior. She had peed twice outside the litter box. My yelling seemed to do the trick, as she made it to the litter box the next time. However, even after her return to the litter box, she managed to poo NOT IN THE LITTER BOX. Oh man, I was angry. I again treated her like a dog. There was a lot of yelling, and face smushing in (near...near! I'm not going to clean poop off my cat) the poop, and repeated times of putting her on the litter box. She'd also lost all bedroom privileges at that point. Bedroom privileges are like gold to her - it cuts out most of her window sills, and any view of the back yard, which is by far the most interesting yard too look at. It also cuts out her direct sunbeams for much of the day.

It seemed that this worked, since she resumed peeing in the litter box. She peed 4 times in fact. Four times, and not one poo, anywhere. In order to entice her into the bathroom I sprinkled some catnip into the litter box. I was nervous. This was going to be the game-decider. If she used the litter box, we were still on. If she didn't - I was calling it quits.

Last night, she decided to get back in line, and she used the bathroom appropriately. She was lavished with treats and praise. And we continue to practice Stage 1, hoping someday soon to move up in the world of Kitty Potty Training.

Bad Kitteh

Yesterday marked Day 8. The end of the week was similar to the beginning. She'd use the litter box in the early morning, things seemed ok. I was debating staying at stage 1 for another week, just so she could get used to it a bit better. But then, yesterday happened. It was monster cleaning day in our house, which always makes her a little skittish. She doesn't love when I'm in one room moving all the furniture around, so she travels through the house staying either ahead or behind me. She also hates the vacuum. When it was time to clean the bedroom she had been laying on this bag on my floor. She got up to run to another room, and there it was. She'd peed right on the bag. MIA! I was mad, so I treated her like a dog. I picked her up and yelled at her, I put her face in (ok, NEAR) the pee, and then I brought her right to her litter box.

This morning, much like every morning, she's been whining. I sat with her, I petted her, I played with her, I talked to her. And how does she repay me?! She peed ON MY BED! My bed! Again, I scolded her. And then I immediately put my sheets in the washing machine. I quickly grabbed some baking soda and piled it on my mattress and began searching the internet for some cleaning tips. Wouldn't you know, baking soda is the first in most lists.

Now, I'm unsure of how to proceed. I'm supposed to be patient, right?! I'm supposed to give her a chance, right?! We'll see what the rest of this week brings. But two accidents in two days - this is not very Mia-like.

Kitteh Potty Training - Stage 1

*Updated Daily

We opened up the CitiKitty and began our training on Sunday and not Friday. It seemed that Friday ended up not being the best night, and I was going to be gone all day on Saturday, that Sunday really worked ideally for our schedule.

Stage 1 is to put the full liner into the toilet seat, full with litter, and let Mia get used to climbing up to the toilet to go. She can stand in the liner, it'll flex a little, but will support her. The flexing will encourage her to use the seat for balance. We are supposed to stay at this stage for a full accident free week, but I may modify this and stay at this stage until she's back to a somewhat regular usage. I fear that she may only go 3 times in this first week, and I'm not sure that's exactly enough to graduate to stage 2.

I know everyone has been reminding me that we need lots of pictures, but I haven't yet actually caught her in the act. When I do, there will be pictures for sure. For now, all I can do is take pictures of the empty (or full, if you really want that) litter box. And we wait!

Day 1 (Sunday): I was much more excited than she was as I filled the emptied the old litter box and put it away. I got out the CitiKitty, and placed in under the toilet seat. After filling it with litter, I quickly grabbed Mia and put her on it. You know, to show her. She leaped off pretty quickly. She spent the rest of the day not going anywhere near the bathroom. I decided, that was fine for day 1.

Day 2 (Monday): Ugh, this morning Mia was WHINING. I mean, more than her normal whining. She was just roaming around the house whining. It was about 6am, so I moved from my bed out to the couch (because she seemed to prefer the living room) and I slept there for a bit to keep her company. I woke up on the couch at 7:30, and when I passed by the bathroom I realized that she had used the litter box. Yay for cat pee! I cleaned it out, and I showered her with treats - in the bathroom of course. And I felt proud of my talented kitty.

When I returned home Monday evening, I was even more proud to find some cat poo in the toilet litter box as well! Nicely done, Mia, nicely done. We celebrated with more bathroom treats.

Day 3 (Tuesday): Again, with the whining in the morning. I can be tolerant of this for a bit, because I've just totally rearranged her life, but she'll have to get used to it at some point. When I woke up, there was nothing in the litter box. I kept checking back frequently, and one time I went into the bathroom she was there - and bolted out. I noticed that she hadn't gone yet and began to feel guilty that I had interrupted. The guilt subsided as soon as I saw the wet spot on the bathroom rug. MIA! You peed on the rug?! I scolded her appropriately - which included yelling at her and putting her near her pee spot. And then I put her in her litter box. She was displeased, and I was off to do some laundry.

So, I guess we call that accident #1. Really, I'm pleased she picked the bathroom to have her accident in. I've been wondering if we'll need to search the whole house looking for these presents. I did not return the bath rug to the bathroom, hoping that with no soft surface to use, she will get back up on her litter box. When I returned home, nothing. I went out that night, and when I got back much later, still nothing.

Day 4 (Wednesday): I woke up to a normal amount of whining, which just means "feed me", and decided to go check the bathroom situation at that point. Boy am I glad I did. She had used it - twice. And, as a good roommate, it needed to be cleaned immediately (so that the roommate wouldn't have to deal with this when she woke up to go to the bathroom). We again celebrated with bathroom treats, and I cleaned out the litter. We'll see what's waiting for me when I get home.

Day 5 (Thursday): My goodness, the whining. It's non-stop. I couldn't handle it so I went out to investigate around 6:15. She hadn't used the litter box since Wednesday morning. So, I joined her on the couch. When she's whiny like that, she really has no desire to come in to my room, and she seems quieter if I'm around. I had been on the couch for maybe 20 minutes when I heard a small scrambling in the bathroom - nothing major, but some litter being kicked around. I rushed in, and sure enough, she'd peed. She was being un-whiny, so I went back to bed. I think I heard her in there again, so I got up to check, and sure enough, she'd done the deed.

I set out to clean the litter. Now, there is one thing I haven't been honest about - and that's her aim. It's not great. She's gotten poo both on the floor and on the toilet seat just about each time. So the litter cleaning routine goes something like - grab the paper towels, a sponge and lysol. Scoop poop and pee-litter into a small plastic bag, replace with some new litter. Disinfect the floor, and the toilet seat, and the sink. Throw the plastic bag and paper towels in the dumpster outside. This morning when I stepped out to throw the bag away, Mia poked her head out on the porch. I saw her looking around and wondered if she was thinking "Hey, there doesn't seem to be a litter box perched inside a toilet out here, maybe I should make a break for it."

The aim, I expect, will get better. I've not yet SEEN her use the toilet, so I don't know how she stands on it, but as we remove rings from the inside, she'll be forced more to the outside. I think she'll get the hang of it. We're just in day 5, so I'm going to stick with it. I think she's doing great - but I know she's not loving it. Hopefully, in a few more days, she'll forget about the time she didn't have to jump up on the potty to go!

everybody poops

And cats too! The thing is, with a cat, you've gotta do something about it. I'm getting tired of the litter box cycle. The constant scooping, and changing. The litter that gets out of the box, the smell (although, I seem to be immune to it my roommate seems to think it's unpleasant). Mia has always been a gem about the litter box - in the whole 8.5 years I've had her she's only not used the litter box twice. Once when she was 11 weeks old, and I moved it to a new location and forgot to show her where. She ended up peeing on the floor where the litter box used to be. (Sorry baby, you tried so hard!) The other time was when we were in DC, so she was about 1 and a half, and she was accidentally locked in my roommates room while we were all out for the night. Oops. Again, my fault.

I've had conversations with fellow cat owners whose kittehs are pretty demanding over everything litter-box related. Some people have to scoop daily (or twice daily). Some people have to clean the thing completely once a week. Some people can not just up and change the type of litter without a protest. Others have to fear the vengeance of their bad kittehs, who will purposefully not use the litter box in protest of some other travesty. Not Miss Mia, she goes in that box no matter how full it is, how long since it's been cleaned completely, whether I've been home for 5 days straight or gone for a week. I can use a different type of litter everyday and she wouldn't care. I could move the litter box to a new location every hour and she'd find it and go. I'm lucky. We're lucky!

I'm about to push our luck. I've been thinking for a while how great it would be if Mia could use the toilet. No more smelly box, no more dirty litter. No more scooping, no more changing. Mia gets a bad rep as a mean cat - sometimes it prevents people from wanting to come take care of her. She's not mean, she's a big ol' fraidy cat - who has learned to hiss and swat to protect herself. That, and she's a touch moody! But, how wonderful would it be to cat sit a cat who doesn't need a litter box?!

It arrived yesterday, our toilet training kit. I've read through the directions. Basically you are at each step until you can make it through one week accident-free. In preparation, today I moved the litter box back in to the bathroom. Tomorrow night, I will set up the contraption. It's basically a pan that sits under the seat, and gets filled with some litter (and catnip if needed!). Roommate is out of town from Saturday to Tuesday, so this gives us a few days to experiment, and determine the extent of the "accidents". If she can master the litter pan on the toilet, then we start removing small pieces from the center - creating larger and larger openings. This will teach her to use the toilet seat to stand on.

My predictions. If this doesn't work, it will be because she refuses to go to the bathroom at all. Also, I'm setting the over-under at 6 for the number of times we forget to remove the litter pan before peeing in the middle of the night. Place your bets.

basketcase

I was nervous to come back from my vacation to a cat who was angry and neglected.  I had no idea I should expect her to be a complete nutjob.  On the one hand, she has continued to sleep on my bed - a fact aided, I think, by the addition of my old comforter.  It's been cold here at night, and I've dragged out an old, fluffier comforter for the bed.  She's perfectly content snuggling up to that at night, and I'm perfectly happy to take whatever I can get!

On the other hand, she's displaying some anxiety problems.  The last time she displayed significant signs of anxiety was right after Princess (my roommates cat) was put to sleep, and those symptoms re-emerged shortly thereafter, when our entire apartment was packed up and Stacey had moved out.  At that time Mia sulked around and hid intently under Stacey's bed, for hours and hours at a time.  I remember that Stacey kind of gave up and just started talking to Mia and telling her that it was going to be ok, that Princess had been sick and she was much happier now.  Stacey told Mia that Princess hadn't done anything wrong, and that nothing was going to happen to Mia.  It was then that Mia came out from under Stacey's bed.  

For about a week Mia has been covering her food bowl with her blanket when she walks away from it.  I noticed this habit slowly, sometimes I thought that the blanket ended up there accidentally, it is usually on the floor near where the food bowl goes.  But, one day I watched it happen.  Mia eats in shifts.  She nibbles, takes a break, comes back for more.  The entire process can take the entire evening for her to eat about 3 oz. of food.  She had just finished her first little nosh-fest and she walked over to the blanket, pawed at it a few times, gripped it in her paw, and dragged it on top of her food dish.  At first, I was just amazed...WHAT?!  So A bit later I pulled it off, and she came back for more food after that.  When I looked back next, the dish was again covered.  So this cycle continued, and I kept removing the blanket, placing it further and further away from the dish each time.  And she continually covered up the dish when she was done eating.  I, of course, made fun of her and took pictures, but after 2 days of this I began to get concerned.  I decided to take the blanket into another room for a while.  And then, I broke out Stacey's style of therapy, and I began talking to her.  We had a heart-to-heart (or so I think), and since then, the blanket has been returned and has remained off the dish.  We're out of the woods....

...for now.

sending out an s.o.s.

could someone please tell the cat to get out of the damn bathtub and eat something, she stopped listening to me weeks ago!

UPDATE: While you are at it, can you also tell her I'm sick of playing "how many places can I hide a hairball", and that I know it was her that turned off my alarm clock three days ago!

with too many cats

You know that old lady, the one who lives alone, up the street,with too many cats. She's crazy - or at least that's what you and the rest of your 13-year-old friends call her. In reality, she likely knows what is going on, but maybe she doesn't agree with it, or chooses to ignore it. She's not crazy, she's just in a different time. In a different place. But, you call her crazy, because she lives alone, with too many cats. You know her. In 50 years, I hope not to be her!

But, in the last two months, I had a glimpse. I was the crazy-cat-lady.

Mia and I went on a plane, twice. And she was great. It was me - I was the disaster. I was the spectacle. I was the crazy-cat-lady. When we left Austin, I put her in her carrier and she complained minimally. She tried to push her way out - this picture was her actually putting her small paw up against the mesh of the bag, and whining. Whimpering. Pulling at my heart strings. Whispering - "You're a bad mom". She stopped relatively quickly, because I'm a bad mom and I ignored her. In the car on the way to the airport, not a peep. I pulled her out through security - silent. The security guard even commented on her well-manneredness.

While waiting in the airport I tried to sit in quiet areas, and I tried to talk to her a lot. As Stace pointed out - most people probably didn't know there was a cat in that fashionable bag of mine, and I was the crazy-lady-talking-to-a-bag to most. I ensured that I could pre-board the flight (you know along with people who have legitimate mobility problems and small screaming children). When pre-board was announced, there I was, the crazy-cat-lady, the only one pre-boarding. Families with children were sitting and waiting, while I was rushing down the jetway to the plane. I crawled around the floor of the plane situating her comfortably under the seat, talking to her all the while.

On the flight up, we shared a row with no one. So after take off Mia got her own seat, and I opened the carrier enough to fit my hand in and pet her - while I tried to sleep. She didn't like take off, or landing - who can blame her. But she suffered in silence. As is a cats way, she drooled a lot. I had to ask for copious amounts of paper towels, and I kept talking to the bag, so eventually the flight attendant said to me "What's in here anyway?" I told her it was my cat and she said "Ohhhh! Kitty!" but had this look of relief, figuring out I wasn't insane - maybe.

I think the low-point occurred while I was waiting at Logan for my flight home. My parents were waiting with me, all of us sitting to eat a little and drink coffee (them, not me) and I needed to use the restroom. I left Mia in her bag with my parents and took my purse and went to the restroom. On the way....I talked to my purse. I did. I forgot it wasn't Mia. And I actually spoke to my pocketbook. Crazy-lady-talking-to-a-bag, with too many cats.

merry and bright....

looking for Santa...

looking for presents...
Merry Christmas from Mia and me!

...and many more

Today is somebody's birthday! The big 0-6. We've been through a lot in the past 6 years, haven't we honey? Let's see - we've lived in 4 states (Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Maryland, and Texas), 8 cities (Worcester, Westerly, Silver Spring, Brookline, Waltham, Newton, Watertown, and Austin), been to 4 institutions of higher learning (Clark University, American University, Boston University and the University of Texas at Austin), worked in 4 different labs (the Jacobson lab, the Fantie lab, the Stern lab, and the Fischl lab), had 10 different roommates (Therese, Emily and Zainab; Mom and Dad; Anne and Maggie; Katie and Suzanne; Stacey), 5 different cat roommates (Bentley, Mr. Bojangles, Princess, Pepper and Oliver), owned three cars (Marv, Tibby, and this one with no name). In fact, in the last 6 years I can think of nothing that has remained the same - at all - except that you've been with me. Thanks for that, I guess I'll keep you! Happy birthday, punk!



It's also somebody else's birthday too, the big 3-1! Happy Birthday, dudeizzle!

these eyes will break hearts!