Tracker, age between 15 and 18, to kidney failure. Nothing they can do. So we’re headed to the vet’s in a few minutes. Very sad day here. This is one of the two we brought from Jane’s sister’s place.
We’ve lost one of the kitties.
by CJ | Sep 10, 2018 | Journal | 49 comments
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Hugs for you and Jane and the kitties.
(It’s always hard to have one leave. But that’s a cat who’s lived long and well, and has earned a rest. Mine – we don’t know what it was, but she was half her normal weight and sitting in that hunched-up “I hurt” position. Also about 16 at the time – though we were never sure.)
Very sorry for your loss. I’ve outlived several kitties and always took comfort that I did the very best for them, all being rescue cats.
He passed peacefully, without pain. It was sudden, crashing kidney failure—he has had UTI issues before, and had one on the 2000 mile drive to get him here from Chicago area. He will have a place in the garden. Now we have to take measures to get his brother Tanner acclimated to the household. Tanner has not been separated from Tracker since they were kittened, and he is going to be quite lost tonight. We have got a safe kennel for him to be in, upstairs, a new bed, new litter pan, and some Feliway and catnip for Sei and Shu, who I hope will be mannerly.
So sorry to hear you’ve lost Tracker so soon after getting him home safe, and acclimated to his new situation. Especially for Tanner, needing to make this new adjustment. I do hope Sei and Shu will be nice to him, and let him find comfort with you and them!
That says it all right there. You did your best for Tanner and Tracker, and it was just ‘that time’ for Tracker.
There’s a mess o’ storms this month; the worst one seems to be Florence taking a bead on the Carolinas. Good thoughts to all the salads in that neck of the woods. We’re eyeballing Olivia, but it’s slowly degrading, the windward side of the island will be getting the worst of it, and we have Haleakala between us and the brunt until it gets to this side. Mountain vs. tropical storm; my money’s on the volcano.
I hope Tanner will do fine with Shu and Sei tonight. Poor little guy. So sorry for Tracker’s loss. It is always rough, whether they’ve been part of the family a long time or recent. But integrating Tanner is a must now, too. Better for them all to be a crew, a family.
Smokey is still sort of on probation, but I am not going to give him away, despite being so aggravated at him recently. I consider that an uncharacteristic weakness on my part, and a sign that my temper and my general mood had become too at-risk and isolate. So perhaps it was good in the long run, to give me a wakeup call. Not sure he hasn’t done it again elsewhere, but…well, I also think the other night and my reassessment (of me and of him) burnt out my temper for a while. So things are once again copasetic on that front.
Smokey will be 8 at the end of this year.
Goober has probably exceeded his actual birthdate, but I count it from when I got him, which will be 12 years at the end of October. He is as gentlemanly and mild as ever, and if he makes it past 13, he will be the most senior kitty I’ve ever had, outlasting my previous two.
Both are still in good health, as far as I can tell, and I’m glad and fortunate to have them for companions. They are family and yet their own alien-Earthling little beings.
Cats and dogs both are special in that way, not human yet their own unique kind, and welcome for it.
Best Wishes for all of you, humans and felines (and canines) alike.
Aie. Sorry to hear it, for you and for poor Tanner. Here’s hoping the adjustment goes well.
Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that you have lost Tracker. Poor Tanner is going to feel very lonely also. Condolences to him too, however one expresses that to a cat.
Sending lots of love to you all.
Never mind the reason, saying goodbye is always hard. I lost my baby girl Stormie to kidney failure, which hit her hard and fast, too. My heart goes out to Tanner, who has lost his dear companion. I hope the boys will be kind to him. Never let anyone tell you animals don’t pine. They do, just the same as we do. Hopefully, he will cling to you two as the most familiar thing in his world now, and that will help. Hugs all round.
Tanner is the reserved twin: his brother did all the schmoozing and socializing. Tanner flees any attempt to pick him up, though he loves chin skritches. During our few days at Lynn’s, trying to put her estate in order, Tanner would flit out and then flee to somewhere. We put out food and night and it disappeared, but no Tanner. We thought we might have to stay until we found him, but as things went into boxes, it was getting harder and harder to think where he could be. We finally located him in the tiny cabinet over the refrigerator, where he had found one refuge not being turned inside out. I had one chance to grab him, and had to be fairly rough holding onto him while getting down from the ladder. At that point we had them both, and were able to take to the road, but he was not a happy lad on the trip, just not wanting to be confined.
Now, alas, he is stuck in a 6′ circular canvas and mesh kennel in our kitchen, and he gets petted, which comforts him, but our cats have to pass him to get to their litter box…and they are not actively fighting with him, after the first hiss-spit, but it is going to be a long week.
He cries a lot. Breaks our hearts. But this morning he was glad for me to put my hand into the kennel and give him a lengthy petting, so perhaps we can settle him down. He has Lynn’s little teddy bear for company in a soft bed he took to, so he has a place to cuddle into. He’s eating normally, so that is good.
It’s, as with a human in his situation, just going to take time and patience, and our two boys are being fairly civilized about it.
I have so many memories of my kitties over my lifetime, my very first memory is of a cat. They are such wonderful friends. Sad time for you, take care.
Also. (I was born into a family that had a three-month-old kitten; I’ve always known my place. That’s the first cat in my memory, but nowhere near the last, and there were other cats that I still remember, living with other relatives.)
Seeing each other with a mesh separation to allow for smelling and talking and body language should help. Would it work to try Tanner with Seishi first?
(I see I need to look up -chan or -kun; IIRC, -chan would be for a cute little kid, and -kun would fit a big kid more toward teen and adult, but still a term of endearment. And I’m unclear on the connotations behind the word.)
We’re in for heavy rain all the rest of the week and somewhat into next week, due to Hurricane Florence and other storms in the Gulf, and that is halfway across the continent and in the Atlantic, and about to make landfall if it hasn’t already. Our temps may dip below 70 for the first time this season, next week. Our highs are not quite up to 90, officially. A good, soaking rain will not hurt us here any. It’s gonna be rough in North and South Carolina.
My two cats are settled in, napping and in the room with me. I’m doing laundry; the dryer vent is still unresolved, but maybe next week. Cleanup is ongoing, in between working diligently on fonts, which is going mostly great, only a couple of hiccups, and a couple of things to look up how to do.
Such sad news. So very sorry! At least it seems to have been quick for Tracker, and without pain. The pain is for the two of you and Tanner. Much sympathy for all of you. Good that Tanner is eating, and accepting a little petting, and that Shu and Sei are being polite; that sounds hopeful for the future!
Tanner is settling—he’s got an appetite, and while he’s vocal, he’s stopped that frantic hour upon hour of calling, and is being much calmer—he’s not fond of the round kennel, but he’s safe there and findable (he’s a real artist at hiding and changing his hiding place to go back to where you’ve already searched.) Since tomorrow we have people coming redo the basement windows, meaning we are going to have men digging window wells and our basement windows missing for bit, it would not be a good time for Tanner to be out and about.
You’ve lost one, and I’ve gained a visitor. I’ve been seeing a blue-eyed Flame Point Siamese (can’t exactly be sure about that last, but he does have blue eyes (if that’s not a given in even cross-bred Flame Points)) hunting voles around my rhododendron shade house in the back yard; apparently successfully though I can’t be sure. But we finally got some rain, a drippy week. Not saying that’s the end of nice weather until July here on the wet side of the Cascades, but he’s welcome to come back any time!
First few times I saw him, from considerable distance, I couldn’t see feet and tail, so I began calling him “Dirty Face”. Not like any self-respecting cat, I know, but that’s what I saw.
The interloper kitten has been caught and brought to the Humane Society. He was disrupting the ecosystem; every time our Three Stooges saw him, there was a hiss-fest. They even disappeared for a week, which was very concerning. Now Little Brother and Froofy are back, and we have had Spot sightings, so things are returning to normal on that front.
Slightly off topic but related: my lost little chicken came back home tonight, and I’m quite relieved even though she’s managed fine on her own, exploring all the gardens and public greenery for at least 100 yards around for five days.
I’ve had 3 Dutch Bantam hens in my back garden for 6-7 years, and they’ve never flown over the fence.
This year the oldest 2 died and as a chicken doesn’t like being solitary, I phoned the local petting zoo and asked if Snowwhite (the remaining white hen, named by the little neighbor girl) could go and live with their flock.
They already had too many chickens, they said, only one of which was a bantam, and she was a nuisance because she was small enough to get out under their fences. So I picked up their little brown hen, the 4 year old neighbor boy named her Flatfoot (for the baby dino), and I put her in my back garden.
Snowwhite scolded her and she hid, but the next evening I saw her eating the grain I’d scattered for her – when she saw me watching she hid again. After that I didn’t see her for a few days, until neighbors started talking about a chicken flying around in their gardens. It turned out this little bantam could easily fly up to 3 meters high, over all our fences, and was much too skittish and too good at hiding as well as flying to let herself be caught. I asked animal rescue organisations about trapping her, but they only trap cats. I put up notices, saying if anyone noticed her falling asleep to call me.
Tonight someone came to my door: she’d walked into his house, calm as you please, ahead of his two year old who was walking after her saying “bird, bird”, pointing at a shoe in the hall. Dad said “No, that’s a shoe”, then noticed there *was* a bird in the shoe, and he could just pick her up.
So she’s had some flight feathers snipped, and from now until spring will be confined to the roofed and fenced run and the night coop, instead of having the run of the garden. Hopefully by then she’ll know her home is here.
One good result of her big adventure; Snowwhite seems to have accepted her back with friendly murmurs instead of scoldings.
As for me, I hope to finally get a solid night’s sleep again, now the prodigal is home and safe.
I hope things went well with your basement windows!
So what is your new bantam’s name?
Flatfoot, though it’s not very apt regarding her feet. But she is a modern relative of the dinos, so in that sense the name little Tim gave her *is* apt – she is named after his favorite cartoon dino.
She appears to be settling in fine, now.
I grew up around chickens on weekends: gran had a regular egg business, and quite a few. We’d take in a bushel basket full, which then had to be candled and racked. And I had a few favorite hens. There were also guinea fowl, imports, from a county agricultural experiment—so you know that weird call you hear in African safari soundtracks? That’s guinea fowl who’ve seen a snake. LIke that. So since rattlesnakes were a common hazard there, the guinea fowl were useful: they’d surround a snake and call and irritate the daylights out of it, which made it less likely you’d reach into a nesting box and find a snake enjoying the warmth.
At night, guineas may roost in trees, and I have the unforgettable image of the old buckboard wagon that moldered in the weeds beside the loading pen, and an immense old tree that leafed very sparsely, and against the setting sun that old tree having birds roosting for the night, modest lumps for the guinea fowl and very fat lumps for the chickens, who’d learned from the guineas that with coyotes abroad, that old tree was the safest place to be at night.
My mother had an aunt and uncle who lived on a very large lot, nearly an acre, in Gardena (CA). The front third was house and lawn, the middle third was garden (corn, strawberries, other crops), and the back third was poultry: chickens, ducks, and guineas. (They sold eggs on the side.) The guineas had a snag to roost in, but the chickens and ducks had coops. (Overaged birds tended to end up as cat food.) For a kid, it was a great place for a vacation (but I learned just exactly how hard it is to pick strawberries by hand).
I know Gardena: Crenshaw to Vermont, El Segundo to Artesia, aka 174th at the time. Pre-war it was a lot of truck gardens, lots Japanese, even afterward to some extent.
It’s still heavily Asian, mostly Japanese of various origins. (Okinawans are Japanese, but not the same as the ones from the main islands.) But it’s much more built up now. (AFAIK, the feed store at Vermont and Redondo Beach is still there. Which always surprises me. And the casino across the street.)
I used to occasionally watch a Japanese broadcast TV station for that community. And I used to buy there. Vague recollection it was called Hill’s? Recall a casino or two on Vermont but not there, along with the LA Racing Pigeon Club.
Small world even in this internet age, eh? That’s why Mom always said to “keep your nose clean”, you never know when somebody’s going to see you that knows your family.
It’s still Hill’s. Teeny building, compared to those around it.
The casino across the street – you’d remember it as a poker place – is now the “Hustler” casino.
And the railroad tracks are still there on Vermont.
Tonight’s meal was pinto beans, about 1-1/2 cups, then soaked and cooked, added 1 can Ro-Tel tomatoes & green chilis, mild, cooked down, then added 1 diced thick-cut pork chop (should have added earlier), which had been oven-roasted, left over from 2 days ago, then let rest to blend a little while I checked the door, then added about 2 tbsp. sour cream and stirred in until fully blended. Served warm. The sour cream was to balance the heat from the can of tomatoes and chilis, which, when cooked with the beans, release more heat from the chilis. (CJ and Jane, you might prefer the can of hot, rather than mild, with or without any additional sour cream.) This hit the spot, as I haven’t had beans in a while and was really looking forward to some. Was very glad they didn’t stick or scorch. I think I’m finally getting used to this stovetop and oven. Ah, of course, I’d also used about 4 dashes of season salt and a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. (Curry powder or chili powder, any other spices or garlic or onion would do fine with this, but I felt it didn’t need more, nor did I add bell pepper, as I’m (ack!) out. Corn or other veggies would be welcome in this, but again, it was simple and tasted great like this. Enough for a few days for one. I don’t recall the size of that pot.)
I had cooked Jasmine rice yesterday, but the beans and pork were plenty filing and tasty, simple. The rice is likely to become a stir-fry this weekend, with chicken or beef, and with extra veggies, as I haven’t had enough veggies lately. (I’ve been working, not cooking.)
Hope you all are doing fine. Rain off and on here, not as much today. Word is still that by Wednesday next week or the week thereafter, we’re supposed to get below 70 for the first time this season.
We have Tracker’s ashes back. There’ll be a place in the garden for him. And curiously, Tanner has begun to nap again, and to relax. It’s downright spooky. He’s sleeping through the commotion of having our basement windows hammered out and replaced. Sometimes you have to wonder.
I’m glad to hear that Tanner is relaxing some, even in the racket. My special condolences to Jane. The loss of Tracker must rub at the raw wound of the loss of her sister. Jane, this is not your fault or failure.