Plum, Janos-Faced

It is hard to get a good picture of Plum, because he really prefers to spend most of his days lying on a hassock in a dark-ish corner of our living room, or lying like roadkill right in the middle of where one walks from the dining room to the kitchen.  But this weekend he was up and about and I got a few good shots of him with eyes open!

Sean likes to take him out on the deck for a bit of fresh air.  Plum seems to like this very much too—he will talk the entire time he is out there, and if you hold him up to a nearby tree, he will nibble a leaf or a twig.

He is still on clomicalm for his spraying issues.  He is just on a quarter of a pill, instead of the prescribed half, but it seems to work for him.  While on the meds, he doesn’t seem too out of it, yet it takes the edge off his more annoying behaviors.  On Saturday I ran out of pill pockets so skipped a dose, and he then tormented Posy all Sunday.  Plus Sean thought he might have been spraying upstairs, although we haven’t found any proof other than odors.  So on Sunday evening he went back on the meds, after Sean personally bought him two bags of pill pockets so we wouldn’t run out in the near future.

I still don’t get why he bothers Posy, since she never bothers him back, and doesn’t try to stand up to his authority.  Perhaps he is just a bully?  Or perhaps his neutering wasn’t quite completely successful?

A good thing about Plum is that he is still great with Owen.  Owen is quite gentle with the pets on the whole, but whereas Posy will run away, and Dorothy will sigh and mope, Plum will stand his ground and even on occasion seek Owen out.  He will rub against him, and talk to him, and not be bothered by Owen’s pats.  So there’s that!

I was feeling pleased with myself yesterday because I was able to cut 17 of Plum’s 18 nails.  The last one is too close to his footpad and he didn’t like me touching it.  We shall try again tonight though.  He also has a few clumps that need to be cut off.  The indignities of old(ish) age!

Plum thinking I am alpha cat, hear me roar.

 

Route Plum

Owen loves cars right now:  he loves to line them up in long traffic jams all over our first floor, he likes to drive them off the coffee table so that they fall and dent the floor below, sigh, and he likes to drive them over the back and arms of our couches.  Unfortunately, Plum also likes to use the backs of our couches, but as a prime lounging spot, not as a busy road.

So you can imagine what happens.  Owen starts driving his vehicles on Plum, and soon Plum becomes part of the road and finds matchbox cars and buses traversing his torso.  Or even worse, he becomes the subject of an anatomy lesson as Owen points to his eyes, nose, ears, mouth, whiskers, paws, etc.

Plum finds toddler Owen rather alarming, and, sad for Plum, I think it will probably get worse before it gets better.

Plum thinking, there are no words to describe this situation....

at least none fit for a blog.

Owen Has Two Cats

This is what Plum’s life is like nowadays.  He is lying in the sunporch getting his Z’s and D’s all comfy-like:

And then this happens:

Resulting in this face:

O how hard it is to be a cat in Bulldogge Manor!

Owen actually really likes both cats.  Posy is smart and pretty much runs away from him whenever she sees him coming.  Owen has just recently started noticing Posy’s loud meow, and will laugh and then imitate it when he hears it.  He actually does a pretty good Posy.  He’ll then laugh at his own imitation:  cats are funny!

Plum is almost always in the living room or the sunporch if it is warm enough for him, and since Owen spends a lot of his time in the living room, their paths cross often.  Plum is not a fan of children.  He likes my teenage nieces—once they reached the teen years—but kids 1-12 have always elicited slaps from Plum.  And I think an awful lot of those slaps had full claws out.  But oddly, Plum seems quite tolerant of Owen.  Owen will run up to him if Plum is walking around and try to touch his whiskers, and Plum has yet to truly get angry at the boy.  He will usually protest a bit with a few girlish meows, and will slowly meander in the opposite direction, but he doesn’t slap.  I’m sure one day he will, but I have been impressed with his restraint.  Sean has even seen Plum walk up to Owen when Owen was standing in front of the television and rubbed against him a few times in affection.  I think he is getting used to having a little brother.

What Happens When The Cats Dress The Baby

Boy? Boy Cat?

Perhaps because Plum is a male cat and I call him my son, and I also call him a handsome fellow which is what I now call Owen as well, I have started mixing up the names and calling Owen Plum and Plum Owen.  I'm hoping it is not a sign of early onset Alzheimers.

And when I call Owen Plum, he gives me this look:

Whachu talkin' about, Willis?

As well he should.

Body Buffer Zone

As my southern nieces could tell you, I am someone who likes her body buffer zone respected.  In fact, I'm one of those annoying people who often demarcate it by drawing an imaginary, yet pointed, box around my person with four swipes of my arms and an accompanying glare.

Ha.  Those days are over.  This is now the view when I tilt my head and look down:

And oh look!  What is glued to my side?:

But at least my legs and feet are solo on the hassock, right?  Wrong:

And I'm pretty sure I'm currently wearing Posy as a hat.

Baby and Bulldogge

On August 8, 2012, we welcomed Owen Martin Gares into this world, at 9 pounds 3 ounces and 21 3/4 inches long:

Or some of us did.  Others of us aren't so sure that a welcome is in order, unless it is of the "hello you must be going" variety.

Dorothy has actually been quite good on the whole.  Her dad had to get stern with her when we first brought Owen home, because she thought he might be a squeaky toy for her.  Once stern words were said, however, she seemed to realize that Owen is a tiny human requiring special treatment.

Dorothy was depressed, but now she is perhaps feeling a little better about things:

The thing that amuses me the most about her behavior is that at night when Owen starts to cry loudly, Dorothy hightails it out of the bedroom and goes and lies downstairs on the couch, until the crying stops, and she comes back.  She does not find his wails to be a pleasant, pear-shaped tone!

The cats for the most part are rather indifferent to their new baby brother.  Posy completely ignores him; and Plum is only interested in Owen's equipment, such as the cribs and strollers and whatnot.

We are all going through a period of adjustment, but are glad Owen is finally here!

Dorothy thinking back to when times were merry: