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Feline family update


It's a clear, cold day at the farmette. About -15C, but the sun is out, which is unusual for this winter. Grey and gloomy seem to be the default. But it's bright today, so I'll take it.


It's been a while since I did a piece on the fur balls, so thought I'd write a bit about how they're doing.


I just put Bea(trix Potter) back to bed after she had her breakfast. She's 15+ now, so most of the time, she's 'lumping' under the coverlet of our bed.


Her appetite is still really good, and she can leap up on either the bed or the parson's bench in the dining room, which is her domain, as well. The old girl is in pretty good shape to be able to jump two and a half times her height. We recently took her for a health check up and had a bit of a wobble, because she had lost some weight. But a blood test showed she had no issues, so that was a big whew.


Our big orange tabby Hobbes is the second eldest and one of the youngsters (Wilma) has decided she is in love with him. He's quite tolerant, unless she gets too ardent, and he gives her a no-claw swat to let her know to back off. Still, their relationship is pretty amicable and they regularly nap together, as you can see. Hobbes, who's 11+ still has a bit of a head-tilt from a scary stroke incident a couple of years ago. We think he has had a few mini-strokes over night because he acts disoriented trying to find the breakfast bowl. But, fortunately, so far , he has always returned to his old self in a couple of hours.



Calvin is like a gangly teenager. At five and a bit, he's still rambunctious and likes to leap on the older cats to try and engage them in a tussle. Which Bea and Hobbes are well past being up for. When he's not racing up and down the house chasing the younger kitties (usually first thing in the morning), he's crashed out on Rob's or my legs. He is the quintessential lap cat, crawling up as if you are his chair. Which is fine, but can get a bit much given that he tips the scales at more than 20 pounds.




Our young foundlings Wilma (tortoiseshell) and Fred (tabby and white) are mature cats now. At four, they're still sprightly, chasing each other and Calvin when they're not resting, relaxing, napping or otherwise sleeping (which is most of the time). Wilma found a place to perch yesterday on the turntable we just got re-conditioned, and Fred has a regular date with the laundry tap to have a wee sip - usually right after breakfast. He 'squeaks' at us from the counter to make us aware he needs an opposable thumb to turn on the waterworks. Neither he nor Wilma have a proper meow. But they both have very robust purrs.


Anyway, that about wraps it for this week. So grateful for the wee furry ones who give us all kinds of entertainment and company through the cold, dark days of winter. Until next week.


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