What to do with a persnickety feline?

  On my latest “must-do” list, I accomplished two: resupplied meds and bought Fancy Feast canned tuna for Greye, the 14-year old who was born on this hill and is the only one of his litter still living. Oh, how I wish I'd kept a ledger of the cost of the cans of cat food I've thrown out to the other creatures who live on this acre. 

              A little history: Mid-October of last year, he brought the back half of a rabbit to the door wanting inside. Of course, that was not an option. I picked up the late animal and threw it as far south as my left arm could throw. And ever since then, Greye's refused the dry food that he'd been eating all these years: Nine Lives with added nutrition. I finally sacked up the remaining and gave to Roxie W. for her feline.

            Since then, I've had to try something else--many something-elses. At first, he gobbled up cat cannedsalmon. Then, sniffed at it. Later, he gobbled up tuna, then sniffed at it. Cod, whitefish, shrimp, salmon mixture, pate, shreds, gravy, every brand and style that was available. For a while, he scarfed down Fancy Feast's tuna grilled flaked. I bought all the stock the stores around here had. (They didn't restock after a week, boo.)

        Last Sunday morning, I was in the car by 8 a.m. for a quick trip to the close-by dollar store. Greye needed Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna or Flaked tuna. None on the shelves (I’d bought up the last cans last Monday. )Another walk back to the front door with an empty buggy drew questioning eyes from both clerks. “Gotta find something Greye will eat. ‘Bye.”

                On the road to the nearest other dollar store (same brand) about three miles south, I met zero vehicles that early on Sunday. This store didn’t have the food Greye liked, but I bought a box (12) cans of various Fancy Feast fish/ salmon pate, plus three packs of four each tuna push-ups. Plus, litter. Plus a host of other things for myself.

                Face covered with a scarf (I was the only one with such), I checked out. An older man was in line behind me, also with cat food. We chatted about the changing appetites of our pets.

                At home, I pulled down a small plastic bowl, put one can of Fancy Feast in it, stirred it, then added one serving of tuna push-up, rather like a thick gravy. I mixed it and set it down at Greye’s “table.” One look, one smell, and he turned away. Now, what do I do?

              Since then, he's snubbed all the different kinds of Fancy Feast, the shreds of Friskies. All he'll eat are Temptations treats.

             Tonight while making my supper of turkey and Colby cheese on rye, I  tore off  small piece of the cheese and threw it to where he was standing. He actually ate it. When I placed a Ritz-like cracker beside it, he didn't "bite."  Then I thought, 'Wonder if he'll eat part of this sandwich?' So I sliced off an inch slab, placed it in a plastic bowl, smothered it with a push-up pack of tuna-flavored gravy and showed him. 

            Aha! He appeared to be eating, but when I looked, he'd only licked the tuna gravy and left the sandwich. Tomorrow's another trip to the store. Early. With face covering.

           And by the way, I'm way too old to have such a recalcitrant "child" to tend. Anyone want an otherwise sweet old cat?

                 

           c 2020 PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA     

What can we do while sheltering at home?

                 For us without small grandchildren to homeschool, for us without (on purpose) TV, for those of us who prefer quiet to ‘white noise’, how have you spent your ‘shelter at home’ time? Some folks binge watch old or Netflix movies, clean out cabinets, file computer works and hard-copies that probably won’t be read until our descendants happen on them (when and if they go through our stuff ) after we’ve moved on.

                Others have used the time to catch up on reading. Since I ‘shelter at home’ most of the time anyway, nothing much is different other than the cancellation of various groups—Bryant Bunch Lunch, local poets’ meeting, church, Lucidity in Eureka Springs, Spring Celebration of Poets Roundtable of Arkansas, Girls of ’54 breakfast.

                Instead, on days without rain, I’ve worked in the yard trying to tame the spring-growing, ubiquitous privet, rake leaves from the flower beds, trim back the loropetalum, and move the houseplants to the front porch.

                Several folks from church (fifteen miles away in Tull) have checked on me, and a family going by the house who saw me outside wheeled in to see if I needed anything, and my retired-from AR-DOT son came over to mow and weed-eat. He and I stayed six feet apart during the entire morning, which was hard to do but we blew kisses to each other.

                I can tell more folks are on their computers or iPhones; my computer is much slower nowadays, it seems. I completed my MFA assignments on Tuesday before they were due on Sunday, so I began reading David Brook’s The Second Mountain. Greye-the-old-cat climbs up on my throw-covered lap for some close, quiet contact. Now, if I could find something he will eat longer than two days at a time.

                This past Sunday, I did vary my routine a bit. More than a bit, really. First, I slept (and dreamed) until nearly 10 a.m. I brought the local and state papers inside, cleared them of the advertisements, made coffee and checked email, Facebook, national news online.

                I looked through my CDs to find some choral music and found two discs of such. One was “Vivaldi” and the other was Faure’s “Requiem” both performed by my sister’s community chorus, NoVa Lights when she lived in northern Virginia. Then, instead of sitting at the table or on the loveseat, I sat on the sofa by the lamp table and began reading the Perspective section of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. I actually read nearly every article, column and letter to the editor, which I usually do NOT do. And by four o’clock I had even begun the BIG PUZZLE, always a difficult one. But it was nap time, so I turned off the music player, set the alarm for 6:30, warmed the heating pad and neckpiece and enjoyed a shortened snooze. Monday, things got back to normal.

              Now that the daffodils have gone, irises are popping up everywhere. My roadside bed is full of early whites and a few blue-purple ones. Later, the nursery stock whites and maroons with dazzle with their large blooms. Azaleas are coming into their fullness and beauty. If we have to stay home, we can enjoy the blooms. And hope the bees flock to the flowers, too.

c2020, PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA