About the Cat...

"Anonymous said...
i can't believe you found a vet that would actually do something so cruel (declawing) to your cat. if you like, the human equivalent is to have your fingers cut off from the last knuckle, right before the fingernail. think about it. please reconsider.
Monday, December 11, 2006 12:46:00 PM "



Dear Anonymous,

First of all, I must say I am thoroughly disappointed in your cowardice in hiding your identity. If you wish to express your opinion about someone else's decisions, be honest about it. I'd like to have an open conversation with you (because I probably know you) rather than talking into cyberspace.

Secondly, I am quite surprised you "can't believe" there are vets out there who declaw people's feline pets. Before we took Kitty in, I called 11 different vets for quotes, and not a single one had any problems with performing this routine procedure.

And finally, I don't think it's quite fair to equalize declawing with cutting off a human's fingers. Oh, I understand the procedure, and I realize it involves pain for the cat. But Kitty is NOT a human, however much we may want to give her status as a personality under our roof. Also, Kitty does not have fingers, she has paws with claws, and these claws have great and demonstrated ability to destroy furniture, curtains, woodwork, etc, despite the availability of a scratching post and the deterrence of a spray bottle. When such items are destroyed, it makes her owners fairly unhappy, and this in turn makes Kitty feel a little less loved. Since cats use their claws mainly for defense and catching prey, and since Kitty is a stricly indoor cat who will not need to defend herself or catch her own dinner, her claws were not necessary to her well-being, and in the long run were only causing her unhappiness in our home. Besides, outdoor cats mainly use their back claws for defense, and Kitty still has those if she ever manages to escape. And, for the record, Kitty's knuckles were not cut off; the surgery was not quite that invasive (and no, it wasn't the "cut the tendons" surgery either).

As much as we enjoy our cat, she is a secondary addition to our home. She is not a child, she is not human, and there are certain rules which need to be followed. No scratching or biting, no ripping the curtains, no destroying the couch. Since she could not demonstrate an ability to adapt to these rules, we took action, and now she is a happily obedient cat. I am certain that in her tiny cat brain, she has forgotten she ever had them. Don't get me wrong - I believe it is wrong to abuse any creatures which God has delightfully created and given to us for our use and enjoyment. My cat is fed, kept warm, and cuddled - better than her fate in the great outdoors. There are much more cruel activities going on in this world, cruelties to human lives, which we should be focusing our attention on.

For the record, Kitty bounced back quite quickly and is doing just fine - right back to her usual mischievous, whiny self.

Water water water

When you've got Lake Permilla, who needs to put

the effort into digging a backyard pond?

Ouch

Big day planned for Kitty tomorrow. She gets to go to the vet to get spayed and declawed - what fun! She doesn't seem too concerned at the moment, as she is more interested in jumping around on the furniture and preventing me from seeing the computer screen. I have a feeling she won't be quite so enthusiastic when she gets home again on Friday.

Who Likes Mini Wheats Anyways?

Does anyone else love this commercial? Every time it comes on I want to sing along, and it gets stuck in my head. I don't even like Mini Wheats.

My little story takes place at a tropical villa

I fell in love with a flavour, Yes it was vanilla!

Miiiinniiiiii wheats wheats wheats

I wanted vanilla for so long

Mini wheats wheats wheats

It's high in fibre you can't go wrong

Vanilla flavour mixed with wheat

Put it together it can't be beat

Vanilla flavour mixed with wheat

Tastes so good, what a treat!

Watch it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHWpGb3zYnM

Good-bye Swimmy

'Tis a sad day in the Vander Deen household, as death has left its cold touch on our doorstep. I am sad to announce that my beloved Swimmy has passed away and is now swimming with his friends in the sewer pipes. Swimmy will be missed by, well, me, anyways, and maybe by Kitty. Swimmy led a long and unproductive life, moving from place to place with an uneasy stomach and a finicky temperament. He knew very few tricks, and liked to hide under his rock. He always enjoyed reminiscing about his mud-puddle days, and would quickly transfom his newly cleaned bowl into a bubbly bubble-nest mess. He ate more than he should have, except in his last days when he ate less than required to survive. Swimmy leaves an empty spot on our bookshelf, but his memory will live on in his very own book: Swimmy, by Leo Lionni.

Swimmy's first day: September 21, 2002. Swimmy arrived with

balloons, fancy-dancy birthday cake, and a big surprise with many

people. Actually, pictured here is Swimmy I, who suffered

much stress and only lasted one day. Swimmy II arrived a few days later,

and soon assumed the general name of Swimmy

Swimmy doing some reading in our new home. He was never one for

much discussion, but he did enjoy his place on the bookshelf.

The Hole Swimmy leaves behind

Swimmy's favourite book of all timeHe taught them to swim close together, each in his own place, and when they had learned to swim like one giant fish, he said, "I'll be the eye." And so they swam in the cool morning water and in the midday sun and chased the big fish away

Busy day

Productive days are great. There seemed to be some extra hours added into today somehow, for which I am happily surpised! We got an early start this morning, getting some grocery shopping in at a store we haven't tried yet. I think I may have found my grocery store - not quite as ritzy as the Real Canadian SS, yet providing choice and good prices. And who can't like a grocery store with fancy ice-cream on sale?
Mike and I then toured across the city aiming for the Dutch import store we had discovered on Ontario street a few weeks back. It was a pretty good store - most of the traditional Dutch things were there, except for a supply of our favorite mugs. I was a little disappointed to see that their food isn't imported from Custan foods, as I always thought that was kind of special, knowing the secret to that name . . .
When we got home, we were quite amused to find that the cat had trapped herself in the little nook behind the fridge she likes so much. We released her, then left to walk downtown for a Remembrance day ceremony in the half-rain just across the Burgoyne bridge. When it was done, we headed further downtown for the library, and when we were about halfway there, the skies decided that half-rain wasn't good enough, and soon we were quite soaked. Taking refuge for a few minutes in the Farmer's Market, we bought some bread and summer sausage. When we finally made it to the library, a note was posted on the door saying it was closed for Remembrance Day. Looking like drowned rats, and slightly disappointed drowned rats at that, we made our drippy way home, where we found that the cat had, once again, trapped herself behind the fridge. Dumb cat. The afternoon was spent, for me, cleaning the house, and for Mike, soldering and plumbing. So, the house is clean and I now have some beauty taps downstairs for the laundry tubs (thanks Mike and Dad!)
And, lest you think our day was nearing completion, we gave the cat a bath and then took off for the school, where lots of marking and planning were completed. Now the famous Vander Deen pizza dough is rising in the kitchen, and it's only 6:30. Amazing!
There is only one problem. I am almost done writing this post, but it is so boring that I might just fall asleep before I manage to publish it.

Remembrance

In Flanders Fields

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1882-1918)

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row

That mark our place; and in the sky,

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amidst the guns below.

We are the dead, short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe.

To you, with failing hands we throw

The torch, be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Things Which Do Not Belong To Me But Are In My House

It is probably the case with most people who have family and friends that random items end up living for a time in the wrong household. For those readers who may sorely miss their borrowed belongings, wonder where their belongings are, or even who may have been completely unaware that they were missing some dear item, I will take you on a photo-tour of our house, which I have entitled "Things Which Do Not Belong To Me But Are In My House".
Here we go:

In The Beginning by Chaim Potok. It looks quite nice on our bookshelf, eh?

The Chess Garden by Brooks Hansen. Looks nice here as well.

School Ties, borrowed from the lunch room at work

Cake containers. I thought we only had one but it must have reproduced.

A saw, borrowed when we first entered cub car competitions together (I won't mention how long ago that was)

Another saw, for which the purpose of its borrowing has not yet been fulfilled

Esta's chair, which she left behind for us. It's an ugly chair, a dirty chair, and a dangerously tippy chair, so I do not want to acknowledge it as my chair

A hockey glove - owner please speak up if you recognize it!!

Uncle Gord's steam engine, lit on fire several times in class demonstrations

Wheelbarrow that I didn't even know we had until last week or so

Another remnant of the previous homeowner, which I also refuse to acknowledge as mine. This can serves very well as a doorstop until said previous homeowner feels inclined to claim it.

RING!

Well, I hope I haven't lost anything too important. I took the plunge and changed the template of my blog, without really having any idea what would happen to it. It seems that most things are still in place.
Since we are having visitors this evening sometime, Mike is currently in the process of installing a doorbell. Last week we bought a wireless one, but when we were testing it out at home it sounded terrible - imagine a very sickly, loud, electronic bell and then make it ten times worse. Thankfully the volume control wasn't functioning properly, so we didn't have to feel too bad about bringing it back and getting one with a real bell instead. It's got an old-time charm to it, but the only problem is that we need to have visitors over to try it out for us. If you would like to try our doorbell (trust me, it's exciting!) give us a call and we'd love to have you down to test our doorbell for us. And maybe you can even come in for a cup of coffee.

Queen of the House

Once upon a time, there lived a cat. This cat was very cute, and very pretty, and very self-centered. She lived in a small little house which was kept neat and tidy. However, the cat did not care much for neat and tidy. The cat liked to make a mess. She thought it was great fun to tip over the big plant pots and scatter dirt all over the couch and the floor. She thought it was exceptionally tasty to eat freshly cut flowers and then puke them onto the kitchen floor. She loved to jump up on the stove while dinner was cooking so she could steal people-food and knock stuff over. She found it very exciting to bury erasers in her litter box and spread litter all over the office. And nothing could beat chasing plants, freshly ripped out of their pots, around and around the house while crumpling up every mat she could find. And while no one else living in the small little house liked the huge mess she liked to make, she discovered that most human wrath could be appeased if she sporadically jumped up on a lap and purred for a while.