The Dogs and Their Kitty

Given the number of dogs-staring-at-the-cat pictures I have on my phone, I figured it was appropriate for a post about it.

How the dogs interact with the cat varies over the course of the day. While us humans are at work or school, the kitty has free roam of the house and the dogs are locked up in the office. She seems to enjoy having free rein over the house, as evidenced by the tongue lick marks I've found on the butter when we forget to cover it, things she's knocked off the coffee table, and occasionally finding her hiding somewhere weird when we get home.  She'll sometimes be up high on a shelf or in a pile of as-yet unpacked moving boxes because the dogs were let out before she could run back her to laundry room.

But when we are home, a feline-canine magnetism develops that is hard to ignore.

Taters turns into a statue, positioning himself with a good view of the kitty. He won't move a muscle unless you offer him food or suggest a romp outside. And sometimes not even then. We think he stares at her in hopes that SOMEDAY she'll surprise him and want to be chased through the house. But I think he'll have to wait a looooooooong time for that to happen.

Ruby gets magnetized sometimes, too.

 I don't know how they can stand to stare at her for so long. Once bedtime rolls around, they make sure to get a good spot for horizontal position staring while we get ready to sleep.  Usually we place Nina on a king sized pillow between the headboard and my pillow. She used to stay there for quite some time but has recently decided that she'd rather walk around the entire bed to find the perfect nest, despite the crazy dogs lurk

If Nina would allow it, Ruby would have her snout shoved into Nina's fur (or better yet, her "undercarriage") whenever they're in bed.

Pretty girls!

Clearly, Nina is not too perturbed by the canine affections.

Sometimes, Ruby will get too tired to actually stare at the kitty so they'll snuggle up for a bit. Nina tries to groom Ruby, but Ruby always growls.

Our sleeping arrangements shift depending on our moods (do we want a cat taking up space in the bed tonight?) and Eddie's requests (sometimes he wants Nina to sleep with him). Like I said, she usually sleeps on a pillow in our bed. But sometimes she sleeps with Eddie--and half of those times he ends up in our room in the middle of the night complaining that Nina is walking all over him. So then we put her outside the hallway and she goes about her nocturnal feline business.

Eddie and kitty!

I get up to pee nearly every night and lately I've been finding Nina and Taters snuggled up together in the middle of the bed, where Taters sleeps every night.

ISN'T THAT ADORABLE?

Here's another one in case you didn't realize just how cute it is to see your dog and cat (and husband) snuggling.

Sometimes Nina chooses the weirdest places to sleep. She's soooooo soft and silky and warm that I put up with it.

I think they'd snuggle this way during the day if it weren't for annoying Ruby trying to police the situation. We call her the Yard Duty, except she growls and barks instead of blows a whistle.

In this case, Ruby was warning Dave to stop bothering her. He was stroking Ruby's head with one of Nina's shed whiskers and she was NOT happy about it. Of course, I could have taken a similar picture when Ruby is "protecting" Nina from Taters....Ruby seems to think Nina needs protecting sometimes.

Ruby wasn't thrilled at getting a bath from Nina. 

Oh, the complexities of inter-species homes...

A Story of Julie and Her Cats

I got my first cat just before I entered 9th grade. While at the "back to school" outdoor quad dance at my soon-to-be high school, a kid approached my group of friends and he was holding a box of kittens.  Most were tabby cats. He was looking for homes for them.  I took one, knowing full well that my parents would NOT be pleased.  Growing up in a very messy house with a less-than-organized mother, my brother and I were always told that our family "just isn't set up for pets."  Humph.

My dad was on a business trip for the week so when I called home from a pay phone (collect, mind you) my mom answered.  I informed her that I was bringing home a kitten.  She sighed loudly and, exasperated with me, said, "Julie, why do you do things like this to me???"  And I hung up.  

Of course, she's a cat person so I knew I could get away with it--at least until my strict father came back home.  But I'd worry about that later. I remember that she had pink chewing gum residue stuck on one ear and was the size of a 6" sub sandwich.  She was our little secret because my brother was spending the night at a friend's house. That night we took the kitten home and I scooped up some garden soil and put it in a box for her to potty on.  And she peed for me right when I placed her into the soil in a squatting position.  

The next morning, I heard Edward come into the house and he came straight to my room.  I quickly tucked the kitten under my bedspread.  She wriggled around and Edward immediately asked what was under there.  When I pulled her out, he was so surprised and happy!  But I do remember him making a comment along the lines of, "ooooooooooh Daddy's gonna be SO MAD when he gets home!"

We kept that kitten hidden from my dad for a couple of days once he got home.  I have no idea how.  Once, I lost track of her in the house and my dad came home from work. I dashed around the house looking for her and found her curled up sleeping on top of a piece of posterboard that had fallen on top of the heater vent, behind the couch in the living room.  What a quiet little angel.

Eventually my mom said I had to tell my dad about "the cat."  She referred to her with a deadpan tone, worrying that we'd ALL be in big trouble.  So I put the tiny kitty in my arms, draped a towel over her, and carried her into the dining area.  I told my dad, "I have a surprise!" and took the towel off my arm.  He glared at it, and then at me.

Excitedly, I announced that we have a kitty now.

He said, "NO WE DON'T."

"Yes we do, Daddy!  Look?  Isn't she cuuuuuuuuuuuute?"

"WE DON'T HAVE  A CAT, JULIE.  WE'RE NOT SET UP FOR THAT RIGHT NOW."

And then I proceeded to tell him that we'd had her for a whole week...so really, we ARE NOW set up for having a cat. He was.....um, not impressed.  I begged to keep her and eventually he said we could "try it for a month" and then see how it was going and re-evaluate.  Right, re-evaluate.  That was in September of 1996.  We never looked back, and she rapidly became HIS CAT.

A guy must REALLY love his cat to pose for pictures with her like this. Am I right?

We named her Tekah Le Anne but she had oodles of nicknames, like everyone in our family.

• Kittiest kitten
• Baby kitty kitten angle face
• Scanda-who-vian...you know, her coloring and Scandinavia...
• The Sock Nest Monster since she likes to collect and disperse balled up socks, which my dad so lovingly puts back into a pile for her every.single.night.  
• TekahTheMeowMeow (one word) from Eddie because he first called kitties "meow meows" when he was a baby

My dad emailed this to me a couple of years ago and said it was Tekah "in her office." She likes getting up onto his work tables so she can see the quail and song birds outside.

Such a pretty kittenkitty!

Tekah loved "watching" tv with my mom in the evenings.

At nearly 18 years old, she's looking a bit scruffy and skinny but we still think she's so pretty.

Sooooooooooo I've always wanted a cat in the Bower family.  Dave was allergic but has grown out of that and most other allergies (thanks, Lyme disease).  Eddie LOVES kitties and always asked if we could have one.  So we (well, I) decided we could adopt one once we moved. Then, since my FIL didn't start construction on the house until AFTER we moved in, acquiring a kitty had to wait until there were no more holes in the walls.  

Eddie and I stopped by the local Humane Society place a few times to visit with the kitties over the summer.  There was a long haired calico one who was super vocal and friendly and didn't mind the stomping 4 year old boy I brought with me.  Her name was Nina.  One day on the walk back home from the farmers market, Dave, Eddie, and I stopped in at the Humane Society on a whim.

Nina was still there. Dave picked her up and I could tell that he fell in love hard and fast. As a "dog person" he kept acting like he was doing me a favor by letting us adopt a cat...but I could TELL he was re-evaluating his position once he met Nina. That afternoon we took home the application and agreed to call the Humane Society office with our decision later that week. Well anyway, that was the idea. But instead I made Dave give me permission to call from work the very next day to confirm our decision to adopt her. And then I went home and ordered a litter box and crate off Amazon.

The next Sunday we picked her up. She wouldn't come down from a high shelf so the staff made us wait in the front room while they convinced her to come down. We gladly paid our adoption fee plus an extra $40 to the shelter for food or other expenses.

Nina's "home base" is the laundry room upstairs. It has a door so we can lock the dogs out as needed. She's never had a potty accident or even barfed up hair balls. Whenever we are in her room she meows for attention and loves to be held and pet. I don't know how we got so lucky!

A rare picture of Nina without dog snouts around. She's rarely alone but when she knows the dogs are locked up she'll venture out to see us (usually when we stop at the house during working hours).

The first couple of days she was a bit hesitant to come to us unless the door was shut. To encourage her, we first offered her nibbles of tortilla chips. It was amusing how much she liked them! Then Dave realized that kitties love dairy--so now she's trained to "ask" for a spoonful of latte foam every morning and a 1/4 teaspoon of vanilla ice cream every evening. And by "ask" I mean to meooooooooooooooooooooooooow for a whole breath (or two).

Yeah, Dave's in love and is now a certifiable dog AND cat person.

He can't go into the laundry room for any single thing without stopping to love on her. Even if it's to grab something out of the pantry to get an ingredient that needs to be added to a simmering pot right now he still has to stop for a kiss and to whisper sweet nothings to her. He's such a good people and pet dad.

Nina's nicknames so far include:

• Nina Bina
• Nina Bambina
• Nina Barina
• Kittykitty (saying this to Taters makes him RUN to see her if he isn't already right in her face)
• Meowmeow
• Meowmers
• Meowington

And garsh do we LOVE HER to pieces!

Nina rubbing her face on mine...while Taters stares intently.

Me and my happy kitty snuggling one evening.

My in-law's were wary of us getting a kitty, claiming that they are highly allergic. But...they're not. And they love visiting Nina!

My Boy Taters

Garsh, I sure love this dog of mine.

Just now I was on the phone with my dad, sitting outside in the sunshine of the "island house" across from the Coast House.  The dogs came out with me and we all just soaked in the relaxing warmth. Ahhhh.  I told my dad I'd take a picture of the precious doggies to email to him. But of course they could tell that I was talking about them (my tone, I guess) so they jumped up and ruined their pose.

It's okay, though, because Taters came over to me for some loving.






I can't believe I ever lived without dogs in my life. Never again, I can't go back to those dark (fur-free) days.

Anyone who argues that animals are incapable of real, unconditional love toward humans and are only drawn to people who feed them has never had canine companions before.  I feel bad for people like that.

Noodle's Giant Blue Egg

Every winter, our chickens completely stop laying eggs for at least a month.  Then as the days get longer they slowly give us more and more eggs.  For the last month or so, we've been getting eggs but if I wasn't home in the mornings to collect them, the chickens often ate them.  Ewww, cannibalism.

Before last fall, I would close them up in their pen every night, lest a raccoon get them.  And often in the mornings I wouldn't have time to run outside and let them out so they could roam the garden yard or into the front of the house if I left the gate open.  But I got lazy in the fall and realized that they went back into their pen each night and no predatory animals ever seemed to bother them.  So I just stopped closing them up at night.  

By not closing them up at night, I realized that they were laying eggs on my potting bench, rather than in the cozy nesting boxes Dave built.  The silly birds also like to kick out all the fluffy bedding I line the nesting boxes with, and historically they'd only use them until all the bedding was gone.  (HELLO, chickies!  How about NOT removing all the bedding you like so much?)

So I filled up their nesting boxes with nice, dry wood shavings and set some egg-looking rocks in there to make them realize that that's where Mama Hen wants them to lay their eggs...not on the potting bench.  

Since then, they've been laying 1-4 eggs a day in the nesting box, with only a cannibalized egg every so often.  Once, I saw a non-calcified blue egg so that oozed all over the place.  But otherwise, we got a lot of normal eggs.

This past weekend, I found a HUGE blue egg in the nesting box, laid by Noodle.  I was so excited that I showed it off to Dave and all the kids outside.  Dave and I were the only ones super impressed because the kids didn't really understand how big it was by comparison.

Two normal eggs flanking the Big Blue Egg, plus a kitchen ruler so you can see the measurement comparison.

This picture doesn't really get across just how massive this egg was.  Weird how different pictures make things appear different.

Holy ovary...this picture certainly shows how big it is!

Once Noodle gave us another blue egg the following evening, I weighed both of them to compare.  The big one was ~ 1/4 pound (4 oz) and the regular one was ~ 1/8 pound (2 oz).  Even her normal eggs are the 'jumbo' size from the grocery store.

The blue eggs on the left are Noodle's giant and regular sized eggs.  The other brown eggs are from our other (non bantam) hens.  Baby Chicken (the bantam, about a 1/4 size of a regular hen) lays the cutest little eggs but she's always been irregular with her laying so we don't get them too often.

Yesterday morning we cracked open the Big Blue Egg and found, not surprisingly, two yolks.  We've had double yolks from our chickens before, but always as two smaller yolks in a regular sized egg.  It isn't uncommon.  In fact, you can buy whole cartons of double yolk eggs from the Vega Farm table at the farmers market.

Eddie was pretty confused that the egg contained double yolks.  He looked at me to gauge my reaction (excited!) and this is the look he shot back at me.  Translated into words it means: "I dunno...Mama, are you tricking me?"

The surprising thing to me was that these were two full sized yolks in a double sized egg.  That's like normally birthing 8 pound children and then one pregnancy you have to push out a 16 pound baby.  LORDY, can you imagine?!

Edward came to visit me in South Africa back in 2002 at the end of my study abroad program.  We rented a car and went on a road trip on part of the famed 'garden route.' We spent one night in Oudtshoorn and were served an entire ostrich egg for breakfast.  It was INSANELY huge--like a whole platter of scrambled egg--and so rich that we struggled to eat most of it.  I tried explaining this giant egg story to Eddie and he didn't understand.  Clearly he doesn't yet know that lots of animals lay eggs and that we usually only eat chicken eggs.  (Maybe a trip to the Asian market for some quail eggs is in order...I could make a whole "mini meal" with small versions of things...eggs, mini toasts, baby bananas?  FUN!  And that reminds me, Steph: we still need to have our Big Dinner Party where everything is giant sized like that pretzel we ate in Austria!)

Anyway, those twin yolks were yummy!

A Boy and His Chickens

Tonight reminded me how mature Eddie's become: he used to call the chickens "yick yens" which is pretty much the most adorable thing ever.  And lately he's begun mimicking the little sing-song I say to them when I'm out gathering eggs or whatever: "Here, chickie chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiickies!  Well, hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii sweet Lady Birds!  Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii chickie chickiiiiiiiiiiiiiiies!"  It's embarrassing when I say it, but when he does it it's the most adorable thing ever.

This evening before dinner, Eddie ran off to the neighbor's house to dig in his giant compost pile.  He wanted to find worms to feed to our chickens, who were running free in the cul-de-sac.  

I asked if I could take his picture and he instantly turned his back to me and informed that he was too "busy sawing the compost" to pose for a picture.  Of course, when I suggested that we take a picture to show Uncle Edward, he spun around and put on his typical "Anime" smile.  

When he's in a good mood, I can direct his facial expressions--this time to keep his eyes open a bit.  Ahhhhhh, isn't he handsome?!

I was called over to gather the worms and shuttle them back to our house.  One of the worms was as thick as my pinky finger and about 4 inches long.  All it takes it a little tongue clicking and sweet words to the chickies and they come running over to see what I, their Mama Bird, has for them.  They all have their own personalities and right now only two of them are interested in eating worms.  If the worm is held by one end and dangle it, the chickens run up, stop about an arm's length away, and then investigate the invertebrate gift by turning and cocking their heads for a few seconds...and then they snap their head toward the free end of the treat, pull it and let it fall to the ground, and then gulp it down.  The gulp always reminds me of how young children slurp entire lengths of cooked spaghetti into their mouths.  

I had this area along the driveway fenced during most of the winter since I seeded it with perennial flowers.  But now that the rye grass is in full force, the chickens have a salad bar.  

Masala and Pepper each got a few wormies before we retreated inside the house for an easy dinner of take-out pizza.  And truth be told, I'm not sure I even remembered to brush off much of the residual compost from Eddie's clothes before he went inside (but he did wash his grubby little hands!).  

I love that Eddie looooooooooves dirt, compost, worms, spiders, etc.  And not because it is 'boy' stuff, but because his life will be a lot easier for him if he knows how to appreciate life's nasties and that some situations require (or are improved by) getting dirty.  And because I love that stuff.   

Want to see something weird?  Click here to see a picture of earthworms mating.  

This and That

Things have been going on, yet I don't seem to have the motivation to write about them.  But I do take pictures so that's what you'll get.

Note: there is one dead animal picture in the middle...so don't look if you're squeamish.  You've been warned.

I made a double batch of granola to go with my homemade yogurt.  Mmmm, good.

Eddie loves gymnastics...once he decides to participate.

Last Saturday Eddie went with me to a friend-of-a-friend's house to learn about butchering a pig.  Dave was supposed to be home to hang out with Eddie, but when his plans changed, Eddie came along.  When he got bored with the meat, he busied himself with digging for worms in the garden and feeding them to the chickens.  (His recent hobby.)

Later on Saturday: Eddie continued his worm-seeking in the neighbor's compost pile.  He put the worms into a beer bottle he found in the neighbor's yard (uhhhh...) and had me feed them to the chickens afterward.  

I made a video of me feeding the chickens all the worms Eddie collected in the beer bottle.  Dave thinks I'm crazy for it, but I seriously don't think I could ever live without chickens again.  They are such a delight to have in the yard--so much personality!  

Eddie found this dress/nightgown and some books in a "free" pile in front of someone's house on the way home from the pig butchering class.  He wore it to bed that night, after spending an hour dancing around the house like a ballerina.  When Dave got home that night, Eddie greeted him in the living room and I heard Dave exclaim, "Oh!  My pretty, pretty princess!"  Haha, I loved Dave's reaction.

Sunday we were supposed to have Zennie over to play but she was barfing all morning so she didn't come.  So......we demolished the hall bathroom shower/tub surround instead!  Dave even managed to take the old tub out the next day. I'm not sure how we'll get the new one in since he had to use a Sawzall to get the old one out...but I'm sure we'll figure something out.  Dave took my picture here because I was using the biggest nonsledge hammer we have with the smallest chisel we have...that's what I was left with after Eddie rummaged through the tool bag.  But it worked.  

Because the hall bathroom is being renovated, Eddie now bathes in a galvanized tub in the kitchen. So far, he thinks it's fun.  I think it's cute because--well, what's not cute about Eddie in a bucket?  But also it's cute because Dave and I bought those tubs to hold ice and drinks for our wedding reception.

Eddie and Callen busied themselves allllllll day Monday by digging a huge hole in the front yard (in a place pre-approved for digging by me since it has no plants).  They were quite industrious: the soil went into a 33 gallon garbage can, then they dragged the hose to it and soaked it to make mud, then  asked Callen's dad to dump it out so they could play in it.  The can o' mud was so heavy that Rob had to come ask Dave to help him move it.  I think those kiddos were out there for a good 4 hours playing in that mud, making volcanoes, roads, and tunnels.

While Eddie was outside playing and Dave was sawing away at the tub, I made some kid-sized aprons and pot holders. Renee is having her birthday party this coming weekend and I know she's getting a play kitchen from her parents.  So I thought I'd make her a few things to go with it.  I made two aprons so Eddie has one, too.  I used some old fabric from my Grandma's old stash and made ruffles for the first time ever.  I was delirious with pride that I actually made ruffles--I felt like I'd discovered how to make fire or something.  

On our Tuesday afternoon off, Eddie was outside playing with the neighbors when it suddenly got really cold and windy.  They came inside for a snack and we realized it was hailing something fierce.  I got excited and went out onto the patio to check it out.  Seeing my excitement, they came outside with me.  And then we realized we were being pummeled and it HURT our faces so we came inside and just stared out the window for the next 5 minutes until it passed.  

I wore gold earrings and a 3/4 sleeved sweater to school the other day. Not wanting naked wrists, I rummaged through my jewelry box in search of a gold bracelet.  This is the only one I have.  It was a wedding gift from Dave's mom on our wedding day.  And yes, that's a picture of newborn Dave.  Weird?  Yes.  Sort of creepy?  Maybe.  But do I love it? Definitely.  

Eddie insisted on cooking our eggs yesterday morning, just so he could wear his new apron.  Scrambled eggs was the first dish I was ever allowed to cook alone on the stove, too.  I sent this video to Edward right after uploading it and he told me he actually burned his OWN breakfast because he was busy watching Eddie cook.  Haha.

Dave is home this week for water treatment class he's taking in Sacramento.  Obviously, this makes this week one of the best of the year because he's here every morning and is home in time for dinner every night.  I loooooooooooove it.  Eddie does, too.  Tonight he and Dave played 'struction workers on excavators while I threw dinner together.  He's always pretended that the upside down stools are heavy equipment because when he stands inside the legs, it puts the legs in the right position to be the levers controlling the machines.   

So that's what we've been up to!  I'm off to Mountain View/Livermore tomorrow to spend a couple of days away for some (hopefully) focused writing time.  It's possible I'll find some time to write up a few much-neglected blog posts while I'm gone...but I think I'll be too busy biking, eating Cajun chicken pasta at Strizzi's, sitting in Edward's hot tub, picking greens in my dad's garden...oh, and writing the results and discussion sections of this first dissertation chapter.  Boo.  

A Meat-Tastic Weekend

Goodness, this past Saturday was very meaty.

That morning, my friend and labmate, Hannah, came over with her rooster.  She and her housemates had been in denial that their super-sized chicken, Fig, was in fact a rooster rather than a hen.  When he started crowing at dawn last week, her household quickly decided that he had to go (so did their neighbors).

I got a panicked text from her last Tuesday while Eddie and I were at the train museum.  She needed to know if I could assist her in dispatching him.  Of course!

Back in December, I took a chicken harvesting class in Sacramento...and while I don't fancy myself an expert, I knew we could figure it out.

So one night last week, Eddie and I went to the hardware store to pick up some aluminum flashing and made ourselves a 'killing cone.' I sharpened a knife, gathered some pots of hot and iced water, found a suitable gut bucket, and tied some rope on the fence.

Hannah and her roommate, Chris, a law student, came over around 11 am.  By 2 pm we each had a chicken carcass ready to cook and had washed/sterilized all the materials used in the slaughter.  (I figured if we were going to harvest one chicken, why not two?  Mine will all turn into food at some point before we move anyway.  Eddie chose Vindaloo.)

I debated letting Eddie watch me kill our chicken and after discussing it with Dave we figured he'll see it eventually so why not start now?  Dave held Eddie in his arms while we did it, just in case he needed some comfort.  While the birds were draining on the fence, the neighbor kids and their grandmother came over to see what we were doing (we were in the front yard).  It turns out they were super interested, and the grandmother explained to us that her family used to harvest chickens when she was a girl.

Overall, it went just fine.  I'm not sure we killed mine as swiftly as I would have liked since her neck feathers were quite dense.  But after a second swipe of the knife ensured her passing.  Practice makes perfect, I guess, and I do want to get it right so my birds can "go" as humanely and painlessly as possible.

Killing cone.

Hen and rooster.  Thanks for your sacrifice.

Our set up.

Mary Jane came to watch Hannah clean her rooster.

My first home-harvested bird.

It was a fun science experiment to harvest a male and a female at the same time.  We got to explore their insides, comparing the testes to the collection of eggs inside the hen.  Vinny had a series of eggs inside her, of various sizes so that was interesting.  Chris definitely winced when we cut open a testicle to see what was inside...nothing, in particular, as it turns out.  They were just solid white organs.  I figured we'd see tubes or something.  Either way, it was neat experience.

L to R: Ovaries with lots of eggs attached, a series of four yolk sacks, and a small calcified egg.  The orange "eggs" were just yolk sacks and the small blue egg was only egg whites inside.  Interesting.  Vinny was a nearly 3 years old so I'm not surprised that her ovulation got messed up.

Testes on the left, Vinny's largest yolk sack on the right.

After Hannah left, I had time to jump into the shower to scrub off the dead chicken stink, gulp down some coffee and a granola bar, go to the store to buy 35 pounds of pork shoulder, and then bolt over to my professor's house for our annual sausage making party (which lasted until 9:30 pm...).  Whew.  But that'll be in another post.