Do Cats Get Headaches?

Last night I had a migraine.  Not your run of the mill headache.  This pain was epic.  Right between my neck and my temples...basically, my entire head.  It had a pulse.  I can imagine that it also was creating its own light source--red with an angry orange shooting out like lava from my ears.  I was thrashing around on my bed like a fish that had been hooked and dragged onto a boat.  Begging for mercy from the pharmaceutical geniuses of the world, I grabbed several containers of my favorite pain cocktails and poured myself a mixer of muscle relaxers and pain-be-gone and just lay there for at least 45 minutes staring at the ceiling waiting for deliverance. 

In this wild state of wacky medicinal la-la-land, I thought about my poor kitties at home in the heat without me.  I am on vacation (yes, what a great way to spend the night!!) and they have no one there to share their day with.  But then I thought about all the times I find them all curled up sleeping in little circles with their precious paws covering their eyes and wonder...do cats get headaches?  I mean, how would we know if they did?  They always wander around with a kind of devil-may-care attitude.  But how many times do we pay attention when they are REALLY trying to actively EVADE attention in that "I'm in pain" passive kind of way?  Those are the precise moments they look the most adorable and I can hardly resist picking up the little oom-foo-foo and feeling the body go limp and the tiny meow of protest.  Isn't that sweet?  So precious.

But maybe what we ought to be doing is massaging their little temples. Or their paws. You know all our nerves end in our feet and they have FOUR so if we can learn cat reflexology then if you can find a cat that allows you to massage its feet without ripping you to shreds--maybe we can cure all kinds of diseases without paying those exhorbitant vet bills!  Just imagine that kitty with the spa treatment...its a relaxing image...my headache is starting to subside...

AHA!  I've just realized one of the keys to getting rid of MY migraines is to imagine a cat at a spa!  Or maybe that's the drugs?  Or a cat taking drugs?  Definitely things don't make as much sense as they did before all the muscle relaxers kicked in...I wonder if they had cats at opium dens?  I wonder if the first person who discovered the power of opium had a cat?

I think I feel a lot better now.  The pulsing in my head is gone and now I just feel like it's just a great big cotton ball.  Better than a throbbing ball of red hot lava.  But I know for sure the next time I see my kitty laying down with his paws over his eyes blocking out the light, I am going to respect his space and just let him snooze.  After all, he may be dreaming about giving me a massage.

Weight Loss Challenge

When I weigh myself I often challenge the scale to a debate which sounds like this in my head.
    ME:  "My hair is wet. That has to add at least 4 pounds." 
    SCALE:  "But your hair is only 10 inches long and is towel-dry."
    ME: "And I forgot to exhale before I stepped on the scale. Let's try this again."
    SCALE:  "Right."
    ME: "Oops, I forgot to shave my legs before I weighed myself.  None of this matters."
    SCALE:"You need to see what matters from this angle."
    ME:  "Besides, I ate too much sodium last night so that added at least .8 oz"
    SCALE: "...?"
    ME: "I'm throwing this thing out."
    SCALE: "!!!!!*(&$"


What's the worst part of this debate is that I'm having it with an inanimate object and I think I lost.  Oh dear.  Tragically I have similar "conversations" like this with my hairbrush, my clothes, even my mirror.  I think I am definitely in need of a summer makeover.  To tell you the truth, I don't feel responsible for looking as shaggy as I feel and that's part of the problem.  I have chronic health issues and there are many days that I wake up and the most I can do is drag a toothbrush across my teeth and pretend not to feel like I was run over by a Zamboni.  But today I am sitting here confronted with my husband who just bounced into the living room all sweaty from a refreshing jog and looking like he just regained his youth and I feel I have somehow become a little too catlike in my demeanor.  I can sit here and blink at him slowly and lazily and it really wouldn't phase me if he poured me a saucer of milk at this point because I have become that slow-moving and even diligent in my sloth.  Something must be done.


I recollect my days as a teenager and energy and wild abandon I had and the restraint it took just to sit still. Where did that go?  Does this happen to everyone when they reach their 40s?  Right now I could probably win a sleeping marathon.  The other day I went to bed around 10pm and when I woke up the next morning, I was in the exact same position I fell asleep in.  I'm not sure that's natural.  Or healthy.  I was so freaking tired from doing nothing all day that I was exhausted.  What was that about?


So I have spent entirely too much time with my cats, watching them, admiring their ability to do nothing and be professional slackers and now I have begun to emulate them and I need to tear myself away and get in shape.  I don't want to LOOK like my cats.  Tigger has the worst physique and I don't think my husband is very attracted to that look at all.  I definitely don't want my belly dragging around on the ground when I crawl.  Ewww. I exaggerate, his belly doesn't drag.  But it definitely hangs low.

So today is the first day of "the rest of my life" and I'm wondering if I can get the kitties to take an interest in the treadmill with me?  It's a shame I can't get them to work out.  I am going to include my favorite cat exercise video for your viewing pleasure and if there is any comment you can share to motivate me I sure would appreciate it.  Writing a blog is a very sedentary exercise so it's time for me to get off my butt for now.  Wish me luck!!!

Crowded Spaces

So I haven't been a very good blogger lately.  The truth is my older daughter is home from college and when she returned, so did her STUFF.  She had quite a collection to sort through (read: Mommy had a collection to sort through) which included extra bedding which she announced she will never need again (why do all colleges make you buy XL twin sheets?) and an assortment of plastic cups with her college logo, books, lamps, bags, crates, and many things that need a designated corner of the house until next semester when we ship her back to school.  She will start to accumulate more stuff as summer passes because she is moving off campus, so naturally we "need" to acquire a pile of things for the apartment.  Glassware, dishes, pots/pans, more bedding, and the list goes on. The puddle of stuff spreading around the space with her things feels like quicksand.  I sigh because I can't see the carpet anymore and everywhere I turn is a pair of flip flops and a discarded sweatshirt, and this doesn't have anything to do with the group of things that has to go back to college.  I am being invaded by teenage chaos and I know as a mom I'm supposed to cherish these moments and lovingly caress the mess or something.  But instead I seclude myself in my bedroom where I thought I had my own private order.  But the mess seems to leak into my space too and there really is no escape.  Why does this affect my blogging, you ask?  Because I have very little imagination when I'm too busy massaging my temples and chanting to myself, "do NOT freak out...it's only a LITTLE messy...be more like the honey badger..."  Click to see the link to the crazyass honeybadger

Toonsis "hiding" in the paperwork

What has this got to do with cats?  The source of all DE-stressing for me lately has been related to grabbing the closest fuzzball and stroking it until it either hisses or falls asleep.  But perhaps I am a little too affectionate because they are also starting to crowd me a bit.  Just a moment ago as I was typing, Toonsis decided it wasn't good enough to sit near me, she had to crawl into the smallest space by the desk which already happened to be loaded with papers, envelopes, and our modem.  I'm sure she thinks crawling around on a shelf is great fun, but crashing our modem because she hits the rocker switch with her kneading action isn't my idea of togetherness.  What a twit.


And Tigger isn't satisfied to sit beside me either.  He has to share my chair.  He becomes a back rest or kind of a lumbar support, if you will.  At least I don't have to throw him in the microwave to keep him warm.  The vibration from the purring is kind of nice actually.  I'll keep it.

Tigger, my lumbar support

Cutest most stupid kitty

Pepper on the other hand, just sits about 3 yards away looking at me with mischief on her face.  She is the dumbest kitten I've ever known.  I don't know what she's thinking.  But I'm sure it goes something like this, "duh duh duh."  And then she will literally jump straight up and take off with her rear claws trying to get traction on the wood floor.  What a dope.  But what a cutie.  Sheesh.

Cats don't mind messes, or sharing space (mostly), or having a little too much stuff.  The more stuff the better, I think because then there is something to drag around and howl about when you're being ignored or at 3am.  The thing they are very good at is getting right up in your business and making sure you know they are there, and you MUST pay attention to them, IMMEDIATELY.  Ignoring them is not an option.  So, for now, I will just try to refocus on the cats and turn away from the habitat.  Maybe then I can get back to blogging.

Amusement Parks for Cats

When I was packing my 14 year old up this morning for her band competition at Hershey Park, I was imagining her day ahead--filled with sunshine and junk food, long lines, humidity, alternating total boredom surrounded by five minutes of madness.  Good times. If you are not familiar with Hershey Park, PA this is a golden shining place with roller coasters and screaming people with liquid courage who spew that courage at high speeds and high places.  "Dude! Your face was sooo green!  HAHAHA!"    And I need to mention the high point of the day is the tour of the Hershey Chocolate Factory where she can see the history of how chocolate is made, and all the tours empty into the majesty of the MOTHER OF ALL CHOCOLATE STORES.  I guarantee this semi-supervised child of mine will come home with a tummy ache, or some leftover piece of solid chocolate that looks more like brown sugar lava due to the body heat and crushing blows of the rides she will endure (or shall I say self-inflict?) throughout the day.  Better have the Pepto-Bismol ready for our happy reunion tonight.

Of course you know where this is headed...wouldn't it be GRAND if there was an amusement park for CATS??  Maybe a place where we could take them for the day rather than a boarding kennel?  I can name some of the wonderful rides and attractions that would be suitable for such an endeavor:

The Tilt-A-Hurl

1:   The TILT-A-HURL.  Everyone knows this kitty ride.  Why not just gather up all of your cats with inner-ear or gastric issues and let them bond on this contraption where they can gag and barf and do all their wretching in one place?  There will be an attendant with his/her mop at the ready and their Nature's Miracle™ to make it all fresh for the next batch of guests.

The CAT-a-PULT

 2:  The CAT-a-PULT:  Does your cat seem to be able to defy gravity?  Let's find out for sure by strapping them into a device that shotputs them into space.  Waivers must be signed at the front of the park.  No declawed cats will be permitted.

3.  Mouse Hunt:  It's like the hall of mirrors, but there are no mirrors.  And no halls.  Just an unfinished factory with mice.  One mouse per cat.

MOUSE HUNT

The Witch's Friend

4.  Witch's Friend:  The black cat special!  Have your cat's picture taken with a menopausal reality show celebrity!! You have your selection from a variety of guests depending on the desperation of the housewife of the season.

THE INCREDIBLE BULK

5.  The INCREDIBLE BULK:  Like the Incredible Hulk, this cat gets ugly when he's mad...so you can ride this bad boy if you dare!  It's an enormous roller coaster meant to give the illusion of speed, but because it's actually a simulated geriatric cat who got his tail caught in a screen door, it might not be that fast, just random.  Every ride is unique.

?!?!?!?!?

 6.  The BALLOON RIDE:  What park would be complete without a ride that drops you to earth without a safety net?  We have this for you...Have you ever seen a cat get partly stuck in a plastic grocery bag and then not understand what it's being attacked by?  This is the concept--Your cat will be gently guided into a bag and then released into a large showroom of dining room tables and stairways and ramps.  What fun!!

These are just ideas off the top of my head.  I can assure you I have thousands more.  I haven't even begun to list the snack ideas and entertainers.  What do you think?  Could we make any money?

What's in a Name?

The other day I found out that my given name, Teresa, is represented in the Catholic faith as Saint Teresa de Avila--the patron saint of Headache Sufferers.  I kid you not.  Oy vey.  How apropos. Were my parents psychic when they named me?  Or was this a naming curse? After all, I suffer from terrible migraines to the extent that I take daily medicines to prevent them.  Saint Teresa also suffered a great number of physical afflictions throughout her lifetime.  I have had my fair share of health issues in recent years, but I don't want to blame it on my birth name.  But I have to wonder how much emphasis we place on the naming process and I suggest we be more careful about assigning them even to our pets because I think they live into those labels. 

My pets, for example, are named Tigger, Toonsis, and Pepper.  Tigger was so named because of his cross-eyes and playful nature, and we felt a more cartoonish name seemed appropriate.  He resembles all things "Tigger-ish".  Now I see how many Tiggers there are and his name seems so ordinary.   But he will answer to anything.  Dumdum, Here-Boy, Hey You, Get Down, but my husband's personal favorite is Dumb Shit.


Toonsis was named after a Saturday Night Live skit from the 80s.  (see video)  My daughter and I loved the sketch about a cat that could drive a car and in every episode it drives the family off a cliff.  This absurd and childish skit makes no sense, but for some reason having our own Toonsis and telling people her name and them catching the reference brings everyone a laugh.  We just love to say, "Toonsis!  Look out!"

Pepper went through a few different names because we didn't plan to adopt her.  We thought about giving her a title, such as "Mrs. Piddlesworth" or a very human name like Susan.  We were imagining her potential families saying her name at the shelter and to us that was a form of entertainment.  But once we realized we were stuck with her, the bad attitude she had just made the spicy nature of her name stick.  She's so full of herself but so cute.  You just want a dash of her.  But you can only take a little Pepper.



But what about the people who name their KIDS things I wouldn't name my pets?  If I named my cat Blue Ivy you might think I was a little odd. "Would you take Apple for a walk?"  Coco is definitely a dog name.  I wouldn't be surprised if we hear more celebrity names like Whisper Waterbottle, or Wallow Basket, or Meander Mikah.  You wait.  I feel bad for these kids because someday they may marry other celebrities and become Mrs. Blue Ivy Blanket Jackson, or Mrs. Apple Ice-T (??).  Seriously, folks, what were they thinking?


So in the future, I will probably continue to give the cat names serious thought.  And I'm always curious about the names other people give to their pets.  But when I meet a person who names their animal something funny, just to get a laugh, I know I've met a kindred soul.  Sorry, kitty.  Nothing personal.  You know I won't be calling you by your name much anyway unless you deserve it.

(Email blog fans, you need to log into the web version to see the Toonces video below, please click the link at the bottom of the page

Unlikely Couples

Today is somewhat of an "anniversary" for me an my husband.  Well, not April 18, exactly.  But it's a special day to be sure because this is the 24th annual TAX SEASON we've survived as a couple.  My husband is the brilliant CPA and works diligently every year to bring home the bacon, and I am the one who spends it. We've been together for almost 28 years if you include college and all our friends will tell you that we are probably an unlikely pair if first impressions mean anything.  He is quiet and reserved where I am talkative and outgoing.  He is dignified and sensible where I am silly and enjoy making a fool out of myself.  He is very steady and predictable, but I have mood swings that make me feel animated and excited one day, and emotional and weepy the next.  He is the Yin to my Yang.  We completely balance each other out.  You would think he would get frustrated having to deal with an unbalanced character like me (this is where a friend would say, "Oh, don't be ridiculous!") but my tendency to overreact when he will chill makes us such a good match.  We're like a chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream cone. 

I have found that we aren't the only ones who are attracted to opposites.  I love to watch the Ellen Degeneres show and she plays her favorite videos of animals playing or snuggling together.  Quite often they are completely different species!  The absolute STRANGEST I've seen is the one in this blog with the cat and the dolphin.  Think about this when you watch it.  These are creatures that would NEVER encounter each other in their natural habitat.  Yet they are doing their best to embrace each other as if they are long-lost friends.  The cat is showing affection with head butts and face wiping and the dolphin eagerly comes back for more.  I also have to comment that this cat is quite comfortable on a boat which in itself is extraordinary because just getting my cats into a car requires crates or sedatives, maybe even both.

So how do we explain this strange attraction?  Is it chemistry?  Does the cat smell the dolphin and think, "Mmmm....fish breath?"  Does the dolphin smell the cat and think, "Here's an hors d'oeuvre I've never tried..."  I don't think so.  They don't look like they want to eat each others faces like some teenagers I see when they first experience a chemical attraction.

Is it me or is this an odd pair?

So we celebrate today, the first day tax season is over, because he has been working incredibly long hours for months.  And I know it could be a lot worse--there are wives whose husbands travel for a living, have on-call jobs and disappear at a moment's notice, or are deployed now protecting our country.  My hats off to you, ladies!!  But I chose a man who will come home every night, dog-tired, but he's there, grasping the remote control in his hand as he drifts off to sleep on the couch.  We like this time of year because we have to "reconnect" and this is just another way of saying I don't choose the reality shows anymore and he gets to catch up on all those "This Old House" episodes he recorded.  Ho hum.  It's okay.  Somewhere in that humdrum we find the balance again and will do the human version of the cat/dolphin greeting and life is good.

Chattering at Bugs

Oh Dear.  I must have left the window open again because there is that sound again...the chirping and tweeting.  It's coming from the screened porch.  You might suspect that a bird has flown INTO our porch, but the chirping I'm referring to is the bizarre sounds my cat is making staring outside at the activity in the yard.  Pepper is particularly fascinated this morning with a stink bug today, which is making its way across a screen on the inside of a window frame.  She can touch it but first she is giving it hell as she chatters away telling it exactly what she thinks of it taking its time moving so slowly across our home and her view.  Yesterday it was a cardinal.  She can go on for a long time in this crouch-pounce pose like she is poised to strike, staring at her pretend prey, and totally give herself away with this weak impression of a chipmunk or chattering squirrel.  I have to wonder if she is attempting to camouflage herself with that noise, as if she's not this enormous fluffy pretender, stuttering with staccato chirps as if she's another bird or bug?  Out of the five cats I've owned, only two have made this predatory...vocal assault...on visual stimulus.  I'm not sure what else to say.  It's not like the cat is pouncing on anything.  She's just sitting there.  Squawking. Her head is bobbing around and her eyes are all big and taking everything in, but it's kind of pathetic because a cat that chirps is a little...awkward.

So this is what the cat is thinking

I know this is a common behavior in cats.  The thing I'm not sure about is why they are communicating like this.  Is it irritation, excitement, or frustration? Is it a way of blending? A threat? Or is this just another one of those many cat languages that we will never adequately comprehend yet will exploit with our many cameras and iPhones?  It is too funny to ignore and so engaging.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks so and I have YouTube to confirm this...see the end of my blog. Uh oh, she ate a stink bug.  Now her breath is going to stink more than usual.  My daughter thinks those insects smell like rotten bread.  What is she doing sniffing rotten bread?!?!

Who farted?

So Pepper has moved on from squawking to stalking and has caught one of her claws in our screen.  THIS really offends me because when she retracts her claw she takes a piece of screen which means there's another little weensy hole for more stinkbugs to enter through. Therefore, I have to come after her with the newspaper I was going to use on the bug. So the cycle works like this:  Stare.  Chatter.  Stalk.  Strike.  Stuck.  Be Struck.

I don't want to be a stink bug

Please don't think I abuse my rotten kitty.  I don't actually use force with the newspaper--it merely GRAZES her as I swipe the air in her general vicinity.   Then I turn it into a funnel to capture my stink bug population and transfer them to a new home.  Elsewhere.  I NEVER SMUSH THEM.  My husband puts them in a bucket with a tiny bit of bleach.  It's gross.  I usually just scatter them outside even though I know they will probably just return to my screen another time, but there's a tiny piece of me that worries about Karma and what if I come back in the next life as a stinky bug?  Deep, huh?  Ha ha.  If I come back as a stinky bug I probably deserve it.  SMUSH!!

Chattering Kitty
 Another Chirping Cat