Organizational Skills

I heard this morning that 32 million people will hit the road during the Memorial Day weekend. I will not be among them. Because of the number of cats living at Catland, it is difficult to find someone–other than my husband—who will take care of all ten of them. As a result, a “couples vacation” is a figment of my imagination.

But I began fantasizing (well, maybe that’s too evocative a word) this morning about how I could best organize all of the cat food so that a catsitter could feed the felines with ease. I take the routine at home for granted. A scoop from a jar at the far left of the kitchen counter; two scoops from the jars in the center; and two scoops from the two jars at the right of the counter. The same pattern is in place in the garage apartment. All of the Fancy Feast cans are stacked neatly and segregated according to the cats’ morning and evening fine-dining regimes. I never consult a to-do list, I just dole out the goods.

I suppose I could tap my editorial skills and rearrange the jars of dry cat food according to alpha listings, from left to right: Dietetic Maintenance, Purina Organic, and Science Diet Light and Science Diet Sensitive Stomach. Or I could rearrange the jars according to color-coordinated themes: small food particles (terracotta brown) grouped at left, medium-size food particles (reddish brown) in the center, and large food particles (ochre-yellow) at right. Or I could leave things as they are, already organized to my liking, and continue to recite my routine in my sleep.

Query of the Day: Will you travel with your cats this weekend?

Spontaneous Remission—Not!

Lucius has received a friendly reminder that the time has come to renew his Walgreens prescription card. In case you think I am kidding, check out the form letter signed by Walgreens’ Senior Vice President of Pharmacy Services.

If you need to buy prescription drugs for your cat, the Walgreens savings club is the way to go. With tiny insulin bottles costing $100 a pop, every penny counts.

The renewal notice coincided with my recent discovery that Lucius was avoiding his nightly dose of insulin. Gone were the evenings of his arriving on cue, eager to be poked in the butt, to put it bluntly. Much as I firmly believe that Lucius speaks to me, I couldn’t quite interpret his silent rejection of the medicine. Diabetes has ravaged his body, making him look very haggard and terribly thin. He needs insulin like many of us crave caffeine in the morning.

I called Dr. O. and shared my concerns. She explained that a very small percentage of cats go into what is termed “spontaneous remission.” Once she checked Lucius’s blood-sugar level, she confirmed that he had joined this minority. Had I not been suspicious and continued to give Lucius his insulin injections, per Dr. O’s previous orders, he would have probably overdosed and could have fallen into a diabetic coma.

That was then, several weeks ago, and this is now. Lucius’s blood-sugar level has reached the high-warning mark, and twice-daily injections are standing appointments on his schedule. I have advised Lucius to contact Walgreens immediately and to sign up for another year of helpful savings. I only wish there was a feline-only prescription club that sold certificates guaranteeing nine lives of perfect health for my special little man.

Query of the Day: Does your cat belong to a savings club?

Looking for Us

My sister, Marcy, gives me an annual subscription to “Kovels on Antiques and Collectibles,” a monthly newsletter for people who like to collect as well as deal and invest in antiques. In this month’s edition, Terry Kovel writes about “Fated Finds,” the objects that seem to appear out of nowhere but with a specific purpose, that is, they are searching for a new owner. She comments specifically on visiting an antiques fair and noticing a silver and citrine brooch by Ada Husted Anderson, known as “Andy,” with whom Ms. Kovel had worked long ago as a teenage counselor at a camp in Maine. Apparently, the brooch had Ms. Kovel in mind, and she obliged my taking her treasured find home to join other pieces in her jewelry collection.

I think often, and have blogged previously, about the relationship between art and antiques collectors and Cat Ladies. There are many similarities that fall into the broad category of love and obsession, and sometimes of sacrifice. The fundamental differences, at least to me, lie in the calculated moves of an owner to strategically collect and trade objects, compared with the irresistible, often unpredictable ticks of the caregiver’s heart to put compassion first above addictive instincts.

The already uncomfortable temperature here has kept stray cats out of my line of sight. I suspect they are hiding underneath cars or houses to seek shelter, or wherever they can protect themselves from the sizzling heat and oppressive humidity. But, like Ms. Kovel, who felt that fate intervened when the Andy-designed brooch appeared for sale one day, I am willing to bet that the stray cats of summer will find me, very soon.

Query of the Day: How many of your cats found you?

Big-Name Artists, No-Name Cats

I always enjoyed reading William Safire’s “On Language” column in the New York Times, especially when he regaled readers with tales from the “Gotcha! Gang.” Editors often have a field day catching inconsistencies and pointing out glaring omissions. As an editor for art books, I focus on the language used to describe artistic creation, and a point of entry is often the title of a work of art. Perhaps something is in the water (or the meow mix) because I keep finding images of artworks whose titles leave a lot to be desired by this Cat Lady.

Pablo Picasso did not seem to have any difficulty keeping his mistresses straight, yet in this painting he apparently chose not to cite the name of the cat held by one of his mistress-muses, Dora Maar. Alice Neel’s granddaughter, Victoria, surely had named the cat she held somewhat awkwardly. We know that a calico is always female, and I wonder if the notoriously argumentative Ms. Neel disapproved of the cat’s name? Could the name have been too conventional for the nonconformist artist? And then there is the quiet image by Otsuji Kiyoji of Ishimoto Yasuhiro on the streets of Kyoto. As Mr. Ishimoto approaches the lens of his tripod camera, a nameless white cat (though wearing a collar, hence presumably belonging to someone) gazes up at the photographer studiously at work.

What’s with these big-name artists and no-name cats? Although it is impossible to rewrite history, editors and Cat Ladies can make the case for equal naming opportunities for artists and felines. Won’t you join me?

By the way, if you are interested in reading more about Alice Neel and Ishimoto Yasuhiro, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, has recently published two major books that break new ground in presenting the respective careers of these artists. Visit www.yalebooks.com and buy your copies today! Just close your eyes when you read the captions accompanying the artworks illustrated here.

Query of the Day: Can you help me find the names of these cats?

Skating with the Felines

It’s time that Dancing with the Stars has some honest competition!

Check out L.B. ice-skating with his favorite partner, your very own Cat Lady.

Query of the Day: Do you like to shake (skate), rattle, and roll with your cats?

Cat Lady Camouflage

No worries! I have not done an about-face and gone undercover as a Cat Lady. Quite the contrary. I’m excited because I have a new business proposition.

When I awakened this morning, I noticed that I had a new set of scratch marks front and center on my right shoulder. I was more concerned than usual because with the heat and humidity ramping up here, it’s time to move to the sleeveless-only mode for work attire. Could I wear a shirtdress to the office without colleagues whispering that I may be addicted to something other than cats?

Wouldn’t it be great if the aestheticians at Lancome or Clinique would create a concealer specifically for camouflaging markings of the Cat Lady kind? I tried to apply my undereye concealer (the kind that gives that special raccoonlike effect) to cover the scratches, and then I used another concealer that is supposed to take the red out of mosquito bites, etc. But to no avail.

I know there is a brand named Physicians Formula, which is sold at drugstores and Target. Perhaps I can convince Dr. O. to market Veterinarians Formula. In response to our cats demonstrating their love in very intense ways, Dr. O. can cater to us, the Cat Ladies of the world who long only to wear their hearts on their sleeves, and to hide their kitties’ scratches.

Query of the Day: Do your cats scratch your back or other, more visible, body parts?

Strangers in the Night

I had to travel to Atlanta unexpectedly early this week when I received the sad news that my father was hospitalized. Happily, by the time I arrived in Atlanta, my father’s condition had stabilized a bit, and over the next few days he was able to benefit from an expanded system of support.

I knew that my abrupt departure from home would alarm our cats, and I worried that Lucius, in particular, would make me pay for my absence. But I had to tuck those thoughts away as I headed for Atlanta to be near my father’s bedside.

While in Atlanta, I was comforted not only by my mother and my brother, but also by my brother’s two cats, Squash and Mathis. They are elderly felines, and poor little Squash has great difficulty walking in a straight line. She also cannot jump like in the good old days of her youth. Mathis, on the other hand, still enjoys roaming outside and searching for chipmunks (so I have been told).

I am certain that both cats picked up on my vibes of feeling sad and discombobulated. They also seemed to know that I am a Cat Lady because on the first night that I slept in the guest bedroom of my brother’s house, Squash and Mathis found me. I was delighted to place Squash on the bed, and she promptly made a beeline for my chest, where she slept for most of the night. Mathis occupied a corner of the bed. I almost felt like I was at home again, if only there had been another eight cats encircling me.

I wish to thank Squash and Mathis, initially two strangers in the night, for watching over me protectively. They kept me company as I contemplated the fragility and unpredictability of life. I am a broken record, but I will repeat that people underestimate the perceptive powers of felines. I am grateful that Squash and Mathis trusted me to be attentive to them, and they returned the favor beyond measure.

Query of the Day: How do your cats know when you are facing tough times?