Life with animals...

Life with animals...  So this morning I was doing all my morning “animal chores”.  There are quite a few, and I'm on my own (Debbie is in Indiana helping care for her mom, who is recovering from a fall and broken leg).  We have an ancient cat that needs special care, nine other cats (some of whom also need some special care), four dogs that need walking and attention, and the hummingbirds that we feed.

As I was mixing up another batch of “hummingbird juice syrup” (concentrated sugar syrup with a little color), I heard a sound out in our hallway.  It's a sound that any cat owner knows well: that special “pre-retching” sound that immediately precedes the forcible, high-velocity ejection of either a hairball or a partially-digested meal (cats do this a lot for some reason).  I knew I had only seconds to act, and that the best I could hope to do was to move the cat to an easy-to-clean surface before the mess erupted.

So I ran into the next room, and quickly located the cat.  It was Maka Lea, our sweet little guy with psycho-motor problems, who has no idea he's handicapped.  But that's not why I located him quickly.  What gave him away was the four dogs.  All four muzzles were within an inch of Maka Lea's mouth.  The four dogs and one cat were arranged in a perfect five-pointed star, all heads at the center.  Doggie tails were wagging, and doggie faces were excited about the “treat” they knew was immediately forthcoming.

Sure enough, before I could get there, Maka Lea blew chunks (of the partially-digested cat food variety) at high velocity.  Very little of this hit the ground – four attentive dogs with their amazing tongues and gaping maws made a very efficient and hyperactive collection system.  What few tiny particles escaped and hit the carpet were soon dispatched by multiple passes of eager canine tongues. The dogs' initial expressions of pleasure and satisfaction soon turned to disappointment, when they figured out that their warm food dispenser was empty.

Maka Lea walked (to the extent that his form of locomotion can be called “walking” – it's really more like wobbling) to the water fountain and had himself a nice drink.  He looked quite happy, even pleased with himself.  The four dogs headed back to their doggie beds, happy for the unexpected treat, but disappointed that there wasn't more.

I can't even find the spot on the carpet where this happened...