Frisco on his Swing

I did try to take a snapshot without it appearing too yellow, but it didn't work out. Anyways, this is Frisco, on his day swing, right after a shower. He was grouchy today and nipped my finger, because I usually take him out in the mornings for a shower, not afternoon and because it's not his usual timing, he probably got pissed.

I should allow him more out time, but it's difficult with my work schedule and even if I'm at home, he cannot be left to attend to himself, because he will climb down and create situations with the cats. I'm not worried about his getting hurt by the cats, but more what he will do to them - since he already makes it a point to chase Pringles when he finds his way down his perch. He does it too silently and most times, I end up calling him - not that he will respond, because he knows when I'm searching for him and for that reason alone, he would hide behind some furniture.

I do feel terrible, not being able to have him out more often, but his cage is next to my favourite couch now and he does get to sit with me, sort of, daily - his cage used to be in the balcony, but it's now in the living room. So, perhaps that's why he's pissed off, but not as pissed off as he would normally be, without much out-time.

Duchess - a He, who is calle a She

This is a picture of the late Duchess - who is male actually but I didn't know better when I got him...so I made the ghastly mistake - which didn't seem to matter to him....

To a cat, a name is a word you call them by when you're about to either give them a back rub or serve them food.

He was indeed fat, too fat, but diets made him go crazy and so I just let it be.

He passed away years back. Thought to just upload this image, in case all other pictures get damaged.

Pringles at her best

If anything, Pringles is Miss Collapse. This is her posture most times, totally uninhibited and doesn't care where she parks her tail.

Hardworking Pringles

25 May 2009

This is her favourite spot in the afternoons, especially when my son is trying to do his revision.

Pringles was actually snoozing, but when she heard sounds coming from the camera and probably 'saw' the testing flash, thru half-closed eyes, she did what all vain cats do, perked up to strike a pose.

23 March 2009 - Nero goes home

Nero passed away the wee hours this morning - and well, there is not much sadness, since he's lived a very full, long life. Nero was my first cat and it was because of him that I got myself involved with animal welfare on a voluntary basis. He was my 'kid' even before my son came along. That would make him at least 17 years old.

In his life, especially the past few years, I've had occasions where I believed he wasn't going to make it - but he always survived.

This time around, I knew he was going to go for sure - any 'body' could only take so much of illness. He became blind a few years back, then slowly he was hard of hearing, teeth wasn't doing much good for him, so I converted him to soft foods only....finally, the suffering was over.

I told him he had been a good boy and he softly mewed - I also told him that he should just let go and stop the suffering - I'm sure he was - because Nero was never a cat that spent time sleeping - he was always busy chasing the other cats. Staying still must have been hard for him. He hated being caged, I used to have to do that, because he wouldn't allow any other cats to rest or eat.

It's the end of a chapter - rightly so.

No, I don't miss him that way - although I was the only person who could handle him, in his mad frenzy - he would never bite or scratch me - I gave him shelter, when he was a frightenend kitten, just fished out from some drain in Kim Keat - he was abused, had burns on his legs and was anything but a lovely, adorable kitten. He was spitting and clawing everything.

He's the last of the lot in my 'cat history'.

TO me, his passing is the beginning, because everything started with him and now that I have closed many chapters, he's taken my burden with him.

This is the last decent shot of him that I got and I'm posting it again - it's the last -

Goodbye Nero - thank god you didn't suffer much - mummy loves you and I wouldn't have it any other way for you....you waited for every one to pass on, before you left yourself....it's like cleaning things up - you didn't want to die and leave one of them behind...it's so corny....but so you....you were the first and wanted to be the last - you did it...you made it...now go rest

The Oldest

This is the oldest - still haven't decided what to name him or her......must find something that's more generic since i'm prone to giving females, male names and vice versa.

I had to pull them out of the nest box, since mama was only feeding this chick and she basically forgot about the other two. I am thinking this chick is probably just over 2 weeks. full feathers, he's able to climb and grip well. A bit silly still, but in a cute sort of way.

Are we there yet?

Here are the kiddies after their morning feed.

As you can see, they obviously hatched on different days. The oldest, who is very much like Mo, coz he's the most vocal already shows pin feathers. The youngest and probably the weakest, doesn't seem to be putting on weight much, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that she will survive.

Ever since Cocktail passed on, Woody their mom, is only feeding the oldest - she has somehow succumbed to post-natal blues and for 3 days now, hasn't fed the other two at all.

I don't know if we will get the all clear soon for the younger two, but I hope so, as they are really victims of circumstances.

Fatherless chicks

I'm running into a lot of problems feeding these chicks. The largest, haven't found a name for him yet, is so used to being fed by mummy that a syringe isn't his idea of getting himself fed. I have to coax him gently, which takes time, before he would take in the formula this way.

The youngest and smallest is probably the most vulnerable. He never gets heard nor fed. His crop is never full and thankfully, I check on him often enough to make sure he doesn't go hungry. I don't know if he'll survive this fiasco. I hope so, because he's the one most eager to be fed. But he's tiny, compared to the rest, and we all know that parent birds never bother about the weakest - it's like they cannot hear him peep.

I will do some pictures tomorrow.