Kitty Litter

Six weeks ago I was a perfectly average domestic diva. For the record, I coined this phrase in 1998 the year my son was born and actually had taken out the domain names including domesticdiva.org, domesticdiva.com - and then my DH said that I didn’t need them- had I only kept them…but I digress.

As I mentioned, a mere month and a half ago I was just doing my best to juggle housework, meal preparation, family outings, swim practice for an eleven year-old and the usual collection of things that take up time. I was plenty busy with daily life. It was rather routine, but comfortable. No complaints really.

Did I mention that was six weeks ago? Let us refer to that period of time as BP for ‘before pet.’ Now here I am six weeks later with a four-legged creature of the feline variety that has taken up residence within our house. Let us call this period of existence the Now Pet (NP.) This now ten month-old kitty named Hercules Apollo for his Herculean strength, has inserted himself smack dab in the middle of our daily life.

As a matter of fact he is more than comfortable and has made himself right at home. So much so that as soon as he hears a pot or a dish he comes running into the kitchen to see if perhaps there is a sweet nibblet available for his enjoyment. I know he comes running because around his neck is a crystal collar with a bell that jingles as soon as he takes a step. I would not be good with a stealth kitty under foot. Would not be a good thing – for him or me- or the family now that I think about it.

When said kitty hears me in the kitchen he can almost be assured that he will indeed be given a bit of something more than his rather drab and boring bowl of round brown pellets – the recommended diet from the veterinarian. So, he will often get a piece of chopped up deli ham or turkey on a plate that was part of our wedding registry (I digress once more). Hyacinth from “Keeping up Appearances" would be proud of me I am sure.

Kitty has his own little placemat with color coordinated bowls for water and dry food and then there is the lovely small china plate that holds special treats. Among his favorite are tuna, turkey and ham. He also enjoys a teaspoon or two of vanilla yogurt, but will not turn up his nose at blueberry yogurt for that matter.

Speaking of turning up one’s nose, he has developed quite the skill and does indeed register his dislike when I proffer him with salmon. After a sniff and a lick he turns his kitty eyes - two sparkling orbs – and implores me to take it away. If he really is displeased with the offered vittles he meows.

Imagine - it isn’t enough that we took him in when he was cold and hungry, that we provide him food and shelter, but now he has the audacity to meow when he wants something different. Like a petulant child. Indeed I say.

As life with a pet continues, I find that I think of kitty when I receive an interesting piece of mail that might provide entertainment for him. His hours are more like those of a movie star and he usually naps until well after noon unless I prod him awake for a bit of exercise.

I have created a few stimulation zones and try to insure that there are new and fun things for him to explore. His latest enrichment item is a Trader Joe paper bag in which I place toys from his treasure box - I am assuming that every kitty has a treasure box n'est pas?

Of course the whole kitty litter thing is an exercise in patient and humility. I try and change it daily. I don my mask, double bag and my scooper and get busy. It is a lovely site. Often Hercules will observe me from the doorway of the guest bathroom which is where we decided to place the kitty’s special throne.

He sits on his back legs with his front white mittens placed neatly in front of him with his head cocked to one side as if he is trying to figure out what it is I am doing.

“I am cleaning up your poop,” I explain. “I thought I was done with diapers but it seems I am not,” I sigh and he comes and nuzzles against my leg.

It is his way of saying thank you. At least that is what I imagine.

This is my life in the NP era….




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Tortoises, Turnips and Hippos

I like to be spontaneous which is why when my DS had asked me several weeks back what I wanted to do for Mother’s Day my reply was noncommittal and fluffy, “Oh let’s just see what they day brings,” said I.

One of the true luxuries of life for me is not having plans. So much of our daily life is microscopically planned, where one needs to be when, etc. So, when I have what I refer to as a “down” weekend or a “down” day- I am ecstatic. It means not having to be any place special at any given time. It means someone else isn’t waiting for me or a loved one to be at some special place at some special time. It means I can do things as I please, when I please.

Ah…the sweet delicious drink of nothingness. It is like no other.

I digress…

Yesterday being the day of giving thanks for Mothers I was thanked with some wonderful thoughts and sentiments by my two boys. And after a morning constitutional with DH to a local French bakery we sauntered back to the homestead where I made the spontaneous decision that I would like to go to the zoo.

Well, after a quick change of clothes we three amigos headed off to the San Diego Zoo. I figured there were few mothers who would want to spend the day grazing and gazing at bipeds, mammals and furry friends- and I was right. It was a beautiful day not too cold, not too hot and we had such a fun time chock full of adventures and laughter. And no crowds!

As always, we began our day with a visit to my ‘ancestors’ as my dear son refers to the wrinkled, wise and crone like features of the tortoises. The males can grow up to six feet from head to tail and can weigh up to 573 pounds. They can live up to more than 100 years- which is why my DS has decided that I will be a long living reptile – despite the fact that I am not a reptile, but perhaps I have more in common than I yet know.

We witnessed a great scene yesterday with a giant tortoise eating a delectable known as a turnip. A Nerf ball size sphere of scrumptiliciousness for a tortoise. How does a tortoise eat such a thing one might well ask. Well, we actually were privy to the amazing feat of this four footed RV on feet. A tortoise doesn’t have teeth, but rather a hard, sharpened edge that he uses to bite with, kind of like a bird’s beak. We stood in awe as this long necked leathered friend held this turnip between his two front feet and with his knife-like beak ripped off bits of the turnip which he managed to swallow whole and seemed to be in Tortoise nirvana.

After our visit to the tortoises we moved on to a collection of lizards in various shapes, sizes and colors sunning themselves on rocks and sand dunes in the soft morning light. We also went to see a show at the world-famous Wedgeworth amphitheater which featured some beautiful birds and a regal wolf and of course a very large sea lion – it was lots of fun - and wetness for those who dared get close enough- we know better and sit far enough back to avoid the splashes from these sea creatures.

Watching the tortoise gobble his lunch had made DS and DH a bit peckish and thus we set off for Albert’s restaurant in the tree house–like setting high above the animal enclosures below with a view that is spectacular and you feel as if you are nestled in a tree. The food was great, the wait was short and we had a lot of laughs.

Speaking of laughs…we strolled the path from Tiger River into the Ituri Forest where we were off to find Hippo Grotto. One of the boys’ most memorable exhibits. Why you might ask? Well, imagine if you will, a rather gregarious river hippo doing water ballet. The luxurious pool in which the hippo named Otis was swimming allowed us to witness some true acts of nature as only she Mother Nature could enable them to be.

We witnessed Otis in all his glory though the spectacular underwater viewing window which showed off his imminent releases – if you get my drift. The guffaws and the ribald laughter that came from the crowd of onlookers was priceless. Especially as we learned that the scratches on Otis were from his “introduction” to the female hippo- seems he is need of some hippo etiquette.
Speaking of etiquette, DS and DH are still laughing about the amount, duration and expanse of poor Otis’ releases- liquid and otherwise. Since this is a G-rated site I won’t belabor the point too much. The humans that came to see them Otis in his luxurious pool were not disappointed.

Great eye-to-nostril encounters were possible through the special underwater viewing window.
Since he’s a male hippo, Otis likes to mark his territory and does it with much exuberance. What does he use? His feces and urine, of course, and the more the better! His paddle-shaped tail swished back and forth as he pooped, making a jet stream along a rock wall along the backside of his enclosure.

Needless to say the boys are still talking about this once in a lifetime moment. And when we asked about this amazing activity in a gift shop the young gal explained that there is a zookeeper wall of shame where those unfortunate enough to be in the line of fire have experienced the almighty power of Otis…

Back to the concept of unplanned moments- we planned none of these great memories-and yet we all had a great time and laughed, learned lots and came away with a renewed respect for what the San Diego Zoo does for conservation and protection and education of animals big and small.

A great day indeed. Spontaneity is truly the spice of life. What more could a mom ask for than the love and good will of her significant others? Not much.

Dogs and Children and...me

Dogs and children.

These two life elements have somehow, for years, managed to find their way to me. Perhaps it is my smell, or the way I walk; perhaps it is the fact that I hum and talk to birds and insist that four legged and two legged creatures share with others. I am not sure. But it is a phenomenon that has caused some great chuckling around our house recently.

I can, for example, tell you with great certainty that if there is a pair of chocolate covered, mud splayed little hands in the vicinity of the mall, the post office, the bank, the grocery store, the dentist, the coffee shop, - they will find me- even if they don’t know me. I become the rail banister of out and about, with little runny noses and juice stained mouths somehow sharing their artistic creations with me wherever and whenever. I am the human magnet – for messy hands and messier mouths.

As a result, I usually can be found with a tissue in a pocket to help me remove said detritus after such experiences. Now, keep in mind, it is not as if I go seeking these types of mystical encounters. I do not stand in a doorway yelling “Yoo hoo, all little children who have just had a snack or finished making mud pies, come and give me a hug…”

As a matter of fact, I don’t think I do anything except maybe the fateful mistake of eye contact or a smile. Maybe that is it. In any case, I am beginning to do research on the relationship of dogs and children and middle aged moms (a shiver just ran down my spine at those two – excuse me three words…eeesh…who would have every thunk…who is that face in the mirror...) I stray from my story…

Take for example this past weekend. My DH (Dear Husband) and DS (Dear Son) decided it was time for a family constitutional – another word for a walk along our neighborhood three mile hiking trail. It is a nice easy stroll through a platoon of Eucalyptus trees – home to a motley collection of crows, sparrows and parrots. Each of these feathered creatures is in constant competition with its brethren for the loudest, shrillest, most awe-inspiring ‘song.’

The afternoon sky had turned to a soft shade of lavender and the sun was a soft butter yellow, sleepy and warm. We were walking along- the three of us, DH and I and DS on his scooter when from the opposite direction came a golden retriever puppy. His tail was wagging and he was sniffing everything in sight. As he came closer there was an audible groan from my walking companions.

I turned and saw the look of resignation on my DH’s face and a look of incredulousness on that of my DS. For they had been subjected to too many moment s of “Mom moments’ prone to happen especially on walks.

You see, I love animals – well, I suppose I should caveat that with I like most and have a healthy respect for others. The black widow spider who was attempting to make a nest for her babies in our garage had to be relocated. I did apologize to her that it really wasn’t personal, but that well, spiders of her elegance belonged elsewhere- far beyond the steps of our modest home. So I gingerly swept her up and placed her in the back yard behind a palm tree- hopefully she has found a liking for her new residence.

But I digress. If there is a puppy or full grown dog out for a stroll with his parents then I will of course ask if I may pet the canine and if granted, which is usually the case, I become one with my four legged friend. The dog will usually come and sniff my hand or sometimes disband with formalities and hop right into my lap. Depending on how big the dog is, sometimes I am knocked to the ground which I am sure is a very funny sight. Think Lucille Ball with brown hair. I need not say more.

On this occasion though, a new element came into the picture that had not previously presented itself. This aforementioned golden puppy with curious eyes and a black wet nose proceeded to come over to me looked at me with a tilted head. He (I am pretty sure it was a male) sat down in front of me and proceeded to – you guessed it – poop! Right there in the middle of the walking path. As if he were giving me a gift.

Now this had never happened before- at least not to me. And the owner was of course ready with her trusty blue poop bag and my son and husband were in stitches saying “Mom made the dog go poop. Look Mom you have magic poop powers!”

Once finished doing his business the puppy then gave me a smile – or what I believed to be a puppy smile and trotted off with his master. I am not sure if that smile meant, “Thanks I needed that,” or more along the lines,” Lady, you are full of sugar honey ice tea.” (NOTE this is a clean site so an acronym will have to do here…)

In any case, my life is never truly dull. And while this may seem like a farce, I stand before you and say: this is a true story there are three eyewitnesses.