Floyd's Being Floyd

The last several weeks with Floyd have been rather taxing - and expensive. To start, a week ago yesterday, Floyd managed to escape outside. I was at my Arlington house when this happened so this is Roland's excuse...eh, account.

We've been giving Floyd a little laxative with his wet food to help things along. That Monday morning, Roland came out into the living room to check on Floyd who was in his crate parked on the sofa. A strong odor hit Roland in the face and when he looked inside the crate, Floyd had had a blow out and was covered with poo. In fact the whole crate got it. So, in the shower went Floyd for a good cleaning. Afterwords, Roland wrapped him in a towel and placed in him the kitty curl in a sun spot in front of the screen door.

Roland then went out to his car to get some cleaning supplies and when he opened the door to come back in, Floyd shot out. Apparently, he was healed enough to run like hell, as he climbed into the large wood pile shed along the side of the house, nowhere to be found. I figured he had had enough humiliation for one of his 9 lives. First came crapping all over himself, next came a bath. He figured that the bladder squeeze was next so thought, "I'm outa here!" He was out all night without having his bladder extracted since that morning, and we were worried sick that he was in dire straights. As it turned out, the next morning Roland found Floyd sunning himself and upon seeing Roland coming for him, ran under the greenhouse deck. Roland finally caught him with cat treat persuasion and brought him back in.

Floyd seemed fine, so we let him stay in the bedroom with a litter box and have found out that he is able to use it. So, hallelujah! However, last Saturday morning, Roland found Floyd passed out in the litter box (I always seem to be out of town when these things happen). Roland rushed Floyd back to the emergency vet (again!). He had no discernible blood pressure and a very low temperature reading. X-rays and blood work didn't reveal anything except some liver issues, so the vets at the hospital weren't sure what happened to him. They were thinking that he had a stroke or a hypoglycemic reaction (We declined the $600 ultra-sound test - enough is enough already). They stabilized him and got his temperature and blood pressure back up. After 2 days and more on the tab, Floyd was up and walking around being Floyd again like nothing ever happened. He's home now, back in the bedroom and back to using his litter box.

We are planning a trip to visit my folks on San Juan Island this month. Of course we'll take Floyd. I told Roland that if something happens with him, he'll just have to be helivaced to the emergency hopital in Lake city. No comment from Roland.

Purple Sprouting Entropy

Entropy: The second law of thermodynamics in that nature tends to take things from order to disorder in isolated systems.

The law of entropy can be applied to the vegetable garden. You see, I had good intentions of planting everything in nice, neat rows all labeled, but alas, entropy took over and as a 'piler' it wholeheartedly sought me out.

Right now, we have Purple Sprouting entropy. As I've stated in a previous post, this particular type of broccoli is meant to be planted in the fall to winter over as it takes 8 months until harvest. We planted ours last April from seed and thinned to around 18" apart. It isn't due to be harvested until this December according to the books. Meanwhile it has grown to gigantic proportions - over 5 1/2 feet tall with the raised bed - while occasionally spitting out flower heads the size of golf balls. And since the weather is getting cooler, it should get really happy and get even bigger; leaves that is. It's taken over almost the entire 4x8 foot bed and shows no sign of stopping. I haven't given it any fertilizer for months. I can't find the labels, but obviously don't need them as you can't mistake what it is.

I think this PS broccoli crop would make great inspiration for a Stephen King horror novel such as, "The Plant: Purple Sprouter" or a campy B grad movie, "Attack of the Killer Broccoli."

I also think that the physicist who came up with the entropy law was a piler.

The Poop Scoop

I grew up with a firm belief instilled in me on the importance of a good bowel movement. Since Floyd came home last week, he hadn't produced a poo for several days which had me concerned. He was also starting to get a little belligerent about the whole pee extraction thing, so we took him into the vet last Sunday to get another lesson on how to pee him, to pick up some more pain meds and to ask the vet about bowel movements. Floyd ended up getting an enema. Roland and I also got a lesson on how to give Floyd an enema and were plied with a bunch of rubber gloves, syringes and a long tube to take home. After Feline Enema 101, we took our care package and Floyd up to the front reception desk for another financial enema. I told Roland that we should have that poop bronzed.

During the visit, the vet assistant asked us if we'd be interested in having our cats come in and donate to the blood bank in exchange for certain veterinary care. I asked her that since we had 9 cats, did she think we could get $3200 worth of credit for Floyd. I think vets should offer punch cards for certain cats, sort of like espresso stands - 10 visits and the 11th is free. Floyd would certainly qualify for that program. We were debating on whether to change his name to Crystal Cruise.

Upon the prospect of shoving a tub of goo up Floyd's back side, and the fact that the vet told us that increasing the amount of laxative wouldn't hurt him, we proceeded to add larger amounts into his wet food. He is also eating more now, so his laxative amount has increased with that development.

Floyd went in this morning for an official follow-up visit with the surgeon, who managed to remove several hard poops out of him. Well, that must have popped the cork because when I came home and checked on him this afternoon, he was covered from head to toe. The only thing he didn't do was paint with it on the wall. (He could then get published in Why Cats Paint II.) Thank got for the lid on the crate! He had that pathetic look cats get on their faces after they've been humiliated and it's your fault. After putting the rubber gloves to good use and using up around 20 moist towelettes, I gave up and carried him into the bathtub for a hose down. He wasn't too happy about that and I could tell he was getting stronger as he tried to launch himself from my grasp several times. A careful good suds and rinse did the job. Now, at least he has something to do in his crate (no, not poop endlessly) as he is diligently cleaning his wet fur. However, if this is a sign of things to come (out), he may end up being the cleanest cat in the neighborhood before too long.

I think we can back off on the Metamucil now.

Update on Floyd's Condition

Floyd's been home for several days now. The surgeon decided not to operate for several reasons. First, he has enough space between his pelvic bones for his business to get through, and second, the place where they surgically attach the two bones is damaged and Dr. Walker thought it would cause more problems than solve. So, apparently, he will be able to walk just fine with time - about 6 weeks or so without the operation.

She's also not a tail amputater, and would rather wait to see how in the way it is. His tail's separated from his spine by about an inch, so he has no use of it. It's also as long as a train on a wedding dress and may drag behind him. His regular vet could remove it down the road, when everything in his poor body settles down. They usually leave enough behind so he would look like a Manx.

The only other issue is his continence. Four times a day, I physically extract his urine and try to get him to poop. He had a little poop on his own, yesterday, but he might be somewhat constipated from the pain killers. Been sneaking in the Metamucil with his wet food to help things along. With the nerve damage in his tail section, it's questionable that he'll be able to go potty on his own, but we'll wait and see. He gets pain meds twice a day and an anti-inflammatory once a day.

I also give him a good body rub down each time I check on him. He seems to like that. I think he's getting tired of confinement as he would like to get up and walk, but finds out quickly that that ain't working so well right now. I wonder if there's kitty PT.

Thanks to all of you for your concern. I know that Floyd is getting good vibes from all the well wishing energy, which most certainly helps in the healing process.

Floyd Happens

Well, this has been a week of being smucked by cars. Not only did I get hit a week ago, I'm sad to say that our funny little fur-face, Pretty Boy Floyd got struck by a car last Saturday afternoon.

I was sitting on my sofa when I heard this loud cat howling noise. At first I thought it was a cat fight. When I looked outside, I saw a car driving up the road and then saw Floyd dragging his back end behind our parked van and then out in front of it and across the street towards our house. Of course, the 'oh shits' came out of me and I immediately rushed out to stop him and then I carefully scooped him up and immediately headed for the house to grab the cat carrier. It took some juggling to open the thing, as I was on the front porch single-handedly removing the top half of the crate while cradling Floyd on my thigh. I placed him in the crate on a towel and closed it up.

The next challenge was to get him to the emergency vet. Having been in a car accident 5 days before, my car was not drivable, so I was quickly thinking about who I could call to get a ride. Roland was way off in Issaquah at a job site and not answering his cell phone. I was considering a taxi, when several women came up the front steps. One was a neighbor several doors up and the other was her mother, the one who accidentally ran over Floyd. They were looking for Floyd's owner. I explained my situation and the woman who hit Floyd offered to give us a ride to the vet! I have to say she felt awful about it, and didn't realize she hit a cat until she looked in the rear view mirror. She gave up an outing with her daughter to help Floyd and I out and stayed at the vet, until Floyd was triaged and I found out the damage from the vet. Then she gave me a ride home. She also gave me her name and phone number, wanting to be kept up to date on his condition.

From Floyd's injuries, she must have ran over his back end with her tire, breaking his pelvic bone and separating his tail bone. His legs are unbroken and fine. He has a spinal injury in his back, but the surgeon can't tell if it's causing a pinched nerve, or something more serious, based on the x-rays. His internal organs look to be OK although there is some blood in his urine. During the initial consultation, the vet asked me, "His eyes are rather googly. Was he liked that before he came in? Because if he wasn't, that indicates he's suffered brain damage."

"Oh, yeah." I said, "His eyes have always been like that. In fact, the more excited he gets, the more they spin. He's always been mental, but not from this."

Floyd has always been 'special'. Before this tragedy, Roland called him our $5,000 free cat. He fits the definition of 'Mog' for sure. When he was just a kitten, he found a dropped cold tablet on the floor and ate it, almost doing himself in then. Through his 7 years of life to date, he's been in the vet's office at least half a dozen times for being Floyd. The last vet visit was several months ago when he ingested something else that almost killed him. That was $1200. If it crashes in the house, it's Floyd.

Some folk will think, "He should have been an indoor cat."

But he would still have raided the medicine cabinet and have injested the poisonous stuff, if he could. Prior to this tragedy, he had already used up a great percentage of his cat allotted lives. I think he's finally on his 9th. But despite it all, he's such a lovable rogue, always happy to see us (except when it comes time to get flee treated or go to the vet. It's amazing how he senses these things). He's a happy go lucky sort of fella. Most of all he's ours to steward.

Today, Roland and I had to make the decision to move forward with surgery to fix his pelvis and amputate his tail, with the large possibility that he will be incontinent, or have him put down. Until you are faced with this position, you will never know how incredibly hard it is to make. Never mind the finances. There are other important considerations. Roland consulted with Floyd's regular vet who was faxed copies of the medical reports of his current condition. He also consulted with his old girlfriend who was around when Floyd was first brought home. That shows how torn Roland was about what to do. She said that Floyd's brother Vinnie whom she got custody of when they broke up, was acting very strange on the day of Floyd's accident - overly needy and clingy. Hmmmm. Feline collective unconsciousness, perhaps?

Now I know some folk think that spending all this money in the attempt to bring him back to somewhat functioning again is a waste of money and silliness. After all, he's just a cat, right? I embrace a different philosophy. No, cats aren't human but we feel that he has a right to life, like the rest of us and we have the means to help him. I know he doesn't understand what's happening to him, nor will express gratitude (except perhaps, in being home again). But he's a member of the family in feline form and we love him. He's obviously a tough little guy and a living, breathing entity and we feel a responsibility to try and make him whole again.

Now, quality of life is another matter. If his quality of life is to degraded, then we will have to rethink things. If he's not going to walk again, then that's another matter. You can't put a cat in a wheel chair. But, for now, if there's a level of hope, we will move forward. So what if we can't take that trip abroad we were planning on right now. We can take it later. We went and visited him yesterday, and got updated on his condition. He has reflexive movement in his back legs, so there's hope. He was happy to see us, purring and pussy-footing his blanket, although pretty doped up on pain killers.

Tomorrow or Thursday is surgery and then the long road to recovery for the little fella. Yes, I'll be helping him potty and probably spoon feeding him for a while. He'll be an indoor kitty from now on. We'll probably build him an outdoor enclosure of some sort, so he can get some fresh air.

One last thing. I've heard terrible stories of people who run over animals (by accident or otherwise) and then keep going. Look at how many hit and run drivers that have been on the news lately with just people involved! The woman who hit Floyd, and then was enormously compassionate enough to find his owner, and then give us a ride to the vet in time of need (it must have been extremely awkward for her) has greatly increased my somewhat low opinion of the existence of integrity and compassion in people. Call me a cynic, but it's too bad that there has to be a tragedy in order to see the humanity in humans, especially in the media. In talking with and listening to her share her experiences with pets, compassion is obviously a part of this woman's make up. I think if Floyd had to get hit by anyone, he was lucky enough to get hit by her.

Stop and Smell the Roses Especially If You Get Smucked By a Car

Nothing sucks more than having an injured back in the middle of prime gardening season. On my way to Ballard yesturday, I was driving across an intersection and BAM! I found myself spinning in a circle and landing halfway across a parking strip and sidewalk facing the opposite direction - a rather surreal experience. Apparently, the gentleman who plowed into me didn't realize that the light had changed and obviously didn't see me crossing in his path. Of course, people who saw what happened ran to my aid and called 911 which helped as when I tried, my cell phone battery died (of course). They were also just as (or more) concerned about my dog, Snorky, who was at ground zero as the offending car came straight at him. Luckily, he was strapped in with a harness and just got knocked off his car booster seat.

Of course the adrenalin was running and I was getting in and out of my car while snorting and hissing about this bit of bad luck, going for the pertinent information for the officers who showed up after the fire department. I felt shaken but not to physically bad really. My poor car didn't fare so well. The back passenger side wheel was bent in, my back door and back quarter panel are pretty crunched. I can't open the door. When Roland showed up he changed the tire to a rather skinny spare to avoid having the tire rub on the undercarriage. Being only a mile or so from Mog Cottage, I managed to limp the car home.

This morning I woke up with a stiff back which progressively got more stiff and sore as the day progressed. The adrenalin is now wearing off. Borrowing Roland's Subaru, I managed drive to my veg garden class this morning and managed to hold a hose and rake some compost, but couldn't do the cool stuff like laying a brick garden bed wall. The Doc told me that I probably won't be back to normal for 6 weeks or so and will probably feel worse before I feel better.

This brings me to the suckie part: it's hard to garden when you can't move well from the middle. And most of my classes this summer involve some amount of labor in the garden beds. You're probably thinking "Well, duh." Your also probably thinking that I got off with relatively little injury, considering the force of impact. I attribute that to driving a Subaru and where I got smucked on the car. I am thankful that I didn't get totally wiped out. I've seen those effects as a friend of mine had a serious accident several years ago that landed her in the hospital for weeks with multiple operations and permanent pins. She's finally starting to feel good again although never 100%

So, I'm really making sure not to have a pity party and just see this as one of life's inconveniences. Walking helps, so I walk my dog, Snorky and stop and smell the roses even though I can't bend over much to fertilize and prune them right now.

Crop Rotation: Filers vs. Pilers

In my estimation, there are two types of gardeners: pilers and filers. Filers are logical, linear thinkers whereas pilers think multi-directionally - all at once. I admit, Roland and I are pilers. Unfortunately, the practice of crop rotation is a linear activity. So, when my Culinary Art teachers assigned the class to create a 3 year crop rotation plan, I suddenly found myself with a BRAIN CRAMP. I have to actually organize and plan my garden space beyond this season. Yikes! I thought everything gets planted in Spring because all of the seed packets say to 'Plant after threat of last frost is over'. Now I have to consider Fall and Winter crops too and how they overlap with what's already there and whether they're compatible with each other and how to do the switch-a-roo when the summer season is ending, and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. A conspiracy of filers came up with the concept of crop rotation.

You see, the way each type of gardener views crop rotation has a lot to due with how they see the world. For instance, filers are who pilers deem anal. A filer's raised beds have hospital corners. When the seed package says to plant seed 2" apart, filers get out the ruler. Their radishes are perfectly lined up and perfectly spaced in perfect rows. Filers keep copious charts, graphs and records all in order and know to the hour when they can harvest their carrots. Filers live for organization, so they utilize their organizational skills to the utmost degree when planning a multi-year crop rotation. Their crop rotation charts looks something like this:Pilers on the other hand often drive filers crazy (with great pleasure, I think). To filers, pilers are a subspecies. Pilers have everything in their heads and can tell you in which pile something is and where in the pile to look. If pilers don't build structural raised beds, their corners morph into weedy wash outs or all the beds start to mush together. Pilers put 50 pounds of potatoes in a 5 pound sack. A piler's garden motto is, "We shall leave no ground uncovered!" And that's not necessarily with plants. To a piler, crop rotation looks something like this:


Roland took great pains to build our garden structures to give the illusion that we are striving to be filers so we can move up in the world. However, we're not fooling anyone, really. A closer look will reveal that between the beds are piles of wood for staking, bags of soil and compost, starts that we just couldn't cram in, but didn't have the heart to toss (uh huh), tools, pots full of various herbs and fruit trees and various ensembles of cats who think we built the tomato cloche for them.

In addition to being organizationally challenged, us pilers are often collectors. Roland likes to pile collections of cars, lumber, cats, tools and every scrap of paper that comes his way. I pile books, magazines, plants, boxes of wool and knitting projects, just to name a few. We eventually weed through it and pile the unwanted carbon materials in the burn box as we don't have a pile of compost yet because the pile of cars is in the way. Pilers have piles of stuff that we may find useful in the next century. Pilers keep thrift stores in business because we eventually drop off some of our stash, but seem to come home with more cool stuff we found when we couldn't resist and went inside for the hunt. Filers just dump and run (with their itemized receipt, of course). Pilers like garage sales that filers hold because filers get rid of very useful stuff such as perfectly good soaker hoses that have buggered areas. Pilers like to fix things.

Filers require everything in its place and if the place is full, then so be it, it goes. Pilers, on the other hand, always have room for one more thing and will find space. Pilers don't like to leave 2 feet between broccoli starts because that's open space that makes us anxious. Surely, something else can use that space, never mind the broccoli will take over and shade it all out. If it doesn't work out, we just consider this excess, planting our cover crops early, like killing two birds with one stone. Efficient, you know.

I know some of you are thinking, "But I have both qualities!" I'm happy that your life is well balanced. There is the possibility that you have a lot of inner conflict going on.

Filers would never strive to be pilers. However, as a piler, I often find myself trying to tap into my inner filer because zillions of dollars are spent each year on this endeavor as pilers are considered unable to efficiently function. We all want to be more efficient, don't we? Of course that doesn't last long, as once it's filed it doesn't exist anymore and I find myself wondering, "Now where the heck did I put that?" Eventually, I revert back to my natural state of piling, which makes life so much easier in a sense. Of course, computers have forced pilers to convert to a somewhat filing condition even though you will notice that the way the files are vertically presented on the file management interface, makes them look like piles. With that in mind, I'm typing this blog entry on my lap top which sits on top of a pile of unsorted bills on the wood stove, as the desk is covered with too many piles of seed packets and gardening books on how to do crop rotation.