Journal of a Sabbatical

November 29, 2000

cats to the left of me, cats to right of me...

Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
herring gull
least bittern
great blue heron

Today's Reading: The Story of the Stone (a.k.a. Dream of the Red Chamber): Volume 4 by Cao Xueqin, Autumn from the Journal of Henry David Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake

Dream of the Red Chamber - greatly abridged

Academic Research and Info Center for Dream of the Red Chamber - even includes a list of all the dishes (and there a great many) served at the banquets described

I could use Miss Newburyport's knack for sleeping with one eye open. Actually I could use a cat nap. Last night I simply could not get to sleep, then when I finally did (around 3:20 or 4:00 AM)I couldn't stay asleep. I woke up again at 5:30 AM and vaguely considered just getting up, dressed, and breakfasted then but drifted off again until after 8:30, which caused me to get to the cat shelter after 9:30 and very bleary-eyed. Actually I'm still bleary-eyed tonight as I write this despite several cups of coffee. Oh well.

Anyway, Miss Newburyport is being nice today and accepting petting. Sandy is being a grouch and wanting only to scratch people and eat donuts, until he has an abrupt change of mood and decides to sit on Kendra's lap. Of course he could have another abrupt change of mood...

There are three adorable new cats, practically kittens. The orange one, Marmaduke, is such a cutie I want to take him home immediately despite Wilbur's objections. They're all cute, aren't they? Adopt them.

Otto stopped nibbling at the toes on his bum leg and posed for me. How could anyone not adopt this cat? Maybe we should get that guy who adopted Lefty the three-legged cat - the guy who sent us notes signed "Yours in Christ, Lefty" - to adopt Otto. It's so symmetric when people adopt cats with the same disabilities they have. Besides the one-legged man who adopted Lefty, there was a diabetic woman who adopted a diabetic cat, and I've heard the people who adopted Mitzy were very large.... Now all we need is a person with agoraphobia to adopt Frisco.

Actually, Frisco has improved quite a bit over the past couple of weeks. Now he ventures even into the other room. That's a big step from first cowering in his litter box then cowering in Sid's litter box. Frisco was even playing with a toy this morning.

Petey let me photograph him today too. Isn't he handsome? He's 14 years old and his person had to give him up because she married a guy who is allergic to cats and has cancer. I swear cat allergy is becoming more and more common. It's spreading. Soon it will be epidemic. Anyway, Petey is not happy to be in jail, umm, I mean the shelter. But he didn't hiss at me today the way he did last week.

Princess Catnip is so loving and cozy, I'd love to place her at Brigham Manor. Speaking of cat allergies, if only they'd set up cat and no-cat wings at Brigham they could have a cat like Princess to cheer people up, comfort them, and provide a link to the familiar and comfortable for Alzheimer's people. Somebody who wants a lap cat should take Princess. People who want a lap cat should not adopt Sandy even if he does have a moment on Kendra's lap without rending her.

Savannah just got spayed yesterday and is still a little out of it but she didn't hiss when I took her picture. I started to get punchy too, from lack of sleep, and just couldn't finish my ambitious plan to photograph every cat who is not presently on the web site. My once formidable technical writing talent loses something when called upon to describe all these former ferals or abandoned/strays. May I never be forced to use "Savannah is a short-haired female who came to us as a stray. She needs a little patience but will make a wonderful pet in a quiet home with adults. Savannah should be an indoor cat." as a writing sample.

The one who really challenges my once formidable technical writing skills is Stormy. Her cage card claims she is affectionate/friendly and enjoys petting. Where'd that come from? I sit at the conference table staring at my notebook. Where do I begin?

"Stormy is lots of fun unless you are a Maytag man"?

"Stormy enjoys rending towels and volunteers"?

Although Kendra is busy signing up a new volunteer and trying to stay calm with Sandy sitting on her lap, I beg her for inspiration. The final copy I send to "the new web guy" is "Stormy is a long-haired female abandoned/stray. She's very playful and lively. Stormy likes to play rough and is not recommended for a home with children." The thing of it is, I am sure there is a right home for Stormy, in which she and her people would be happy so I don't want to write things that will discourage potential adopters but I don't want to lead people on either. Anyway, I like this picture of her.

Silly me forgot the refuge is closed for the deer hunt today (and tomorrow). Silly me obliviously drove right past the big "refuge closed" sign and had to be told at the gate house. Deer? Oh, right deer. It wasn't a total loss though. As I was heading back toward the bridge on the Plum Island Turnpike I spotted a least bittern in the marsh, walking around in plain sight. Since when do bitterns make themselves so visible? Does it think it's surrounded by reeds when it's not?Can a bittern be delusional? Whatever. It was definitely a least bittern - a first for this year and a first for me on the island so it goes on the Plum Island list.

This just in, Starbucks has taken down their sign in the Forbidden City! Nancy just called to tell me she read an item about it in the Providence Journal. I guess they deemed it not in keeping with the historical facade or something. I didn't think it looked that bad, but I did laugh hysterically when I saw it.

On the home front, Wilbur got out while I was taking the trash to the dumpster this afternoon. I didn't notice right away but as I was up here in my office looking around and wondering where he'd gone to, I heard meowing coming from outside. I ran downstairs and there he was throwing himself against the door and trying to climb up the fence to the window to get my attention. The second I opened the door, he dashed back in. What is it with him? What do I have to do to convince him he's an indoor cat?

In other news, I finished the third volume of Dream of the Red Chamber last night and started the fourth volume this afternoon. I put a couple of links about it in today's entry: one to a kind of long summary or extremely short abridgment of the story, the second to a scholarly site full of lit-crit and information about it as well as lists of the dishes served at the banquets, flowers in the garden, and so on.