Journal of a Sabbatical

June 6, 2001

orange kittens

Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society

Quote of the Day: "Democrats take control of the Senate. No injuries or damage..." -- News reader on WNBP radio (The no injuries or damage actually applied to the next news item about Tropical Storm Alison - timing is everything.)

Today's Reading: Unbeaten Tracks in Japan by Isabella Bird, Summer from the Journals of Henry David Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake. An Exhilaration of Wings by Jen Hill, Sand Dunes and Salt Marshes by Charles Wendell Townsend

Today's Starting Pitcher: Frank Castillo

Yow! I stayed up for the entire 18 innings last night/this morning. I'm not sure what planet I'm on, but it appears to be ruled by cats. Blue (left) is on top of the cat gym in Savannah's usual spot. Seamus is terrorizing Stormy, who does not need to be terrorized. In fact Seamus is pouncing on just about everybody, making a real nuisance of himself. A trail of spilled coffee starts at the top of the fridge, crosses the top of the yellow bucket, and makes a Jackson Pollack pattern on the floor. That too is the work of Seamus who launched somebody's cup from the top of the fridge. He's doing a great job of impersonating Sandy.

I swear Roy just kissed Miss Newburyport. Shades of Roberta and Slinky! Bob and I keep threatening to make a hypnotic sleep tape to sneak into Roy's bedroom to convince his wife to let him adopt Miss Newburyport and/or Sandy. Now that Miss Newburyport is spoken for by one of the vets downstairs we'll have to refocus our persuasive efforts on behalf of Sandy. Bob is still off learning to drive buses, so besides not joking about the sleep tape and not swapping Navy stories, he's not doing the shopping. Uh oh! The big yellow bucket is almost empty. Litter crisis! Sound general quarters! Roy gets everybody all mobilized, then discovers the litter dispenser on the wall is full so he has enough litter for the community litter boxes after all. Whew!

We've got an orange cat invasion going on. Shaheen (left) is new and really sweet. Nobody got it when I asked if he was from New Hampshire (the governor there is named Shaheen). There's a litter of orange kittens in the office, which somebody has decided are Italian so named them Carmine, Enzo, and Vito. They all talk a blue streak like orange cats should and have fiery little personalities like miniature Wilburs or Sandys or Seamuses... Enzo (the dark orange one) is so adorable I want to take him home immediately. Wilbur wouldn't stand for it, of course. And would I really want two orange males in the same house? Carmine rolls over and looks totally cute and kittenish. Vito (the one with white on him) begs me to let him out so I pick him up and cuddle him but he wants to explore the desk and the nooks and crannies of the office.

A tiny gray tabby named Jemma is also in the office. Small enough to fit in a teacup she is. She seems kind of lethargic and floppy almost like she's weak or something. I hope she's OK.

So, no dawdling over coffee or seeking the common snipe this afternoon. I'm on a mission. A mission to Marblehead. I was browsing Much Ado Books' (where Domino now lives) web site last night and discovered that Domino is now named Dust Jacket. From what they wrote about her she doesn't seek out petting or lap sitting anymore. My heart went out to her. She sounded lonely. Maybe Marblehead is a big adjustment after Newburyport. So I resolved to make my much procrastinated on visit to Domino's new home to see for myself how she's doing and bring her an official Betty's special blend catnip fishy.

I introduce myself as a friend of Domino's. The owners at Much Ado are amazed and pleased that somebody would drive all the way from Newburyport to visit a cat. They show me to her special spot in the window. They tell me her new name is Dust Jacket, but as soon as I say "Domino" she lifts her sleepy head and meows at me. I swear she recognizes my voice, and she definitely recognizes me when I start petting her. She purrs up a storm and rubs her head against me. She grabs the catnip fishy and plays with it while still rubbing against me. I should point out that this whole little scene is taking place in the front window amidst a display of cat-related books and cozy furniture. I'm crouched on the floor stroking Domino in her bed in full view of passing tourists and locals alike.

A woman sees me in the window and smiles, starts to walk by, then comes in the store to talk about the cat. The owners tell her a friend of Dust Jacket's has come down to visit from Newburyport (which, by the way is a long drive and even longer if you get lost, which is fairly easy on the "near north shore"). The woman asks if it's another cat. I pipe up from the window "I'm human!" The woman ends up leaving without buying any books.

Domino/Dust Jacket gets up and gives me that follow-me meow with the over the shoulder are you coming look. I ask "Hey Domino, where are the bird books?" The owners tell me she hasn't learned the layout of the store yet. Since I've never been here (I have been to Much Ado once before but in their old smaller store next to Iggy's Breads of the World, about a block away) Domino hasn't had a chance to memorize my browsing patterns either. The owners direct me to the bird section while Domino tries to lead me to the basement, which, unlike at Olde Port, is private space. Domino goes off without me.

There on the shelf in front of me is Sand Dunes and Salt Marshes by Charles Wendell Townsend. I have been wanting this for months, even longer, since I bought his Beach Grass. I was just talking about it with Nancy this weekend because that anthology of bird-related writing (An Exhilaration of Wings by Jen Hill) has tons and tons and tons of excerpts from Sand Dunes and Salt Marshes and nary a one from Beach Grass. I start reading it right there in the store. Domino comes back from the basement and tells me some long involved story of her adventures.

I leave with a long coveted book and some reassurance that Domino is adjusting to her new home.

<