Tuesday, Oct. 18, 2005
Dear Diary:

Have I mentioned Binky's near death experience? Have I mentioned his amazing transformation? No?

Well, therein lies a tale.

Several weeks ago Calvin finally showed up to do our landscaping job. The job he was supposed to do in June. Oh, but I was feeling a buttload of snit when he finally showed up.

Better late than never of course. With two backhoes and a dump truck all working, any thinking person would have expected to see me at the top of the hill by our house making scary territorial gorilla sounds and exultantly beating my chest. Diesel powered equipment doing my bidding has that effect on me, after all.

Ah, but there was a fly in my ointment. Not so much a fly as a cat. A snotty cat. A wheezing, sneezing snotty cat. Yep, the very day that my long deferred landscaping dream was about to be realized, Binky collapsed with a terrible case of feline respiratory virus, the very same illness that killed Vera.

The night before he sneezed a few times. I put that down to an excess of grooming because Binky and Savannah had gone on a lickdown rampage, grooming each other for eons. But the next morning there was no doubt he was sick. My little grey spitfire was a lethargic ball of feverish, sneezing cat.

Feline Respiratory Virus is insanely contagious. It's often fatal for very young cats and very old cats. Savannah is a very young cat and at 10 Zubby is getting on. And Binky had been in close contact with all three cats. Oh man.

With my heart in my throat I put him in a carrier and tore off to the vet's. When I got there and took him out of the carrier for her to examine, he was so weak that he just sat on her examining table weaving slightly. A long string of mucus oh so attractively ran from his nose to the table. One of his eyes was running. When she put the thermometer in his buttal region, an action that had made him mental only a week before elicited no response at all. The vet said he was very sick.

She gave him a dose of antibiotics from the small envelope of bills she made up for him, and a dose of fluids. As I put him back in the carrier for the drive home, she said the rest was pretty much up to Binky. As long as he kept eating and drinking he would pull through, but if he gave up he'd be gone in a few days. As an added bonus, I had to keep him as far from my other cats as possible because he was so contagious. The cats he had been around constantly for the last few days.

Fine.

When we got home I set up a litter box and food station for Binky in my office and cuddled him for a while, but it was clear all he wanted to do was sleep. I can't begin to tell you how helpless I felt looking down at that feverish, curled up ball o' gray.

On an off Savannah appeared on the other side of the door mewing plaintively, calling for her buddy. Each time I opened the door to go in or out she'd materialize and try to muscle in past me�I had to push her out of the way with my foot because my hands were covered with the virus from petting Binky. For almost two weeks each move in an out of my office had to be planned with military precision so I could thwart Savannah who was getting ever faster. Oh, so much fun.

The first day was the hardest because Binky showed little interest in food or water. Watching Vera fade away has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. The thought of going through it with another cat left me feeling depressed and weepy.

I ran out to the store and bought him several cans of tuna packed in oil and that turned things around. Of course, once the odour of that wafted through the house I had three other cats clustered on the other side of my office door giving me very accusing looks that pretty much telegraphed, "You love Binky better. He has very expensive tuna packed in oil and we have crappy cheapass cat food. We will be psychologically damaged for the rest of our fuzzy lives by your callous insensitivity."

And thus it was that three creatures, each with a brain about the size of a walnut, managed to guilt me into also buying them very expensive tuna packed in oil.

For those of you keeping score, it's now Cats 5,432, Marn 0.

After about a week Binky was back to his mischievous self, but still sneezing from time to time. The vet said he couldn't be let out of isolation until he hadn't sneezed for 24 hours. I tried explaining this to Binky and Savannah who spent a large part of their 1 � hours of daily wakefulness on either side of my office door pledging to each other they would be Best Friends 4 Evah.

They ignored my medical explanations and yelled back and forth to each other about what a witch I was for keeping them apart. They played footsie in the crack under the door, pretty much coating Savannah's paws with feline respiratory virus goodness.

Fine.

With my daughter coming home for Thanksgiving, I needed the sofa bed in my office for her. When she got home I freed Binky, who had been on antibiotics for 10 days at that point. I figured if the other cats were going to bust out in the respiratory infection they would have by that point, which was far past the incubation period.

You have never in your life seen so much joy. Seriously. Binky and Savannah spent hours chasing each other all over the house. Savannah seemed to be the tonic he needed and he's been well ever since. Touch wood. It took three rounds of antibiotics, though, to clear up his lungs.

Having Binky locked up in solitary confinement has had unintended consequences. Savannah is the Barney of cats, her theme song is the Barney song�"I love you, you love me �" No matter how many times Zub and Enid tried to smack her down, Savannah continued to greet them as cherished friends. She eventually wore them both down and Enid actually plays with her.

Since there's now no Savannah without Binky in tow, Enid has adjusted to Binky and she allows him to join in on the reindeer games. I know. I'm as shocked as you are.

Binky's time out in my office has mellowed him and Psycho Binky seems to be a creature of the past. He's taking his lead from Savannah and approaches the older, bigger cats with his tail in the air, the standard happy cat greeting. While the spousal unit leans towards the theory that nearly two weeks in isolation gave Binky time to reflect on the consequences of bad behaviour, my own personal take on this is that when he had the ferocious fever he may have fried his brain a little.

I'm all about the positivity.

This week we have allowed Binky and Savannah outside for a few hours each day to explore the woods near our home. The days are cold and wet, so they don't go far. Even with crappy weather, they love the adventure and have actually caught their first mouse.

Excuse me, I need a moment to dab the tears of joy. I am so proud of them.

We will just ignore the fact that during this same period, with four�count 'em four--cats in our home, we have caught three mice in traps in our kitchen. Apparently our cats don't feel any need to actually, oh, help out a little around here and do a little pest control. Lazy lie abouts. Savannah actually walked around the house with one mouse, still in the trap, in her mouth and declared it The Best Toy Evah, much to the hilarity of the spousal unit.

There have been other changes around the house. Plants have tumbled without explanation from windows. There is an enormous hole in the screen on our front door, exactly the size a cat needs to get in and out of the house. Dishes have fallen off counters and broken on the floor below. Some beef defrosting on the counter had an unexplained chunk missing. The purple happy fun ball of pain, humiliation and torture has sprung a leak.

Ghosts, or Binky and Savannah? Hrm.

Well, it is almost Hallowe'en �

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 1106.97 miles. 10 per cent rubber duck10 per cent rubber duck10 per cent rubber duck10 per cent rubber duckhalf way smooch10 per cent rubber duck Over half way there. Oh, man, please let this be over

Goal for 2005: 1,250 miles - 2000 kilometers


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