A week ago Marchesa was spending her days hiding in the basement. She came up at night to eat the food I left out for her, and would come over to us with a lot of coaxing and reassurance. If we stood up or moved too quickly, though, she’d dart back into the basement. She would lurk around the couch but didn’t have the nerve to actually jump up onto it. (Imagine that—a cat who won’t get on the couch!)

These days she meets me in the mornings demanding her breakfast, and precedes me to her food bowl. She climbs into my lap for petting until the kids start stirring. She no longer flees to the basement as soon as the kids start shuffling back and forth; she stands at the end of the hall, watching them until they actually head in her direction.

If Alpha Geek and I are watching television on the couch, she hops up in between us. She’ll bolt if either of us stands up (or if he coughs), but while she’s there she’ll curl up next to me for petting and start to purr. She’ll lay down next to Alpha Geek and stretch her little white forefeet out to him, giving him an appealing wide-eyed look until he reaches over and gives her a scritch. Then she’ll eel her way onto his lap and purr some more.

I would have posted this last night, but there was cat in my lap. And on my keyboard. And my desk. Then she noticed the mouse pointer and parked herself directly in front of my monitor to observe it. We had fun chasing the mouse pointer around the screen for a while.

I went to the Y this morning covered in cat hair. I missed that.

I had been wadding up balls of paper for her to chase around. Yesterday morning I discovered several shredded-up receipts laying about the kitchen. Alpha Geek, who had been up all night working on servers for a client, informed me that Marchesa prefers receipt paper to play with.

The first time I tried to open the blinds for her, she fled the room. Now she’s sitting on a table under the window watching the birds. I think she’s settling in.

 

Marchesa

Had my cell phone handy tonight when she hopped up on the couch with me for a couple of minutes. Later Alpha Geek and I sat on the floor petting her while she did figure eights around us. She was a little nervous about him at first, I think because he wasn’t making the reassuring crooning noises she was getting from me. But she quickly warmed up to him and almost crawled into his lap.

When we were signing the papers to adopt her, our adoption guide lady told us what kind of food they recommend—either a brand called Nutro, or the high-end Purina One they sell at pet stores (which is a better quality than the formula they sell at grocery stores).

Later that afternoon as I headed out to PetSmart to get cat food, Alpha Geek stopped me at the door. “It probably isn’t that much of a difference in price between the Purina and the Nutro, if you’ve only got one cat to feed,” he said. “We might as well get her the really good food.”

If he’s not careful she’s going to be just as spoiled as I am.

 

Last night, the boys and I were able to coax Marchesa into the carpeted living room. The Director sat on the kitchen floor, and the Artist and I sat in the living room; she followed our human relay into the new, unexplored region of the house. At first she only got her front feet on the carpet, and that was just too strange and she went back to the Director for reassurance. Finally she came all the way into the living room to get petting from the Artist. We don’t need treats to lure her; petting and attention is all the motivation she needs.

Later, after the boys were in bed, she came into the living room again for another wild new experience: she got on the couch with me.

She liked the couch. She stretched out, kneaded, and even flipped over onto her back for a moment. She was too antsy to stay there long, but she clearly enjoyed it.

She also ate all her kibble, so I’m no longer worried that she’s going to starve herself because she’s too tense to eat.

Now she’s hiding in the basement to recuperate from her adventures. We’ll probably see her again tonight.

May 192009
 

I’ve waited three years, and my new cat hasn’t shown up yet. Obviously I was just going to have to go find one.

Saturday afternoon the whole family went over to Second Chance to look at the cats they have for adoption. We went into several rooms full of cats; some were flirtatious, outgoing felines while others hung back and eyed us warily.

The Director was tickled by one cat who liked to climb onto his shoulders, but he was also a bit feisty about being picked up—perhaps not the best trait for a cat living with kids, even older ones. Alpha Geek was interested in one of the shy ones. “What’s the story with Marchesa?” he asked.

(They pronounced her name mar-KAY-sah, like the Marquases. I asked if she’d been named for the islands, but our guide didn’t know.)

Marchesa had been one of the cats who hung back and didn’t approach us, but when the Artist went over to pet her she stood and greeted him warmly. She was a young cat, about a year old. Our guide obligingly brought Marchesa in to the “Meet and Greet” room so we could have some one-on-one time with her. She was very nervous about being in the room (it smelled of dogs), but she was still affectionate and enjoyed being petted and held. Charmed by her sweet nature, we adopted her and brought her home.

She’s been completely freaked out. She was found abandoned with her siblings as kittens, and she’s spent her entire life in the shelter. She’s never had the run of a house or even been on carpet. Nothing here is familiar to her. There are no other cats, just four people she doesn’t know doing things she doesn’t understand.

She spent Saturday afternoon in hiding. We would go talk to her occasionally, and she would just look at us with huge green eyes. By Sunday she was camped out on the hearth of the fireplace, no longer hiding but not moving around either. However, we found that she was glad to have us come over and pet her, and would follow us when we moved away. In this fashion we’ve been coaxing her to explore the place. She’s like a toddler; she moves off to check out the surroundings, then comes back for reassurance before going off in another direction.

She’s getting more relaxed as she gets familiar with her environment. Last night she ate all the kibble I’d left out for her—I was getting worried that she hadn’t eaten anything since we brought her home. Now she’s hiding in the basement, but she comes out for petting if I go over and talk to her.

One of these days she’ll come out long enough for me to get a picture of her.

 

drill

While out running errands, I was reminded by numerous advertisements that tomorrow is Mother’s Day. So I got myself a Mother’s Day present:

…a brand-new cordless drill. 14.4 volts, 300 pounds of torque, keyless chuck and a spare battery. One way or another, something in this house is gonna get screwed.

 

Researchers find common genetic variations in autistic people:

The review showed that most autistic people examined have a genetic variation in a portion of their DNA that affects the way brain cells connect with one another. Scientists also reported a link between autism and small “mistakes” in another DNA segment involved with cell communication. Both reports add weight to the idea that autism is related to problems with the way brain cells connect.

This comes hard on the heels of news that Dr. Wakefield, who established a link between MMR vaccinations and autism, faked his results. Now we’ve got parents refusing to get their children vaccinated—leading to outbreaks of measles—and researchers trying to publicize actual facts getting death threats from rabid anti-vaxxers.

It’s genetic, people. The docs have suspected it since before Wakefield’s report in 1998, and now we’ve got DNA evidence. Really, wouldn’t you rather know what is actually causing autism, instead of blaming the wrong thing and doing more damage?

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