Live from Boise following the Idaho Erben's one post at a time…

The Squirrel Situation – A Photographic Insight

Probably need to keep this short as the end of Dad and Tyler time draws near, and I must prepare myself for the insanity I subject myself to five days a week. Tyler is catching a few Z's here on the floor, so I slapped together another gallery. But, get this, it is NOT a Tyler related gallery. No no no...that kid has been pushed to the back seat, this time, we have dogs and squirrels.

For those of you lucky enough to talk to us on the phone, or visit us, you may be familiar with our squirrel problem. See, it is not that squirrels are causing damage to our property, it is that they are playing evil mind games with the dogs. Eros and Ralph are part of the anti-squirrel league, a group formed by many canines across the US, and flourishing since the advent of email. Through this network, they communicate, share stories, and learn new hunting techniques. For example, it is not enough to go outside and bark at the squirrel. Eros has perfected the "uber-still-no-flinch" move in which she becomes a rock, and does not budge. However, she keeps her legs cocked, and when the squirrel is lured into thinking she is a statue, and attempts to make a getaway, she breaks loose and begins the "hot pursuit".

So far, the dogs are 0-for-531 in catching a squirrel, but it is not for a lack of trying. We are also now part of a squirrel civil war in which one squirrel, we call him Maverick, is trying to edge in on the home turf of Lupus, our long-time resident. This has increased the tendency for the squirrels to make less thoughtful moves, and to venture into the yard, marking their territory.

Last week, I caught Lupus (I think, still trying to figure out which is which, they all look the same to me) checking out the yard. While the dogs waited patiently in the house, I snapped a few pictures, then opened the flood gate. Here are a few shots from this day.

Gonzo 11/24/86 – 4/21/05, a Tribute

Sadly, the day that many thought may never get here, has come and gone. Gonzo, my cat for the majority of my life, left this world peacefully yesterday at 3:03PM. I wanted to give her a proper eulogy, so I apologize for the length that this post may become. As I think over her very long life, 18 years 4 months 28 days, I am reminded of so many stories and personality quirks. I wanted to walk through some of them. As I know many of you have met, lived with or been around Gonzo, I encourage any of you that would like to share your most memorable "Gonzo moments" to do so in the "comment" section of this utility.

The first time I met Gonzo, it was Christmas break of my 6th grade year. A co-worker of my mom had a cat who had kittens and they had one left. The runt. My mom, sister and I showed up to pick her up and was told that the night before, the lady's husband had to shut down and move the water heater because the kitty we were getting was stuck and needed rescuing. I'm sure that my mother was wondering what she was getting into. Little did we know. She was the cutest kitten with fluffy hair that stuck out, a head a little too big for her body, and a pair of big blue-green eyes. She was 5 weeks old. She was a very curious cat and smart. You could almost see her brain working on "how" to get somewhere when she was determined.

When we got her home, I remember her walking through the living room. She still hadn't "mastered" the use of her claws. She was strutting (as only Gonzo can strut) through the room and one of her claws got stuck in the carpet and she promptly completed a major face plant. Because she was so little, my parents didn't want her wandering through the house alone, so at night she was closed in my bedroom. Among a waterbed which a little kitten enjoys, I also had a metal dresser. She used to run around like I have seen other animals, in a crazy, sporadic pattern. One night, after I had turned off the lights and was in that blissful moment right before falling asleep, I heard her running around, and then a very loud *GOOONNNGG*. I'm still not sure what part of her actually hit the dresser, but she was definitely dazed.

I don't know what "sense" it knocked into her, but from that point on she became very deliberate in all her moves. Every part of her had to be "just so", the tail perfectly curved around her feet when sitting, her nose just slightly elevated, every hair in perfect placement. This earned her the description of "snobby cat" from many of my family and friends. During this phase of her life she developed a particular taste for ice water and bathtub/shower water. You could never leave a glass of ice water unattended, because she would either be drinking it. Or in her infinite wisdom, if she couldn't get her head into the glass far enough to reach the water, she would knock the glass over to get the ice on the floor. She would also "take showers" with you. She would sit on the edge of the bathtub between the two shower curtains so that she could "peek out" and not get wet, but still be able to lick the water gathered on the tile. After a while, she found a drippy faucet and found that she could get fresh, cold water at her leisure.

At 6 months old, just a couple days after getting fixed, she snuck out of the house and disappeared for a week and a half. We were just sure that someone stole her, or she was run over. My sister and I never gave up hope though. Sure enough, a week and a half later she showed up on our doorstep a lot lighter, REALLY hungry and a new meow. Come to find out, she had been locked into our elderly neighbors crawl space. Their hearing was not the sharpest, and they couldn't hear her. However, this event proved that Gonzo had a steely determination and will to live that would stay with her throughout her life. My mom also insists that this event "broke her meow-er" as from this point on, she had the loudest, most insistent meow that I've ever heard on a cat.

At this point in her life, Gonzo became mainly an indoor cat by her own choosing. She rarely went outside and only would if you left the door "propped open" for a speedy escape if needed. She rarely ventured farther than 20 feet from the door.

Our move from Colorado to Wyoming was an interesting phase of events. Gonzo had to not only move, but she had to move 3 times in 4 months. She endured living in a motel room for a month, living basically locked in one room in my Granny and Pa's house and then finally moving into our own house in Laramie. When living in my grandparents house, she had to stay in one room because my grandparents had a black male cat named Jack. Jack figured out that there was a "girl cat" in the house and began bringing her "presents". Numerous were the mornings that my mom woke up and opened her bedroom door to find a dead mouse, bird and various other animals. I found it quite cute that Jack was courting her, but I believe that my mom felt otherwise.

When in Laramie, for the first time, Gonzo was not an "only cat". My sister got a kitten by the name of Sebastian. Gonzo was not thrilled with a kitten chasing her around and idolizing her, as Sebastian did. Unfortunately, Sebastian never learned to use the litterbox properly, and she became a happy only kitty again. At this point, Gonzo started going outside more often. She enjoyed going out on a warm summer's night. The problem with this is that our family are all fairly heavy sleepers and have become used to ignoring Gonzo's meows. When she would want in at 3:00 in the morning, she would meow. Occasionally, we would get a phonecall in which the caller would hang up as soon as we answered, but then realized that Gonzo was outside. We believe it was a neighbor awakened by Gonzo and they were subtly telling us to let our obnoxious cat in!

I believe that it was at this phase of Gonzo's life that she realized the "power" she had in her voice. From this point on, she used it well. Life with Gonzo went on as I went to college. She would live with my sister and I "sometimes", depending on if the landlord where we were living allowed pets. So, that chocks up more of Gonzo's moving. When adding it up, Gonzo has lived in 8 different places, not to mention the "traveling" that she did. But, I'll get to that later.

When I graduated from college, Cody and I moved her to Boise with us. I remember the drive up here. It was mid-July and I was driving Cody's 87 firebird and Gonzo was sitting on the center console, right in front of the air conditioner! We moved into our house on Fig street with relatively little problems. I remember one of the first days we were living in the house, Gonzo stood in the hallway, in front of the spare bathroom meowing. After a while, Cody came in and said, "What does she want?!" I said, "She wants you to turn on the faucet in the bathtub to a drip so that she can drink out of it. Don't do it. Once you give in, she will be a bear." Cody said, "I'm doing it, anything to shut her up." Well, that set a precedence. From then on, Gonzo knew that her power of verbal persuasion over Cody was great.

After we had lived in Boise for a few months, Cody went back to Chadron to pick up Ralph and bring him to live with us. For the first week that Ralph lived with us, Gonzo had a new vantage point. She had figured out how to get up on the cupboard, the fridge, the top of the cabinets, all the way to the center beam next to the ceiling. She could watch Ralph in the living room, dining room and kitchen without having to "deal" with him. Again, her amazing brain figuring out how to get where she wanted to go.

Eventually, she and Ralph became family. When she was out front and came across a renegade cat in the neighborhood, her growls would bring Ralph a-running and he'd chase off the offending nemesis. When we moved, yet again, to our current residence, Gonzo enjoyed the larger area.

When we got Nicademous, was the first time that I thought Gonzo was not invincible. I think she decided she was way too old to deal with a kitten and her thyroid had probably started acting up without our knowledge. After a trip to the Pet ER, she was resurrected into her fine, if somewhat cantankerous, self. However, from this point on, certain of her finer particulars went away. Most notably, she could care less about her appearance and her fur.

Due to her lack of concern about her fur, she was regularly shaved in various patterns by various humans attempting to "help her out". But, she took it in stride with her strong resolve, just as she always had. In these later years, she was constantly hungry and thirsty, but you could still hear her "playing" late in the nighttime hours. She was still a kitten at heart. She always made the goofiest sound when she was playing and if you didn't know better, you'd think she was sick. But, if you ever caught her playing with something, she would immediately drop it and walk away, denying ever having stooped to the level of "playing".

She made a few Christmas trips, and has been in more states than some people I know. The following are her list of states: Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, Nebraska, Kansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada. Overall, she traveled fairly well. After the initial 20 minutes of complaining, she would buckle down and enjoy the ride.

In her later years, a battle with her weight and thyroid kept her extremely skinny, but still in good spirits. She never let anything get to her. She ran her household, including the other pets and even people, with an iron fist. She almost always got her way.

She left this world the same way she lived the rest of her life, with determination, strength and her own unique characteristics. I was with her when she left this world, and ironically, as her spirit left her body, my son at that exact moment, screamed in hunger, as though she was passing her torch to Tyler to continue on. Who would have ever thought that the little kitten that we brought home in 86 would live to see the entrance of my own child to this world.

As I am writing this tribute to the most personality filled animal I have ever known, I am noticing that the small things that we have built into our everyday actions and activities have been molded by this verbose personality. I am struck at how eerily quiet the house is, without her demanding some water, food or lack of attention from Nicademous. I will probably always put my water up in an unreachable place, and I doubt I will ever be able to slice cheese without thinking about the cheese-aholic cat demanding some.

If you are all still reading this, I appreciate you letting me babble on about a precious member of my family, regardless of how small, loud, cantankerous, crotchety and snobby Gonzo ever was. I hope that I have done her justice. She was one of a kind.

Gonzo, rest in peace, and you will live on in our heart and thoughts forever. We love you!

Gonzo Sick

Hi all. I just wanted to give a short blog to tell everyone about Gonzo. We woke up yesterday to Gonzo just laying around and being really weak. We took her to the vet yesterday afternoon and after running blood tests, they think that she has an infection and her thyroid has been acting up again. In addition, she was really dehydrated. She is down to 3.5 pounds again. So, she spent the afternoon on an IV drip of fluid, potassium and antibiotics. They wanted to keep doing it overnight, so we made a trip to the Kitty ER so she could continue her IV all night. She even got a personal nurse, the lucky kitty!

I called this morning at 6:00 on her, and the ER Vet says she is still weak, but she is eating, getting up to use the litterbox and she is vocal while getting her vitals checked. If she ever is "not" vocal, then you worry!

Anyway, Cody should be taking her back to our normal vet again this morning to see where we go from here. She may get her thyroid meds changed.

We'll keep you posted.

I Predict an Eruption

I follow my buddy Charles' blog quite regularly on an infrequent basis. Since he is located a hop, skip, and 30 mile drive from the big mountain without a top, his focus of late has been the various activity spewing from her of late.

Normally, I am fairly isolated from the world's events, but last night, in a partial hops and pizza sauce induced haze, expending too much energy hanging on every pitch in the Cards 8-3 thumping of LA again, I realized there might be some signs that the old mountain is going to erupt. So where do I get my highly unscientific data from you ask ? I point to these two...

My evidence...since Sunday when the family started rolling out of our fair city, these two wack jobs have done nothing but run at 110%. Mind you, they are not young pups, old Ralph is pushing 10 years of human life, set to flip the big one-naught on December 15th. Eros herself, while young, is approximately thirty months of age (her breed has an average life-span in the 72 to 96 month range). Case in point, last night, I arrive home around 18:30, ordering a pizza from work for delivery. I feed the animals, dealing with Ralph and Eros running around, stumbling over Gonzo once, and panting in anticipation of a walk. They eat as I watch an inning of baseball...then the pizza arrives. I break out the beer, and pull up on the couch, pants still buttoned. Ralph comes over, jumps up on the coffee table, and attempts to swipe my pizza or Moose Drool, I'm not sure which. I dismiss it as a random act of a dog's life.

So, as I continue to watch the game, Ralph and Eros decide that it is time to practice WWF doggie wrestling, a usually occurrence most of the time. Except, this evening, they go at it for at least an hour, intermixed with a few interventions on my part when tempers flare. See, Eros will only put up with Ralph's actions for so long before she gets on all fours and dishes out a little punishment from 105 lbs of well oiled street dog. Ralph in his wisdom (or lack thereof), does not bow down, and instead rises up and fights the power, which usually results in some sort of minimal wound.

So, after the wrestling in the living room, I head upstairs, done with pizza, but working on my Moose Drool still. I fire up the TV and computer monitors, prop up the feet, and enjoy life (and Dan Haren coming within a few feet of putting the cards up 9-3). Sure enough, the dogs join me upstairs, and continue to wrestle, banding into the walls, chasing each other up and down the stairs, barking, yelping, and causing a ruckus.

With all this activity, I conclude that Mt. St. Helens will indeed erupt in the near future, as the full moon has come and gone, and the activity and wackiness continues. I'm going to swing by the vet tonight to see if I can pickup some doggie valium...or maybe I just open the front door and see how many laps Eros can make around the block in a five minute window.

Nicademous makes a new friend

The pictures speak for themselves. I forgot about these gems in the hustle and bustle of June, and darn near coughed up a lung while doing some clean-up on my incoming images folder on Sunday morning.

In case you are curious, said 'friend' was on our porch when I let Eros out at some point in the morning. Since Nicademous was recovering from his leg operation, I encouraged him to go outside and check things out. Low and behold, he decided he wanted to unleash some energy and began trying to revive Stiffy. Alas, Stiffy was still dead when Nicademous tired of the ordeal, but it made for some entertaining moments.

Nicademous Update

This post serves two purposes. First, sometimes blogger acts up and
the page will not fully load in Internet Explorer, so hopefully this
resets that problem.

Second, just a quick update on Nicademous and his gimpy leg. The lil
guy is probably back to about 90-95% capacity. He can jump up to his
old food dish now without trouble, and can jump on the couch and bed
without assistance of front claws. His energy level is up nicely, and
he's back to chasing dogs, stalking birds, and grooming Gonzo. His
shaved rear leg area is filling in with hair, but he still has
somewhat of an odd appearance.

Nicademous Update

Nicademous is home and recovering. His rear left leg is fully shaved, with a nice long incision held together with staples running from top to lower thigh. While in a little bit of pain from time to time, especially when he gets a dog sniff or moves too much with it, he is doing very well. He motored around the living room last night, going for a few feet, the plopping down and resting for a few minutes. He's eating and drinking, and using the bathroom appropriately, and this morning, he felt challenged enough to jump up on the chair to his food dish, and jump back down. I'll throw up some pictures tonight...

UPDATE ( May 8, 2004):

I have posted some pictures of Nicademous after his surgery over in the galleries section:

The lil guy is kicking ass and taking names, acting much like his oldself. He has come over to check out Gonzo a few times, and it back to getting on the couch and bed, as well as cruising up and down the stairs. I even caught him stalking a bird yesterday afternoon in the backyard after he came out and spent some time on the porch sniffing the spring air and green grass.

Nicademous is the latest Erben Pet to go to the Vet

While we had a nice weekend trip, things did not turn out so well for Nicademous. Jeanne graciously watched our herd of malcontents this weekend while we were playing in the mid-west, and Nicademous turned up with a slight limp Friday evening. On Thursday, the lil bastard slipped into the closet while we were packing, and spent the day in there. Upon arriving Friday evening, Jeanne noticed a slight gimp, but did not seem to be too bad, much as I might assume, figuring Nicademous might have jumped awkwardly or caught it on something while chasing birds in the backyard. She gave him an once-over, and did not see any cuts or other signs of trauma.

On Sunday upon our arrival though, Nicademous was barely moving, and favoring his rear left leg quite heavily. If you touched it in several locations, he would meow in agony, and was visibly displeased. However, he would move across the floor on it, and even jumped on the couch and the bed with it. While troublesome, we figured it might be a deep bruise or maybe ligament/muscle related.

So, Monday I took him over to the vet over lunch, and they held him for X-rays. A few hours later, the verdict was in, and it turns out Nicademous has a fracture of the femural head. The part of his leg that goes into the hip socket is broken, and causing his discomfort. Last night, Nicademous spent the night, and this morning went in for surgery to remove the femural head portion of the bone. Then, supposedly the scar tissue will fill in and be fairly normal.

Now, none of this is news to me because ole Junior, the black and white hard luck cat we had during my younger years had a similar incident. In his young years, Junior was struck by a car, and managed to make it back to the yard where we found him the next day. He too had a fracture around his rear hip/leg bone, and either the ball would not go back in the socket, or similar to Nicademous, he had to have the ball removed so he could live another ten years or so of agony and bad luck.

Last check, Nicademous made it through the procedure ok, and is now on the path of recuperation. I am sure we will see Gonzo bringing him tasty selections from the menus out in the backyard, including Filet oh Parakeet, and Prime Bird. The dogs...well...they will be quick to get Nicademous back on his feet and moving, quickly, out of their way.

When good dogs run in the house

Those of you that have met Eros know that she is built like a greyhound. Small for a Great Dane, she is very sleek and streamlined, and can flat out fly. At times, she and Ralph like to play in the bonus room upstairs. This playing involves many forms of activity, including wrestling, keep away with a toy, or, one of my favorites, cattle dog and rogue calf dog. In this game, Ralph throws on a cowboy hat and spurs, and chases around the Olympic sprinter calf, Eros. This activity usually spills over into the hallway and stairs as the rogue calf escapes the traps and barks cattle dog spits out. A few weeks ago, I was coming up to the computer room when I noticed a large 'indentation' in the wall. While I did not recall the dogs playing their usual game, I used my deductive skills to determine that it had to be one of the dogs that created the hole. See...Nicademous is only 14.2lbs, and applying some physics equations, he would have to be going about 264mph to make a hole like that.

Anyway, I posted a few pics of the results in the Eros gallery...

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Sharing

While feeding the kids the other night, a strange occurance happened. We happened to catch it on film, otherwise no one would believe it! Nicademous and Gonzo sharing?? NEVER!