la_marquise

So it's been a while since I posted here. I'm not sure why. I did Nanowrimo in November and hit the 50k, and am now trying to wrangle the book into shape. Then there was Christmas, which was quiet and pleasant. And January. Which was as it was. No drama, no crisis, just life. And my life is fairly ordinary.

We are now once again a three-cat household: Miss Telzey's little brother Random came to join us in early December and has settled down very well. He's a lovely, friendly, confident little boy and he's getting on well with both Telzey and Horus. Both of them let him snuggle up to sleep, and play long games with him. Here he is:


And that's me. How's everyone else?
Skirt of the day: denim.

I'm over at Strange Horizons today, as part of a roundtable on representing marginalised voices in historical fiction and sff, alongside two writers I admire a lot, David Anthony Durham and Joyce Chng (aka J Damask). I loved getting to do this: Joyce and David are very insightful people and I learnt a lot; and our moderator Vanessa Rose Phin asked excellent questions. You can find it here:
http://www.strangehorizons.com/2015/20150427/2chngdurhamsperring-a.shtml

In other news, the cats are planting themselves in the flowerbeds where the sun is warmest, the wip is progressing slowly and the lilac bush just outside my window is coming into bloom. I like April.



Skirt of the day: denim

She's now 15 weeks old and getting quite big. The boycats are getting used to her: she's succeeded in sleeping curled up with them on the bed and in getting Ish to let her share my lap. These photos were taken by the splendid Man In Black, who is a much better photographer than me.
My eye is healing: vision is still not great, but now this is down to having the wrong lenses in the glasses, not to anything in the eye.

I have now taken possession of my new domain. It is acceptable, although it clearly contains areas to which I am not being given access, which is of course Wrong, as I am a Princess and should be allowed my own way at all times. The selection of toys is pleasing, although the time devoted to waving them for me needs improving. Several areas have been offered to me as places to sleep and I am taking time to decide which of them is most pleasing to me. The food is regular, if unimaginative. When I first entered this domain, fresh chicken was provided, which was good, but subsequent meals have proved to be more ordinary. I feel this needs work.
This domain appears to contain two other cats. They are not at all up to my standards. When meeting my new subjects I expect to be greeted with ear-washing and an offer of a game. Neither of my two new subjects seems to understand this. One of them -- the beige one -- has clearly not been well-brought up at all. When I indicated to him that I was ready to receive his homage by batting his tail and then putting my head under his chin for the ceremonial lick, he used language that I can only describe as unacceptable. Of course, I did not reply in king, because I am a Princess. The other one -- large, grey and spotty -- seems very stupid. When I offered him my head to wash, he ran away and when I issued an invitation to a game, he hid behind a cushion. It is natural that he should be awed by my majesty, but I do expect my new subjects to overcome their trivial fears and accept my attentions gracefully.
The new minions are... acceptable. The male one insists on doing something called work which means he is not available to wait on me on demand. The female one is somewhat better, but further training is indicated, as she seems to believe that it is allowed to leave me without company for minutes at a stretch. I intend to devote part of my time today to teaching her how to serve me correctly as the amount of fuss, play and general obedience is not yet as I would wish.
Once proper behaviour has been installed in my minions and subject boy cats, this place should, in my opinion, prove satisfactory.


This is Kari: little blue girl is settling in well and is full of beans. Nothing about being in a new environment seems to faze her at all: the major complaint is that she doesn't have full access as yet to the whole house. (This was her view in the car, too. Movement and noise: fine. Being shut in a carrier: unacceptable.) Ish is not impressed with her at all (though he's very interested in her food): he managed to get into her room while I was feeding her, and she invited him to play without any fear at all. He rather disgraced himself by hissing, and is giving very dirty looks at the dining room door. Horus is deeply suspicious. The dining room shouts at him! There is a new very small cat and she wants him to wash her! Run away! Panic! I'm hoping he will get used to her soon and be willing to play -- he's showed no aggression beyond some fur-prickling, which is standard with him when he's nervous. Ish is probably going to take rather longer, but he is preferring to issue 'Keep your distance!' warnings to her, rather than anything more active.
She is very confident and friendly, and has a huge purr. She doesn't see why she can't have my attention all the time and yells every time I dare to do something else. I'm contemplating calling her Violet, after Violet Elizabeth Bott of the Just William books, as she is the most imperious little cat I have ever met.
And she is, naturally, utterly adorable.

Skirt of the day: long blue batik print.

( Picture here )

catherineldf asked me for pictures of Horus-paws. So here he is (under ( cut to save your friend's page )

via andrewducker





I do rather love this....

Ish weighs 5.2kg as of today, which is excellent news and makes it highly likely that this is an allergy of some kind and not cancer.
We are very very pleased.

Skirt of the day: dark teal cord with brown piping.

Ish went to the vet this morning as arranged. When they weighed him he had gained 200g since last week (which is nearly half what he'd lost). We'd switched him to a bland diet -- a dry food designed specifically for cats with sensitive stomachs, plus plain steamed chicken. He's been eating well, and is very happy, sociable, playful and comfortable. The vet decided, in light of this, not to go ahead with the biopsy, as this makes inflammatory bowel disease seem the more likely diagnosis. Instead, they are doing a blood test, and we are keeping him on the exclusion diet for the next three weeks. He also has to stay in for two days so that the condition of his rear end products can be detected. (Yes, I need to inspect the cat pooh.) The hope is that he will be producing less soft, pale products. He'll get another scan in 3 weeks and we'll proceed from there.
This is, by and large, good news. Cancer isn't ruled out, but the alternative is seeming more likely. And he's doing very well, apart from being put out that he's not being allowed outside.

The new dry food (and its associated gooshy in pouches) is a French brand, so the variety is described in large print as 'Sensible' ('sensitive' is in small type). You can imagine that this makes us giggle every time Horus eats any of it, since sensible is not a word we tend to associate with him. All 3 cats are on the sensitive food, and eating it happily. Ish is getting the bulk of the chicken at present (though Horus and Moon get some, of course). He's getting through 5 to 6 saucers of it a day, and I am becoming an expert chicken steamer.
Horus, I discovered earlier in the week, is afraid of greaseproof paper. Of course. It's famously vicious and cat-eating. (Like the ironing board and the marquis' older ski jacket. Sigh.)
Thank you to everyone for all the good wishes. It's been helping. I am unreasonable about my cats and I know it. You've really helped me cope.


Skirt of the day: denim

Look what arrived this morning! ( Behind the cut, to save your friends' page. )

Every once in a while, even the Mightiest Hunter needs to relax:





Iskander, the undignified edition. (That tummy is a trap, btw. it looks soft and inviting. It is, in fact, guarded with scythes.)

I have a complaint.
It is generally accepted in this house that I am the Good Cat (Official)(TM). The humans say this frequently, especially at the boy cats, who are Bad and Wicked. 'Mooncat is a good girl,' they say. 'Why can't you be more like her?' 'Mooncat doesn't spray the furniture or visitors.' It's a Well Known Fact that I Am Good.
It follows, therefore, that everything I do is also Good (Official) (TM). Everything, from being adorable on laps, using the litter tray correctly, being friendly to visitors and not removing the food from my bowl, to digging up the tissue box, sleeping on the marquis' head, scrabbling at the duvet at 3 a.m., biting ankles to get attention, getting between the keyboard and the monitor and washing the marquise's hair, face and hands while she's working. I do them, so they are all Good.
So why is it that the humans persist in approving only certain of these activities? Do they think it's all about them, or something? I do these things because they are Right and Necessary. It's a well known fact that tissues are evil, and, if not shredded, are prone to lurking in corners to ambush innocent passers'-by. And it's cold at the moment: when I sleep on the marquis' head, it's to help keep him insulated. And as every cat knows, humans are utterly useless at washing themselves and need us cats to keep them even slightly clean. All my activities are reasonable. I demand that the humans recognise this At Once and cease such unacceptable behaviour as shutting me out of the bedroom, hiding the tissues, holding their ankles up out of my reach and pushing me off the desk.
Your Good Girl,
Mooncat.