Summer is almost over. The summer blockbusters have come and gone; some very good, some not so good.
Let me tell you about the best movie released this summer. With apologies to Mr. Gatsby, Captain Kirk, Superman, Woody Allen and the minions, it is called The Spectacular Now, and it is aptly named. It is Spectacular, and you should go see it right NOW.
There are no characters in this movie; just people. You know these people. I know these people. I went to high school with these people. They are my friends; my family.
This is only the third movie from director James Ponsoldt. I am unfamiliar with his first two well-received films (Off the Black in 2006, and Smashed in 2012), but he shows a poise and expertise at pacing that many directors with 10 times his portfolio could only dream of.
The star of the show is Shailene Woodley. You don't know who that is? You obviously didn't see The Descendants, a film she absolutely stole from acting heavyweights George Clooney, Beau Bridges and Robert Forster, amongst others.
You don't know who she is? You will. She's about to star in Divergent, which I hear is going to be the next big thing in "Young Adult entertainment". It's not that type of movie that is going to define her, though, any more than Hermione Granger is going to define Emma Watson's career, or Katniss Everdeen is going to define Jennifer Lawrence's career, or Lois Lane will define Amy Adams'. I can only think of one adjective to describe her: mesmerizing. She is as convincing as an awkward, shy wallflower in this film as she was as a polar opposite little bitch in The Descendants. She will have an Oscar nomination or two before she's 30 (she is just shy of 24 as I write this) if she picks the right films, and her first two tend to make me believe she will. She deserves a nod for THIS film (as she did for the Descendants); but given the summer release and the modest box office, I'm going to guess she will be overlooked. If there are any Academy members reading this (hey, it's not impossible, Terry David Mulligan and Britney Spears follow me on Twitter, and they both know some members for sure!!), don't forget her when you go to cast your ballot. I cannot imagine there will be a better performance this year.
Woodley is not alone in her excellence here. Relative newcomer Miles Teller shines as the male lead, Sutter, a confident, likeable but flawed senior who really doesn't know what he wants or who he wants, or if he wants anything at all. Jennifer Jason Leigh, who knows a little something about being an excellent young actress, is all grown up and adds gravitas in a small but important role as Sutter's mother. Kyle Chandler, who's name you may not immediately know but who's face will have you saying "oh yeah, I know him, he was in that movie....", is pitch-perfect as Sutter's estranged father, who's story tells a lot about where Sutter came from, and where he is headed.
There is a moment in this film, and I will not spoil it here by giving details, that is so shocking that the audience gasped in unison; followed by everyone sitting back in their seats in stunned silence. It was as powerful a single moment as I have seen on film in recent memory.
I don't often write blog posts about one specific movie. I have rated this movie at 4.5 stars, and I'll tell you, I damn well considered making it 5. I am stingy with the stars; I cannot remember the last movie I rated 5/5. It might have been Schindler's List. Anyway, I reserve those ratings for the absolute best of the best. Movies that are as perfect as movies can be. This one comes pretty damn close. What keeps it from getting a "perfect" grade? If there is one slip up here, it's that the final act is slightly rushed, and could have used another 10-15 minutes of fleshing out. Believe me that is a minor quibble. The film checks in at 1 hour, 35 minutes, but it felt like about 20. I was truly irritated when it ended.
The Spectacular Now immediately rockets to #1 on my list of my top 10 movies of 2013 (shameless self-promotion: the entire list is here: http://diamonddean.tripod.com/movies.html). It will still be there at the end of the year. I truly, truly hope I am wrong about that last statement; because if I get to see a movie BETTER than this one?? Well, that would truly be a thrill. We would have to be in "second-coming-of-Citizen-Kane" territory.
The Spectacular Now is, as I write this, at 91% on Rotten Tomatoes. There are 11 negative reviews, none by anyone I've ever heard of. Those 11 'critics' should immediately be forced to turn in their pens or computers, and never write a movie review again.
Friends, if you love movies like I do, see this movie. If you have to wait until it hits VOD or Blu-Ray, so be it, but I urge you to seek it out and see it on the big screen. This movie deserves more than the ~$5M box office it is going to do, especially when you consider that garbage like The Smurfs 2 is hovering around $68M. Different audiences, I get that, but right is right.
Find it, friends. You will not be disappointed.
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Thursday, 22 August 2013
All is well again in the Engemoen household
It's been a while since I could write a blog post with nothing to complain about and no bad news to share. It's sort of refreshing.
So in a few days, The Summer Of Dean formally ceases. On Wednesday I start a new job, at least temporarily. Officially it's a 1-3 month assignment covering for someone who was in a pretty serious car accident; unofficially, they have no idea when/if she can come back, and how much she'll be able to work if she does. And even if she comes back healthy, they are likely to have a permanent position for me if they like me (and let's face it, they WILL :-) ). So after ten months of looking at job boards and finding nothing remotely close to my skill set (before my interview with these guys yesterday I had ONE interview for a suitable job in ten months, and I didn't get offered that job, which is good as I wouldn't have taken it anyway. Horrible company), the looking is over for the immediate future anyway. Can't really complain, it's been a pretty spectacular summer to have been off. In fact it's been SO good that I'm ready for fall. Cooler weather can come anytime, thank you very much.
On the cat front, no real update on Newman; he's still plugging along, seems to be doing very well. We are down to twice a week on his I/V treatments, and are trying to get down to once a week starting this week. He really hates the treatments now, I guess that's probably a sign that he is feeling so much stronger that he doesn't need them, but I am loathe to stop them altogether. We want him to be healthy for as long as possible. There is certainly no problem with his appetite; he's back to being the pig that he always was!!
Ashley came back from the groomers shaved and as sweet as you can imagine, for the most part.
We're hoping that drama is behind us. Don't get me wrong, we are a long way from "one big happy family", but the cats are at least tolerating each other again....and when Ashley swipes at them, it's a pretty half-hearted swipe rather than a full attack. I still think she'd be happiest in a one-cat home but she seems much more content now, so we are going to keep her and try to make it work for everyone. I think it will.
My wine blog has taken off a bit, each entry gets 25-40 views (one entry is up to 210 page views) so that's pretty exciting considering that I started it hoping that maybe 2 or 3 people would check it out from time to time. It's really just for me. Hoping that I can keep it up when I'm back at work; I suppose that will depend on the hours I'll be putting in. At this point, it doesn't look like it will be overwhelming.
My yoga studio has been running a challenge all summer; not one of those crazy "30 in 30" challenges that I couldn't possibly do, but a 12-week challenge with three levels (and prizes): Bronze (24 classes), Silver (36 classes) and Gold (48 classes). Early on I was going a lot and was easily on pace to reach Gold, but then the injuries started piling up and I had to back off a bit. Left knee, right elbow, and right shoulder; and if you've ever done any yoga, you'll know there aren't too many poses that don't involve at least one of those three things. Makes yoga tougher than it needs to be. Anyway, at first I pretty much kept going as much as I could, backing off on the most painful poses, but I found that was just making it worse so I've had to cut down on how often I go. Trying not to do as many back-to-back days as I was before. I'm already at 30 classes, and there are a few weeks left so I will have no problem getting to Silver, but Gold seems pretty unlikely. Oh well, I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. Unless the shoulder (rotator cuff, maybe?) heals fully in the next few days, which seems unlikely given that it's been about 2 months with little change, I can't see getting to 18 more classes between now and the end of the challenge, but things could change.
No vacations planned until Xmas; Tracey and I are going to Vegas for New Year's which will be a lot of fun. Already have dinner reservations at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant for NYE. Going to be quite an experience, I imagine.
Anyway, that's it for now. Thanks for reading!
So in a few days, The Summer Of Dean formally ceases. On Wednesday I start a new job, at least temporarily. Officially it's a 1-3 month assignment covering for someone who was in a pretty serious car accident; unofficially, they have no idea when/if she can come back, and how much she'll be able to work if she does. And even if she comes back healthy, they are likely to have a permanent position for me if they like me (and let's face it, they WILL :-) ). So after ten months of looking at job boards and finding nothing remotely close to my skill set (before my interview with these guys yesterday I had ONE interview for a suitable job in ten months, and I didn't get offered that job, which is good as I wouldn't have taken it anyway. Horrible company), the looking is over for the immediate future anyway. Can't really complain, it's been a pretty spectacular summer to have been off. In fact it's been SO good that I'm ready for fall. Cooler weather can come anytime, thank you very much.
On the cat front, no real update on Newman; he's still plugging along, seems to be doing very well. We are down to twice a week on his I/V treatments, and are trying to get down to once a week starting this week. He really hates the treatments now, I guess that's probably a sign that he is feeling so much stronger that he doesn't need them, but I am loathe to stop them altogether. We want him to be healthy for as long as possible. There is certainly no problem with his appetite; he's back to being the pig that he always was!!
Ashley came back from the groomers shaved and as sweet as you can imagine, for the most part.
We're hoping that drama is behind us. Don't get me wrong, we are a long way from "one big happy family", but the cats are at least tolerating each other again....and when Ashley swipes at them, it's a pretty half-hearted swipe rather than a full attack. I still think she'd be happiest in a one-cat home but she seems much more content now, so we are going to keep her and try to make it work for everyone. I think it will.
My wine blog has taken off a bit, each entry gets 25-40 views (one entry is up to 210 page views) so that's pretty exciting considering that I started it hoping that maybe 2 or 3 people would check it out from time to time. It's really just for me. Hoping that I can keep it up when I'm back at work; I suppose that will depend on the hours I'll be putting in. At this point, it doesn't look like it will be overwhelming.
My yoga studio has been running a challenge all summer; not one of those crazy "30 in 30" challenges that I couldn't possibly do, but a 12-week challenge with three levels (and prizes): Bronze (24 classes), Silver (36 classes) and Gold (48 classes). Early on I was going a lot and was easily on pace to reach Gold, but then the injuries started piling up and I had to back off a bit. Left knee, right elbow, and right shoulder; and if you've ever done any yoga, you'll know there aren't too many poses that don't involve at least one of those three things. Makes yoga tougher than it needs to be. Anyway, at first I pretty much kept going as much as I could, backing off on the most painful poses, but I found that was just making it worse so I've had to cut down on how often I go. Trying not to do as many back-to-back days as I was before. I'm already at 30 classes, and there are a few weeks left so I will have no problem getting to Silver, but Gold seems pretty unlikely. Oh well, I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. Unless the shoulder (rotator cuff, maybe?) heals fully in the next few days, which seems unlikely given that it's been about 2 months with little change, I can't see getting to 18 more classes between now and the end of the challenge, but things could change.
No vacations planned until Xmas; Tracey and I are going to Vegas for New Year's which will be a lot of fun. Already have dinner reservations at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant for NYE. Going to be quite an experience, I imagine.
Anyway, that's it for now. Thanks for reading!
Saturday, 10 August 2013
Cats suck
So I've mentioned, ad nauseum, Newman's issues. I've been expecting to have to write a sad blog entry detailing his death and the sadness we felt having to put him down.
But two days before he was due to be put to sleep, he made a miraculous recovery. Today, weeks later, he's doing great. We started giving him his I/V treatment twice a day, and we are now down to 3 times a week, and I think we'll go down to twice a week soon. He seems to be just about the same cat he was before he got sick. He's doing about as well as could possibly be expected, given the inevitable fact that his kidneys are still failing and will, at some point, fail completely and kill him. Every day we have with him is a bonus, and the days we are getting now, with him in such great spirits, truly seem like blessings. On that front, we are truly very lucky parents.
But what would a house of five cats be without problems???? Our newest girl, Ashley, who came to live with us about 8 months ago, is the newest one with issues.
Yeah that's her in the laundry basket.
Anyway, in the eight months she's been here, her relationship with the other cats has been tenuous, at best. She really doesn't seem to like any of them. Not to sound like a proud parent who thinks his kids can do no wrong, but these are some pretty sweet and unaggressive cats. If she can't get along with THESE cats, I'm not sure who she could get along with.
She also hates to be groomed; she won't let us get anywhere near her with the brush that we use to groom the others. Due to this, and partly our poor parenting, her fur has got matted to the point that Tracey calls her "homeless cat". It's really awful. So, last week we decided it was time to get a professional groomer to shave her, and hopefully we could start from scratch. On Wednesday I took her to the groomer, dropped her off and went on my way to do some shopping.
One hour later, the groomer called; Ashley had a "meltdown" (the groomer's words) and I needed to come pick her up. OK, so I showed up there expecting to see Ashley in some state of distress; but no, Ashley seemed perfectly fine. She licked my fingers and was apparently not stressed at all. The groomer, who seemed to be a very nice, respectful lady, had managed to shave one small strip of hair off Ashley's back before she gave up. So I took Ashley home, and called my vet to make arrangements to bring Ashley in, have her sedated, and shaved, while she slept. No big deal, except that it was going to cost me about $200 to get this done. Anyway, whatever, it needed to be done, so I booked the appointment for next Tuesday.
Shortly after I brought her home, Ashley went nuts. I mean nuts. Rolling around on the floor, seemingly trying to get to the area of her back that the groomer had managed to shave. I've never seen a cat react like that. Something about her had changed regarding the other cats too. She couldn't stand to be around them at all. We managed to scoop her up (without her killing us) and put her into one of the bedrooms away from all the cats for a little while, and that seemed to calm her down, slightly. After many hours, she calmed down completely and we let her out. I hopped into the shower, and when I got out, I heard Tracey screaming at the cats at the top of her lungs. It was a battle royale. All four of our existing cats were attacking Ashley. Sidra and Jackie were leading the charge, with Madeline and Newman hanging around, not really participating, but certainly involved. As Tracey managed to separate them, Sidra took a swipe at Ashley's face, cutting her across the nose, and then swiped at Tracey, cutting her on the ankle. Now, a cat swiping at someone is hardly newsworthy; but you'd have to know THIS cat. Sidra is possibly the least aggressive cat I have ever seen. Well, if not, maybe Jackie is. Or Maddie. Or Newman. These cats never attack ANYONE or ANYTHING; except for Ashley. Something about her drives them nuts, and vice versa. We used to have "tenuous tolerance", but now we had World War III.
So we had little choice but to completely sequester Ashley in one of the bedrooms, and we made the difficult choice to let her go. We talked to our vet, who had made the arrangements to bring her to us from her foster family, and asked if they could talk to the foster family about taking her back. The vet was off for a couple of days so we knew we'd have to keep all the cats apart, and safe, until this morning (Saturday) when they would get back to us.
With Ashley on her own, and no other cats around, she turned back into the sweetest cat you could imagine. In fact she kept me awake most of the night by kneading my chest and licking my face. All the stress that the other cats caused her had melted away and she was perfectly happy. Of course, it's hardly practical to keep her locked in a bedroom for a prolonged length of time, and we were convinced that giving her up was the right decision.
Last night (Friday), I decided to let her out of the bedroom and let her go sit outside on the patio, her favorite spot, for her last night with us. I figured I'd lock the door and keep the other cats away so that she could have a nice relaxing night on the patio. To my complete surprise, however, the other cats barely even noticed she was out there. There was a bit of initial hesitance, but after that, it was like the drama from the other night never happened.
This morning the vet called and offered to call the foster family and see if they would take her back. They were away on vacation, but their daughter was home and said she thought they would welcome Ashley back. So now we have that option; but now we really don't know what to do. Everything seems pretty much back to normal now. We don't want to give her up if it's not necessary; although we know the foster family would do their best to take care of her, they have another cat and NINE (yes NINE!!) beagle puppies, so her aversion to other animals would hardly be any better served there.
So as I write this, we are keeping her for a while. We are going to take her for her grooming appointment on Tuesday and see what happens. If she comes home from that appointment in meltdown mode, we'll have to keep her segregated again and decide where to go from there.
Cats suck.
But two days before he was due to be put to sleep, he made a miraculous recovery. Today, weeks later, he's doing great. We started giving him his I/V treatment twice a day, and we are now down to 3 times a week, and I think we'll go down to twice a week soon. He seems to be just about the same cat he was before he got sick. He's doing about as well as could possibly be expected, given the inevitable fact that his kidneys are still failing and will, at some point, fail completely and kill him. Every day we have with him is a bonus, and the days we are getting now, with him in such great spirits, truly seem like blessings. On that front, we are truly very lucky parents.
But what would a house of five cats be without problems???? Our newest girl, Ashley, who came to live with us about 8 months ago, is the newest one with issues.
Yeah that's her in the laundry basket.
Anyway, in the eight months she's been here, her relationship with the other cats has been tenuous, at best. She really doesn't seem to like any of them. Not to sound like a proud parent who thinks his kids can do no wrong, but these are some pretty sweet and unaggressive cats. If she can't get along with THESE cats, I'm not sure who she could get along with.
She also hates to be groomed; she won't let us get anywhere near her with the brush that we use to groom the others. Due to this, and partly our poor parenting, her fur has got matted to the point that Tracey calls her "homeless cat". It's really awful. So, last week we decided it was time to get a professional groomer to shave her, and hopefully we could start from scratch. On Wednesday I took her to the groomer, dropped her off and went on my way to do some shopping.
One hour later, the groomer called; Ashley had a "meltdown" (the groomer's words) and I needed to come pick her up. OK, so I showed up there expecting to see Ashley in some state of distress; but no, Ashley seemed perfectly fine. She licked my fingers and was apparently not stressed at all. The groomer, who seemed to be a very nice, respectful lady, had managed to shave one small strip of hair off Ashley's back before she gave up. So I took Ashley home, and called my vet to make arrangements to bring Ashley in, have her sedated, and shaved, while she slept. No big deal, except that it was going to cost me about $200 to get this done. Anyway, whatever, it needed to be done, so I booked the appointment for next Tuesday.
Shortly after I brought her home, Ashley went nuts. I mean nuts. Rolling around on the floor, seemingly trying to get to the area of her back that the groomer had managed to shave. I've never seen a cat react like that. Something about her had changed regarding the other cats too. She couldn't stand to be around them at all. We managed to scoop her up (without her killing us) and put her into one of the bedrooms away from all the cats for a little while, and that seemed to calm her down, slightly. After many hours, she calmed down completely and we let her out. I hopped into the shower, and when I got out, I heard Tracey screaming at the cats at the top of her lungs. It was a battle royale. All four of our existing cats were attacking Ashley. Sidra and Jackie were leading the charge, with Madeline and Newman hanging around, not really participating, but certainly involved. As Tracey managed to separate them, Sidra took a swipe at Ashley's face, cutting her across the nose, and then swiped at Tracey, cutting her on the ankle. Now, a cat swiping at someone is hardly newsworthy; but you'd have to know THIS cat. Sidra is possibly the least aggressive cat I have ever seen. Well, if not, maybe Jackie is. Or Maddie. Or Newman. These cats never attack ANYONE or ANYTHING; except for Ashley. Something about her drives them nuts, and vice versa. We used to have "tenuous tolerance", but now we had World War III.
So we had little choice but to completely sequester Ashley in one of the bedrooms, and we made the difficult choice to let her go. We talked to our vet, who had made the arrangements to bring her to us from her foster family, and asked if they could talk to the foster family about taking her back. The vet was off for a couple of days so we knew we'd have to keep all the cats apart, and safe, until this morning (Saturday) when they would get back to us.
With Ashley on her own, and no other cats around, she turned back into the sweetest cat you could imagine. In fact she kept me awake most of the night by kneading my chest and licking my face. All the stress that the other cats caused her had melted away and she was perfectly happy. Of course, it's hardly practical to keep her locked in a bedroom for a prolonged length of time, and we were convinced that giving her up was the right decision.
Last night (Friday), I decided to let her out of the bedroom and let her go sit outside on the patio, her favorite spot, for her last night with us. I figured I'd lock the door and keep the other cats away so that she could have a nice relaxing night on the patio. To my complete surprise, however, the other cats barely even noticed she was out there. There was a bit of initial hesitance, but after that, it was like the drama from the other night never happened.
This morning the vet called and offered to call the foster family and see if they would take her back. They were away on vacation, but their daughter was home and said she thought they would welcome Ashley back. So now we have that option; but now we really don't know what to do. Everything seems pretty much back to normal now. We don't want to give her up if it's not necessary; although we know the foster family would do their best to take care of her, they have another cat and NINE (yes NINE!!) beagle puppies, so her aversion to other animals would hardly be any better served there.
So as I write this, we are keeping her for a while. We are going to take her for her grooming appointment on Tuesday and see what happens. If she comes home from that appointment in meltdown mode, we'll have to keep her segregated again and decide where to go from there.
Cats suck.
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
Another update on The Belly
In my last post I mentioned that Newman was doing better and getting stronger; well this update brings only more good news. We started out giving him I/V treatments twice a day, and are now down to once every two days. He seems to be handling them perfectly, and is eating and drinking enough on his own to supplement the treatments and keep his kidneys functioning.
However, and I say this with only the utmost love, Newman has become an even bigger pain in the ass than he was before! :-)
Let me explain; he's an amazing cat, and I've extoled his many virtues many times. He truly is special and we are so glad that he's doing better.
But he is also the "problem child" of the clan. He is the only one who pees inappropriately (vet says it's not behavioral, some cats just do that, and it's seasonal). He is the "shedder" of the group. Well, OK, he WAS the shedder of the group; our newest girl, Ashley, has taken that crown away from him. Of course that doesn't mean HE has stopped shedding, just that she takes it to a whole new level. And he has always been the puker of the group too; although that seems to have been alleviated by the Pepcid that he gets twice a day to settle his stomach. Yes, Pepcid. Prescribed by the vet. I wish I had known about that 10 years ago, we would have had to clean up a heck of a lot less kitty barf.
He was always a grazer.....many times Tracey and I have stood in the kitchen at evening meal time and watched him go to the wet food, take a bite or two, then move to the dry food, take a bite or two, then back to the wet, then dry, then wet......it's always been his own little kitty buffet.
So when we brought him home and were trying to get him to eat, we bought him some crappy Fancy Feast food to entice him. It's not nearly as good for him as the higher quality Medi-Cal food that he's been eating for years, but it tastes better. Obviously that worked, but now, unfortunately, he won't go near the old stuff. I can't blame him; now that I've been eating Filet Mignon for a while, there is zero chance I'm ever going back to Sirloin.
Of course, while you can put dry food down and they will eat it whenever they want, it's not that easy with wet food, which would get dry and inedible pretty quickly. We pretty much have to feed him every 10-15 minutes. Yes, put a plate down, he eats two bites, and walks away. Sometimes I take the same plate, turn it around and push it to another section of the floor, and he eats some more. I never said he was the sharpest knife in the drawer.
But my trickery only works occasionally, so most of the time I'm left picking up the plate and putting it in the fridge, just to bring it out again a little later. If I leave it down, it will get gobbled up by one of the other monsters in the residence. Particularly this one:
Sidra, aka the Feline Garbage Disposal. She'll eat anything. Luckily she will still eat the old food (although she's not happy about it) so I don't have to throw out the last couple cans we have in the cupboard.
All the other cats, even the ones who were always perfectly fine with the old healthy food, won't go near it now.....so it's Fancy Feast for five. Thanks, Newman. ;-)
When his kidneys finally fail completely and we have to put him to rest, it will actually make our lives quite a bit simpler; albeit much sadder, and much less loving. I sure hope that's not for months or years.
Pain in the ass.
:-)
However, and I say this with only the utmost love, Newman has become an even bigger pain in the ass than he was before! :-)
Let me explain; he's an amazing cat, and I've extoled his many virtues many times. He truly is special and we are so glad that he's doing better.
But he is also the "problem child" of the clan. He is the only one who pees inappropriately (vet says it's not behavioral, some cats just do that, and it's seasonal). He is the "shedder" of the group. Well, OK, he WAS the shedder of the group; our newest girl, Ashley, has taken that crown away from him. Of course that doesn't mean HE has stopped shedding, just that she takes it to a whole new level. And he has always been the puker of the group too; although that seems to have been alleviated by the Pepcid that he gets twice a day to settle his stomach. Yes, Pepcid. Prescribed by the vet. I wish I had known about that 10 years ago, we would have had to clean up a heck of a lot less kitty barf.
He was always a grazer.....many times Tracey and I have stood in the kitchen at evening meal time and watched him go to the wet food, take a bite or two, then move to the dry food, take a bite or two, then back to the wet, then dry, then wet......it's always been his own little kitty buffet.
So when we brought him home and were trying to get him to eat, we bought him some crappy Fancy Feast food to entice him. It's not nearly as good for him as the higher quality Medi-Cal food that he's been eating for years, but it tastes better. Obviously that worked, but now, unfortunately, he won't go near the old stuff. I can't blame him; now that I've been eating Filet Mignon for a while, there is zero chance I'm ever going back to Sirloin.
Of course, while you can put dry food down and they will eat it whenever they want, it's not that easy with wet food, which would get dry and inedible pretty quickly. We pretty much have to feed him every 10-15 minutes. Yes, put a plate down, he eats two bites, and walks away. Sometimes I take the same plate, turn it around and push it to another section of the floor, and he eats some more. I never said he was the sharpest knife in the drawer.
But my trickery only works occasionally, so most of the time I'm left picking up the plate and putting it in the fridge, just to bring it out again a little later. If I leave it down, it will get gobbled up by one of the other monsters in the residence. Particularly this one:
Sidra, aka the Feline Garbage Disposal. She'll eat anything. Luckily she will still eat the old food (although she's not happy about it) so I don't have to throw out the last couple cans we have in the cupboard.
All the other cats, even the ones who were always perfectly fine with the old healthy food, won't go near it now.....so it's Fancy Feast for five. Thanks, Newman. ;-)
When his kidneys finally fail completely and we have to put him to rest, it will actually make our lives quite a bit simpler; albeit much sadder, and much less loving. I sure hope that's not for months or years.
Pain in the ass.
:-)
Sunday, 21 July 2013
Let's not call it a miracle quite yet....
....but Newman is showing unbelievable progress the last couple of days.
We are trying to stay grounded and not get ahead of ourselves, but he has become a different cat in the last two days. He's eating on his own; maybe not as much as we'd like, but probably enough considering how sick he was. He's drinking a little bit; definitely not enough, but we are supplementing it with his saline I/V treatment (just once a day, down from twice). He has responded to the point where we are almost in stunned amazement.
It had got to the point where we already had the day in mind - Wednesday - to put him down. We decided on Friday that if he hadn't made significant progress by Monday (tomorrow), we'd take him off the treatments and make an appointment for Wednesday to be euthanized. What a different 48 hours make.
Of course, there are still tough times ahead. His kidneys are still failing - nothing is going to fix that - but if he continues to respond to the treatment we are giving him and continues to improve, there is no telling how much time he might have. It could be days, weeks, months...even years, if all goes well.
In the next day or so, we will experiment with taking his saline treatments down to once every two days and see how it goes; hopefully to eventually take it down to once or twice a week. We have to keep weaning him down to see how his body responds to the change in treatment. I'll keep updating the blog with his progress of course, but it will be nice to be able to write about something other than a sick/dying cat for a change.
Thanks to everyone for the support we've received and I know we will continue to receive during this difficult process!
And just in case I hadn't already posted enough cute Newman pics, here is one more.
That is one adorable sonofabitch.
The cat is pretty cute too.
We are trying to stay grounded and not get ahead of ourselves, but he has become a different cat in the last two days. He's eating on his own; maybe not as much as we'd like, but probably enough considering how sick he was. He's drinking a little bit; definitely not enough, but we are supplementing it with his saline I/V treatment (just once a day, down from twice). He has responded to the point where we are almost in stunned amazement.
It had got to the point where we already had the day in mind - Wednesday - to put him down. We decided on Friday that if he hadn't made significant progress by Monday (tomorrow), we'd take him off the treatments and make an appointment for Wednesday to be euthanized. What a different 48 hours make.
Of course, there are still tough times ahead. His kidneys are still failing - nothing is going to fix that - but if he continues to respond to the treatment we are giving him and continues to improve, there is no telling how much time he might have. It could be days, weeks, months...even years, if all goes well.
In the next day or so, we will experiment with taking his saline treatments down to once every two days and see how it goes; hopefully to eventually take it down to once or twice a week. We have to keep weaning him down to see how his body responds to the change in treatment. I'll keep updating the blog with his progress of course, but it will be nice to be able to write about something other than a sick/dying cat for a change.
Thanks to everyone for the support we've received and I know we will continue to receive during this difficult process!
And just in case I hadn't already posted enough cute Newman pics, here is one more.
That is one adorable sonofabitch.
The cat is pretty cute too.
Thursday, 18 July 2013
Newman
Sorry to report that things are not looking good for our baby boy.
It's been a few days since my last blog update, and those days have, for the most part, not been good. He is just not responding to his treatment and medicine like we had hoped. We are back up to 2 I/V treatments daily, but it doesn't look like his broken down little body is making any progress.
He's clearly not the same cat he used to be. He has lost his sparkle; his energy; that "je ne sais quoi" that made him so special. What he hasn't lost is his sweetness, though. I take him into the bedroom and lock the door, away from the other cats, and spend some time with him, which he adores. He is so loving and appreciative of the extra attention. I spent about 15 minutes just rubbing his belly this afternoon and this seemed to be the happiest he has been in recent memory; even so, his eyes get heavy and he can barely lift his head to show me how much he loves it. He tries, though.
It's difficult for me to process the fact that this wonderful creature is not likely to make it to the relatively young age of 12. We haven't completely given up hope, we are going to continue the intensive treatments for a few more days and hope for a miracle, but it seems so unlikely at this point. We could keep him alive indefinitely, probably, doing what we are doing, but that's not fair to anyone. I think Tracey and I have both come to the realization that it's almost time for our special boy to rest. Unless something dramatically changes, I suspect that by this time next week, he will have left us. That will be a very, very hard day.
Keep him in your thoughts, if you don't mind. I'm not sure I'm the type to believe in the power of positive thinking, but at this point, it sure as Hell can't hurt.
Thanks all,
Dean
It's been a few days since my last blog update, and those days have, for the most part, not been good. He is just not responding to his treatment and medicine like we had hoped. We are back up to 2 I/V treatments daily, but it doesn't look like his broken down little body is making any progress.
He's clearly not the same cat he used to be. He has lost his sparkle; his energy; that "je ne sais quoi" that made him so special. What he hasn't lost is his sweetness, though. I take him into the bedroom and lock the door, away from the other cats, and spend some time with him, which he adores. He is so loving and appreciative of the extra attention. I spent about 15 minutes just rubbing his belly this afternoon and this seemed to be the happiest he has been in recent memory; even so, his eyes get heavy and he can barely lift his head to show me how much he loves it. He tries, though.
It's difficult for me to process the fact that this wonderful creature is not likely to make it to the relatively young age of 12. We haven't completely given up hope, we are going to continue the intensive treatments for a few more days and hope for a miracle, but it seems so unlikely at this point. We could keep him alive indefinitely, probably, doing what we are doing, but that's not fair to anyone. I think Tracey and I have both come to the realization that it's almost time for our special boy to rest. Unless something dramatically changes, I suspect that by this time next week, he will have left us. That will be a very, very hard day.
Keep him in your thoughts, if you don't mind. I'm not sure I'm the type to believe in the power of positive thinking, but at this point, it sure as Hell can't hurt.
Thanks all,
Dean
Monday, 15 July 2013
The ups and downs of pet ownership
Well it's been almost a week since Newman came home, and there have sure been some ups and downs.
We've been giving him fluids through an I/V every day....twice a day for the first few days, now down to once a day. We're monitoring his progress and are supposed to wean him down to less frequent instances soon.
He seems to be doing quite well for the most part. He's back to his old self in many ways, and most of the time has quite a bit of energy. If we didn't know he was sick, we wouldn't know he was sick; except for one small detail. He's not eating or drinking much, if at all.
We aren't panicking about the drinking too much yet; we know he is getting the fluids he needs through our injections, and he's been drinking a little on his own. It's the eating that is the big problem. He's called "the belly" for a reason; eating has never been much of a problem for him. Now he is eating a little bit on his own some days, and some days not at all. We even went to the store and bought him some crappy food (any time "meat by products" is high on the list of ingredients, you know you shouldn't be giving it to your pet), in the hopes that would entice him to eat. Usually the crappier a food is for a cat, the better it tastes, and he's more likely to eat it (just like humans, actually). He gobbled it up the first time we gave it to him, but only that once, and nothing since.
So to get some nutrition into him, we've been feeding him through a syringe as much as we can. As you can imagine, this is not a pleasant experience for him, so we are loathe to do it more than we need to; but he has to eat.
He makes it so easy on us; he is the most amazing patient. We are so fortunate. Even through all the trials and tribulations, the syringe feedings, having water shot into his mouth, and having an I/V needle inserted into him once or twice a day, he never complains. He has not scratched us once, not ONCE. He takes it like a champ; in fact during the I/V, he barely stops purring. What a special, special cat this is.
Of course if things don't change and he doesn't start eating and drinking on his own, we are going to have a tough decision to make. We can't go on like this forever, and it's certainly not fair to him to go to these extreme lengths for an extended period of time. It's so difficult though, because unless he regresses badly, how do we know when it's time? What's a reasonable length of time to keep doing this for him if he doesn't improve?
Since Tracey and I have been together, we've had to put down three cats. All heartbreaking and tragic in their own way, but none of them were difficult decisions.
First there was Kramer, who we only had for about four months. He was obviously very ill when we adopted him and just went downhill from there, to the point where he lacked the strength to climb into his litter box. The vet didn't know for sure what was wrong with him, but suspected it was leukemia. It was a pretty easy call to put him down, he was suffering badly and was not going to recover. It was sad, but we were glad he had spent the last four months of his young life with parents who loved and cared for him.
Four years ago, our baby girl Cleo had to go down. A heartbreaking day that took a long time to recover from..... but she was 18 years old, blind, deaf, and was starting to lose her bearings. She had taken to sleeping in her litter box. Her quality of life was starting to slip, she was never going to get any better, and it was time for her to go. A horrible day, but the right decision, and we never had any doubts.
And then there was Pepe, Tracey's companion of 17 years. This was the toughest decision of my lovely wife's life, no question about it, but there were still no doubts. Pepe had cancer, and the tumour on his head had grown to the size of a golf ball. Again there was no helping him; no chance his life was going to get any better, and he was going to suffer, if he wasn't already. No doubts.
It's going to be tough to know when the right time is for Newman, I suspect. Hopefully he'll find a way to let us know it's time, when his kidneys fail to the point that he's suffering or in pain. Hopefully that's not anytime soon, but if it is, we'll be ready.
It's the most important thing anyone can do for their pets. The ups and downs of pet ownership.
We've been giving him fluids through an I/V every day....twice a day for the first few days, now down to once a day. We're monitoring his progress and are supposed to wean him down to less frequent instances soon.
He seems to be doing quite well for the most part. He's back to his old self in many ways, and most of the time has quite a bit of energy. If we didn't know he was sick, we wouldn't know he was sick; except for one small detail. He's not eating or drinking much, if at all.
We aren't panicking about the drinking too much yet; we know he is getting the fluids he needs through our injections, and he's been drinking a little on his own. It's the eating that is the big problem. He's called "the belly" for a reason; eating has never been much of a problem for him. Now he is eating a little bit on his own some days, and some days not at all. We even went to the store and bought him some crappy food (any time "meat by products" is high on the list of ingredients, you know you shouldn't be giving it to your pet), in the hopes that would entice him to eat. Usually the crappier a food is for a cat, the better it tastes, and he's more likely to eat it (just like humans, actually). He gobbled it up the first time we gave it to him, but only that once, and nothing since.
So to get some nutrition into him, we've been feeding him through a syringe as much as we can. As you can imagine, this is not a pleasant experience for him, so we are loathe to do it more than we need to; but he has to eat.
He makes it so easy on us; he is the most amazing patient. We are so fortunate. Even through all the trials and tribulations, the syringe feedings, having water shot into his mouth, and having an I/V needle inserted into him once or twice a day, he never complains. He has not scratched us once, not ONCE. He takes it like a champ; in fact during the I/V, he barely stops purring. What a special, special cat this is.
Of course if things don't change and he doesn't start eating and drinking on his own, we are going to have a tough decision to make. We can't go on like this forever, and it's certainly not fair to him to go to these extreme lengths for an extended period of time. It's so difficult though, because unless he regresses badly, how do we know when it's time? What's a reasonable length of time to keep doing this for him if he doesn't improve?
Since Tracey and I have been together, we've had to put down three cats. All heartbreaking and tragic in their own way, but none of them were difficult decisions.
First there was Kramer, who we only had for about four months. He was obviously very ill when we adopted him and just went downhill from there, to the point where he lacked the strength to climb into his litter box. The vet didn't know for sure what was wrong with him, but suspected it was leukemia. It was a pretty easy call to put him down, he was suffering badly and was not going to recover. It was sad, but we were glad he had spent the last four months of his young life with parents who loved and cared for him.
Four years ago, our baby girl Cleo had to go down. A heartbreaking day that took a long time to recover from..... but she was 18 years old, blind, deaf, and was starting to lose her bearings. She had taken to sleeping in her litter box. Her quality of life was starting to slip, she was never going to get any better, and it was time for her to go. A horrible day, but the right decision, and we never had any doubts.
And then there was Pepe, Tracey's companion of 17 years. This was the toughest decision of my lovely wife's life, no question about it, but there were still no doubts. Pepe had cancer, and the tumour on his head had grown to the size of a golf ball. Again there was no helping him; no chance his life was going to get any better, and he was going to suffer, if he wasn't already. No doubts.
It's going to be tough to know when the right time is for Newman, I suspect. Hopefully he'll find a way to let us know it's time, when his kidneys fail to the point that he's suffering or in pain. Hopefully that's not anytime soon, but if it is, we'll be ready.
It's the most important thing anyone can do for their pets. The ups and downs of pet ownership.
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