On YouTube, I posted yet another video, shot in 2010, showing Spackle Puss, our late pussy cat. Watch as she sits in front of my computer, mostly looking into the camera. Meanwhile the screensaver shows random photos behind her.
Spackle knew how to do 'cute'. She was very cute. The video, however, is really about the screensaver shots.
I also found a few more pictures of little Spackle, taken in the last few months of her life.
And I've got one final little kitty story.
I've mentioned that she begged for food anytime someone entered the kitchen, meowing loudly and running at top speed around and around the kitchen island. I can remember several times when, beside herself with excitement, she actually ran under my foot while I was taking a step. Diminutive Spackle and big dog Chowderhead, who were never close friends, would stand right next to one another looking up expectantly, both waiting for a morsel of whatever human food was being prepared.
Spackle also developed the habit of waiting by the front door when someone was there. Sometimes she'd go there because a car pulled into the driveway. Then she'd wait, meowing away. This is behavior you might expect from a dog, not a cat. (Chowderhead no longer does this because these days he doesn't hear so well.)
Anyway, one evening - while we sat around after dinner observing this behavior - our houseguest, Marcello, described Spackle as "the cat with the soul of a dog". This richly deserved sobriquet stuck for the rest of her life.
We bid farewell to the Cat with the Soul of a Dog. Daily life has been much quieter without her.
The previous Spackle Puss obituary - with lots of pictures - can be seen here.
Our beloved, unique, demanding little kitty Spackle Puss passed away in her sleep Sunday night. Leslie and I are saddened at this loss. Spackle has been a daily part of our lives for over 14 years. We've begun to notice many small emptinesses caused by her absence - most especially at dinner time. She was a tiny cat yet always first in line (and very hungry and very vocal about it!) whenever food was being prepared.
Click on pictures for enlargements. Hold your mouse over them for a very brief description plus the year the photo was taken.
Of course Spackle has been part of Mixed Meters' essential ongoing coverage of our pets. In 14+ years I've taken lots of pictures of Spackle. This post shows mostly previously unposted pics. If you have plenty of time to kill you can review all previoius MM posts tagged "Cats". Here's a Google search for previous pictures of Spackle.
Spackle Puss never spent a day of her life separated from her twin brother, Crackle Pop. They were inseparable at first although their relationship became less cordial as they aged. We chose them from a litter of five. Here's the introductory blog post about their arrival.
Some pictures of Spackle and Crackle together:
Their markings were so similar that they were often hard to tell apart. She was smaller, softer and had no tabby markings. And she had several unique habits including the desire to lick human skin - often quite painfully for the human. Also she drooled a lot - sometimes leaving an annoyingly large wet patch on your clothing. Despite that, she was a cute kitty.
Spackle's most unique marking was the light colored stripes behind her ears, along the edges. The name 'Spackle' was suggested by one of the ladies in the cat rescue group who had said the ear coloration reminded her of actual spackle. We never understood exactly why. Spackle just seemed like a good name for a cat and it inspired her brother's name. We added the "Puss" to make her full name "Spackle Puss" because both Leslie and I like to name things.
Here are some pics that show her ear stripes:
Yes, that last picture shows Spackle in a box. How very catlike. Here are plenty more pictures of Spackle hunkered down inside of things:
Here is a very short video (with music) of Spackle Puss in (and out of) a box:
Here is Spackle after indulging in some cat drugs.
I found a number of pictures showing her with computers. I guess Spackle felt that humans needed help in their work.
Here's one of my first YouTube videos. It shows Spackle Puss hunting a hummingbird on my computer monitor. (All our cats are indoor only. Spackle never spent even one moment of her life outside hunting real birds.)
And now . . . another Mixed Meters Meta Moment: a picture of Spackle watching the video of herself hunting a video of a hummingbird.
Here are three shots of Spackle with Leslie. In the first one, Spackle seems to be checking Leslie's worm IDs. Leslie started referring to Spackle as her 'supervisor'.
Finally, here's Spackle's last picture, about a month ago. Spackle had decided she was comfortable sleeping on top of a shelf of ring binders. She could watch Leslie at work from this spot. By this point she was all skin and bones and it was clear that she didn't have much time left.
Leslie and I are so sorry to see you go, little kitty. I hope you enjoyed your stay with us, whatever that means for a cat. We enjoyed having you around.
Back during the B.E. posting an occasional picture of your pet was essential. "What's the B.E.?" I hear you ask. It was "The Blog Era."
The B.E.is long gone, killed off by Social Media. S.M. makes posting pictures of your pets much easier. Actually, anything you could do on a blog is easier with S.M. You just need to sell your soul by sharing your personal data. And also spend time looking at ads.
Today, in a 'glorious' homage to the B.E., I present more than a few pictures of our pets. (Click them to see enlargements.) We will begin with Chowderhead.
Chowderhead is our dog. He's old for a big dog. We got him in 2007 when we figured he was about one year old. That makes him twelve now. (Read a little about his origin story here.)
More gray hairs. Moves more slowly. Deterioration of hearing. Sleeps a lot more. Overweight. Those things all describe me. Also the dog. Still, we're both doing pretty well for our ages. We both have health insurance.
Chowderhead did have a recent medical issue, a hematoma in his left ear. We took him to the vet who said he had to wear the collar for a week. At the end of the week he had totally reduced the collar to plastic shards.
Chowderhead hates the vet. He hates the vet so much he growls a lot and, when the doctors try to touch him, he vibrates with fear like a cellphone. They make him wear a muzzle when he visits lest he bite. Otherwise leatherwear is not really his thing.
His thing is sleeping in the backyard. He is king of the backyard.
Most certainly Chowderhead's most remarkable appendage is his tail. Here's a little video of 'The Tail' in action.
Mixed Meters' one remaining reader will remember that we also have three cats. They rarely gather for a group photo unless food is involved.
The two gray and white cats are twins. Spackle Puss is the smaller one; she has white stripes on the back of her ears. Her brother, Crackle Pop, has a tabby stripe tail and a white spot on his back. Like the dog, they're about twelve years old. Here's their origin story.
We'll start with pictures of Crackle. There isn't much to say about Crackle.
Crackle isn't very friendly to strangers. He hides when there are visitors. Otherwise he's a great cat who likes getting petted and doesn't often make a mess. He likes to climb on my lap but he can never get comfortable up there.
In the following picture you can see a cow poster hanging in my office. It was given to me by a composer named John Adams. It's the cover of his Gnarly Buttons album. He autographed it for me, accidentally finishing the tail end of his signature on the wall itself. Then the signature faded. However the mark on the wall remains. Later he returned and signed the poster again, twice, in indelible ink.
While Donald Trump's dislike of dogs is well known, I've never read anything about his feeling towards felines. You can search almost five million words he has spoken at this website. I couldn't find a single reference to 'cat' or 'kitty' or 'feline'. 'Pussy' gets a few hits.
The second pussy on our list is named Spackle. Spell check does not know the word Spackle; it underlines every occurrence as a possible misspelling. There's much more to tell you about Spackle than about her brother.
Spackle has an incredibly sharp tongue. We know this because she likes to lick people's bare skin. When she really gets into her licking it can be very painful for the human. We don't know why she does this.
Another annoying thing is that she drools a lot. After she sits on your lap you'll find a damp spot on your leg. Yuch.
Spackle is an extremely vocal cat. While underfoot in the kitchen she repeats - in cat language - "Give me some of that." over and over. It's gotten to the point that she'll beg anytime a human walks into the kitchen. This happens whether food is present or not. Then she runs excitedly from one side of the room to the other. And she runs back. She does these little cat sprints over and over again.
When dinner time finally rolls around she eats voraciously. And yet somehow she is still a super thin kitty, just skin and bones. Her skinniness is actually worrying. At least we've gotten her to stop vomiting her dinner in unexpected places.
Although Chowderhead and Crackle and Spackle are all approximately the same chronological age, they are different ages relative to their species. I've seen charts which suggest that Chowder, compared to human lifespan, is in his 'late seventies'. The gray cats, compared to humans, are, oh, about mid-sixties. By coincidence, I'm in my mid-sixties as well.
Pets don't have any idea how old they are. I think I might enjoy not knowing how old I am. Unfortunately we humans have calendars to keep track of these things. For an excellent description of the invention of the calendar I suggest you listen to The Adventures of Greggery Peccary by Frank Zappa.
By any measure the youngest member of our household is Doctor Pyewacket, the black kitten which Leslie found in the bushes near our house. Pyewacket will be four years old this spring. This cat on the fence post is not Doctor Pyewacket.
That fence cat is probably one of Pye's distant cousins, a member of the same feral clowder of cats to which we think Pyewacket traces his ancestry. HERE is the real Doctor Pyewacket sitting on the floor. (Yeah, I had to look up the word 'clowder'.)
The good doctor recently had serious health issues in the form of blocked urinary tract. He nearly died. After multiple visits to the the kitty hospital his condition mysteriously improved just about the time the vet suggested surgically removing his penis.
Penectomies are never the preferred option for billions of male humans worldwide. I, for one, wince just hearing the suggestion, even when it isn't me being considered as the patient. The subject of penises has come up several times during Mixed Meters' varied history. Read all about them here.
We presume that Pyewacket spent the first few weeks of his life out in the wilds of suburban Pasasdena. Since then we've confined him indoors - safely away from predatory coyotes and unable to predate on cute little birdies. Spackle and Crackle have never been outside a single day in their entire lives. Or, for that matter, even for a few minutes. (Yeah, predate is not really a real word.)
Poor Doctor Pyewacket is pretty much at the bottom of the feline pecking order in our little cat trio. Maybe it should be called "scratching order"? In any case, old skinny Spackle can send young virile Pyewacket running off with one swipe of her paw.
Shooting pictures of Pyewacket is difficult. All black cats are hard to photograph. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just not a great photographer. Maybe shooting pictures of black cats is really easy. Or maybe I don't have good enough equipment. Yes, that's it. That must be the problem - I have been given inadequate tools.
Blaming inadequate results on something or someone else is becoming common in the U.S. these days. If good stuff happens, sure, that was us doing that. We'll happily take credit for the good stuff. When bad stuff hits the fan - find someone to blame. In fact, maybe "Blame Them" should replace "e pluribus unum" as our national motto. It's shorter and easier to remember.
Recently a complete stranger came up to me and said she thought that I looked like Marlon Brando. She asked whether I was told that often. Looking at this picture of Doctor Pyewacket holding on to my shoulder for dear life, I think I look more like Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell. Now there's someone who deserves a lot of blame for America's current impasses.
I will say that Mitch does have more hair than I do. I wonder if he owns a cat.
