Yearly Vet Visit

Once a year, Max cat is subject to the indignity of a visit to the vet. First step is to lure him into the cardboard cat carrier. Hah! First step is to catch him, because friend Sam has shown up and cat does not know him well. Then the cat carrier, then the car -- and, as above, unloading the load.

We go in through the cat entrance, into the cat waiting room.

In the examination room. Once Max had been pulled out of my sweater sleeve, where he was hiding from monsters, he got loving attention from the vet and her assistant. It was all over quickly: eyes, teeth, tummy, ears, temperature, rabies shot, feline leukemia shot. Back into the cardboard cat carrier and home again, with many thanks to friend Sam. Local tidbit: ours is not a climate conduce to flea problems, per the vet. Thank the dryness.

FYI: This is a bad shot I took when Max was trying out for Dunecat; he didn't make it because he does NOT control the spice.

Cat in a box

Like many cats, my Max hankers after enclosed spaces. For example, there is no longer a wastepaper basket in my office -- I got tired of picking up the scrids and scraps left on the carpet when he knocked the basket over as he tried to climb in. On this particular occasion, I had received a package of goodies from Land's End, resulting in a perfect, cozy fit of a box.

End of sequence. Max tired of this particular box, perhaps because I was paying too much attention.

However, I did get the opportunity for a nice close-up of cat (above) and his right ear (below). Too bad his little ear tuft was not in focus.

Another Blogged Cat or Two: Fellow blogger Catalyst features Smoke on his logo at the top of Oddball Observations and regularly posts about his feline collective; his most recent is a paean to Jazz, who curls up in his lap, purrs and Does Not Bite. Quite unlike my Max who figures he should be Alpha in the household and as such, has a right to reach over and take a chunk out of my arm. At his pleasure. How he hates the word NO.

Catz! Why not?

I frequently see this wrought iron cat when I'm out for a short walk -- and when I arrive back home, who should often greet me but my fine Max cat. Nor does he necessarily sit there on the porch, waiting for me -- being a proper semi-Siamese, he often comes running up to say "welcome home!" Not always, of course, being a proper semi-Siamese.

But then, he's a pampered cat. Much like kids who get to lick the bowl in which the cookie batter was mixed, Max gets to clean out the can which holds his "breakfast" when it is emptied every four days. Much tastier than the same food when it is placed in his dish.

Critters, virtual and real

I'm beginning to like that tuxedo cat down the block. When I set forth for today's neighborhood walk, there he was, high in a tree, comfy and self-sufficient as only a cat can be.

Then I continued down the alley. Today was the day to photograph the chinks covering small passageways in otherwise impenetrable fences.

Here's why: ain't he handsome? No, I did not see him/her today, that's a picture from a chance encounter over a year ago. However, the neighborhood skunks are the reason for chinking the fences -- and bricking up a gate as well.

Meanwhile, back in that tree... It wasn't until I downloaded my pictures that I realized the cat had looked up and seen something Very Interesting overhead. For...

He was much higher in the tree on my return trip.

As my camera watched, he decided it was time to come down. I wondered if this was the sort of cat that would get stuck up in a tree and require ladders, firemen and much ado.

Apparently not. Soon he was back in his favored aerie, looking smug as only an accomplished cat can look smug.

New Linkage: Prescott Style has found some impressively big beautiful crystals in a wash somewhere in the vicinity of Skull Valley. And Read It News, with a new owner (daughter of Mayor Jack Wilson), is back up and running.

Cat Xing

I thought my luck was with me this afternoon. There was the handsome neighborhood tuxedo cat posing, right next to The Sign recently erected at a nearby house. So I tried to get an image with both cat and sign. Hah! Dang car was in the way. You'll see I did my best, even as cat was getting bored.

However, I had seen a display down at the pharmacy. Same sign. Cutesy pooh. But then I'm a bit of a connoisseur of kitsch. As long as I was there, I had to take pictures of several similar signs (below).

There was even this Arizona special, which stylistically looks to have come from a totally different source.

Monsoon rains equal a green world

Arizona in August is a different world. The monsoon rains green the hills from the deserts up into the high country; what was hot and dusty is now verdant.

Walking my little hillside to see what changes had happened during my Alaskan holiday, I discovered that the wild morning glories were absolutely covering the barren ground, except near the new monster ant hill. Where there were shrubs (below), they were in climbing mode. No flowers yet; it seems that the morning glories only start blossoming once they figure they can't shoot up much further.

The buckwheat plant that I call the white fluffies is putting out many many long stringy greygreen stems which will be covered with tiny white flowers as we approach autumn, hence my name.

No surprise that the recent rains have awakened more mushroom spores.

The miniature hen & chicken I planted by the mailbox decided to spread -- and to open pretty little flowers -- while my datura has grown four buds. This time I have promised myself to draw up a perch and sit with camera ready the evening the first flower is scheduled to open; I hope that a hawk moth or two shows up to fertilize the blossom. And yes, I discovered that another datura has come up. From seed, no less. With my previous track record, I feel accomplished.

While I was inspecting the back forty, I flushed the battle-scarred interloper, who seems determined to take over from poor Max. Spotted a couple of places where he had left his calling card.

Among the cats

Max (left), Yoda (right). While the guest cat was visiting, the two animals had a curious relationship. Much of the time, Yoda was penned into the living room so that the two did not have to see one another. But even when our various siamese mutts were available to one another, we did not have a major MROW!!! scene. They sorta tippy-toed around each other, touching noses occasionally, hissing once or twice.

Yoda is a pushy, take-over sort of cat and I think that my dear companion was more than a little cowed by all this Attitude. Unfortunately, I seldom had the camera at hand when both critters were together.

When it came time to leave, the guest cat, who is a good traveler, was put into the car. At one point before departure, he jumped out and ran up the stairs, heading for what he had turned into His House for 10 days. Then it was bye-bye, Yoda.

Now this is interloper cat, a battle-scarred vet who shows up periodically, with every intention of Taking Over the Neighborhood. He even sashays indoors, if I chance to leave the door open to cool things off.

A couple of days after the guest cat had gone, I heard a loud MROW!!! Dashing out to protect my wimpy Max (with camera this time), I spotted the scene above. Look at Max' ears, flat against his head. His turf. Go Max, go!

Sure enough, interloper cat slunk off in the face of this territorial defense (or perhaps my appearance). Good Max! Brave Max! Angry Max! Not often I see him with a razor back.

Fire Note: The Crown King fire is 95% contained, plus more rain today.