8 posts tagged “muki”
While they have already had one brief introduction, the two creatures with whom I share my home are demanding enough attention this morning that I feel compelled to introduce them again.
Muki is my heart. I adopted him when he was about six months old and I was living with Mark#2. Muki has been with me through nine moves (three of them cross-country), six jobs, three relationships, one going-back-to-school, and my mother’s death. He is now 15. He has a mild heart murmur, hyperthyroidism controlled by topically-applied methimazole, high blood pressure kept in check by controlling the thyroid, and a tendency to produce calcium oxalate crystals which are discouraged by a potassium citrate solution mixed into a prescription diet. He has had two surgeries to remove stones from his bladder, and when he was young almost died when his pancreas became inflamed for a reason that was never discovered. For a couple of years, he was under the regular care of a cardiologist. He is a finicky eater, which makes administering the potassium citrate a painstaking process involving progressive bribes of k/d crunchies. He is a very high maintenance boy, but the checkups he has had over the past three years have found him to be holding steady, and he is still spry and enjoying life. He is a good traveler and a patient patient. Oddly, he loves to lick plastic – bags, shower curtains, shrink-wrap, bubble-wrap – anything flexible, though bags appear to be his favorite. He is a very social boy, happy to meet anyone who comes to visit. He snuggles down next to me every night. He is almost deaf, but I talk to him anyway. He is my bunny, my Mooklet, the Mook.
Lila, also known as Bean, joined the family in 2001, at four months old. She was incredibly shy at first, and it took a couple of years before she would let me pet her. Her most distinguishing physical feature is her owl-like countenance. She is also the one who attracts the attention of visitors with her beauty, unapproachable as it is. Her approachability continues to increase in tiny steps; she is no longer afraid of my brother and sister-in-law and actually seemed to like having the last boyfriend around. I wish she would let me brush her, but she prefers to shed her prolific fluff, supplemented with the occasionally hairball, directly onto the rug. These days she often wakes me in the morning with a soft mew and a gentle claw plucking at the shoulder of my t-shirt, which seems to mean “if you please scratch my ears and chin briefly I will purr, but soon thereafter you must get up and feed me.” When this doesn’t work, she is very creative at finding ways to make noise. This morning it was the bag of paper recycling, followed by a race around the room. I rarely have a satisfying lie-in thanks to the Bean, but she is less annoying and more entertaining than most alarm clocks, and fuzzier.
... I'm starting to think about getting a dog. Maybe this fella...
Yes, I live in a tee-niny condapartment with two cats and no yard. But, I could offer an older, slower dog gobs of love, lots of urban walks, and the probable affection of at least one cat. My Great Pyrenees niece Asha came to visit the other night and Muki seemed quite happy to meet her gentle self. I suspect he would have preferred a canine roommate to Lila.
I have been sucked in by two wonderful things at the beginning of this week:
1) I finally bought an iPod. What took me so frickin' long? Possibly something to do with a general mistrust of new technology, an enduring and unhealthy tendency to swallow whole my audiophile older brother's opinions on what constitutes a good recorded music experience, and a fondness for cover art and the vinyl 7-inch format and overflowing shelves. At any rate, I love it. Now I get it. I never want to be separated from it. The fact that this acquisition comes on the heels of returning a very fine though oft-repaired and yet still half-functioning hi-fi system (generously gifted upon me three years ago by my well-meaning brother and sister-in-law) which carried unhappy associations with a certain hi-fi shop-dude, in favor of a $119 used receiver/amplifier from the same hi-fi shop, oddly adds to a feeling of personal victory. For me, this exchange makes so much sense. Hurray!
2) After a very slow start, I finally got sucked into the last Harry Potter book. What took me so frickin' long? (oh yeah, I moved!) When books 5 and 6 were released, I attended midnight bookstore parties and devoured each within two days. Both times, coincidentally, my cat Muki had just had surgery and was confined to the bedroom wearing an Elizabethan collar to prevent incision licking, and it was rather comforting to hang out with him on the mattress upon the floor, reading and reading. For this book, I haven't yet made time to read except just before going to sleep, which always seems to win out.
So tonight, I am skipping dance class to snuggle down with Muki on the mattress upon the boxes and my 80-gigapet daemon, playing the Moonbabies over and over and waiting out Kreacher's return with the locket before turning out the light.
Show us some sunshine.
Submitted by Cath.
I experienced the morning light in my new dwelling unit for the very first time today.
Muki seems to approve.
I say! nothing says "new home" quite like the scent of a new vinyl shower curtain.
Show us something fluffy.
Submitted by little♫miao.
and just in time, too, before the nephew got all the attention:
and because I have even less restraint than usual this morning, here's a tune as well:
What do you think your pets would act like if they were people? Do you think you'd get along with them?
Submitted by Melissa.
Muki is generally chill, suave, warmly affectionate, and very interested in any visitors, but self-confident enough not to demand the spotlight. He is dark, lean, aging handsomely, and not afraid to show vulnerability. He has developed a complex array of health issues which are somewhat controlled by medication and diet. I am also convinced he has a sense of humor. For his biopic, I think Rupert Everett or Denzel Washington would be appropriate. (Except perhaps for the compulsive-tendency-to-lick-smooth-plastic and the howl-and-beat-up-on-Lila scenes.) Yes, we would get along, and I expect I would adore him in person as I do his cat self.
Miss Lila Bean is a coy bundle of neuroses. The first thing you might notice about her are her wide-open owl eyes. She is petite and curvy and has very foxy long black fur. She is shy with strangers, but wants the attention (at a distance) of visitors with which she has some familiarity. With me she is sometimes cuddly (but might nip or claw if the unguessable boundaries of the moment are overstepped), always wants attention even when untouchable, and often chatty, annoyingly so. I haven't seem much evidence of cleverness in the six years she's been part of the family. She seems to enjoy whomping Muki when he's not the aggressor himself, and teasing him when he is. I am allowed to be her friend, as long as I know my place, and keep the food coming. In human form, this might translate to being allowed to be among the trusted admirers of a drama princess. No way would I want to spend time with her in human form, but as a kitty she has endeared herself mightily.
It is Saturday morning at 10:21 am. I am not in ballet class, and not rushing to get to modern class. I am not even in SIFF volunteer training which I thought was today but is actually next week, but at least the "oh crap! I'm late" jolt of adrenaline got me out of bed, in the shower, and out the door, heart a-pumpin' as I rushed to the Neptune, only to learn my mistake, have a leisurely sunny stroll home, treat myself to a fancy coffee prepared by the nice man who wears lavender glasses at my favorite coffee window counter along the Ave, breathe, and decide how to best use the unexpected "free" time.
I am staring down this list of things that must be done before heading to the airport tomorrow morning, and obviously procrastinating by taking the time to document this state of mind for all the online world to read or not read:
- Laundry, if I want to be able to pack clean underwear.
- Wash dishes, so cat sitter will have some counter space to work with to prepare vile prescription canned cat food blend, and not have to wash dishes on which to serve it on the first day.
- Write out the important details the cat sitter might need. Lay out Muki's medications on the counter, once it is visible again.
- Meet with realtor to go over and sign the offer papers for the 410 sq. foot fixer-upper condominium I decided to try and buy.
- Don't panic. Much.
- Pick out CDs for the trip and insert into sleeves of carrying case (alas I am still holding out making the switch to an mp3 player).
- Print out a bunch of documents needed for work and the trip.
- Pick out the airplane book. I think for the eastbound flight it will be:
- Don't forget to pack a very belated xmas present for a friend I'll be seeing back east, plus the dried cherries and almond roca for the office.
- Throughout the day, obsessively check real estate listings and condo blogs to make sure nothing new hits the market in the hours before boarding plane and leaving offer papers in hands of realtor.
- Also loaf around as much as possible reading other people's more interesting blogs, interspersed with making pointless edits to this post.
- Don't think about the fact that if the offer is accepted, closing on the sale will probably happen two days before having to fly to LA and make that scary scary conference presentation, concurrently with meeting a deadline on a project that will take more hours that my normal workday involves. (Why did I decide to do this now?)
- Repeat #5.
- Carve out path through piles of clutter so cat sitter will be able to navigate through apartment with reduced risk of injury.
- Deal with any unpaid bills unearthed in the excavation.
- Change litter in catbox.
- Take out trash.
- Vaccum at least the top layer of cat hair off exposed areas of rug so cat sitter will be able to detect any hairballs or other such surprises before stepping on them.
- Take frequent breaks during actual packing to snuggle with cats. Do best to distract them from the suitcases and packing frenzy and hopefully discourage any gestures of disapproval they might be tempted to deposit on the rug.
- Sleep at least a few hours, or prepare to get sick yet again.
Oh look, it's now 11:22! Procrastination successful. Over and out.
p.s., 21. Don't freak out about having to board an airplane, at least until after a cursory attempt at #20.
22. Ride bike. If I had done this last night as planned instead of looking at a 410 sq. ft. dwelling unit, this list wouldn't include #s 4, 5, 12, or 13.
1. Coaxing a geriatric hyperthyroidal calcium-oxalate-crystallizing murmuring-hearted feline to eat his foul prescription diet.
2. Conference call with boss an hour before official telecommuting start time to discuss draft shared workspace lease with local like-minded non-profit. It's actually going to happen! As early as May 1! Actual live office colleagues with whom I share more than least-common-denominator interests!
3. In the wake of this happy discussion, being guilted into agreeing to make a presentation at a conference in June in lieu of boss. Gulp. Involves the following elements deeply feared by the agreeor: a. public speaking, b. air travel, c. Los Angeles. Oh crap.
