A Billicat?

Without even knowing it, we got ourselves a Billicat--the other name for a tuxedo cat. According to Wikipedia, "to be considered a tuxedo cat, its black coloring should be solid throughout, with white limited to the paws, belly, chest, throat, and possibly the chin: it should appear as if the cat is wearing a tuxedo." Tuffy definitely looks like he's wearing a tux, but he has some white on his legs, so maybe he's a semi-tuxedo cat. He definitely is not a "cow cat" (also known as "moo cat")--the other type of bicolor cat. (Sput's markings were like this--but if he were still alive, I would not tell him. Too unmanly.)

Cow cat (markings resemble Holstein cattle)

Chelsea Clinton's cat, Socks, was a Billicat too. (Sadly, I heard on the news that he died a few days ago.)

Socks the Great (notice White House in background)

Thanks for the name suggestions! We're also considering Oscar, after the baby in Ghostbusters, and the star-studded black-tie celebrity event.

No diabetes!

Well, the vet's verdict was that Tuffy was FREAKED OUT, not diabetic. Woo hoo! I brought him home today, he seems totally unfreaked out now. But then again, he hasn't met the other cats yet; we thought it'd be best to take things one step at a time.

In the hour he's been home, Tuffy has settled into Lindy's bedroom nicely. I made this little movie so you can see his pantalooms, fuzzy face, and bare naked little body. We're hoping his hair will grow in eventually. We're accepting cat name suggestions; apparently "Tuffy" is the name the shelter people gave him when he arrived, so I doubt that a new name will bother him.

To top off this joyous day, Chris and Kathi are coming over tonight to cook dinner for us! Boy, healthy cats, other people cooking, and I bought a package of Cadbury Mini Eggs when I stopped to get a new litter pan for Tuffy. I'm telling you, life doesn't get much better than this.

Chicken hawk at the lunch counter

This afternoon I looked out the back window and noticed it seemed unusually quiet around the bird feeders. I quickly realized why: chicken hawk was back in town, and he looked hungry. Luckily none of the grey miscellaneous birds who usually hang around our bird feeders were around--probably because they had no interest in being chicken hawk's lunch. This dude is brazen; I walked right out on the back porch and took about 10 shots of him (not at him) before he said "up yours" and flew away.

Tuffy update: I called the Utah Animal Adoption Center this afternoon, as instructed, to find out the results of his blood work-up. The nice lady at the desk told me to call back on Friday afternoon. Now, if I worked at an animal shelter that had 79 cats available for adoption, and some reasonably sane person came in with an interest in adopting one of them, I think I'd be a little more motivated to move the blood work along--but that's just me.

She did feed me one bit of hopeful news. Apparently the vet said, "Sometimes their eyes are dialated because they are scared [rather than because they have diabetes]." Gee....scared, just because you live in a tiny metal cage inside an animal shelter along with 78 other homeless cats who spend all day and all night listening to dogs barking?

Here's a clip I took of the little guy. Notice the drool, crazy eyes, and hip haircut...

Woe is me

About a week ago I decided it was time to stop mourning for my beloved Sput and go out and find a cat like Sput who needs us, realizing, of course, that no cat like Sput actually exists. I began to look through all the cat listings at the adoption agencies--and I must say, the number of cats that are up for adoption is absolutely heartbreaking. I was looking for an older male cat who probably wouldn't be adopted by "normal" people, but would be likely to get along with other cats. I wanted a sweet cat who really needed a home.

I came across a photo of this cool looking ten-year-old tuxedo cat named Tuffy who was taken to a shelter after his owner died. After his "time was up" at that shelter, he somehow landed at the Utah Animal Adoption Center in North Salt Lake. This poor cat has been at the North Salt Lake shelter since December, and who knows how long he was in the previous shelter. Look how cute he is:

When I called about him this morning, I was told that he was going to be getting some blood work done Wednesday "because of his age." They also mentioned that he'd recently been shaved due to excessive matting. I told them I didn't care about the shave or the blood work, and asked if I could come see him anyway. They reluctantly agreed. I thought they might be embarrassed at how he looks, and I don't care about that.

I drove to the shelter and they brought "Tuffy" out, all wild eyed and bare naked and scared to death. I spent 20 minutes with him, and after noting his loud, nonstop purr, his excessive drooling, his appreciation for vigorous petting, and his refusal to leave my lap, I told the nice shelter folks I wanted to take him home.

That's when they told me he probably has diabetes (Sput, you may recall, succumbed to diabetes in November), which is the real reason they ordered the blood work-up. They'll know the status of his long-term health tomorrow. That's why the tech was reluctant to have me meet this cat.

Tomorrow I'll call to find out the fate of "Tuffy." I'm heartbroken. Stay tuned.

Valentine's Day cookies/carrot ideas needed

Some little kids from down the street delivered two heart-shaped, iced sugar cookies to us today. They were fantastic. Let's hear it for good Samaritans!

I'm in a "lunch club" at school, and our theme is carrots next week. I have to prepare some kind of carrot side dish for my contribution. Any ideas? (I experimented with a carrot/potato/ zucchini shredded dish last weekend, but it didn't work out.)

Queen for a day

Yesterday my colleagues voted in favor of my promotion to associate professor. We don't have a tenure system at our college, but if you meet the time requirements for promotion, you apply, put together a big old thick dossier filled with stuff that shows why you are worthy of promotion, and all of your colleagues who are already associate or full professors have a long discussion of your worthiness. Then they vote. You don't get officially notified until the dean, provost, president and board of trustees all approve, but yesterday a bunch of people stopped by my office to give me a thumbs up, which I took to be a positive sign. Also, two people broke the code and actually told me I'd passed. I totally feel like queen for a day.