Cats, Pills, & Injuries That May Require Medical Attention

Scene: Harris household, 5 a.m. The cats are at different windows, staring with wonder at the white stuff that covers the ground. The fish circle lazily in their tank (fish are hard to impress). Husband and wife stand with arms interwoven around upper bodies, speaking in soft whispers as they stare at the fresh new world of winter whiteness.

"Ready?" I ask, and Blair nods. Softly, so as not to disturb the scene of domestic tranquility taking place, we glide over to where Olivia, our tabby, is staring out the window.

"See the snow, baby?" I ask. "Isn't it pretty?" My kitten turns to me with wide eyes filled with wonder. I give Blair the nod. He leaps onto the couch and grabs a startled cat.

"Got 'er!" he yells, quickly followed by, "Wait, no, wait...AAAaugh!!!"

Cat and man flail across the room. "It's time... to... take... your... pill!", Blair gasps as he throws himself on top of what is now a whirling dervish of fur and claws. You can almost hear Olivia's response in her muffled meows: "YOU... CAN'T... MAKE ME!"

My job is to stand by, pill in hand, so that when he does catch her, I can pry open her mouth and stuff the pill to the back of her throat. Neither of us enjoy this process.  Plus, I'm feeling terribly guilty this morning as I chopped garlic for last night's dinner and my hands now smell like a vampire hunter's bordello.

"Do you have her?" I ask. Blair pops out from beneath the couch and gives me a dirty look. "Does it look like I have her?" he asks.

We finally manage to subdue her and bring her into the kitchen. I'd read that if you give your cat the pill in the same place each time, they will come to associate being in that place with "pill time" and will quickly learn to cooperate, knowing the quicker they take their medicine, the quicker it will be over. Right. Who writes these advice tips--monkeys on typewriters? Dog lovers?  If anything, Olivia revs up her attempts to flee once we reach the kitchen.

"Okay pumpkin," I coo. "Real easy this time. One, two, three and down.  Mommy loves you. Mommy would never hurt you. Mommy--"

"Will you just give her the damn pill?" says Blair.

Right. I lean over and open her mouth, just like my vet showed me. I drop the pill in.

"Is it in?" asks Blair.

"It's in," I say, "Wait. I think it's in." I peer inside the throat. "It might be in."

He is struggling to hold Olivia, whose fur becomes eel-like in its slipperiness when she wants to escape. "In or out?" he heaves, trying for a new grip. Too late! She's sensed her chance. She takes a swipe at his arm, leaps over his shoulder, lands on the floor and bounds away.

Blair looks at me. "I'm pretty sure it was in," I say.  He goes to the sink to wash his hands. I walk down the hall.

"Are you okay, baby?" I call.

"I'm fine," he responds.

I think it best not to mention that I wasn't talking to him.

Meanwhile, we have another 8 days of cat pills to go. Pray for us.

Dena's Team

I am going to kill  my neighbor. He went to sign our "Supergeezer" team (see prior entry here) up for the Valentine's Day Massacre Marathon Relay and had to list a team name.

"I called it 'Dena's Team,'" he informed me during our run the next day.

"You what?" I squeaked.

He shrugged. "I didn't want to use my name."

Nice. So now I'm the leader, at least in name, of a Supergeezer team. And my competitive streak has kicked in. We can't win this marathon relay by any stretch. There are some people running the marathon solo who will come in under 3 hours. But I wonder how many Supergeezer teams there are and if we have a chance of beating them? It would be nice to be the TOP Supergeezer team. If my name's on the team, we're going to aim for an award.

Bring it, folks.

Reflections of the Heart, Foster Care Art & Essay Contest

It's amazing how the world has a way of circling back around. About 5 or 6 years ago, when I had my first itchings toward being a writer, I became friendly with a woman who was a volunteer at the Women's Resource Center. She wrote for a newspaper and when I told her I wanted to write but was nervous about the interview process, she let me shadow her on an interview and showed me how to structure an article. She edited the very first newspaper article I ever wrote (about the Women's Resource Center) and we've stayed in touch on and off through the years, more off than on recently.

Still, I was delighted when she tracked me down a few weeks ago and asked if I would be a facilitator for the Foster Friends of North Carolina's first ever art and essay contest. On a weekend in February, I'll meet for two hours with kids ages 10-18 and lead them through some creative writing exercises and hopefully help them mold an essay for the contest.  Volunteers from the Greensboro Jr. Women's League will be on hand to sit one-on-one with the kids and assist them, if needed.

They also want me to talk about being a writer and what it's like to write a book and the opportunities that can present when you learn to express yourself on the page. I think the day will be a lot of fun but I must admit I'm a little nervous. I'm going to work to find some fast, fun exercises that I hope will get the kids engaged and thinking/laughing.  I just don't want them to be bored or feel overwhelmed. I'd love for them to keep trying the writing exercises even outside of the workshop.

I'm hitting up my writer friends for ideas, but if any of you reading this have any ideas on what might work with the kids, please don't hesitate to post here or e-mail me at ddharris@triad.rr.com.  I've got about a week and a half to figure out what I'll be using in my workshop.

If anyone wants to read more about the contest, log onto www.FFNC.org.

Huff... Puff... Gasp...

Yesterday I journeyed to Uwharrie National Forest to do a trial run of the 8-mile course I'll be racing on in a few weeks for the Uwharrie Mountain Race.  There is a 8-mile, 20-mile, and 40-mile race. I, thank God, only signed up for the 8-miler, along with my friend Keith. My hard core  running buddies Dave and Michael are running the 40 miler--for the 10th time. 

Below is a chart with the course elevation. Notice how mile one goes UP.

As the four of us set out on the first mile yesterday, the phrase I'm screwed kept coming to mind. Not only does the course start up, but it's on this rocky uneven surface. I couldn't find my footing and felt like I was falling/leaping more than running. The downhills were worse. I couldn't shake my fear of falling and held my body tight and tried to ease down them, which only made it worse. Michael whooshed by me at about 90 mph, making the downhill look easy.

It got better though. The trail turned into less dry river bed running and more trail after mile one. Still challenging, as leaves cover the forest floor and you can't see rocks or roots just waiting to trip you. (The course instructions note that all runners should expect to fall at least once during the day.) But it was a beautiful run and I got better at finding my footing as the morning progressed. I think it will be a lot of fun on race day with runners darting everywhere through the trees and scrambling up and down the mountainside.

Thank God Dave and Michael took us out yesterday for this practice run.  I think I mentally would have freaked out on race day during that first mile. Now that I "know" the course and know I can do it, I'm looking forward to having some fun on race day.

Oh--and just to show you what a difference trail running makes, note my time. An everyday 8-mile run on pavement might take me about an hour and ten or fifteen minutes.  This run took an hour and forty-five minutes.  And I was whuped at the end. Very happy to see the car.

Still, I can see why trail runners swear never to go back to pavement running. Yesterday it was us, barren trees, a carpeted forest, crisp air, mountain views, and nothing to do but run.

Not too shabby.