No Cats Allowed - The Kracker Cat Blog

Kitty cats and Mormon missionaries

2009-12-06T00:21:00.006-09:00

I heard a knock upon my door the other evening and opened it to find two Mormon missionaries standing upon the porch. So I invited them in to meet the cats. Here they are, the young Elder Smith and the young Elder Wadsworth, posing with Royce, who is very old, even though he is younger than they.

Muzzy comes to get in the picture.

He terrifies the missionaries, so I have to take him to the garage.

Martigny comes to bless them with her presence. The missionaries wanted to baptize the two cats, but both refuse. Mormons believe in total immersion. These cats will not be immersed.

Wry and Royce.

Some of you may have already discovered that that other Wasilla blogger in the parallel universe has posted pictures identical to these on his blog.

He does things like that, sometimes. It makes me very angry.

I punched him in the nose, once, but the blow broke my own nose, so now I just let him get away with it.

Wry, Royce and cheese - the love story between the orange cat and the baby-turned-toddler-turned-little boy continues

2009-11-25T21:17:00.005-09:00

Wry grows ever more articulate. In the evening, I point my camera towards him and he suddenly shouts, "Cheese!" Another word in his vocabulary! But where did he pick it up from? I never tell anyone to say cheese. To do so would be to violate my photographic technique.

It must have happened at day care. At dare care, he gets his picture taken every day for the class on-line newsletter. The picture taker must have told him to say, "cheese!"

Wry and Royce.

Wry gives Royce a smooch.

After the smooch, Wry smiles.

Then he notices that I am still taking pictures. "Cheese!" he shouts again.

Wry gives Royce some love.

He pats his furry belly.

"Cheese!"

Oh, I tell you, this Royce is an indulgent cat!

We are very thankful for Wry and Royce.

Charlie the cat man comes to visit

2009-11-12T19:13:00.001-09:00

Charlie understands cats and they understand him. Here he is with Royce, both observing the same thing.

Royce needed a good brushing. Charlie gave it to him.

A bit later, little Wry came along, carrying socks.

Little Wry raises the socks into the air. What do you think he is thinking? What will happen next?

Good grief! Royce is wearing socks!

Royce goes to Tryskuit.

Royce and Tryskuit.

Royce relaxes by himself for awhile. Where is Charlie?

Why, Charlie is with Jim!

Zed - the latest addition to the Kracker Cats

2009-10-24T23:00:00.003-08:00

Here is Nabysko with Zed - the latest addition to the Kracker Cats. You will recall that Bryce, Nabysko's boyrfriend, is allergic to cats. That's why they went so long without a cat. But finally they got Juniper and, despite a bit of extra suffering, Bryce wanted them to have two cats.

Bryce liked Jim so much that he wanted that cat to be black. So, recently, they were down in Homer and they came up with this black kitten, Zed.

They bought a big, fancy, air cleaner that is going all the time. It has air-quality indicator lights - blue being best, red being worst. If the cats are a distance aways, the light is usually blue. If a cat come close, it turns red.

And here is Zed.

It is very dark in Nabysko's apartment, and I complained about how hard this made it for me to take a picture. (Oh yes, I know, I could have used flash - but I HATE flash.)

Tryskuit inserted a little light into the picture.

Tryskuit lights up Juniper.

Zed sees the light. I can't help but wonder if he saw anything, afterward.

Nabysko and Zed, in silhouette.

I call him, "Zederick."

I should note that I originally prepared five additional pictures for this post, of Diamond and Slick. However, Bill Hess needs to make a post on his blog in the parallel universe and both he and I are very tired, so we agreed that he would post the other five there, which you can find here.

However, if you click on the link and do not find the cats, that is because you have gone there before 4:00 AM AKDT, Sunday, October 25, 2009, when the Wasilla blog post is scheduled to go up. That would be 8:00 AM East Coast DT.

Royce grows old

2009-10-14T21:23:00.001-08:00

I hate to say it, but Royce is growing very old and ever more feeble. I don't know how much time we have left with him. Yesterday, Sunflower wondered if we should dig a hole in the backyard before freezeup. That could be any day now. Last year, it had happened by now.

It is very hard to dig a grave back there, once the ground has frozen.

Still, I don't think we will dig that hole now. Perhaps Royce can make it through another winter. I hope so. I think so. I'm not sure.

Of course, we are never sure, about any of us.

We are going to lose Martigne and Muzzy very soon - but for a better reason. Toast Ed and Sunflower are in the process of closing on a house in Anchorage. Once they do, they will move these two and little Wry into that house with them.

What will we do out here then?

A warm gathering between toddler, dad and cat ends in a high note

2009-10-06T00:51:00.000-08:00

Little Wry, Royce and Toast Ed were all snug and warm on the couch, enjoying each other's company.

Little Wry was overcome with an innocent, sweet, expression. This is when a toddler is at his most dangerous.

Suddenly, little Wry jumps up and kicks Dad... well, you know. Dad screams.

Now little Wry drops down with his knee. Royce is worried, but holds his ground.

Wry is very pleased. Royce ponders his own safety. Toast Ed squeaks out a few high notes.

I see a white cat as I walk past the house where the chicken crossed the road and the rooster got shot and the little dog nearly killed the rabbit

2009-09-16T01:06:00.001-08:00

Yes, many things involving animals seem to happen at this house. And today, I walked by and saw this cat chatting with these goats.

The goats are a little hard to see, but they are there, on the deck, peeking out from behind the fence.

For you, Heidi: Pistol-Yero

2009-09-02T00:08:00.002-08:00

Heidi, I took these pictures of Pistol-Yero just for you. Here he is, on the bed where he sleeps with Jim and me (and when Sunflower heals, her, too).

He ponders my lens.

He reaches out to touch it. I pull it away before he can.

Jimmy grooms Pistol-Yero, Pistol-Yero grooms Jimmy.

Pistol-Yero and I, in my office.

To anyone else who may stop by, I did this for Heidi because she made a special request in a comment that she made on my last post.

The negligent cat blogger

2009-08-27T00:11:00.000-08:00

I have been most negligent concerning this blog recently. It is not because I want to be or have lost interest, it is just simply that I have become spread altogether too thin. Furthermore, I have become exhausted. I am exhausted when I go to bed at night, I am exhausted when I get up, I am exhausted at every point during the day.

But still I do quite a few things. The other day, as I walked, I saw this black cat ahead.

Funny. More than eight years have now passed since I lost my original black cat, Little Guy. I searched relentlessly for Little Guy. I made posters and put them up everywhere.

I drove to the pound, 12 miles away, again and again and again in the hope that he would show up there, even though I knew he would not.

And when I saw this black cat, eight-and-a-half years later, my heart leaped to my throat.

And then the cat saw me and ran off into trees.

And here is my shadow, hanging over Varmit, who lives with Dan, the camera shy man.

Varmit.

And here is a calico that I spotted yesterday as I pedaled my bike about Wasilla.

And here is my own calico buddy, Chicago, with Royce, today. They are enjoying a wild, raucous, time, chasing grizzly bears through their dreams.

One of these days, I will get caught up, rested up and I will steam forward on this blog once again. Don't give up on me.

Juniper comes for a visit, gets together with Wry

2009-08-23T22:14:00.000-08:00

I looked out my front window and was surprised to see that there was a tiny cow out in the yard, grazing on the grass. A really tiny cow. The tiniest cow that I had ever seen. I went out to investigate.

Why, it was not a cow at all! It was Juniper! That must mean that Nabysko was nearby.

Little Wry spotter Juniper, too, and skedadeled over. He was surprised. Wry does not see Juniper often.

"H'mmm," Wry contemplated. He seemed to wonder if she was safe to pet.

Nabysko appeared and gave Juniper a pet. This gave Wry confidence. He reached out to do the same.

Wry gives Juniper a pet.

Juniper escapes to the Escape.

Juniper poses by Nabysko's Cavalier.

From inside the front room, Martigne looks out the window. She is jealous. She wants to be out there, too.

Soon, the action moves to the back yard.

Juniper spots a bumble bee.

Juniper does some more grazing.

Toast Ed made this pile after the snow melted. We are waiting until the snow falls again and then we will burn it. Juniper decides to climb it.

Wry discovers that Juniper has climbed up the rubbish pile.

His dad gives Wry a boost so that he can better see. Juniper decides to leave.

Down Juniper goes.

But soon, she climbs right back up. That's because she can see the entire world from up there. Juniper believes that the entire world belongs to her.

And so it does.

Jimmy helps me edit pictures

2009-08-13T00:03:00.001-08:00

I hate to remove the picture of Wry pointing to the clouds as he rests his head upon Royce from the big picture spot, but this blog needs to move on.

As usual, I spent most of today sitting right here in front of my computer, editing the the pictures that I took on my recent Arctic Slope trip for the special issue of Uiñiq Magazine that I am putting together. I am way behind, due to Margie's injury, but I will get it done.

Jimmy spent the day with me, helping out, offering pointers. Here, he looks right into my eye, because the picture that you see on the screen, of Iñupiat Eskimo caribou hunters swarmed by mosquitoes, is reflected there. Using this method, Jimmy studies the picture so that he can tell me how it should be cropped.

This is how Jimmy thinks that I should crop the picture. I disagree. Jimmy is a lousy picture editor.

The love story between toddler Wry and Old Man Orange Cat Royce reaches the clouds

2009-08-10T01:15:00.002-08:00

Tryskuit and Charlie came to visit Sunday. Late in the evening, they went out to pick blueberries. A bit later, I went looking for them. This is how I found them.

Tryskuit got bit by a mosquito.

There really weren't that many berries. This is because little Wry and Toast Ed had already made a few trips through here, picking and eating all the berries they could.

Speaking of Toast Ed and Wry - here they come, with that giant, strange looking cat, Muzzy!

Now it's Wry, Royce and Muzzy! I wonder if they will find more berries?

No, but Wry finds grass, going to seed.

Royce gets up and heads to a spot where he thinks the grass will be taller.

Wry follows, then sits down beside him.

Sure enough, the grass is taller.

Wry reaches for the grass.

Wry studies the grass.

Wry uses Royce for a pillow.

Wry suddenly notices a beautiful cloud, passing overhead in the deep, blue, sky. He points it out to Royce, who does not care. But Royce does care about the boy. Royce loves the boy.

Ah, yes. A magic moment, one that will last forever.

A time of high ambition and roaring energy in the Kracker house

2009-08-08T21:29:00.002-08:00

As you can see, Pistol is full of energy, vigor, and vim.

So is Jim.

And Martigny, too.

Chicago can hardly be constrained. This is how we all are around here, right now. Give us some time. Rest will come, energy will be restored, Sunflower will heak and we will all be back as we were.

I just need about a 20 year nap, that's all.

So it shouldn't be too long.

2009-07-31T22:25:00.001-08:00

Do not expect any good photography or clever stories from me tonight, folks. I am drained and exhausted and it is all I can do to make a post at all - but I feel I must post just so you will know that Grahamn Kracker is keeping this blog alive. Those of you who visit the blog in the parallel universe already know what we have been through here since Sunflower fell and hurt herself.

Those of you who don't can find out right here: Sunflower's ordeal.

You can see how drained Toast Ed and Prickly Pear Blossom are. Thank goodness, Chicago is there to help get them through it.

And here is Royce, getting a drink. I know some of you will be greatly concerned to see such a picture and will want to admonish me to keep him indoors and serve him only the cleanest of water, but Royce is at least 15 years old now, maybe sixteen and he has lived this way all of his life.

We cannot change him now.

Royce walks away from his reflection.

Oh, my! The accident had not yet happened when I took this picture. We had just gotten up and the day was pleasant and we thought that it would remain so. It did not.

Pistol-Yero at 1:07 in the afternoon.

Little Wry Kracker and Muzzy, the strangest looking of all the Kracker cats.

Oh no! This picture got in here twice! Well, I am too lazy to go to html and take it out. That's how exhausted.
Oh, my! They really are exhausted.

And so am I. What would I do, without Jim to help get me through such moments?

Cleo finds a new home in Alaska

2009-07-28T22:58:00.000-08:00

Readers probably think that I have abandoned this blog; given up on it altogether. This is not correct. What is a hard fact, however, is that I just spent five weeks traveling on the Arctic Slope, where I visited five communities, and in that time I saw and met a total of but one cat, Sigñiq, who I photographed and introduced to you.

I am back home, now, exhausted, and with a new crisis to face as my lovely Sunflower has once again gone down with an excruciatingly painful knee injury, but at least I among my own cat buddies, who will soon begin to pop up in this blog again.

In the meantime, I did meet this character, Cleo, at the Anchorage airport shortly after my flight from Barrow landed and deboarded.

Cleo had just moved to Anchorage from Colorado.

I did a short interview with him:

Me: "Cleo, why did you choose to leave your home in Colorado to move to Alaska?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "I see. I agree completely. Alaska is God's favorite place. And how was your flight?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "That bad, huh?"

Cleo: "Meow! Meow! Meow!"

Me: "Well! Certainly I would agree that she should be reprimanded, but don't you think it would have been a little extreme to have opened the door and thrown the Stewardess out?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Actually, it's cats that always land on their feet, so she wouldn't have been okay. Besides, even if she did land on her feet, it was sixty below up there, so she would have been a popsicle and would have shattered when she hit the ground."

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Yes, I can accept that as punishment instead. It would be a real eye and nose-opener for her to have to fly from Denver to Anchorage in a little cage with a little tiny litter box that was always shifting around. But how do you feel about spending the rest of your life in Alaska?"

Cleo: "Purrrrrrrr...."

Siqñiq - with her around, the Arctic is always a sunny, warm, place

2009-07-01T22:29:00.005-08:00

Look! Sun shines out through the window! From the inside to the outside. The cat that you see is Siqñiq, and Siqñiq is the Iñupiaq Eskimo word for sun.

The month of April is typically very cold in the Arctic coast village of Wainwright, Alaska. Two years ago in April, Cora Akpik made a visit to the nearest city, Barrow, 97 miles away. She learned that her grown daughter had a cat that she had been unable to care for, so she had taken it to the vet for safe keeping until it could find a new home.

Cora had never had a cat before, but she decided to make her home the cat's home.

As is the case in most of Alaska, no roads link the Arctic communities to each other and so Cora had to fly home, along with her grandchildren, Nellie and Clyde, who you see here.

The cat, who did not yet have a name, flew along in a cat carrier.

Somehow, the cat escaped from the carrier and jumped onto the back of a woman who sat in front of her. The woman did not know what kind of animal had landed on her back. All she knew is that it had fur and claws.

Cats are not common animals on the Arctic Slope. Wolverines are. For all she knew, a wolverine had just jumped on her. Polar bears are also common in the Arctic. Maybe it was a polar bear. A real tiny one - tiny, but mean. The woman screamed and screamed.

Then she discovered that it was a cat. Everything was alright after that.

After they arrived home, where Cora lives with her husband, Max, Nellie and Clyde and other children and grandchildren, she did not know what to name the gray cat.

She looked out the window. The sky was blue, cold and clear above the snow-blown tundra and the ice-covered ocean. The sun shone brightly.

"Siqñiq!" she said in Iñupiaq.

Thus, Siqñiq was named.

Everybody in the house loves Siqñiq. "She likes to play hide and seek," Nellie says. The baby, by the way, is Cara Ann. Siqñiq is also a guard cat. She sits in the window sill and studies everyone who approaches the house. When they enter the door, she scrutinizes them closely. If she detects that any of them pose a threat to Cara Ann, she attacks, leaps and rips them to shreds.

Fortunately, no one who has ever entered the house has posed any threat at all to Cara Ann. Everybody who enters loves Cara Ann.

Siqñiq has never actually had to attack anyone.

But she scrutinizes everybody - including me.

Glad I passed!

It is expensive to feed Siqñiq. To save money over Barrow prices, the family buys her food and litter at Wal-Mart in Anchorage. From there, they fly it by jet 850 miles to Barrow and then by commuter airline to Wainwright.

Lemmings like to run around the Arctic Slope and all about the village of Wainwright. Siqñiq keeps them out of the house.

Siqñiq.

Nobody who I talked to could think of a single other cat living in Wainwright today. Siqniq may be the only one.

I did not meet any cat in Point Lay, the village that I visited just before Wainwright.

I expect to be back in the Arctic for most all of July. Anyone who wishes to follow my travels can click right here:

http://wasillaalaskaby300.squarespace.com/

We find the final cat that we would meet in India in a rather fruity situation

2009-06-22T01:07:00.006-08:00

There is a certain fruit shop near Soundarya's home in Bangalore where she likes to buy and she had recently discovered that a kitten had moved in. So she took us there.

Have you noticed how many orange and white cats there are in India? They seem to be a majority.

Tryskuit snuggles the kitten.

The shop owner said that the kitten had moved in about two weeks before and that he liked him. He wanted him to stay, and grow up as a store kitten.

"What is his name?" I asked.

"Cat," he answered.

Cat takes a great leap.

If he were a vegetarian, Cat would be Fat Cat.

Soundarya snuggles little Cat. As you can imagine, she had been feeling quite down about the calico. Yet, as hard as life is, live moves on and so she smiles again.

And she hugs her little friend. The next day, we, the humans, would all say goodbye at the Bangalore airport. There would be many hugs and tears, too. Tryskuit and I would fly home.

So that is it. For now.

Tomorrow, I head back to Alaska's Arctic Slope.

The world is forever changing before me. And always, I look to meet new cats.

We stop by to see a talking parrot and find Persians for sale

2009-06-19T18:58:00.001-08:00

In the evening of the day that we learned the horrible news about the little calico, Sandy took Tryskuit and I into downtown Bangalore to buy some gifts before we left for home. This would be our last night in India this trip.

She knew of a pet supply store where there was a talking parrot and she wanted to go see that parrot. "Are there any cats there?" I asked.

She did not think that there were, but, when we walked through the door, we saw a cage full of Persians. Their price - about $350 US each. That's a huge sum for the average person in Bangalore, although as the high-tech capital of India, the place has boomed and many people have become prosperous and a substantial number downright rich.

It is my hope that these cats soon find humans who will open not only their pocket books to them, but their hearts.

Tryskuit opened her heart and made a connection.

More Persians waiting for prosperous people to adopt them.

This orange boy is not for sale. His people have gone on vacation and the pet store is providing hotel services until they get back. He is not happy with the accommodations.

Sandy reaches through and gives him a pet.

Very shortly, we would go into another store and meet yet one more cat. I will introduce him in my next post, and then that will be all for this trip to India.

The Momma Cat is left to cry for her calico baby

2009-06-16T21:37:00.006-08:00

We arose before the sun the morning after the reunion and took off on a three day drive. It was marvelous trip, during which we experienced a small but significant part of the wonder that is India.

On the second night, after we checked into a little hotel in the village of Badami, which sits in the midst of a region of ancient Hindu ruins, many of which are not ruined at all, I heard the cry of a kitten.

I stepped into a nicely kept lawn surrounded by the "u" shaped hotel on three sides and a swimming pool on the fourth. A man sat, eating, at a table.

"Did you hear a kitten?" I asked him.

"Oh yes," he said. "It will show up soon." And it did. But it was wild and frightened, and neither Tryskuit or I could draw near to it. I failed to get a picture.

At the end of the third day, we turned back toward Bangalore on a drive that would last all through the night.

As we rolled down the busy Indian Highway, lightning blasting around us, my mind frequently turned to the Momma and her babies. I wondered how they were doing. I worried, but then I worry about many things. I consoled myself that they would be fine.

When we arrived back at the house at about 5:00 AM, I listened, but could hear no cats. Trusting that this meant that they were asleep, I went to sleep myself for a few hours - as did everybody else.

About 9:00 AM, I was woken by the forlorn and lonely "meow" of Momma cat. I listened, but did not hear the answer of a kitten in return.

Tryskuit and I then searched and searched, but we could find no sign of the kittens. We asked those who had stayed behind, and they said they had seen both kittens the day before, but not today.

Then, as I downloaded the trip pictures from my camera into the laptop, the woman next door, the one who had been feeding Momma cat, opened her door. There, standing beside her, next to her very own bowl of milk, was the orange kitten.

The woman had not seen the calico, but had heard a bit of commotion, found the orange kitten on the ground and had brought it into her house for its safety. I understood that she would now adopt it, even as she continued to feed the mother.

We continued to search. We put out our inquiry as to the whereabouts of the calico as far as we could - then we learned the horrid news. It had been eaten by a street dog.

Look at the Momma! How she did cry. No tears - but she cried. Her pain was bitter. I petted her and petted her, as did Tryskuit in turn. She seemed to take some solace in those pets, but they did not wipe away her pain.

I felt as though I had been kicked in the chest. Tears came to my own eyes. I did not let them linger, for to do so would do no one any good.

And as she cried, a male black came wandering by, a tom, then quickly disappeared.

Little One: I saw your great desire to live - I saw it in your eager posture, the glow in your eye, the plea in your meow. I saw you frightened, and alone, when your mother and your orange sibling got stuck in the little building and, with Tryskuit at my side and Buddy amused but eager to help, we did not stop our efforts for you until you were reunited with your family.

Then I saw your relief, your joy, and how quickly you put the fright behind you as you romped with your sibling, and suckled your mother.

I did all that I could for you, Little Kitten, but it was not enough.

How I wanted to pull you in and give you shelter of the safest kind, but I was not in a position to do so. How I wanted to pick you up, hold you, stroke you, comfort you, but I did not want to frighten you so I never did.

Some who will visit this page will say that you are at the Rainbow Bridge. For those who find comfort in the thought of such a bridge, where the spirits of deceased pets play and romp until that day when they can be reunited with their humans, fine, that is all very good and I encourage you to take your comfort there, for comfort should be taken where it can be found.

Thoughts of such a bridge do not comfort me, for those thoughts slam into hard reality.

Those who I was with at the time of your death believe that you will come back again, in another body, another form, perhaps human, again and again until at last you are perfected into ultimate happiness and glory.

To me, you were perfect already.

As stated in my previous post, I have but one source of solace. That is the happiness that I saw when you and your family were all reunited, when you suckled at your mother's teat. For that moment, which I helped to create for you, as did Tryskuit and Buddy, all was well. For that moment, the world was a warm and beautiful place.

In this matter, that knowledge is my sole solace.

A mishap separates the family; Tryskuit and I launch a rescue effort to reunite them

2009-06-14T21:45:00.002-08:00

Later, that very same day, I was working on my laptop when Tryskuit burst into the room where I had set up shop. "Dad!" she exclaimed. "There is a big drama happening with the cats!"

Apparently, the small orange one had worked its way off the roof and had then fallen through a high window in a tiny little building connected at the back to the home of our hosts. Momma Cat had then leaped through that window, knocking out a pane of glass as she did.

Now, she and the orange kitten were stuck inside. The little calico was stranded, all alone, on the eave where they had made their new home - as you can see above. I followed Tryskuit out to the second floor overlook. We could hear the Momma and the calico meowing to each other.

It was a sad and forlorn sound.

We could hear nothing at all from the little orange kitten.

The calico retreated to a position beneath the tin roof. Her tail and one leg protruded beyond.

The calico peeks back out at me. At first, I thought it would be an easy matter to reunite the little family. As the little room where the Momma and the orange had gotten themselve stuck in was connected to the home of our hosts, Murthy and Vasanthi, I figured that it was theirs' and that they would have a key to it.

It was not theirs' and they did not have the key. It belonged to a woman who lived on the second floor of the house directly behind hers and she had the key. They figured that in time, she would appear, hear the meows and let the kittens out.

I had no idea how long such a thing might take or what might happen in the meantime. As I pondered this situation, a raven landed on the wall over the calico kitten, took a good look at it and then flew away.

If that raven - or others - were to become convinced that this calico was alone and helpless...

And then we learned that the lady had rented the little room out to a man who slept there, but who was gone for four or five more days to come.

We could not wait. Something had to be done now. I felt rather odd about it, but I climbed over the wall you see here, then crossed the flat roof on the other side to the door of the second story residence.

I could hear voices inside, speaking in their native tongue. I knocked on the door. The voices went silent. No one answered. I waited. Then knocked again. More silence.

So Tryskuit and I went and got Buddy, Vasanthi and Murthy's nephew, on vacation from school. Buddy was a little amused that we were so worried, but he was also willing to help. He went and knocked on the same door that I had and then waited for about half a minute. Someone came to the door.

It was the lady and two children. They came over to peek down at the calico, but it had hidden beneath the corrugated roofing.

Buddy then acted very quickly - quicker than I wanted, because I wanted to photograph the process. He got the key from the lady and headed down, so quickly that, by the time I could secure my camera, cross over myself, find the stairs and prepare to go down, he had already opened the door. The Momma cat had stepped into the entrance.

The Momma cat steps outside the door.

She does not want to leave her orange kitten behind, however, so she steps back in and hunkers down.

The orange kitten rests on a gunny sack inside the home. As I take this picture, Buddy scoops up the Momma cat and heads back up the stairs. I then reach down, take hold of the frightened little orange, lift it to my chest and follow.

Fortunately, Tryskuit was in position on the deck at the Murthy, with her own camera. She documented the action as Buddy came carrying the mother kitten back for a reunion with the calico...

And then Tryskuit photographed me, as I came carrying the little orange kitten. Tryskuit and I were a true team this day.

After returning the mother to the eave, Buddy took the orange from me and prepared to reunite the whole family.

Buddy climbs down with the orange as the Momma cat watches.

As Buddy puts the orange cat down, the Momma retreats beneath the tin roof and the calico steps out.

The orange kitten takes off to join its mother and sister.

Soon, they all reappear. We can feel the joy and relief the family feels at being reunited once again.

Momma cat opens up to her kittens, so that they might have nourishment.

The neighbor lady, who did her part to help, admires the little family.

Tryskuit and I could see and feel the relief and joy the mother felt to be reunited with her baby calico, and to have her orange freed from the little building, to be together with both of them.

Yet, I also thought about all the dangers of this world, and what a harsh place it can be - totally indifferent to the happiness, health, safety and well-being of a tiny cat family. To the natural world such an individual family and all the members of it are of no consequence - should they go to feed a raven or a street dog, that is just fine with the natural world.

So I thought of these things and I felt most uneasy. In a very short time, Tyskuit, Vasanthi and Murthy and Buddy would leave on another tour and we would be gone for three days. There would be other people at the house and they all knew about the cats; furthermore, the lady next door to the side had taken a strong interest and was feeding the mother. We could only hope for the best in a dangerous world.

And I felt something else as I watched the mother suckle her babies, as I saw the look of contentment, relief and happiness radiate from her countenace - solace. I felt a sense of solace that, whatever the future might hold for them, at this moment, they were together. They were safe. They were content. The kittens bellies were being filled.

They were experiencing this only because Tryskuit and I had taken action, and then the others had joined to help us. So, whatever sorrows the future might hold, this would be my solace - that we had given them this moment, this beautiful, beautiful, moment.

This story will continue.

Slash and Bronzy honor the Kracker Cats with The International Award

2009-06-14T21:09:00.007-08:00

My cats have received an award, and there it is, up above. It is called the International Bloggers Community award and it is among the highest honors we could ever have received - right up there with the Nobel and Pulitzer prize. So we thank you, Slash and Bronzy. It was sent June 9 but I have not had the time to formally accept it by making this post until now.

And let it be known that Bronzy is undergoing a health crisis right now - but is expected to recover. So, everybody pull for Bronzy!

The hard part about receiving such an award is that I must now pass it on to seven other bloggers. That means I must leave out the many bloggers whose work and cats I enjoy and admire and I hate to do that.

Anyway, I will pick five almost at random out of my cat bloggers list and let me say that everybody on that list is worthy of this great award. So, here are the seven mnnnnnnnnnn: (I was going to correct the "mnnnnnnn" but it was typed in by my black cat, Jimmy, so I realized that it was correct to begin with. Jimmy is never wrong.).

Standtall - The Activist - Africa is known for its great cats - lions, cheetahs and the like - but in all of Africa there are no greater cats than those that prowl the roof and sleep in the bed of my good friend, Standtall.

The newly-wed Michico - pet of the very serious Adan and impossibly mischievous Lego.

Zippy, Sadie and Speedy - Who are Kattonic, but definitely not catatonic. Sorry about your woofie buddy, Alfred

The felines at ourcatablog - would that all the cats in the world could receive the love and care these fortunate ones do.

The busy mom at kazokuneko who busies herself with the rescue of kittens

Sharyn - Things seems to have gone a little batty at the Kitty City Gazette lately.

Sweet Praline - just like candy, but if you lick her you will get fur on your tongue.

Us Four Gatos - these four go about meowing in Spanish.

Links for all these sites will soon appear to the right.

And here are the rules:

Link to the person who passed you this prize (that would be me).
Display the badge, the rules and the questionnaire in all or one of your blogs
Publish the date when the award had passed to you.
Answer four questions following this rule.
List at least seven (7) friends in its list of blogs.
Come back to BLoGGiSTa iNFo CoRNeR and leave the URL of your Post in order for you/your Blog to be added to the Master List.
Have fun!

The happy day for this little feline family - Tryskuit and I get to witness it

2009-06-11T20:05:00.001-08:00

As you can see, the three were very happy. They played and played. They had a very good time.

Kittens need to eat - and that means that a mom must eat. So she goes off in search of a meal.

And she finds it - right next door where a kindly lady has been putting out food for her. She dines, and soon her food will be kitten food.

She returns to the kittens.

They continue to play.

How they play!

I can't tell you why, but I find myself feeling very fond of these two - and their mother.

She nestles in the corner. They come to her. Maybe they will dine now.

Nope - they play on.

Next: big drama unfolds for the little cat family.

Tryskuit and I suffer a big scare, then find the family has moved inches upward

2009-06-10T18:44:00.004-08:00

We spent three days on the drive that took us past the roadside stop where we met the pregnant momma cat of the previous post and got the quick glimpse of the black kitten. We arrived back at the home of our Bangalore hosts about 4:00 AM.

After we got a few hours sleep, I arose, ate one of Vasanthi's exquisite breakfasts, then went out the back door, climbed up and took a peek into the alcove to see how the momma and her two kittens were doing.

They were gone! No sign of them.

Both Truskuit and I were very worried.

We searched, and we asked. We learned that they had been seen through a high kitchen window - the very window that you see here.

But even there, we could not see them.

Then, as I was sitting working on my laptop, I suddenly heard a call from Tryskuit. "Dad!" she said. "I found the kittens!"

I followed her to an overlook at the back of the house. The picture above is exactly what I saw.

I was so relieved.

The mother cat soon showed up.

Mom and her two kittens.

The calico snuggles up to the mom.

The orange sees something beneath the ventilator. What could it be?

We will never know, but, presumably, the orange found out.

The orange goes for the mom's tail.

The calico goes for the orange's tail.

The calico and the orange snuggle.

The scene, looking beyond. As you can see, the homes are all very close together.

The orange looks for a meal while the calico plays with Mom's tail.

Tryskuit and I, observing the beautiful little calico. As you can see, their new home is just below the small segment of tin roof. This is only inches above the alcove where they had been living.

This story will continue.

A momma cat on the Indian roadside

2009-06-07T21:30:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the heroic efforts of our taxi driver, Manju, we had safely descended from a tea farm at an elevation of about 8000 feet up in the mountainous area of Ooty, India, down a windy road through wild traffic to a rest stop that sits just before the entrance to a national park where elephants would appear in our headlights. We were hungry, so we stopped and ate another delicious Indian dinner.

As we waddled back to the taxi, I suddenly spotted an orange and white cat walking through the shadows to my left.

"Kitty!" I shouted to Tryskuit and Soundarya, the other cat lovers in the group. Then, as the others watched with bemusement, the three of us dashed over to meet her.

This is she and, as you can see, she is pregnant.

Tryskuit gives the pregnant orange cat a scritch.

Tryskuit and the pregnant orange cat.

Soundarya gives the pregnant orange cat a scritch.

Tryskuit watches as the pregnant orange cat strolls past.

A black kitten appears in front of a door. Soundarya strolls over to say "hi," hoping to give it a scritch, too.

But the black kitten is not a scritch taker. It dashes off.

Then we all climb back into the taxi. Manju drives us into the midst of the elephants of the steamy India night.

Soundarya meets the kittens

2009-06-05T22:11:00.008-08:00

I apologize for the long delay between this and my last post.

See the young woman holding the calico kitten? This is Soundarya Ravichandran, who long-time readers first met back in July of last year. Sandy is the whole reason that I came with Tryskuit to India this trip. I came to photograph her wedding. You know that fellow, Bill Hess, who lives in the parallel universe to mine?

He has been so busy trying to blog her wedding that I, Grahamn Kracker, have had no time to devote to this blog.

But I am blogging now. Sandy just retrieved the kitten from a little alcove above her.

Sandy hands the kitten to Tryskuit, but kisses it before she lets it go.

Tryskuit takes the kitten.

Tryskuit snuggles the kitten.

Sandy turns back to the alcove to get the orange and white kitten. The mother is worried.

Sandy with the orange and white kitten.

Sandy with both kittens.

Sandy is ecstactic! Once the business surrounding her upcoming wedding slows down, she decides that she will adopt the calico.

The mother cat is still worried.

Sandy reaches up to the mother cat.

She snuggles the entire family.

Sandy poses with the calico, who she wants to adopt.

For now, the kittens and their mother must go back to the alcove. Sandy kisses the calico good-bye.

Sandy with mom and calico.

Tryskuit hands the orange and white cat to Sandy so that she can place it back in the alcove.

Sandy takes the orange and white.

She places it back in the alcove.

The next day, I peek into the alcove and this is what I see. I am struck by the love of the mother and the preciousness of life - and by the danger, by the indifference of nature towards the well-being of any individual life; by the desire of the mother to protect her babies in the face of such a world, by the desire of the babies to live, to grow and gain experience.

This story will continue.

The Momma Cat and her two little kittens

2009-05-27T18:28:00.007-08:00

First, I apologize for leaving this story hanging for so long. During my two weeks in India, I had almost no time for blogging. In fact, Tryskuit and I spent very little time in Bangalore, as our hosts, Murthy and Vasanthi, took us traveling over a large section of Southern India.

Anyway, in the post I made way back when, I showed a picture of the Momma cat that we met shortly after we arrived at Murthy and Vasanthi's.

Tryskuit spotted the cat first, when she stepped out onto the second floor veranda. She called to me and I came running, peeked down, and this is what I saw. I clicked this image.

The sound of the click caused the cat to look up at me. I did not know if I had scared her.

She moved on, and I clicked her again as she passed by a motorcycle.

Then she went into some bushes.

A short time later, Buddy, the nephew of Murthy and Vasanthi, showed me her two kittens, up in a protected area in the eves of the house.

Frightened by my appearance, the calico hissed. I did not blame her for being frightened. Down below, there are street dogs. Up above, birds of prey. I stepped away, to let them be.

The Momma cat hears the meows of her babies and meows back.

This story will continue.

As soon as we settled down in Bangalore, India, a cat appeared - more on this to come

2009-05-08T18:20:00.006-08:00

It has been so long since I have posted a cat pic here! I did not see a single cat during my most recent wanderings in the Arctic. Afterward, I did spend a few days at home and I did take several Kracker cat pictures, but I never got the chance to post them.

Now I am in Bangalore, Karnataka, India, with Tryskuit and no sooner had we arrived when this mother cat appeared.

Mother cat?

That means there must be kittens, right?

Come back and find out.

Traveling - no cats met yet this trip

2009-04-26T18:34:00.003-08:00

First, I apologize for the long delay with neither post nor explanation. I am traveling. I had hoped that I might have met and photographed a cat or two or three or maybe 100 by now, but I have not even seen a single cat.

I will not be home until the end of the week, but I will keep my eyes and ears open and if I meet and photograph a cat, I will make a post.

Do you think Wry will remember Royce in future decades?

2009-04-20T00:11:00.000-08:00

This evening, as the clock neared 9:00 PM, I looked out the window and this is what I saw. So I went out there.

Wry is very young and Royce is growing old. It is inevitable that he will leave us while Wry is still in his formative years. Do you think Wry will remember Royce?

He will have many pictures to remind him, or to tell him of Royce, if the memories are simply not there. I hope he remembers him, though. Royce has been a most special cat to Wry. They have a unique relationship, this young toddler and this old cat.

First, the happy reunion, then the Easter egg hunt

2009-04-13T00:14:00.001-08:00

Very early this morning, Easter Sunday, at about 1:00 AM, Wry came home with his parents after spending more than a week in Arizona and New Mexico. Sunflower was over joyed to see him... but... someone else was eagerly waiting to greet him...

Royce, of course. Oh, what a happy reunion - Kalib and Royce.

The two then went into the bedroom of Toast Ed and Prickly Pear Blossom, where Wry was reunited with Muzzy as well.

Royce, Wry, Muzzy and so on.

Then, after everybody got some sleep, it was time to hunt Easter eggs. Royce led the way.

He kept leading even as Wry plucked eggs off the ground.

Wry and Royce, hunting eggs.

Muzzy stole and ate at least half-a-dozen of them. (If you would like to see the full Easter egg hunt, including images that have no cats, please check out the blog in the parallel universe.)

Charlie came out with Tryskuit, and played a lullaby for Royce, who then drifted off into peaceful sleep.
Juniper came out with Nabysko, but she was not happy.

She was pretty, though, and mighty cute.

Royce and Chicago resumed their nap.

It's late, I am tired, I don't think I will bother to title this

2009-04-08T23:00:00.000-08:00

Wry has gone off to New Mexico and Arizona with his parents for a short visit. Before he left, he reached out and touched Royce.

Then, in the evening, as I was preparing the photo of Wry and Royce for this blog, Jim hopped atop my monitor and settled down. The monitor is only about and inch-and-a-half wide.

As Jim rested there, Pistol stepped out from behind the monitor. I was surprised, because I did not even know he was in the office.

These two just napped away.

I could not handle this carnival of cats, so I turned it over to Royce and he got the job done. Without even trying. Royce is a genius.

2009-04-06T00:13:00.010-08:00

First, a most serious matter: Ivy, over at ChezRanger, has been suffering some health issues. To make things worse, her beloved humans are in part blaming themselves, yet they did their very best to ease Ivy’s suffering and to make her comfortable. Let us all hope that Dear Ivy picks up soon.

For the religious among you, you might say a prayer as well. I am not religious, but I have said a prayer, anyway.

Who knows?

http://strangeranger.typepad.com/strangeranger/2009/04/a-tough-week.html

It has always been my understanding that being “full of crap” would make one’s eyes brown – and not the kind of handsome brown of my eyes, but a most unpleasant hue of brown. Yet, in Nardo’s case, it seems to cause his eyes to glow, rather devilishly, I’d say.

http://isfullofcrap.com/2009/04/upgrade_2.html

Friday has passed, of course, but it was a delightful day at Samantha and Mr. Tigger’s. Their Mom took a beautiful picture of them living in peace, and they made some new friends. New friends are always good, especially when those friends are cats.

http://jcfloresinc.blogspot.com/2009/04/finally-furiends-friday-with-samantha.html

I must agree: Kate is a pretty girl. A most pretty girl. I am ready to send her a plane ticket to Anchorage, so that I can drive to town, pick her up and bring her back to Wasilla. It would be nice to have such a pretty girl hang out with us here in Wasilla for awhile.

And that, my friends, is a very deep thought.

http://nodeepthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/04/weekend-cat-blogging-kate.html

Some humans put out a plank for the cat to walk, but the cat has seen all the pirate movies. The cat does not walk the plank. The cat is smart.

http://catymology.blogspot.com/2009/04/walking-plank.html

Teacher who abuses cats is charged with a felony. There is no humor in this. None.

http://www.detentionslip.org/2009/03/teacher-charged-with-abusing-cats.html

Got a cat video that you want to upload somewhere, besides YouTube?

http://www.videojug.com/tag/cats

I have been slammed! Stereotyped! And it hurts so bad! I don’t deserve to be slammed like this. I am very considerate of cats. I recognize and celebrate their innate superiority. I will sacrifice my sleep at night, just to ensure the comfort of a cat. There is almost nothing I would not do for a cat, and yet I have been slammed, just because I am male.

And all you males out there, you have been slammed, too!

Oh, wait. Maybe I am overreacting here. It is “The Male” who Cheysuli speaks out against. I interpreted “The Male” to mean all males. But maybe it just means “the male” in her life. And if indeed he could be so crass as to throw socks and underwear into her sleeping space, and play with the feather toy only because The Female orders him too, then I would say Cheysuli’s complaint is justified.

Damn Male, anyway!

Tough female. The male obeys.

http://www.chey.mysiamese.com/?p=2252

This is direct competition. The good folks and felines over at CatSynth proudly announce that they are hosting the 200th Edition of Weekend Cat Blogging, which is kind of like Carnival of Cats. I suppose some folks got time for both. Me, I have no time for anything. I do not even have time to be doing this, but here I am, doing it, because I love cats.

http://www.ptank.com/blog/2009/04/weekend-cat-blogging-200/

An Infidel likes to beg, and gets angry when begs are not heeded. In protest, an Infidel goes on strike. Who will dare to cross the picket line?

http://iinfidel.com/2009/04/03/finally-friday-11/

A cat critiques the dancing skills of her pet human and finds them wanting. The cat is tired of having her tail stepped on, that’s why. As you can see in the address, the dance is called, “Zeu Sex Cuse.” Sounds pretty interesting, but I’m not certain that you want your youngsters to visit this site.

Oh, what the heck. They probably roam around the internet, anyway. You might as well let them go watch the dance.

http://zeusexcuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/dancing-with-poker-stars.html

The mind of Mog contemplates the litter box.

http://mindofmog.net/archives/2009/03/30/litter-boxes/

The mind of Mog sees a tummy and contemplates temptation, then gives in to it.

http://mindofmog.net/archives/2009/03/31/tummy-tuesday-132/

Intermission: Royce has been on this blog quite a bit, lately, as an old man cat watching out for little Wry. It is important that all who come here understand that Royce was once not only a young cat, but even a kitten. So I dug up some pictures from his kitten hood, youth and young adulthood.

I have not yet told the story of how Royce came to be part of this family, but I will. I reserve the right to redeploy some of these same images at that time.

If a cat chases a bird in the wind, might not that cat get blown off the ground and wind up flying with the bird? And what if the bird turns out to be an eagle? Some birds are, you know.

http://imeowza.com/2009/04/03/finally-friday-12/

To keep it short, a poet twitters.

http://www.sbpoet.com/2009/04/friday-cat-blogging.html

Poet does another short, boxes it up.

http://www.sbpoet.com/2009/04/take-out-your-pen-and-paper-.html

Intermission # 2: That is not a cloud, my friends, but smoke. Smoke from a huge forest fire that destroyed many homes and buildings. Royce and Little Guy (how many tears did I shed for Little Guy? My heart, my soul, my Little Guy! Even now, eight years later, my eyes water, just from looking at this picture. He was born into my open hands, you know. That does something to a man.) are not concerned.

If I heard a woman call out, “hey Fela!” I would think she was calling to a guy - maybe me. No. Fela is a girl. Stuck in a tree, way down in what we up here consider to be the rather small state of Texas. Maybe she wanted to get away from the spider.

http://myras.blogspot.com/2008/09/there-goes-fela.html

Kosmo wants a treat. Vet says, “no.” Yet, everybody needs a treat now and then.

http://irishcoda.blogspot.com/2009/04/some-treats-please.html

She might be growing old, but Miss Chloe is The Grand Dame of Culture and Civility. At 16, she is impeccably refined and dignified. She loves to attend the opera, where, during a robust rendition of the aria, "Figaro," she once ralfed up a hairball. When you are a cat, ralfing up a hairball is a most civilized and cultured thing to do.

All the other cats at the opera pranced over to sniff it.

http://melange1.blogspot.com/2009/03/miss-chloe-grande-dame-of-culture-and.html

Warning! Do not visit this site! Please! For your own health, do not visit this site!

There are cute kittens here that will cause your heart to melt. How will you function, after your heart has melted?

http://graceandkittens.blogspot.com/2009/04/friday-flashbacks.html

There is nothing quite so nice as having toasty toes with blueberries. Once again, down in that small state of Texas.

http://txoasis.blogspot.com/2009/04/furbaby-friday-toasty-toes.html

I almost forgot: here is the home website for Carnival of the Cats, should anyone wish to host or learn more: http://carnival.catblogosphere.com

I feel so bad - prepared this and I thought that I had pasted it in, but Elisson just let me know that I didn't. Sorry, Ellison - and Rahel, too. Here is the sement that I inadvertently left out:

I need this cat here, with me, in Alaska. My feet sometimes get cold, you see. This cat would keep them warm. She could be as sarcastic as she wanted to be. It wouldn’t bother me, as long as she kept my feet warm.

http://elisson1.blogspot.com/2009/04/feline-foot-warmer.html

Rahel, I tried and tried, but I could not get your site to load. It did strange things, but it did not load. I was never able to read it.

Carnival of Cats: I have prepared all the text...

2009-04-05T23:22:00.002-08:00

...but it is very late. I am very tired and still have other tasks to perform before I go to bed.

So I will post it tomorrow, Monday.

I promise, I promise, I promise!

And I apologize for being tardy!

To anyone who arrives for the Carnival of Cats before I post it

2009-04-05T17:28:00.002-08:00

I am behind, but I am working on it.

I will be slow, because earlier one daughter came out from Anchorage to visit. As soon as she left, the other daughter arrived.

She is still here.

So I will be slow, but it will go up tonight.

Now we lay our boy down to sleep, and turn him over to our cat to keep

2009-04-02T00:14:00.002-08:00

How Royce must love this little boy! The boy we call Wry. How patient Royce is with Wry. Look! Wry is charging toward Royce and Chicago! What can anyone expect the cats to do, but to flee?

Chicago does flee. But Royce stays put. Royce knows what is coming. Royce waits for the toddler to crash down upon him.

Wry and Royce. Wry can be so rough with Royce. Royce is so gentle with Wry.

I often find Royce watching out for Wry, observing him. Remember Wry's first birthday party? Royce was there, to watch him wallow in cake. Remember when Wry took his first steps? Royce was there, to watch and encourage.

Wry gets up. Royce gets up.

Here they are, together again, playing on the floor.

It looks as though Royce whispers in Wry's ear! But a cat can't whisper! What would Royce whisper if he could?

Bend down close and listen... Royce does not whisper, he purrs.

And then, when little Wry goes to bed, Royce is there to say a prayer for him. No! No! No! This is absurd! Cat's don't pray.

Or do they?

How would a human know?

And if a cat prays, what kind of God does it pray to?

A furry God?

A God with a twitchy tail?

A God who purrs?

Surely, if Royce does pray, this is how it translates:

"Dear God - This little kid is rough. He tumbles right down on top of me, rolls right over me. God, this little tyke has been known to pull out tufts of my fur, and stick them in his mouth. But, hell, God! I love him. Watch over him, and keep him safe."

And all this Royce will say with just one single word, "Meow."

"Meow" is one mighty powerful and flexible word.

Carnival of the Cats: I don't know what got into me, because I sure don't have the time or energy, but a few months back, I volunteered to host "Carnival of the Cats" for next week. I must be an April fool. But I am committed and I will do it.

Anyone who wants to submit anything, just send it here:

submissions@carnivalofthecats.com

Jim is always there

2009-03-31T17:43:00.004-08:00

Remember what I told you about Jim? How he is always there for me? How, whenever I am home, he hangs with me throughout the day? How he will be beside me in one room and I will move to another and there he is, still beside me?

It does not matter what room, he is there.

Even when I shower, he walks around on the edge of the tub.

He gets a little wet, sometimes, just like he does when he accidently falls into a fish tank.

And so it was that when I came home with my right wrist and thumb in this brace, he was right there, with me.

That's my buddy, Jim.

Jim Slim Many Toes, because there are a whole lot of toes on that paw that he grooms.

Nobody has ever been able to count them all.

He has a bunch of toes on the other front paw, too, but not quite so many.

Jim Slim Many Toes.

I leave Jim behind in the front room and go to the back door to get my shoes. Jim appears, right there beside me.

I leave Jim behind in the living room, and go to the front room. There's Jim! In the front room! He finds a cozy spot from which to observe me.

He does not really leave me here; he stays close by, but he wants to know what this duo is up to.

Jim has been curious about the activities of Wry and he had to check, but now he is coming back to me.

I sit down to watch TV. Jim appears in front of me. We are Gone With the Wind.

Chicago climbs onto my lap. Jim doesn't like it. He waits quietly nearby for Chicago to move on.

I read the paper. Jim is there.

I go to check out Wry and his stacking cans. Jim comes with me.

My buddy, Jim.

Jim Slim Many Toes.

Phantom - A victim of the Exxon Valdez oil spill; Cookie, who followed her onto the Belen C

2009-03-26T20:36:00.001-08:00

It has been awhile since I have posted a "Cats Met Along the Way" story here, even though I have so many waiting.

This week marked the 20th anniversay of the spill of the Exxon Valdez in Prince William Sound. I was in the Arctic when that happened, preparing to go out on the sea ice with Eskimo whale hunters.

Even so, I wept when I heard the news.

What follows is the story of two cats, both of Cordova, Alaska, right in the heart of Prince William Sound: Phantom, who helped with the cleanup and paid the ultimate price. Cookie, who could not replace Phantom, but did step in to take over Phantom's duties on the fishing boat, the Belen C, and so made a place of her own.

Phantom was a good, seafaring cat with a good sea gut and good sea legs, but the Siamese suffered her mishaps. Once, as her people, Joe and Belen Cook, napped, Phantom slipped through an open porthole and plunged into the water. Awakened by the splash, Joe leaped up and grabbed his buoy hook, but before he could rescue her, Phantom swam to the other side and pulled herself back on board. Another time, a leaf came blowing by and Phantom leapt for it, but when she came down she discovered that there was no boat, but only sea, beneath her. This time, Joe fished her out with the hook.

After the March 24, 1989, oil spill of the Exxon Valdez, the Cooks set out in their boat to work on the cleanup. Often, they would pick workers up from the beach for transport elsewhere. The Cooks lined the boat with oil absorbent materials, required passengers to remove oily gear before boarding and did all they could to keep it clean. Adoring spill workers took Phantom upon their laps, stroked her, talked to her and were delighted when she talked back.

After the Cooks returned home to Cordova, Phantom fell suddenly ill during the day and, come night, died. The vet surmised that, somehow, the 13-year old cat had been poisoned by the spilled oil she had helped to clean.

In time, the Cooks set out in search of another Siamese female. After a visit to Belen’s mother in her Yaqui homeland of Mexico, they searched the Arizona classifieds and located a breeder in Cave Creek, a tiny enclave out in the wild desert.

The breeder informed the Cooks that she had only male kittens available and, before she would let one go, insisted upon giving the Cooks an intense, grilling, in-person interview to determine their worthiness. After the interview, the breeder was so pleased that she confessed to actually having two female kittens and would give the Cook’s first choice.

One sister was outgoing and friendly, lovable as can be. The other was shy and reclusive. Intent that it would have a good a home, Belen chose the later.

“Cookie” turned out to be a very gregarious, chatty cat, and a good sea cat, too – never has she taken a plunge off the boat.

Cookie gets what Cookie wants. Belen’s grandmother was up north doing laundry once, and Cookie harassed her mercilessly until she finally heated some clothes in the dryer and fashioned them into a nice, warm bed for the cat to lie upon.

Cookie loves to assist Joe when he works on his computer, but sometimes, Joe gets lazy and stops. Cookie then stands by the computer and meows until Joe gets back to work. Whenever jumbo shrimp leaves the fridge, Cookie dances and meows until she gets her 15 pieces.

I took these pictures of Cookie in August of 2002. I write of her in the present tense, but Cookie has gone now, to wherever it is that Phantom drifts.

Juniper is suspicious of the strange cat in the mirror

2009-03-23T21:01:00.000-08:00

Nabysko called and said she would meet me at Kaladi Brothers in Wasilla. So I drove over and discovered that Juniper was with her.

This made me very happy.

We went inside and drank our coffee. We visited about many things, including Fox News. Nabykso was exasperated with Fox News.

When we came back out, we saw that Juniper was exasperated with us.

Nabysko then brought Juniper to the house.

Wry took a bath. After he was clean and dry, Juniper got into the tub. I wonder what she would have done, had we turned the water on?

Wry was pleased to have Juniper in the house.

I see Juniper in the mirror.

Juniper sees Juniper in the mirror. She does not know what to think.

Martigny in the window

2009-03-21T22:31:00.001-08:00

Martigny in the window, as we drive off to Anchorage. Friends, I am overwhelmed and my cat blog falters, but I will yet get back on top of it.

It's a long workday (but I love it). Jim does his part to make it successful

2009-03-16T11:56:00.004-08:00

I came into the office at about 10:00 AM yesterday, to begin my workday. As always, Jim came with me, eager to help. I have an array of harddrives set up behind my monitor. Jim climbed atop them, to keep them warm.

This is Alaska, you know.

I don't know how Alaskans without cats in the workplace keep their harddrives warm.

All that hard work dries a cat out. Jimmy leaves the harddrives and goes to the oscar tank to get a drink. Jimmy basically will not drink out of anything but a fish tank, unless no fish tank is available.

The last of the two oscars died recently, after being with Jim and me for seven years or so.

Now, I must figure out what kind of fish to replace it with.

I have already bought ceramic pigs to create a new fish tank decor.

Then Jimmy goes to the window to see what's happening outside. Jimmy can't drink out of this tank, because there is a lid on it.

There was a lid on the oscar tank, too.

Jimmy broke it.

He did not want to die of thirst.

A bit later, Jim comes and sits down on the keyboard. How can a person even work at a computer, if a cat doesn't sometimes come and sit down on the keyboard?

Jim decides to sit on my lap. I am skilled at working with a cat on my lap. I have a great deal of practice.

It can be a little challenging to see the screen, however. Soon, though, he will get down and I will have a clear view of the screen.

Later, he comes back. He digs his claws into my sweatshirt and pulls himself up to my chest and shoulder. He forces me to take a break.

In this way, Jimmy keeps me sane. Or at least from going more insane than I already am.

Later, he comes back and does it again.

Jim does not want me to go insane.

He does not know what insane is.

He is insane.

Maybe that's why we love each other so much.

We are both insane.

Then Jimmy steps onto my keyboard. Please take note of the photo onscreen. Something is about to happen.

Jimmy hits a certain key and the photo that I was working on disappears! Another one of the same subject takes its place!

Originally, I had considered printing this one, instead of the first.

Now the first has disappeared. I know I can find it again, or at worst, dig up a backup copy, but I don't want to.

I think maybe Jimmy has just told me that I should print this picture instead.

But then I go back and find the other one, and print it.

Jimmy is smart, all right, but I can't let him become my picture editor.

The day wears on, the sun drops beneath the horizon, leaving only the afterglow to creep into the office.

Jimmy does not falter, but stays right here with me.

I have to print this picture several times, because ink splotches keep appearing on it. I clean the heads, print again, clean the heads, print again, and still the ink splotches appear.

Finally, I pull out a big pad of ink soaked lint. It looks like it might be made of cat hairs. The printing proceeds just fine, after that.

It grows later and later. Jimmy hangs in there with me.

Hey! This is not Jim! This is Pistol! My little Pistol-Yero. Right after we got up in the morning, he went back to bed for a nap. He napped all day.

But now he comes out to help with the night shift.

Pistol does his part.

I finally leave the office at a few minutes before 4:00 AM.

Both cats leave with me.

Only Pistol follows me into the bedroom.

A few minutes after I settle down in bed, I hear Jimmy at the door. I get up to let him in. He does not come in, but Pistol goes out.

I go back to bed. About 15 minutes later, I hear Pistol at the door. He wants back in. I let him in. He snuggles up by my head and purrs.

Fifteen minutes after that, I hear Jimmy at the door again. He wants in, badly. I get up and let him in. Margie sleeps through it.

Then the two cats pile on and we stay put, sleeping and waking, until 9:30.

And now a new day has begun.

I am in my office.

Cats are with me.

I anticipate a productive day.

Wry, Royce and Muzzy - buddies three; tired me

2009-03-14T01:59:00.000-08:00

Wry examines a mitten, as Royce patiently waits for whatever will happen next.

Wry, Royce, Muzzy and the mitten.

Royce, Wry and Muzzy. If it wasn't so late, I would tell you the story behind this mitten and the drama that you witness right here.

But it is late and I am exhausted. Too exhausted to put such a story together.

I have so many stories to tell here. How will I ever tell them, if I always come to this blog exhausted?

And how long has it been, since I have felt anything but exhaustion?

The sun has come back to Alaska. You would think this exhaustion would leave me now.

Of course, last night I went to bed at 6:00 AM, spent half of my time there awake and then got up at 10:00 AM.

Now it is 2:00 AM and I have a huge, huge, huge workday to put in tomorrow.

Maybe it is not just the sun.

Deborah by Default is now Juniper. What will Tryskuit name her first daughter?

2009-03-09T00:24:00.000-08:00

I arrived home from the Iditarod about 5:00 PM and found both of my daughters here, along with Juniper. Yes, Deborah by Default is defaulted no more. She is Juniper.

The cat and the daughters wanted to go out for coffee. For Nabysko, that usually means Kaladi Brothers, but they do not allow cats inside Kaladi Brothers and she did not want to leave her cherished buddy in the car, so we decided to go to a Kiosk.

We were headed to Mocha Moose, also known as "Palin Fever," but the daughters decided that we should try a kiosk that we had never been to before.

So I head toward one and they said, "not that one," because it was too close to the house.

"You need to broaden your horizons, Dad," Tryskuit admonished.

So I picked one out that I had never been to that was many miles away but when we got there, it was closed, too.

From there, we drove past a few that we were already familiar with and then the daughters suggested that we head down Knik Road. We did. The first kiosk that we came upon was closed. Tryskuit was certain the next would be open. It took was closed.

She then spoke of a kiosk on a certain corner - she said that was the original kiosk, the kiosk of all kiosks and it would be open because it is always open.

So I drove there. There was a sign on the door... "We closed at 4:00 PM today. Sorry for the inconvenience," or something close to that.

Well, we tried at least five more and they were all closed, so we wound up at Mocha Moose, anyway.

As you can see, Juniper had the cash, so she bought.

She was also the source of a fair amount of contention. Nabysko's boyfriend and co-caretaker of Juniper originally did not like the name. After suffering some confusion and consternation, the name "Jubilee" materialized from somewhere and so that is what she was going to be named.

Then Bryce decided that he like the name, "Juniper," after all.

So the cat is now "Juniper."

However, Tryskuit now claims that she had planned all along to name her first daughter "Juniper." "I can't name my daughter Juniper if your cat is already Juniper!" she scolded. "And its your fault, Dad, for putting the story in your blog. I liked "Jubilee."

"Yeah? Well, Prickly Pear Blossom is always calling Kalib 'Muzzy,' and it works out okay."

And that's how life is around here.

Before the trio left, Juniper got to see an adolescent moose run across the back yard. "That's her first moose," Nabysko said proudly.

Of course, we don't really know that. No telling what wonders Juniper saw in the ten months of her life that transpired before she came into ours.

Martigny and Royce as they appeared today

2009-03-07T00:12:00.000-09:00

I have no stories to tell tonight. This is not true - I do. I have so many stories. I am just too tired to tell them. Tired is not the word.

Exhausted.

So here are two pictures from today, unaccompanied by stories, save for those you might invent in your own.

I will not even identify the cats. If you are new and don't know them, then you can find them in the sidebar.

I don't have any time for this blogging. Why do I do it?

I'm not going to stop, I'm going to keep doing it. But why?

Royce gives Wry a cushion as he takes his first steps

2009-03-05T01:56:00.001-09:00

Baby Wry took his first step last night! It happened in the kitchen. I did not have my camera. I ran to get it. As I came back with it, he and his Mom had moved to the living room, where he had just taken his second step.

Now he was ready to take a third, and I had my camera ready. Prickly Pear Blossom held out her hands, beckoning her son to come to her.

But Baby... no, no, no... but Toddler Wry turned toward Royce. He walked right to Royce...

And then he dived, right into Royce's fur!

Royce watched with pride as Toddler Wry walked wobbly, but confidently away.

There is, of course, more to this story, as was documented on that blog in the parallel universe.

The damn mouse could fly, but DBD knows how to jump

2009-03-03T21:50:00.001-09:00

I had not seen Deborah By Default since the day Nabysko and Tryskuit picked her up in Palmer after she had been spayed, so I dropped in to see her at Nabysko's apartment in Anchorage. She looked good... real good.

She still awaited a permanent name. The name, "Juniper" had come to Nabysko, but her boyfriend Bryce did not like it, and so vetoed it.

I liked it, but, oh well.
As she was looking good, DBD spotted something... something of great interest.... what could it be...?
Why, it was a mouse! A flying mouse!

"Is it a bird?"

"No!"

"Is it a plane?"

" No! "

"Oh my gosh its MIghty Mouse!"

DBD leaped up onto the sofa, determined to get that mouse.

She did not care how mighty it was.

The mouse got away. DBD studied it, to determine strategy for her next attack.

DBD plays it cool. She watches the mouse fly this way...

She watches the mouse fly that way. She pretends to hardly care... all to lull the mouse into a false sense of security.

But damn, if you are a cat and there is a flying mouse about, it is hard to long pretend that you don't care.

DBD leaps for the mouse, but misses.

DBD leaps again. She gets in a good swat, but does not catch that mouse.

Whoa! DBD swats that mouse again - knocks it clean up to the ceiling.

Finally, DBD catches the mouse. She bites the back of its neck to finish it off. Then she carries it to the foot of the couch, where she dozes off with the mouse at the tip of her nose.

I should not that it was boyfriend Bryce who bought the mouse toy, not Tryskuit, as I erroneously reported, back when I first introduced DBD.

Nabysko and DBD. Now, Nabysko can hardly wait to come home from work. When she does, she finds DBD waiting in the window for her. Nabysko used to come back home to Wasilla just about every Sunday.

We have not seen her here since she adopted DBD. She just does not want to leave her. Bryce fears what might happen if she were to bring DBD out here and she was confronted by Muzzy.

Of course, the truth is, she would be absolutely safe with Muzzy. She might get a little spooked when she saw his massive mass, but she would be safe.

There would be contention with the other cats, of course. Except Royce. Royce would accept her.

It's not only tomorrow, but in 15 minutes it will be the day after tomorrow

2009-03-02T23:44:00.003-09:00

Yesterday, I stated that I would post the full story that the big DBD picture comes from tomorrow, and now tomorrow is just about over and I haven't done so.

And I am too tired to do it now. I got into a foolish, vain and pointless argument on a photography forum, that is why I ran out of time.

Tomorrow, I will refrain from engaging in any such argument and I will get the new Deborah by Default story up. Before I do, I will check with Nabysko and see if Deborah by Default is still DBD, or if the name that she will carry through life has revealed itself.

But let me say one thing right now about Deborah:

I love her. I look at her in the big picture posted here right now and I feel nothing but love - pure love.

So I do not feel too badly that this image will be the big picture for still another day.

Deborah by Dafault brings me back to action

2009-03-02T00:44:00.001-09:00

Friends! This has been one of the longest delays between posts that I have had since I started this blog, and the very longest when I have been home and not traveling somewhere. And what big picture was left hanging in the window all this time to be viewed again and again by all who dropped by?

A handsome cat?

A cute cat?

A mischievous cat?

No!

A dog butt!

Well, its time that the dog butt got replaced as the big picture, time that a cat moved back into the rightful spot.

Deborah by Default is just the cat to do it.

I visited her and Nabysko the other day, after I attended a workshop in Anchorage.

I have a series of images from that visit to post, but it is too late now.

Still, I want to move that dog butt along and replace it as the big picture with a cat.

So I will post the pictures tomorrow, and will tell you the story, but at least that dog butt is no longer the big picture. Deborah by Default is.

The hand, by the way, is mine.

Jack Russell's butt

2009-02-24T01:24:00.000-09:00

I know, this is not a cat. It's a dog, a Jack Russell dog. I could not get a cat post prepared tonight, and I do not wish to go another day without a post, so I put this butt in instead.

The cats will be back promptly.

And if you want to see more of the Jack Russells, pups included, plus a St. Bernard pup, they are on the blog from the parallel universe.

We were all very lazy today

2009-02-21T23:48:00.001-09:00

I was very lazy today. Did a lot of nothing. Sat around for awhile, pocket camera nearby. Jim sat down by me, after he spent the night sleeping atop me. He does both quite often. But wait... who is that blurry orange fellow on the floor?

It looks kind of like...

...Royce... Royce is who it looks like. But can I be certain? I had better zoom in a little closer...

YES! YES! IT IS ROYCE! I was right, all along.

And there, sitting on the floor, just feet from Royce... why, it's Pistol-Yero! My leetel peestol-yero!

Jimmy has moved to the coffee table and there is a classic movie on TV. Do you recognize the movie? Can you guess?

How about now?

This ought to erase all doubt. It's Gone With the Wind, of course. I was too lazy to watch but a few minutes of it. Then I had to go buy a burrito from Taco Bell. Tryskuit will be very upset with me when she reads this, but it was a very healthy burrito.

Once Pistol saw that Jim had left the arm of the couch, he came and sat down beside me.

Pistol Yero - my little Pistol-Yero!

Royce and Chicago.

Jim proves to be quite mobile; soon he will be off his rocker. But where's Martigny? I assure you, she is not far away, even though I failed to get a picture of her today. Muzzy is hiding out in the bedroom of Toast Ed, Prickly Pear Blossom and toddler Wry.

The other four Kracker cats are all in Anchorage, where they live. Maybe one or more will come and visit tomorrow. We will see. I hope one or more does, whatever chaos might result. I always like to see the Anchorage Kracker cats.

The newest Kracker Cat: Nabysko adopts the tabby, "Deborah by Default," whose real name we do not yet know

2009-02-19T19:02:00.003-09:00

Had everything happened on schedule for "Deborah by Default," I would have missed this moment, as it would have happened one day earlier, when I was still in Barrow. That was when I had originally agreed to meet Nabysko at the vet's office in Palmer when she went to pick her up the new Kracker cat..

But the airport in Barrow was shut down after a big blizzard struck the Arctic Slope and raged for a days, so I stayed put. For reasons that are not clear to me, "Deborah by Default's" spay surgery time had changed as well and so she was still at the vet office, in recovery, when I arrived home.

I drove to Palmer and found Nabysko waiting in the vet's office, along with Tryskuit, who had driven her out from Anchorage. She was anxious to see her new cat.

"Deborah by Default" emerges from the recovery room, quite recovered, in the arms of Jill, who then hands her to a thrilled Nabysko. She has been waiting for this moment ever since she moved out into the world on her own... how many years ago?

Nabysko hugs "Deborah by Default" as Tryskuit reaches in to give her a stroke.

Jill explains the required medical followup as Nabysko holds her new, ten-month old friend. As I wrote before, Nabysko had gone to the Mat-Su animal shelter planning to adopt a kitten, but as she walked past the cage that held "Deborah by Default," the tabby reached out and put a paw on her arm.

Just a paw, no claw. So Nabysko asked to hold her. Once in her arms, the tabby purred; it climbed up to her shoulders and lightly stepped from one to the other. At no time did it dig in with a claw. The tabby was gentle, and mellow; Nabysko knew they were right for each other.

Jill continues to explain. I am not certain that Nabysko is listening, so joyous is she to be reunited with the cat that she is about to take home for the first time.

Important: Please take note of the dog pictured on the calendar that hangs on the wall...

Nabysko and "Deborah by Default."

Nabysko brings "Deborah by Default" out to show to her mother. Sunflower is still burdened by her cast and brace and this is the first time that she has been out of the house since February 2 - Tryskuit's birthday. Banged-up and in pain though she is, Sunflower was not about to miss this special moment.

Tryskuit gives "Deborah by Default" a kiss.

I give "Deborah by Default" an affectionate pet.

Remember the dog on the calendar? The one that I told you to take note of? Look through the window of the car parked behind the new cat! It's the very dog! How does such a thing happen?

This dog is jealous; jealous that it cannot be a cat - jealous that Nabysko cradles a cat that Tryskuit pets.

The dog wants to be cradled. The dog wants to be petted. But no one cradles it. No one pets it. The dog wants to be a cat. But the dog is a dog. The dog can never be a cat. Unless reincarnation is real. If so, then perhaps this dog will yet meow.

Nabysko carries "Deborah by Default" through the headlights of our car to Tryskuit's, so that they can drive back to Anchorage. About three hours later, my phone will ring. It will be Nabysko. She will report the drive home to have been an excellent one.

At first, "Deborah by Default" wanted to explore a bit, to climb upon the driver's lap and cause her to crash, but Nabysko kept her away from Tryskuit (had they told me they did not have a travel kennel for her, I would have brought one).

Then the kitty settled down on the lap of her new lady, Nabysko. She gave her nudge after nudge; she purred, she was happy and sweat.

Once home, "Deborah by Default" vigorously attacked the new mouse-dangling-from-stick toy that Tryskuit had given her as a kitty-shower gift. Tryskuit quickly grew worried that this was too much exertion for a cat that had just been spayed, so they took that toy away and opened up a box filled with about 30 fake mice.

"Deborah by Default" was pleased. She dug in. Not a single mouse survived.

And what about Nabysko's boyfriend Bryce, the one who, as we saw in this old post, is savagely allergic to cats?

No bad reaction, so far. He loves "Deborah by Default" and has been caressing and holding her.

As for "Deborah by Default," no one knows her real name yet. Once she reveals it, Nabysko says, the default will be overwritten by the real name. While no one knows what that name will be, everyone is pretty sure it won't be, "Deborah by Default."

I am struck by the similarities between this post and another that details a day that happened 17 years ago. If you have time, please check it out and see for yourself.

Ludicrous error - must be corrected

2009-02-18T16:41:00.002-09:00

Less than two hours before my Alaska Airlines flight was scheduled to depart Barrow for Anchorage, I got a call inviting me back to the home of Jumper and Watson for dinner. I headed over and found Casey there as well. She stood on the floor, looking at Jumper, who looked back at her.

I had been greatly worried, as I feared that I had misspelled Casey's name in my last post; that her name was not Casey but rather the letters "K" and "C". So I asked her. Sure enough, she answered, the proper spelling was KC, or perhaps K.C.

Then she told me that she did not want to be called KC at all, but preferred to go by another name, "Regina."

Okay, I agreed, I would refer to her in this blog not as KC but as Regina.

"Regina ludus," she added. "Ludus with a small 'L".

"Ludus?" another male guest who happens to celebrate his wedding anniversary on the same day as Sunflower and I, February 14, a day that this year found us both apart from our spouses, piped in. "That's ludicrous."

Regina ludus agreed. "ludus is the root for ludicrous," she explained. "That's why I love the name so much."

Regina ludus caresses Jumper. I will not refer to her here as Casey, KC, K.C., or even Stacey. She is Regina ludus, the root of ludicrous, and Regina ludus is how I refer to her.

Jumper is Jumper. Jumper does not care how I spell his name here, and if I were to call him "Leaper" instead of "Jumper," it would not trouble him at all.

I could even write his name down as "Alphonso" and he would not object.

I suspect that Karla, the lady whom he owns, would, however.

She would probably think me ludicrous.

Watson came to my chair for a visit. And right now, as I type these words, there is a different black cat sprawled across my forearms. Jimmy. Jim Slim Many Toes, for I am back in Wasilla now.

Next up, even before this day ends: The newest Kracker cat - Nabysko and the tabby, Deborah by default.

Jumper of Barrow, revisited, sitting in the lap of a lady who I once photographed outdoors as she wore a bikini in -36 degree weather

2009-02-16T23:15:00.008-09:00

Unless a feline appears in front of me within just a few hours of when I arise tomorrow morning, this trip to Barrow will end without me meeting a new cat. Tonight, however, I did have dinner with my kitty pals, Jumper and Watson, who have been on this blog before.

Casey also came over for dinner. Quite some time ago, Casey had a little tanning salon that she operated in Barrow, in part so that all those Barrow people who liked to slip away to Hawaii for a mid-winter break could arrive there with the appearance of people accustomed to sunshine.

A national publication did a story on her and they wanted a picture, so I took it, just outside her salon on a -36 degree day during which the sun never did rise.

Here she is, with Jumper. I took a couple of pictures of Watson, too, but I only had my pocket camera with me and the light was not good.

Nabysko adopts a ten-month old tabby cat

2009-02-15T18:53:00.002-09:00

Last night, as I was busy photographing the Eskimo dances at the great celebration of Kivgiq, a message appeared on my cell phone from Nabysko. She has adopted a tabby cat. No name yet. She went to the shelter intending to get a kitten, but this ten month tabby reached out and put a paw on her.

I will photograph the tabby after I go home.

I respond to an urgent email

2009-02-09T12:55:00.001-09:00

Last night, I was sitting here at my computer, earnestly working away, when I heard the "ping" of an incoming email. I checked. The subject read, "right now cats". The sender was my own daughter, Tryskuit, who I knew happened to be sitting no more than 12 feet away from me, in the house, on the living room couch.

It sounded urgent, so I opened it to find the above picture.
As you can imagine, I rushed into the house with all diligent haste. And this is what I saw, less than one minute after Tyskuit took the first picture on her iPhone and emailed it to me.

Well, in just one hour, I must drive into Anchorage and catch a jet to Barrow, where the current, mid-day temperature is -43 and the windchill -68.

I am very sorry to have no choice but to leave Sunflower behind in her condition, but I have to go. I must leave my children to watch over her. During those moments when I am not worried, I expect it to be a fun trip.

I will be busy day and night, and I don't know if I will see a cat.

If I do, it will wind up here - time permitting.

If not, this blog will be on hold for awhile.