An Update on Our Family

Photo by myself of Dida, our dear calico.

Mark, Rupert and I are terribly sad to announce that we lost our cat Dida yesterday. Dida succumbed very quickly, after a long and valiant fight with kidney disease.

She had some other ailments too, but faced all these with the bravery and typical stiff upper lip cats have. Dida loved sunny windowsills and lots of attention. She was rescued from the streets of New York around Hell's Kitchen, after giving birth to a beautiful litter of kittens. She was a very sweet and affectionate cat, despite her shyness.

Our household is a bit shaken up right now, specifically the humans. Rupert has yet to figure out that he is the lone four-legged beast among us.

Do give your animal family members an extra hug. Take more photos of them than you think proper. Spoil them a lot.


Dida and Rupert shared a fondness for napping.

Related posts: Our Extended Family, Clever Cat (Not) and Tempting Fate.

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The Quality Mending Company, Soho

Photo by myself in Soho, around Crosby and Grand Streets.

A mysterious stairwell in Soho looks like it belongs in a movie. It turns out that Quality Mending provides items for use in set designs.

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We're hunkered up for the weekend, awaiting a huge snowfall. As of 10:30 pm, Brooklyn has about 3 inches on the ground. Much more is expected.

Just a note...I've been told that I'm not attentive enough toward our cat, Dida. (She's doing all right, coping with kidney and heart disease).



A coworker of mine always asks about the cat, since the dog automatically gets so much attention. So the other day, I tried taking photos of the cat while she was napping on the windowsill.

Lo and behold, after a few minutes, Rupert interrupted the photoshoot. Though he dislikes the camera, he was jealous of the attention.

They get along sort of. I'm too much of an idealist, wishing they could be best buddies. Alas, these two speak different languages and often misunderstand each other.



Related posts: Making an Entrance, in Midtown, Outside Mxyplyzyk, in the Village and The Walls have Ears.

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Holiday Greetings, from Times Square

Photo by myself in Times Square.

I braved Times Square the other night, where holiday images are dancing on the big screen. Standing at 42nd Street and Broadway, one is just bathed in light.

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Mark and I are caring for our dog Rupert, Thursday night. He was left unattended for a moment and in that moment, he scarfed down a big bowl of cat food. He's been extra-gassy as a result.

In the meantime, it's time again for another Rupert video.

Mark has been making these videos in his spare time, mapping Rupert's journey through puppyhood. He's now almost 5 months old and apparently does a lot of sleeping. In this episode, our cat makes a cameo appearance.



Related posts: Unleashed in Long Island, Radio City and Rupert, Day Two and Boston (Terrier) in New York.

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On Bowling and Critters

Photo by myself, from the lanes at Bowlmor, a bowling alley on University Place.

There are bowling alleys in the city, but you have to know where to find them. I went to one last week for a friend's birthday party, which was fun.

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Meanwhile, Mark and I have been homebodies with Rupert, the puppy we brought home last week.

Rupert and the cat have been getting along surprisingly well. There's been some hissing and some wary looks, but generally it's been fine. The two share a love for napping and not doing much. Sometimes they will sleep on the sofa, next to each other.

Rupert is lucky to have Mark as a devoted Dad. Already, Rupert understands the idea of wee wee pads, and the words 'no', 'sit', 'come', 'good boy' and his own name. There have been some accidents, of course - but much fewer than I'd expected.

All those episodes of The Dog Whisperer have paid off!



Here's Rupert's first quick video


Related posts: Boston (Terrier) in New York, Our Extended Family

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Radio City and Rupert, Day Two

Photo by myself of Radio City Music Hall, around 6th Avenue and 50th Street.

A photo taken a while ago of Radio City Music Hall. I liked the colors and curly-cue script.

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The last couple of days have been spent nesting with Mark and our new dog, Rupert. I hope to get out of the house and taking more photos soon!

Only the second day that Rupert has been with us, and already we're a family of couch potatoes - me, Mark, the cat and wee Rupert nicely ensconced on the sofa. At times the cat and Rupert sleep on neighboring cushions.

Not all dogs and cats can adjust so quickly to each other, but Rupert is a very, very mellow pup. He keeps his distance and behaves like a pickle in a jar.

I imagine it's only a matter of time before I find Dida cat and Rupert pup locked in an embrace.



Above, Rupert shamelessly asleep during one of his many long naps.

Related posts: Boston (Terrier) in New York, What the World Needs Right Now.

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Clever Cat (Not)

Photo by myself around Sixth Avenue and 32nd Street, I think.

I actually don't recall where I took this photo. There are many kiosks that sell papers, cigarettes, gum and snacks on the sidewalks and in subway stations.

I was drawn to this kiosk because it was particularly tiny. The owner knew I was taking a photo and hid behind the displays, to my frustration.

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Sorry for digressing from New York to my cat, but I cannot resist. I posted earlier about my cat Dida, who had a peeing problem.

For the longest time, Dida had trouble peeing inside the box. We had to move the litter box into the bathroom because she always missed. It didn't matter if the box were in the middle of the room or in the corner. There was always a puddle on the floor.

Mark was tempted to explain to the vet that Dida's 'pee hole' was located incorrectly. We did take her in to see if there was a physical problem, but I couldn't say such a thing without giggling.

It turned out there is nothing physically wrong, even though she's gone through two bouts of bladder stones. The peeing is a psychological issue.

Fortunately, Mark saved the day by changing the litter box. Ironically, the box for the cat that can't pee correctly is called a 'Clever Cat'. It's basically a very deep plastic container, so deep that there's no way Dida could pee out of it, no matter where her pee hole is.

After using the litter box a few days, we placed the lid on, which is solid but for a large hole. Theoretically, Dida jumps up and through the hole, does her business and hops out.

We've never seen this happen, though. The whole phenomenon is a little like the Loch Ness Monster. We're so happy there's no more mess in the morning and are considering setting up a hidden camera.

Related posts on Dida: Tempting Fate and Our Extended Family.

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Tempting Fate

Photo by myself on the subway platform during the rush hour commute.

Some people stand awfully close to the edge of the platform. The painted yellow line and tactile warning bumps guide passengers where to stand.

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This weekend, Mark and I went to Whiskers, an alternative pet store on Second Avenue and 9th Street in the East Village.

Good friends of ours had recommended the place to us last year. They have two cats, and after initiating a new diet, the cats have lost weight and their previously scaly skin is back to normal. Happily, too, they're not shedding as much.

Our friends had told us to talk to Phil. When I walked in and looked around, I spotted an older guy perched in the corner with his chin in his hand. We locked eyes and he waved me over. This was Phil Klein, the pet guru.

I was whisked into the world of homeopathic pet dieting. My way of feeding my poor cat, Dida, has been completely wrong. I walked away with vials of enzymes and vitamins for Dida's rehabilitation. (Last week, after what we thought was a pulled muscle, we took her into the vet. She was diagnosed with a heart condition and was given medication for a blood clot in her hind leg).

Phil advocates feeding your cat limited amounts of food several times a day, and fresh foods, if possible. Earlier this month, Phil was interviewed on NPR about his holistic approach. Phil gives advice to dog owners too. A friendly woman with a miniature dachshund was next in line for a consult.

Little does she know, Dida is now my science experiment. Already she's grumbling about the feeding schedule. Food is taken away just before we go to bed, so there is no snacking. At 4:30 in the mornings, I am awakened by her meowing and standing next to me, stamping her foot. Eek.

I'm hopeful for the whole process. Tests from the vet show that she has a heart murmur but that there's no immediate danger. Her heart is clear of blood clots, which is great news.

I'll post about her progress from time to time. It would be amazing to have Dida's tests come back next year clear of a murmur.


For Phil's interview on NPR, click here.

For a recent post on Dida, click here

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A Glimmer of Nature

Photo by myself at a Turkish market on 41st Street and 5th Avenue.

A salad bar and fresh produce are nicely presented to customers. Incidentally I was with coworkers when I took this photo, who don't know about this blog. One turned to me with a big grin on her face and said,'You're really crazy, you know that?'

One woman's bushel of zucchini is another woman's photo-op.

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Thanks for all the kind wishes yesterday. Dida is very touched.

Mark and I will be going to a holistic pet food store in the East Village this weekend for advice. Thanks Brooklynite Kizz for making the suggestion. We'd heard about Whiskers from friends who radically changed the diets of their two cats, which are now sleek and happily interested in their food. We'll keep you posted!

It's been beautiful here these last few days. One great thing about living in Brooklyn is that many of the subways travel over bridges in the mornings. They emerge from dark tunnels to an expansive view of the Brooklyn Bridge and lower Manhattan skyline.

I hope to get a photo from the train one of these mornings. Usually people are too busy making cell phone calls or checking their messages to even look outside, the instant they see sunshine.

It's too bad. They're missing the best part of the ride.

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Our Extended Family

Photo of Dida by myself last year, in one of Dida's favorite locations.

Dida, our calico, likes to hide between the shower curtain and the shower liner when she's nervous. She thinks that no one can find her there.

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Lately, Mark and I are dealing with our cat Dida, who is going through some health issues.

Dida suddenly started limping this weekend. She had a spazz attack Friday night in front of us, where she gallivanted all over us and the furniture. The next couple days, she had trouble getting up on the couch. She looked nervous and frankly a little weird. She spent a lot of time sleeping and alone which is unusual - she is usually very sociable.

Monday morning, Mark persuaded me to take Dida to the vet, since she was still acting strange. I'd call her name and try to make eye contact, but she'd stay sitting, hunched over, looking off into the distance.

Well, long story short, Dida has heart trouble. One of her hind legs was injured by a blood clot. It's my theory that Mark and I were witnesses to the exact moment of the clot, that is, when she had the spazz attack Friday night.

I raised two of Dida's kittens until they were around 7 years old, when they passed away suddenly a couple years ago. It's now coming together that all three have had congenital heart trouble.

Missy, a beautiful tiny calico that was so sweet and dear probably had an aneurysm. Suzy, an equally beautiful grey calico that was adventuresome and spirited had a blood clot to her hind legs. I had to put her to sleep after a long, distressed night at the emergency room.

Dida is lucky in comparison because we can try to medicate her condition. She's not an easy cat, however, and giving her pills or getting her in the carrier means a half-hour run around the apartment, much hissing and a wrestling match.

It's the plight of every pet owner - you commit yourself to your pet, making decisions for her best interest without knowing if you're doing the 'right' thing. I'm realistic about Dida's future. I'm prepared to keep her comfortable, pamper her, but not go to any extreme lengths where her dignity is compromised.

Tonight, Dida is extremely happy to be home from the vet, and is settled beside me on the sofa. She's forgiven me for our earlier wrestling match and is purring, with full knowledge that she's very much cared for.

Dida and her original litter of five kittens were rescued from the rail yards near Hell's Kitchen, around 42nd Street. Since the rescue, she hasn't stepped outside. She loves to watch birds and squirrels in her spare time.

Dida considers herself to be a true New Yorker.



Lower photo by myself last week. Dida rested comfortably on Mark's leg, while he slept.

For earlier posts about Dida, click here or here.

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Down and Out in Soho

Photo by myself on Spring Street in Soho.

Soho boasts a mix of quirky expensive boutiques and beautiful old architecture. Throw the homeless into the mix and you've got high contrast.

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Mark and I tried out the new camera today, braving the frigid winds to stand along the Williamsburg waterfront. The trouble is, the view there was rather unspectacular, so I have nothing respectable to show.

I did take a nice photo of my cat Dida, however. She can be photogenic sometimes, and here she is, looking to squeeze onto the sofa.

I have to say the camera is pretty great. I can't imagine taking really bad shots with it. Except for the pictures of the waterfront, that is.



I don't have much else to write tonight for whatever reason, so I'll leave it at that.

Happy Monday, everyone!

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Single Woman with Cats

Photo by myself, in Koreatown.

There's always mandoo (Korean dumplings) being made at the Mandoo Bar on 32nd and Fifth Avenue.

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I don't remember things often. My brain is a sieve. If anyone asks me to tell a joke or recite a poem on the spot, I'm speechless.

I do, however, recall one of the best cartoons ever. It was in The New Yorker, by Leo Cullum.

A man stands in front of his cat, shaking his finger and scowling. He says to the cat, 'Never, ever, think outside the box.'

For a while now, my cat Dida has been doing just that. She's ruined the wood of the laundry room floor. Mark and I have gotten fed up (Mark especially) and now Dida has been relocated to the bathroom, along with her litter, a bowl of water and a bowl of food.

When I adopted Dida, I also adopted two of her kittens. She'd had a beautiful litter, and the whole family spent their days in the window of a pet store on Ninth Avenue. Only Dida and two kittens remained when I finally went into the store. I wanted the two kittens, but I walked out with three cats. Yes, I'm a softie, and I didn't want anyone to be left out.

After adopting the cats, I was sensitive to that cliche, 'single woman with cats'. I was single, I lived in a walk-up in New York, I had cats. The cats kept me company. I took care of them and in their own way, they cared for me. I coined my screen name 'Kittylittered', because I was 'littered with cats'.

The single woman with multiple cats is an urban cliche. It mixes a couple of beliefs together - that women, especially single ones, have a preference for cats over dogs, and that it's easy for women to wind up alone in the city.

I have to wonder why 'single woman with cats' is also supposed to be funny. Because not everyone is a cat lover? Because to shack up with cats means to isolate oneself, when you really need to let your hair down and go out?

The two kittens grew up to be cats, and two years ago they died suddenly within six months of each other. I won't go into how they died, but it was sudden and sad. Now, Dida doesn't remember that she was a mom (I don't believe. We haven't talked this out, but she doesn't act like a mom, and she doesn't act like she misses any cats, which I guess is a good thing).

Like any self-respecting cat, Dida's been yowling from her little prison. Hopefully, she'll only have to stay there a couple weeks before she's cured of her 'little problem'.

Until then, I'll be an attached woman with a wailing cat in the background.

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