Autumn

Mrrrr Friends,

Autumn is here. I love autumn.

Crunchy leaves:

Fresh wood piles:

Clearing runways for tree-scaling:

Fewer bugs down by my brook:

And, pumpkin pie:

And in just a month or two...snow, glorious snow!

How High Can One Go?

Mrrrrr Friends,

It's been a few days since I had a chance to go out. Oom went to a conference - like she needs to spend more time talking to people - and Boo didn't see fit to get me out for a walk. He did let me hang out on the porch so I could check tracks and sniff the winds.

Anyway, I've been pent up, and I relished the chance this morning to get out into the world, go down to my brook, play in the snow, and check out the various animal tracks I had been seeing for days. (No porcupines here, but deer, squirrels, a few too many dog tracks and what Oom and I think might have been a fox.)

After doing a tour around the neighbor's yard - since my neighbor cat-pal Brewster isn't getting out, I'm covering his perimeter duty - I got an urge to do some climbing.

It started out as an innocent clawing of the arbor vitae...an exercise I engage in often, as you can note in the first photo from my last blog post. Then a few fulsome tugs up the trunk, and I was in familiar 7 to 8 foot territory. Oom was happy to see me up and about.

The urge was on me at this point, and I just kept going...

I explored some outer branches.

At this point, I had been up a good 20 minutes and attained an estimated 25 feet. I could sense Oom wasn't completely comfortable; neither was the Blue Jay that flew into the tree thinking I was a crow to be harassed...surprise! He left pretty quick without so much as a peep.

In the end, I got up to the top of the main trunk.

I gotta admit, I had a little trouble at this point figuring out how to get down. The branches were no longer like stairs. Oom was telling me to come along and reaching for a ladder, so I had to resort to a butt-down, "bear-cub" strategy. Not pretty, but it works.

I guess you can climb pretty high, but chances are you've probably left some folks behind, and they're probably worried that you might get stuck or fall. In the end, a smart cat finds his way back down to earth in a timely fashion. If you stay up too high, too long, it's not fun anymore.

Brook Alert!

Mrrrr Friends,

It has been rainy the past few days. I'm happy padding about in the wet grass especially in our back yard. Sometimes, it takes a little reminding for Oom to remember her top priority, outdoor explorations with the cat, right after the morning cuppa.

This morning it was grey and cloudy, but I was looking forward to catching up after a few days away from dedicated perambulating.

The Juncos are here and many a nattering Nuthatch.

Most of the leaves have fallen off the trees already. They are fun to chase when they are dry but also provide amusement when wet. Clumps come along that just seem life-like to the paw...so they must be neutralized - rumpled up and battered about a bit. It keeps humans in a good mood too when you've drug them out on a rainy and wet day.

So we strolled out to our bench. The brook has been loud since the long rains of the other day and I knew it would be worth checking out, but it was fun to see how high and how fast.

Here's the view from our bench...that's my usual mid-brook meditation rock on the left there and the path I usually hop along (from the tree trunk on the right) is, as you can see, inundated.
Nevertheless, undaunted, I went to to make sure. Nope no crossing here.

And look upstream...this is usually pretty tame.

Nevertheless, I puttered upstream along the bank and found a nice little tree root sticking out that allowed me a good perch for looking into the water and catching a few tasty licks.

Afterwards, I tried to talk to one of the little White-breasted Nuthatches scolding me from the fine pine tree. He wasn't having any of it and wouldn't even pose for a photo.

But we did think the lichen on the pine was quite lovely.
I still have not yet scaled the big pine...I did a run up today but instead chose to tackle one of the lindens overlooking my brook. (Be patient.)

We've included my aborted first set so you can see the careful head-bobbing motion that takes place from launch and all during the climb. Even when I chose to not climb at the last minute, I always continue this scanning motion as it is critical to measuring trunk girth in relationship to grip and velocity. In the end, that was a pretty low climb for my standards but, given it was a new tree - single trunk, no branches, I was pleased with the effort (though the cameraperson still faces a learning curve...perhaps a little advanced technology would help?)

Not bad for a rainy weekend.

Born to Climb; tree-scaling revealed

Mrrrrr Friends,

The world of tree-scaling continues to occupy my time here in Upper Jay. I have a host of new trees and species varieties to work with and have set some goals for myself as cats around the world prepare for the 1402nd bi-annual Catolympic Games to be held in Australia this December. Primarily, my new home is allowing me to hone my trunk skills. As those of you who follow the blog know, I am better known in the cat world for my small-branch paw skills.

Here’s a very quick video previewing my latest work. Unfortunately, the cameraperson was not quick enough on the start button to capture my lightening 30-foot sprint up to the base of the tree in question, but she recovered herself just as I started my ascent.

Look at the base of the Linden tree in the video, then click the play button and you’ll see my tightly coiled black form spring to life. Not only will you see my no nonsense climb, if you watch closely, you’ll also catch a glimpse of my radical head down descent. Since its introduction at my 2007 debut at the Catolympics, the “Diesel Dive” is catching on!

I was born to climb.

Goings On and Upwards

Mrrrrr Friends,

Life is pretty busy here in Upper Jay. I’ve got my paws full surveying and monitoring a new yard and getting to know its inhabitants. Here are a few highlights.
My tree of choice right now is the many-trunked Tilia americana, Linden or Basswood, just behind the house at the base of a hill. It sits in a very slight depression with spongy, spring-fed ground around it, sprouting sedges and other cool wet-loving plants. I’ve ascended three of the trunks so far – one at a dead run this morning with a successful 10-foot climb. Here I am scoping out the approach and launch area.

I find the damp wet ground a very appealing launch pad substrate. The shallow mini-pools of water make it possible to abort a run, stop and take a drink of ground water like it was all planned. There is a very nice medium-sized glacial erratic next to the lone trunk, which could serve as an alternative launch pad or sunning rock. It also affords a perch for viewing frogs, who congregate among the sedges and are amazing creatures. The frogs I’m meeting so far are streamlined numbers…not the peepers of my native Wisconsin. They don’t seem too disturbed by me looking at them, but there’s something about them that doesn’t inspire a paws-on approach.
The Linden tree dominates our view from the back porch, and it seems to be one of the favorite haunts of many of the birds that visit us.

While I’m out in the yard, at least once a day, Alex keeps tabs on our winged friends from the back porch. The Linden has hosted racketing Blue Jays, mrrmrrring Cedar Waxwings, staccato Chickadees, tippity tapping Downey and Hairy Woodpeckers, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Juncos, Phoebes, Nuthatches, at least one White-crowned Sparrow and a couple of elusive little warbler-types that Alex and Kelley have not yet identified.

Our most frequent bird visitor of late is “Stinker,” a noisy, very territorial male House wren who is renovating the Carolina Wren box hanging from our back porch. He’s had his eye on the place for a month or so, but only recently took the plunge. We think he’s trying to convince his partner Rose to move in for a double-clutch year. Rose seems to be a bit shy of Alex, so I’m not sure that Stinker will persevere in moving her…maybe with some further renovation of the interior he’ll convince her next year?

This bird box has an illustrious history of producing happy wren families. It was chock full of sticks and bird junk from its last happy brood (click on the House Wren link in the “Labels” column to see more on that). In a fit of human moving and organizing mania my male person cleaned it out this spring. Stinker was pretty appalled that the place didn’t come with furniture, but he took care of that right away.

A New Leaf

Mrrrrr Friends,

I hope your human holidays were fun, furry, and relaxing.

Ours were kind of quiet with spurts of busyness. People seem to congregate on human holidays. This is somewhat entertaining for cats like me and Alex. We enjoy smelling what people bring in on their clothes and persons…where they’ve been, what they’ve been eating, what lotion they use, etcetera. We do not enjoy that, when they arrive, they seem bent on sitting on all the cat spots…the couch, the nice chair. After they plump themselves right down, they look at us oddly as we stand in front of them, glaring. Or they take it as a compliment when we go ahead and try to sit on our spot – through them – anyway.

Ah well. Our people smile at our minor tribulations when we have company. They reprimand inappropriate shooshing of cats when we are comfortably ensconced on a favorite resting spot, but they do believe in first come, first serve. That’s okay by us. If you leave your seat to eat or pee, for example, and someone takes your spot….that’s life. It’s a two-way street here at our house…humans can lose their seats as easily as cats.

Anyway, it was nice to see some different faces, listen to stories, and watch the fire.

It put me in a contemplative mood.

For a long time now, I’ve been sensing a need for change. While I love the back yard at the little house, I’m feeling a bit cramped and I think I’m gaining weight. I miss the open spaces and deep snow of Wisconsin and, while I am not in a hurry to move back home, I yearn for a little freshwater stream to fish in, some new trees to climb, and a greater variety of critters whose antics I can follow.

Of course, as soon as I say that, I think about how much I love my climbing trees here, my neighbor pal David, and being close to my son Rotor. But cats do move on.

Given my slightly rounder than usual girth – my winter cat suit was a bit tight – I think some stairways are needed. Nothing like running up and down stairs chasing a wide variety of cat toys and, better yet, chasing Alex, to get a fellow into fit shape for spring-time tree climbing. Speaking of which…I’m considering a shift to conifers. Not that I don’t enjoy Acer saccharum and Prunus serotina – my favorites here at the little house – but I need to expand my horizons. I’m thinking Balsam Fir, Black Spruce, and, for variety, perhaps some Quaking Aspen.

The holidays can often be about mayhem, but they can also provide some quality quiet time that allows deep held thoughts to percolate and brew…if you let them. I’ve been feeling this way for some months now…but now I know I’m thinking in the right direction.

I hope you can take some time to relax and think this holiday…let your mind go off the leash and just roam about sniffing for hopes and dreams. Cats are good at this. If you know a cat, you might want to snuggle up with them and ask their help in unleashing your brain.

Me, I’m already working on making my dreams reality.

Catolympics & Catastrophe

Mrrrr Friends,

Last weekend I attended the 1,401st bi-annual Catolympics in Needles, CA. It was quite an event, with cats of all shapes and sizes in attendance, and hosted by Muddlepuddle, one of the wisest cats in the universe. There were a lot of felines like me but there were also lynx, cheetahs, lions…cats of all shapes and sizes. (Yes, Snoopy’s brother Spike was there too…a few individuals from other species do attend.) I did some tree climbing there.

Cats aren’t terribly competitive, you know, at least not just for the sake of being competitive. It’s different, for some cats, when, for example, a mouse is involved. But at the catolympics we don't do prey items and there isn’t much scoring and trying to win…it is more a sharing of methodologies. I am satisfied to say that I awed more than a few cats with my tree-top paw work. I, in turn, was truly amazed by some of the tree-trunk management skills of my feline friends. If you’ve ever seen a squirrel climb up a tree trunk going around and around, then you’ll just begin to understand the variety of strategies for climbing a tree. And yes, since you are wondering, there were all different sizes of trees too.

Interestingly, getting back down is a problem shared by many of my fellow felines.

A great time was had by all. We ate tons of “Cowboy Cookout” – that wonderful canned entrée by Merrick – washed down with a good St. Emilion that our French cat amies brought and followed by long, yowling caterwaul-alongs with a lovely single malt courtesy of our Scottish Fold colleagues. Some nights there were cans and bottles strewn about…morning required a lot of cleanup and recycling.

You’re probably wondering how I managed to get the time away without my people knowing. We cats have our ways. You know all those hours of sleep we get in? Sometimes we’re really just not there. I can’t say more…cats have codes. But, in this case, the folks were up in the Adirondacks, and my pal Alex was having a spa weekend with her Granma.

Alex needed the spa weekend because she nipped out to Gstaad for a big cat ski party the weekend before Thanksgiving. Again the people were away and the cats did play. Unfortunately, Alex had a skiing accident…not the kind I usually have après-ski with the Scotch, but a real live “agony of defeat” kind of accident.

She hurt herself…ACL injury or, in cat terms, a torn cruciate ligament in her right rear leg. We think it happened while landing after a particularly long or slightly off-pitch jump. She’s had a full work up now by a cat surgeon specialist in Westbury, NY, and we are all discussing the surgery versus no surgery options. It’s a difficult time. Alex is bravely powering through, but we all know there is a limitation. The ligament cannot heal. It is torn for good.

The question is can Alex’s supercat body compensate and build scar tissue quickly enough and in a way that will give her a good long-term quality of life? The risk is that she will blow her meniscus – the pad in her knee between the two long bones. Then, she will definitely need surgery. Or, the vet lady surgeon can go in now and replace Alex’s ligament with a fancy plastic line that is, basically, thick fishing line. We all want to know what kind of knot she’ll use.

Cats don’t like surgery, let’s be clear. We are not like dogs. Dogs usually yowl and whimper when they are hurt. We rarely do this. We dig deep and try to act healthy. We don’t want to be fooled with or fussed over at this level. Sometimes this is a good strategy, sometimes it is not. Alex wants time to fix herself by sleeping and taking it relatively easy. A cat would rarely choose surgery even when it might be the best path to healing and staying healthy. We might need to consider some human intervention here.

I’m doing my part for Alex by licking her forehead a lot and working with her to develop ligament friendly games: door jamb paw hockey is our favorite right now. I’ll keep all of you up to date on developments.

Up and Down

Dear Friends,

It has been a busy week, what with the holiday, my male person’s mom around, and the new sailboat.

Some highlights of my recent activities…

Alex and I continue birdwatching. Since the successful fledging of the House Wrens, we’ve heard the little guys around a bit, trying out their new voices, but we haven’t seen them. Their parents come and scold us from time to time, just so we don’t miss them too much. We have seen our backyard resident American Robin’s new fledgling quite a bit. We’re surprised there was only one, but the young one looks healthy and happy.

The Tufted Titmice are out, and there must be fledglings, but we never see them. Same with the Chipping Sparrows. Most interesting, though, is the fact that the flickers are about again. Are there kids flying about? We think we’ve seen one.

We’ve been most entertained by Chippie. An eastern chipmunk who has a very nice burrow in the back yard just outside my female person’s office. He is getting used to us so we see each other in the yard from time to time. Mostly, we watch Chippie from the office windows…here’s a poor photo.

Oh, and Alex has a bunny…I mean rabbit, eastern cottontail. Bunny comes out every late afternoon from under the holly tree and hops around foraging for greens and clover. Alex is particularly fond of rabbits, having helped to raise a few in Wisconsin last summer.

All this critter observation makes me want to get out and experience the world. So, I’ve decided to get back into serious tree-climbing. As a youngster, I occasionally scrambled up a tree for fun, but these days I’m considering it an athletic pastime and a way to broaden my outlook on the world.

So, at least every week, I’m planning a major climbing event. I’ve scoped out the Copper Beach, the King Maple, and the White Cedar in the backyard. In the front yard, I’ve already conquered the easy slope of the Black Cherry…the far right branch here.

Usually, I take a 10 foot run at this kind of situation…then I just zoom right up. Sometimes, I stop at the first crotch, but I’ve been all the way past the second crotch in this photo.

Kittens, don’t try this at home! You need proper training, good equipment, a reliable spotter, and a fine attitude. If you are going to climb up a tree – as my person says – you gotta be willing to climb down. Me, I just go down head first.

With the Black Cherry, the ascent was gratifying and swift. Descent was pretty easy, given the slope.

In my most recent exploit, captured here by my person, I scaled the Sugar Maple. This one is tough at first as there are no branches for about 7 feet and the trunk is a pure vertical. You gotta haul up the last foot or two – I recommend some upper body training and a lot of rest to prepare. Once in the branches, a cat can really display some paw work using the tree canopy to its fullest. The catbirds were really impressed.

Descent took some real thought. Finally, I had to opt for “the running fall.” One simply goes down head first, as if all four paws are going to stick to the trunk. You give up and jump when you realize that’s a myth.

After all that work, I had to help inspect the new sail boat. “Skimmy,” proper name Skimmer – named after Rynchops niger, the Black Skimmer - is a 20 foot Racing Swampscott Dory built on a George Chaisson design. She’s here, on the hard, with me, Rob, her illustrious builder and a very nice man, and my male person.

After I issued her catificate of reliability, my people put her on a mooring and they’re trying to live up to her design. She’s fast and tender, but I think they are getting the hang of it. Next boat is going to have full cat bunks on it so we can all sail together (yes, cats can swim).

So, as you can see, it has been busy. Then it went and got hot and, as I am a snowcat, my primary occupation for the past few days is best captured here.