Feline Friday: Jennyanydots and the Poetry of Cats

 
Here it is readers! The post you didn't know you've been wanting and you didn't ask for! Cats and poetry. Poetry and cats.  I need to talk about my Jenny a little bit. I feel like I've never really given her the proper treatment here.

I've discussed the trepidation we felt at bringing her in. 

 
  Neither of us considered ourselves "cat people," and both of us suffer from allergies. Not to mention Wiley is about as neurotic a dog as canine-ly possible.  I was just going to take her and her kittens right to the shelter, but those plans fell through, as explained here.

 Eventually, once the kittens began really venturing away from mom, and I saw a hawk circling overhead,  I decided I would just bring them in until the kittens were old enough to be separated from mom, and then I would try to find homes for all three.

During the two weeks I was feeding them outside I just called Jenny "Mama Cat." 

I knew giving her a name would be a bad idea. Once I brought her inside, I started trying out some names. I'm sure at this point a part of me knew I was going to be keeping her but I was still in denial. Now, I'm not going to tell you the other names I tried out. They're good names and I want to save them for any future cats, but don't tell Wiley.

One day when I came downstairs after having spent some time with her and the kittens in the guest room, Hubs said to me, "So, how many of them are we keeping?"  I guess that's when we knew the jig was up.

By then I had had plenty of time to observe Jenny, and none of the names I was considering fit her. All of them were related to literature or pop culture, yet none of them matched her personality. I started reviewing my favorite female characters once again, thinking maybe there was something I missed. This time I broke it down by authors. And that's when I remembered TS Eliot. He's among my favorite all-time poets, but all too often I'm mired down in his earlier work, steeped in hopelessness and disillusionment. I forgot that later in life he wanted to write something he could actually read with his grandchildren, and that's when he wrote this:

It was in this silly and wonderful book that I found "The Old Gumbie Cat," and that is when I knew Jenny finally had a name. Her full name is Jennyanydots. Check it out.

The Old Gumbie Cat
TS Eliot


I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots.

All day she sits upon the stair
 

 or on the steps

 or on the mat;

She sits and sits 

and sits and sits–

and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.
And when all the family’s in bed and asleep,
She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep.
She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice

Their behaviour’s not good and their manners not nice;
So when she has got them lined up on the matting,

She teaches them music, crocheting and tatting.

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
Her equal would be hard to find, she likes the warm and sunny spots.
All day she sits beside the hearth or on the bed

or on my hat:

She sits and sits

 and sits and sits–

and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.

As she finds that the mice will not ever keep quiet,
She is sure it is due to irregular diet;

And believing that nothing is done without trying,
She sets right to work with her baking and frying.
She makes them a mouse–cake of bread and dried peas,
And a beautiful fry of lean bacon and cheese.

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;
The curtain-cord she likes to wind, and tie it into sailor-knots.

She sits upon the window-sill, or anything that’s smooth and flat:

She sits and sits 

and sits and sits–

and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun.

She thinks that the cockroaches just need employment
To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment.

So she’s formed, from that lot of disorderly louts,

A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy-scouts,
With a purpose in life and a good deed to do
And she’s even created a Beetles’ Tattoo.

So for Old Gumbie Cats let us now give three cheers
On whom well-ordered households depend, it appears.

Well, readers. . .  what do you think? She's definitely a "Jenny" amirite?  

Now, would you believe I have even more to say about cats and poetry? Well I do, and you'd better check in next Friday to see what I'm talking about. I'll have some other cats to share that people have sent me pictures of, and some surprises as well. I hope you enjoyed getting to know Jenny better. If you have a cat you'd like to share with the blog for Feline Friday, email me at pabibliophile@gmail.com.  Thanks!

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Irie

For quite some time now I've been hoping someone would share a story of a rescued Greyhound with us, and Irie is the perfect dog for the position. 

 Her racing name was HKK Cee Cee Star and she raced at the Victoryland tracks in Alabama, but fortunately for her she wasn't that great and only had two first place finishes. I say fortunately because she got to retire early and get out of that ugly "sport." 

 I don't know how much you know about Greyhound racing, but the lives those dogs have are unacceptable.

 Kyrsti, Irie's mom, used to volunteer at the Northern Greyhound Adoption in Vermont when she was in college.  Most of the dogs there started their stay by cowering in the back of their cages, shaking, tail between their legs. 

They were afraid of people, afraid to be friendly, afraid to do doggy things like wag their tails and give kisses. Kyrsti and Mike are lucky though, because Irie wanted to do all these things. 

On the other hand, she didn't have the first idea of what a house was or how to behave in one. They had to teach her that windows were solid and she couldn't just walk right through them. They had to take her paws and make them go up and down the steps so she could see how steps worked.  

When Krysti and Mike decided to get a dog, they had some familiarity with the breed due to Krysti's past volunteer experience. Mike's aunt had also had a greyhound, but that dog was very afraid of men due to her life at the racetrack.

They also had to consider that their apartment rules were no puppies, but adult dogs were permitted. This was another reason to pursue a greyhound.  In December of 2012, they went to Northern Greyhound Adoption just to check things out, and of course that's when they met Irie. 

 As soon as they saw how much she adored Mike they knew she would be perfect. To their surprise, they were encouraged to take Irie home that night. 

They balked at the idea because they had exactly zero supplies and were not prepared just yet, so they said they'd return for her the next day and went off to buy pet supplies.

 Halfway through the shopping trip Krysti just couldn't resign herself to leaving Irie at the shelter for a single additional night, and Mike went back to get her while Krysti finished buying what they needed.

Irie has proven to be a lovely dog, and Mike and Krysti have even begun blogging about her. 

There are a few maintenance needs that greyhounds have, like wearing a coat and booties outside, and needing their teeth brushed because they tend to have really bad teeth from their track background.

 There is, however, one significant issue, and it's one many of us know well: separation anxiety. 

In the beginning Irie would cry and howl all day while they were gone, and the neighbors were none too appreciative. 

They have tried a number of things to calm her down, and they introduce these ideas on their blog called A Greyt Life. 

 I'm sure that with passing day Irie can hardly believe her good fortune at winding up with Krysti and Mike. 

She is still learning to navigate the world. She knows she loves donuts and playtime, but she is also a couch potato.

 Most greyhounds require far less exercise than people think. Irie is content to be a snuggle bug most of the time.

When people go into greyhound adoption with a realistic idea of the time it might take to get their sweet pet to trust people again, they can find an incredibly rewarding experience. My brother had a greyhound and he was a doll. All he wanted was a few good pets, and then he'd lie by your feet.

 Any dog can have high maintenance issues. Heck, we've frequently discussed full-bred pedigreed Leroy, who needed eye surgery, whose wrinkles need to be cleaned daily, and who destroyed the house with his separation anxiety until Fanny came along. And he was from a reputable breeder! I'm so glad Irie sprinted into Krysti and Mike's life. 

She is a beautiful dog destined to be a star in her furever home instead of on that dreadful track.  Follow her on Instagram @greythoundvt

Thanks so much for sharing Irie!

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Happy St. Paddy's Day!

To the best of my knowledge, neither Wiley nor Jenny is Irish, although people do occasionally think Wiley is part Irish Setter. And hey-who knows?  He could be. 

I personally think he's Red-Tri Aussie but I have never had him DNA tested.  Anyway, hubs and I are also not of Irish descent, but since St. Patrick's Day is always presented as being so all-inclusive we decided to get in on the fun. 

 

 I got all these "props" at the Dollar Tree, and I kind of suspected this hat might be too big for Wiley but. . .   

 

well it was pretty absurd. I tried to fold it in various ways. 

 It still didn't exactly work. 

 I also tried putting it on myself and taking a selfie with Wiley. You can see how that turned out.  

Overall Wiley was quite cooperative as usual, and he even got a little caught up with himself while he was posing in the wind outside. 

 

Just look at the attitude he developed! 

Occasionally I had a tough time getting him to part with his ball for the whole situation but who can blame him? 

At one point he flopped down in between two steps, which I've never seen him do before - darned if it wasn't ridiculously cute! 

The big surprise of the whole situation was that I got Jenny to cooperate long enough to get a decent picture and I didn't get scratched or bitten. 

 

I guess I had the luck of the Irish working for me!  She definitely was not too thrilled though.

She even stuck her tongue out at me.

I pushed my luck a bit trying to get Wiley and Jenny together for a picture. This was the best I could manage. 

 Eventually Wiley had his fill too and the hat wound up in his mouth. 

Still I'm pleased with the results and I even got enough pictures to play around with some funky editing, like this green picture!

Have a wonderful St. Paddy's Day, from Wiley and Jenny and their mom too!

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Feel-Good Friday

Well here in Pennsylvania the days are longer thanks to DSL, and that definitely makes me feel good. However, I am a very sensitive and light sleeper, and the slightest change to my schedule makes me miserable for two weeks. The older I get the worse it is. Now, please don't get me wrong. I do not want to spend Feel-Good Friday complaining. I'm just setting up this funny video that has been making the rounds on the internet the past few days. This is what it takes to get me out of bed once we're a few days into DSL and my schedule is totally screwed up. Click on the picture and enjoy a good laugh.

Another thing about March in Pennsylvania is the instability of the weather. Mark Twain is credited with saying "If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes."  Well that's not too far off from describing ours either. On Tuesday it was sunny and 60, on Thursday we had a low of 14 degrees with bone-chilling wind. Ugh. Still, Wiley and I took advantage of the beautiful weather to take a walk with Katie, Owen, and Rosco. Look at Wiley getting close enough to Rosco to go nose to nose!  I was so proud of him. And he needed to get a good look at Owen in the stroller too. 

And here's Wiley snuggling on my stomach as I laid on the couch. He's keeping me warm in the cold weather, but will you get a look at those puppy dog eyes?  He wanted me to play ball so badly but I was falling asleep. 

Last but not least, let me share my shameless hussy with you for a touch of Feline Friday.  She looks like a very furry pillow with a foot and eyes. And yes. . . she has put plenty of weight on since the days when we found her and we could see every rib and every bump on her back.  No she's not fat but left to her own devices she would eat nonstop. She definitely has that stray I-have-to-eat-a-lot-because-I-don't-know-where-my-next-meal-is-coming-from mentality.

Since it's Feel-Good Friday, I would really be remiss if I didn't encourage you to make sure you read/saw Wednesday's post about Chesney and the Underdog Jog.  It's very inspiring!


Annndddd. . . try to find some time this weekend to enjoy life as much as this English Bulldog. Click on the picture.

 

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