Posey and I have had a tough couple of days. I had to spend the weekend working, standing on concrete for hours at a time, interacting with small children. Posey had to … move out of the closet temporarily when Rudi wanted the box she was lying on.

Clearly we’re both exhausted.

Dear Corey,

I get why it is that we have to hide all the carbs in the microwave to prevent you from stealing croissants and cookies and bread.

And I get why it is that I have had to learn to put my knitting away, no matter how short a period it is that I’m going to be away from the couch.

But, for the love of all that is feline, can you please explain to me why it is that you insist on devouring our shoelaces?!? They are not good for you, and dealing with that fact is definitely not good for us.

Please keep this in mind in the future.

love,

soe and Rudi

When you have four cats living with you, they like to help with even the most mundane things.

Corey (he’s grown a bit since you last saw him) frequently hops up to help me with the dishes. This particular night he refrained from jumping into the sink and standing under the water and stuck instead with a view from front and center:

Della and Jeremiah laid down with me the other evening to look through a knitting catalog. It wasn’t long, though, before we all agreed our time would be better served with other pursuits:

Posey begs forgiveness for not appearing in any of these shots. She is a cat who likes to do things her own way, which means we spend most of our time together after Rudi has either left for work or gone to bed. She promises to appear in a future post.

1. Teiwice this week I habve founds myself outside at dusjk. Omn ,Momhjm,nday UI caiught the a crescenyt miioon over Rsossluuyn from the Geotrgetown waterfront. Tonuight it was the last nubmiuiomevnts of coloor diasappearimmnhg from nbeyond ythe Baltuinbmiore GHarbotr.

[Ahem. This was typed with my left hand while balancing the roly-poly Corey on my lap and propping him up with my right. Obviously what it says is: “Twice this week I have found myself outside at dusk. On Monday I caught a crescent moon over Rosslyn from the Georgetown waterfront. Tonight it was the last movements of color disappearing from beyond the Baltimore Harbor.” Honestly, it was just too funny not to share the original after Corey freed up my right hand.]

2. Rudi joins me in Baltimore after work. While our pizza is not of New Haven quality, our cannoli (from Vaccaro’s, the same bakery that used to have a stand at D.C.’s Union Station) rivals Libby’s, which is the highest compliment I can pay to Italian delicacies.

3. Another knitter and I were exchanging emails and she happened to mention that one of the socks we’d made during last spring’s Sock Madness had really helped her finesse her grafting skills. After replying that that sock had been my undoing in the competition (yes, it was the first one; so what?) and that, in fact, it had been sitting on my desk untouched since March, I pulled out the baggie and tried the completed sock on. When I had put the socks away, I had been up all night on a cross-country flight trying to finish the pair, was exhausted, and was in Salt Lake where my allergies drive all my senses into overdrive. The socks had an unusual construction and I had felt seams bunching in uncomfortable ways in spots where that would be sure to cause blisters. After I failed to finish by the deadline, I shoved the socks into a baggie and figured I’d have to undo some grafting and maybe frog the socks some. Some day. But on Saturday I realized it had merely been my state of mind (and/or health) that had put these socks into time out. I took them out of sock purgatory and am on my way to a weekend completion of a new pair of socks.

What’s been beautiful in your world this week?

It’s been a rough week here in the Burrow and I just haven’t really felt up to talking about it. But tradition is the sort of thing that shouldn’t be messed with, so here are the usual Thursday Three Beautiful Things from my week past:

1. It was obvious that Della was getting weaker and weaker and I confess that I spilled many tears both before and after taking her to the vet, anticipating from past experience that she would not be coming home. But with the help of a caring vet clinic, some fluids, and a number of medicines, we got a call Tuesday that said we could pick her up and bring her back to the Burrow. Rudi and I are not natural nurses, but we do love our eldest cat tremendously and she is forgiving of our awkwardness. The barrage of medicines doesn’t offer us forever, but they do offer us all some additional time together, which we plan to spend snuggling.

2. Crossing the Taft Bridge up to Woodley Park last night, I note that a few trees below me in Rock Creek Park are beginning to be tipped with yellow and one or two with red. The sun perches just atop those on the horizon before it slips behind them for the night.

3. I finish a knitting project and block it (stretch it out a bit to even out the stitches) on a dinner plate. It ends up looking as cool as I hoped it would, and my fingers are crossed that the recipient will like it, too.

To update the last post: Washington Area Rescue League won’t take strays. They said we could take him to the Humane Society, but as they’re an overcrowded shelter lacking a no-kill policy, we opted not to partake of that option.

They also said that his behavior toward our three cats might not be one of aggression, but more one of fear and lack of prior exposure.

Their advice was to call the P.G. County Animal Shelter and file a formal lost cat report and ask to foster the cat in our home during the waiting period. They said after that time had elapsed the cat was ours and they could legally accept him as a surrendered pet at that point.

I understand that they don’t want to adopt out an animal that could belong to someone. But the whole, we have to make him ours and then give him up is just a cruel trick designed to make us feel guilty and keep him.

I’m not saying it won’t work, but merely saying it’s a mean-spirited response to what was, essentially, a well-intentioned act.

And in the meantime, the kitten is back in the bathroom…

ETA: The woman from P.G. County just returned my message from yesterday. She’s filed the report, but says their policy says the kitten doesn’t legally change ownership for 30 days. Again, I understand the policy, but c’mon people! Work with us here!