We missed the whole thing

I keep missing the big storms in New York.  I was out of town at Christmas when a massive blizzard swamped the city in 2-3 feet of snow for a week.  And last weekend I had the good fortune to be out of town for Hurricane Irene's visit to my adopted hometown.

My girlfriend and I had already planned to be out of town this past weekend for a couple of family events in Ohio.  By the time we were ready to leave on Thursday morning, the NWS had just updated Irene's projected path for New York.  As we were packing Mayor Bloomberg was on TV telling people to prepare to evacuate low-lying areas.  While we live in Zone C and we're well up a hill from the Gowanus Canal, I went to my basement storage room anyway and moved a few valuable boxes off the floor.  And I moved my viola onto the bed, just in case potential floodwaters came up into the apartment itself.  We left the cats with plenty of food and water (and I'd arranged for a friend to check on them on Saturday) and we got on the road.

By Friday afternoon the predictions of doom and destruction had gotten so bad that we went to Wal-Mart in Boardman, OH, to pick up some emergency provisions in case we returned to a Brooklyn devoid of power and rife with anarchy.  They had bottled water for sale at $4 a case, and I insisted we get three cases.  At that price, it would have been irresponsible not to buy it.  We also bought two heavy-duty LED flashlights, candles, granola bars, peanut butter, and jelly.  I thought we'd get bread on Sunday on our way back to the city.  As the weather predictions grew worse, on Friday night we decided we'd try to go back to New York on Monday instead.  I wasn't able to fully relax until Saturday afternoon and evening, no doubt helped by the samples of homemade wine my girlfriend's uncle served at a family picnic/tasting that night.  We got home late and I found myself watching a Times Square webcam, comforted by the bright lights and the knowledge that the city was still standing, at least at that hour.

As soon as I was awake on Sunday morning I was back online, checking Twitter and news sites for updates on the storm.  By 10 AM it was clear that the hurricane had spared the city the worst of its fury.  I relaxed and hoped that I wouldn't see a photo of a tree branch through my living room window.  I worried a little when I saw photos of the Gowanus Canal close to cresting its banks, but I never heard anything about the canal actually overflowing.   We drove to Johnstown to see my mother, secure in the knowledge that our apartment was OK.  Late on Sunday night, a friend tweeted that he'd gone to a bar on 4th Avenue and confirmed everything down there was clear.

The return trip to New York was the least eventful drive I've had in the past few months.  It was busy but there were no long delays or backups.  As we drove through Park Slope, we marveled at the lack of evidence of a hurricane.  The damage we saw looked like it was from a strong microburst, not a sustained storm.  The cats were fine when we got back.  Based on the mess they left us, they must have had quite a hurricane party.

And now, Keyboard Gato

Of course, Keyboard Cat has a non-union Mexican equivalent. Senor Speilbergo never had to worry about his American counterpart showing up on set to disparage his directing abilities, though.

update on my new friend

Two months ago I got my new cat, Grady, from the ASPCA. At first I thought they were going to get along famously, but my initial optimism was premature. About a week after Grady came home, something happened between the cats and Starlite wound up living under my bed. Later, he moved to the bathroom, where he had access to his own litter box and food, and he spent most of his time hiding behind the toilet. I tried to get him to come out, but any time Grady approached him, he'd scurry behind the toilet again. This state of affairs continued for over a month.

Last Friday, I was home early from jury duty, so I had time to call the ASPCA and see if they had any suggestions as to how I could get the cats to tolerate each other, if not live together happily. The doctor I spoke to gave me some tips and we laid out a basic strategy to get them reacquainted. Step One of the plan was to move Starlite from the bathroom to the office, where he has more room to move around and windows so he has something else to look at. I moved him in there on Friday night, and his behavior has improved since the move. He still runs and hides under a desk when Grady comes in, but when I keep the office door closed (which is most of the time) he's happy to climb onto my desk, roll around, and cry for attention. It's going to be a long process, and in the meantime I have to split my time between the living room and the office in order to keep them separated and still spend time with both cats. But there's hope for the future.

Grady continues to be one of the cutest cats ever. He's completely insane, though. He chases his tail all the time, and leaps from couch to chair to windowsill during his manic phases. I'm not sure he sleeps much. The past few mornings he's woken me up by chasing his tail on my bed. It's impossible to sleep with a cat jumping around next to you.

I've got a new friend

It's been about six months since Mr. Starlite became my only cat, so I decided that it was time to get him a friend. I went to the ASPCA on Saturday and came home with Grady, a two-year-old black and white cat with a playful and happy disposition. Grady was the name the ASPCA gave him, and I'm going to keep it. He looks a bit like he's wearing a tuxedo, and the name reminds me of Delbert Grady, the old caretaker in The Shining who appears to Jack Nicholson as a butler. (I know, Delbert Grady chopped up his whole family, but let's not dwell on that.) Grady spent Saturday and part of Sunday cooped up in my home office, but this afternoon I couldn't let him be alone any longer. I let him out to meet Starlite. They've swatted at each other a few times and chased each other around, but I think they're going to get along. Although he doesn't appear to have anything wrong with him, I need to take Grady to my vet to make sure he's in good health just to be safe. That should happen in the next week or two.

I've put some photos of Grady here.

Vladimir Catelinet, 1998-2007

I honestly can't believe I have to post this message. I'm still in shock. I wrote most of this post as an e-mail this morning to my friends and family. Last January, my cat Magenta passed away after being ill for several weeks. I guess his illness gave me time to prepare for him to die. But nothing prepared me for what happened last night.

Vladi died suddenly last night around 1 AM. I don't know what happened to him. I hadn't seen him for about an hour but that wasn't odd. I was just about to go to bed and I went in the bedroom and found him lying there on the bed like he was asleep. But he wasn't breathing and his eyes were wide open. I just knew he was gone as soon as I saw him. I rushed him to the vet center near my apartment but there was nothing to be done for him. When I first got him as a kitten the vet said he had a heart murmur, but my NY vet said he couldn't hear it and couldn't confirm it. Maybe that had something to do with it. Whatever it was, I hope he didn't suffer. He'd had a happy Sunday evening hanging out with my girlfriend and I, and even an hour or two before he died he was sitting quietly dozing on the couch with me as I watched TV. That's why I think it was a sudden heart attack or other problem that took him. He wasn't suffering at all, he didn't seem sick, so I think it was something that just couldn't be prevented or helped.

Still, I can't believe he's gone. It happened so fast, and so strangely, that it was like a dream. I'm going to miss him so much. He was my first pet. I wasn't a cat person or even a pet person before Liz and I got Vladi as a wedding gift from a friend. It didn't take long for me to love him. He was so sweet, the way he would curl up in my lap for hours or sit next to me on the couch. He was always so crazy and rambunctious, and he was never sick. We called him "Officer Vlad" for the way he would patrol the apartment and meow if he found anything out of the ordinary. He followed me around the apartment like a puppy would. He'd meet me at the door when I came home after work. He was my alarm clock if I didn't get out of bed to feed him, and he'd wake me up by knocking things off my dresser until I got up. Lately he'd been sleeping on my pillow, sometimes on top of my head. He was so small and light that he sometimes jumped from the ground straight to the top of a door seven feet above him. When he did that as a kitten he was too scared to jump down on his own, so I'd hold up a book and he'd use that as an "elevator" to come down. He used to wrestle Magenta all the time, and when I saw them fighting I used to sing the Kirk vs. Spock fight music from the old Star Trek episode "Amok Time." After Magenta died last year he and Starlite would chase each other all over the apartment, usually right in front of me while I was watching TV or using my computer. One of his favorite tricks was to jump on my back when I wasn't expecting it and he'd sit on my shoulder like a pirate's parrot. He was "that little bastard," but he was also a really special little friend.

When he was a kitten, Vladi didn't mind his carrier or car trips. That changed after we took him to Johnstown with us for Thanksgiving in November 1998, when he was just a few months old. He hid under my bed the entire time he was in my room, and he destroyed a shelf of old toys when he tried to climb onto it. After that we had to fight with him every time we had to go to the vet. When we moved to the Upper East Side in 2003, we couldn't find him after the movers had left, and we thought maybe he'd escaped out an open window. We finally found him curled up in the back of his litter box, scared out of his mind. But a few hours later, he was out and exploring his new home and back to bossing the other cats around. He was the alpha cat until last year when Magenta died. Then he and Starlite shared the role of head-cat-in-charge, and not without friction. Like two siblings competing for a parent's attention, they would fight over who could sit in my lap.

Now it's just me and Starlite. He slept next to me last night, which isn't always something he does. I know he knows something happened to his kitty pal. I'm going to have Vladi cremated and I'll get the ashes back to scatter them somewhere in the city along with Magenta's remains. I'll miss that little guy.

Here's a set of photos of Vladi over the years.