Uh-oh, this is getting serious!

Miko has been in school, of one sort or another, pretty steadily since we got him in Sept. '04. He had basic and intermediate obedience, several sessions of rally obedience (a fun and interesting sport) and a class in tricks and utility skills at the Berkeley East Bay Humane Society, where we got him. He started agility classes offered through the city of Albany's rec department. This served to introduce him to the equipment, and me to the idea that this could be a lot of fun. We moved on to classes with Kathryn Horn, and then to Sandra Rogers at Ace DogSports, across the bay in Brisbane (indoor facility) or Pacifica (outdoors), depending on the weather. Sandy is very successful with her own dogs, and she's a terrific teacher. Miko has flourished under her tutelage ... even I, world's klutziest handler, am improving!


Next month (April), we'll be going to PowerPaws Agility Camp! I never went away to camp as a kid -- too busy with horse shows every weekend -- and this isn't sleep-over camp, but it'll be 3 days of intense activity, plus I'll get a Power Paws T-shirt!

Meanwhile, Moxie has had basic obedience and a trick class at the Oakland SPCA. He has recently started foundation work with Sandy. Foundation work is the training you do to get a dog ready to start actual agility training -- a lot of heel-work, stays, getting the dog to stand on different things (box, teeter-board, etc). Moxie was born to do this stuff. He literally drags me from one obstacle to the next so he can try them all. If he had his way, he'd get to climb on the "real" obstacles -- the dogwalk and A-frame -- that are shoved out of the way against the wall. His attitude is ME! LET ME!!! EVERYBODY GET OUTTA MY WAY!!!!!

So here's what my life looks like: 3 times a week I'm driving across the bay bridge, either to lessons or practice. Let's see -- the toll recently went up to $4, so that's $12/wk, plus about 2.5 gallons of gas per round trip in my Subie ... premium gas is now back up to $3.25/gallon AT COSTCO! Somebody else do the math; it makes my head hurt!

Might as Well Meet the Cats Too :-)

Scrabble, AKA Enormo-Fluff wants it known that he is Numero Uno in this household. Sky the Kitty From Hell doesn't care what I say or don't say about him. He's too busy hatching plots to make life miserable for Fantan, our housemate's cat who lives in the apartment downstairs.

Scrabble came into my life on August 26, 1996 -- a slightly belated birthday present maybe. He was maybe 6 weeks old, a ball of black and white tuxedo fluff sitting under the downspout by the patio gate, watching a parade of ants. I picked him up, he purred, that's all she wrote. I've had a lot of nice cats over the years, but Mr. Scrabs is the best. He's my guy. (Don't tell Miko, but it's true.)

When I got him, Elsa had 3 cats, and I sort of had one too, a semi-feral tabby called Bandit (cuz he had a striped tail like a racoon, sorta) who slept in a little doghouse outside on the porch, kept the ivy-covered back hillside free of rats, and wouldn't let anyone touch him but me. Elsa's cats were old, and one by one they died; Bandit met a sad and untimely end, and that left Scrabble as the only cat -- the only animal -- for a number of years. He grew into a 16-pound fluffy handsome fellow, an old soul with a sense of humor. Things strike him as funny -- I can tell.



He was horrified when we brought Miko home, and Miko wasn't quite sure what to make of the idea of sharing space with a cat. We kept them completely separated for a week, let them smell each other under the door and check out each other's scent in the living room, one at a time. Later, we blocked doorways with chairs so Scrabble could come and go while Miko was more confined. I kept dog treats in my pockets at all times, and whenever Miko would start in with the "that thing looks good to eat" stare I'd toss kibble on the ground in front of him to redirect his attention. It didn't really take long -- within a month and a half I felt confident about leaving them alone together. They get along fine, but I can't say they've ever become friends.


There was never any question: Scrabble was "Sara's cat." Wherever I went, within a few minutes there he'd be as well. Not wanting to sit in my lap, not demanding that I pet him; he'd just be there, feather-boa tail wrapped neatly around his front paws, watching me.

Enter Sky, the Kitty From Hell. What can I say? He's Frank Sinatra reincarnated, with gorgeous blue eyes. Since Scrabble's such a one-person cat, Elsa decided to get one of her own. Sky was about 9 months old when we got him from the Feral Cat Foundation, and the very clear message I take away from this experience is that the "socialization window" of kittens and puppies is even more important than I thought.



Sky was born to a feral mother and lived the first 5 or 6 months of his life in a community of stray and feral cats that an elderly woman was feeding. When she became ill, the FCF people stepped in, socializing and finding homes for as many of the cats as they could. Sky had been adopted and returned before we got him. The story was that his first family had a 2 year old, and Sky was afraid of the child. At any rate, he spent his first 2 weeks with us hiding under a dresser. We'd been told that he loved other cats, and indeed he did want to make friends with Scrabble. Unfortunately, Scrabble wasn't having any. So Sky turned his attention to Miko, and the 2 of them became great pals. They'd sleep together and groom each other -- it was really cute.


Scrabble's nose was definitely out of joint; he had enjoyed being the only cat. He and Sky had several noisy fights and then came to an accommodation of sorts. But Scrabble clearly holds me responsible for this disruption to his idyllic life.

And then, of course, we got Moxie. Cat's don't have particularly expressive faces, but I'm here to tell you that when Scrabble saw "another one of those things" coming through the patio gate, he looked aghast. And then, perhaps thinking of Miko's lengthy break-in period, he puffed himself up to twice his considerable size, unsheathed his front claws, stood up on his back feet and advanced toward Moxie, hissing. The poor dog was terrified and hid behind my legs. Satisfied he'd made his point, Scrabble sat down and gave himself a thorough grooming.

From Sky's point of view the addition of Moxie was not such a great thing either. Moxie monopolizes Miko's attention, so the sweet Sky-Miko friendship has been back-burnered somewhat. They still like each other, though. If Sky hasn't come in by the time we want to go to bed, I leash up Miko and we walk around the corner to the neighbor's yard where Sky hangs out. Sky wears a bell and we can always hear him coming, running up to his old buddy to say hello. And then he'll follow us home.


Sky's an odd one. He has a kind of street-urchin charm. I wish we'd gotten him when he was younger and could have socialized him better. Or maybe it doesn't matter; maybe he'd never have been the lap cat Elsa wanted. Several times we were at the point of taking him back to the FCF people because he was so aggressive with our housemate's cat. But he's getting better -- at least Fantan hasn't had any unexpected trips to the vet lately!

The final word of this post has to be Scrabble's. It is "Hrrrrumph!!