the domestic zoo

I caught book fever on the plane ride to Turkey; I brought four books with me and finished them all in 10 days’ time, first one being the weighty tome The Poisonwood Bible. Then 1984, Middlesex and, for a change of pace, Living the Liturgy.

But I didn’t stop there. Upon returning home I devoured Terry Pratchett’s first two novels in the Discworld series: The Color of Magic and The Light Fantastic. The third novel, Equal Rites, arrived today from a fellow PaperBackSwap member. I haven’t started it yet and the anticipation is killing me.

Bridge to Terabithia lasted an afternoon. The Memory Keeper’s Daughter lasted two. Cat’s Cradle has occupied my bedtime reading, and during less harried hours of the day I’m often busy underlining passages of On Wealth and Poverty or At the Corner of East and Now.

As a part of his homelearning, Stephen and I are together reading The Teenage Liberation Handbook. He finished Eats, Shoots & Leaves before I did and sad to say, it went back to the library before I had the chance to polish it off. Better luck next time.

Atlas Shrugged awaits me next, and The Heart of Darkness isn’t far behind. Or perhaps The Chosen? It’s so hard to decide. The Sugar Addict’s Total Recovery Program will be nibbled on alongside those, and I’d really like to pick up The Gift of Fear.

My shelves are sagging. My brain is bursting.

Oh, how I love books.

Did I mention the gendered artistic sensibilities in my family?

Dad, Stephen and I went to see 300 this afternoon. Now, I’m not at all a fan of violence and I think gratuitous sex is distasteful, at best. But I was willing to forgive those depictions in order to appreciate some of the most breathtaking cinematography I have ever seen. It seems strange to say, but to my photographic eye the film was truly beautiful.

Stephen, on the other hand, upon leaving the theatre said, “Well…I wouldn’t see that again.”

Boys.

Or in this case, theirs.

The cats have been on a raw food diet for over a year now, with fantastic results. Their FLUTD completely cleared up. Their coats have become much softer and shinier. Their teeth are white, their breath is odorless (as are their poops!) and they’ve became much more lean and active.

But this past week, there was something ‘off’ about their chicken. They wouldn’t touch it. This is free-range, organically-fed, antibiotic-and-hormone-free human grade meat. Not cheap stuff, either. But they wouldn’t eat it. I became concerned after their second meal was left alone, not so much as a nibble. And I did what any (somewhat sane) pet mommy would do. I ditched the chicken and bought some fresh meat. After 36 hours of eating only chunks of dehydrated chicken, their special treats, they gladly sank their teeth into it.

I don’t know what it was about that batch that bothered them, but I knew enough to respect their instincts. Four cats can’t be wrong (especially when one *cough* Scully *cough* is such a food fiend).

It reminded me of last year’s food recall when several dogs died of liver failure due to a corn fungus in their food. A few owners told of their dogs’ reluctance to eat the food, how they turned their noses up until hunger drove them to eat it, and it was only in hindsight that they realized what their pets knew all along. I cannot imagine the grief and guilt I would feel if that were my dog.

And now again pets are dying. You do your best to protect them and yet in some twisted irony, that which is intended to sustain them – kills them. The recalls are spreading. I pray comfort to those who have lost their precious companions.

Without intending to sound smug, it does make me glad that I have such a large measure of oversight as to what my cats are eating. I know where it comes from and what happens to it along the way. Even when things go somewhat awry, their senses, honed after generations of carnivores, alert them. A lot of people think raw feeding is inherently dangerous. At the moment, I can’t think of anything that would be safer.

It’s Spring!And the cats just love to sit in the window, watching the robins on the lawn and smelling the changing season. The fresh air seems to have everybody revved up. This morning our neighbor’s horse, Calvin, was racing around his paddock, tail high and neighing happily.

Soon the Earth will rotate and the sunlight will hit the windows at just the right angle for that most favorite feline activity: sunbathing.

7:35 My alarm goes off and I crawl out of my loft bed and stumble toward the kitchen. I wash the few dishes that are in the sink, and fill a small bowl with hot water from the tap. I drop a large raw chicken thigh into the water to warm up.

7:40 I open Stephen’s door. “Mornin’, sunshine.” He moans and rolls over.

7:42 I remove the chicken from the water, put it on a plate and set it on the floor for the cats. Then, remembering the hairball that Stephanie hocked up yesterday, I also put out a small plate of olive oil. The cats love olive oil.

7:46 Feed the bunnies, and go back down the hall to Stephen’s room. “C’mon, bud, it’s time to get up.”

7:55 I contemplate next week’s menu as I sip a bottle of water. Stephen comes inside from bringing the garbage to the curb.

8:02 I quietly open Hannah’s door, lean over her bedside and ever-so-slightly rub her back. “Rise and shine, cutie pie. Want me to make some Postum?” She nods imperceptibly.

8:07 Hannah sips her Postum at the counter, eyes still foggy with sleep. Stephen makes Papa’s breakfast and brings it over to his apartment. I’m still trying to figure out what I need to get at the grocery store.

8:29 Stephen eats leftover meat muffins with ketchup for breakfast. The coffee machine gurgles and drips. I munch on an English muffin with butter and strawberry jam and marvel at how I’ve already been awake for an hour.

8:32 Dad comes home from a breakfast meeting; he, Stephen and I sit around the counter drinking coffee and tea, talking about life and faith.

8:57 Stephen sits down to start his schoolwork. He’s reading “Lost Woods” by Rachel Carson and “Scientific American’s Ask the Experts”. Later he’ll move on to World War I and consumer math. Hannah has to do math, Japanese grammar lessons and continue work on planning her garden. The kids together are doing a state project and I tell them to work on New Hampshire today. Hannah moans and sighs dramatically, then begins to repeatedly drop the paper punch on the tile counter. “Please put the paper punch away.”

9:00 I go to my room to grab the binder that holds our lesson plans, field trip information and other homelearning ideas. Hannah continues to bang the paper punch. I raise my voice slightly. “Put it away, Hannah.”

9:01 She’s still banging the punch. “Okay, if you can’t put it away then I’ll take it away.” She jerks it from my hand and storms off to her room. I count to ten.

9:02 I knock on Hannah’s door. I hear what sounds like an affirmative noise, but find that the doorknob is lock. “Hannah, we’ll start school at 9:15, okay?” More soft noises. “Okay.”

9:04 Check my e-mail and Bloglines.

9:16 I knock on Hannah’s door again. She opens it slowly and glares out. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s do some school.” She doesn’t seem enthused but comes anyway. We pick up Math Arcade where she left off yesterday. “Sorry, Em,” she says softly. “I’m in a grumpy mood today.” “I know, sweetie, that’s okay.”

9:24 Hannah asks for my help with some of the tougher multiplication problems, and Stephen wants to know if he can play after she’s done. “You know, you can transfer the links to your bookmarks.” “Well…” he says, “I don’t want to play them all the time.” “Don’t want to be a nerd?” “Pretty much.”

9:57 With the kids thoroughly engrossed in their studies, I go back to my room and get dressed for work.

10:13 Still having some time to spare before I leave, I wash the dishes while Stephen dries.

10:28 I gather the kids’ input on what shoes to wear before rushing out the door. “Be good! I’ll be back by 7:30, and Stephen, I’ll see you after youth group. Love you guys.” “Love you too! Drive safe!”

10:38 Somewhere on Rt. 9 I realize that I’ve forgotten to put on a slip, as well as forgotten my watch and my glasses. Oh well. The morning could have been worse…