Category Archives: Vazra Photos

Quality time

The Kids provide endless entertainment and companionship.  Unfortunately, being cats, they don’t always provide the best photographic opportunities.  I can’t tell them to sit and stay while I setup a prime shot.  I can’t let them run about the yard while I capture some magic moments.  In truth, they keep me on my toes when it comes to photographing them.

When we’re playing, it’s near impossible to snap photos while keeping them engaged.  I try, though.  What I wind up with most often are pictures of empty spaces, unrecognizable blurs, my own feet or hands, a wall or the ceiling, furniture, and anything else except cats.  Such is the curse of holding a toy with one hand as I hold the camera out and snap photos with the other.

When they’re playing on their own, I can sometimes get up and grab the camera for some snapshots.  Usually, however, they react to my movement by stopping what they’re doing and running to me for attention or a bit of personal play.  I try to keep the camera nearby for such moments, but that’s not always possible (busy doing chores or eating dinner are two examples that come to mind).

There is only one time when taking photos is simple: when they’re still (sleeping, grooming, etc.).

The next best opportunity is quality time.

Quality time for us happens as often as possible.  It’s nothing more complicated than me sitting or lying on the floor.  It draws them in like flies to honey.

We play.  We show love toward each other.  We focus on the pleasure of just being with one another.

But that represents another challenge.  It’s our quality time; I’m focused on them and they’re focused on me, so photography is nothing more than a byproduct when possible.

That there are seven of them also means my hands are full with making sure each of them receives their due affection.

Nevertheless, I find the happenstance photos from such moments often capture the wild spirits and loving souls that swim within each of these fur persons.

A close-up of Kazon as he looks at me (2008_12_27_003708)

Kazon.  What can I say?  He’s my baby.  When he realizes I’m occupying him surreptitiously in hopes of getting a picture worth the effort, he stops and looks at me with the adoration of a child.  He needs his love, his affection.  And he is a child, a big tomcat in stature with the mind of a juvenile who is always needy, always demanding of personal attention.

A close-up of Kako as she looks out the window (2008_12_27_003718)

Kako.  As independent as she is wanting of Daddy’s time, she proffers a mix of disdain and greed.  Sometimes I can’t get her off my shoulders long enough to breath; other times she smacks me around and lets me know I’m invading her personal space.  I love the bitch that dwells within this feline.  She is both distant and close all at once, a dichotomy that defines the spirit of all cats.

Larenti lying on the bed looking out the windows (2008_12_27_003720)

Larenti.  He is fear made flesh.  I always knew he was abused, for his fear of hands and sudden movements makes this clear.  Yet as much as he wants to engage the other felines, he fears them as much as he fears humans.  A bit of play quickly turns to panic, and a moment on my lap in purring contentment becomes fleeing apprehension when one of the other kids joins us and gets too close, rests against him, gets too near his personal space.  Ah, but he loves his time with me as much as he loves the rest of The Kids.  For a young cat, he still has time to realize the potential of the life I’ve given him.

A close-up of Vazra as he looks out the window (2008_12_27_003723)

Vazra.  He lives up to his name.  Simultaneously amiable and demanding, he is a true king of felines.  He demands things go his way, he demands no one else do what he does, and he demands everyone acquiesce to his needs and wants.  His physical presence, as beautiful as it is, represents a mere shadow of his personality, a big and bold being who loves with the utmost compassion as much as he expects me to answer his every demand.  He’s a mirror of my own soul…

A close-up of al-Zill as he looks at the camera (2008_12_27_003735)

al-Zill.  The neurological damage he suffered before I rescued him ensures he’s a special case in the xenogere homestead.  Affectionate with a purr that can shake dishes off the table, he’s also a child at heart who remains at odds with the disconnect between his brain and his body.  But how he loves the other cats!  As much as he loves me, I might add.  Watching him lie with Grendel as he grooms his older stepbrother warms my heart as much as it does when he pushes his way under the covers at night, when he races to claim my lap, when he follows me everywhere while continually rubbing against me, and when he gives me kisses—sometimes incessantly to the point of pain.

A close-up of Grendel as he looks at me (2008_12_27_003745)

Grendel.  A lifetime of ailments continues to take a toll on this alpha male.  He is Sponge, the cat who can never get enough petting, who can never spend enough time with me (although Kazon gives him a run for his money in that regard).  And while Grendel remains the chief of the watch, I myself lament seeing him weaken, seeing the tremors that plague him all the time now, seeing a great predator reduced to wisps of what once was.  He looks at me with frustration in this photo because I wanted him to pause long enough for a picture, yet I could only demand so much from him before I wept and held him and spoke to him with the utmost adoration.  His time is limited, something obvious by the continued downhill slide of his body.  So many memories wrapped up in this one cat whose flesh can no longer support the soul that made him master of our domain…

Although I tried also to grab a few pictures of Loki, all of them turned out as so much garbage.  He beat me profusely during this episode of quality time.  He ran about, punched me around, argued with me, and basically left me not one opportunity to immortalize his godliness within the digital confines of a photograph.  There will be other times, sure, but I’m sorely disappointed with myself for not being better prepared for his rambunctious and assaulting interaction with me.  For all the abuse I’ve taken from him over the years, I should have known better.

Cat is the new black

Kako the cat looking down at me from her perch (2008_12_17_002476)

The divine Ms. Kako.  Don’t let the soft look in her eyes fool you.  She is the epitome of feline superiority.  Either worship her majesty or suffer the blow of her mighty, terrible, claw-filled fist.  Not to mention the constant bitching that can drive a man to drink.

al-Zill the cat looking outside as he sits on a cat tree (2008_12_17_002500)

Spirited and childish al-Zill.  Clumsy and impish (or do I mean ‘gimpish’?), his innocent visage belies a devilish spirit that stirs up trouble in all the wrong places.  But he’s suffered much and has faced the truth of a lifelong battle with a mind and body severely disconnected from each other.  Still, he embodies a single thought: shit disturber.

Vazra the cat lying on the bed (2008_12_17_002514)

Vazra.  He is the master of his own domain.  The world revolves around him, or so he feels, and he hasn’t the time to let anyone think otherwise.  This feline gives life to a single premise: Do as I say and not as I do.

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The title is a nod to Mom and Dad who last year for Christmas gave me, among other things, a throw which states emphatically: “Everything looks better with cat hair on it.”  Try having seven inside-only cats without pondering that universal truth on a regular basis…

Size doesn’t matter

A close-up of Larenti (20080927_12938)

Larenti is the largest member of The Kids.  He also happens to be the most docile cat in the house, one who shrinks from most encounters and shuns confrontation.

I’ve always suspected his early years brought with them some kind of abuse given his fear of hands, and likewise I think the formative nature of growing up left him with a dread running through his every interaction and encounter with other creatures.  His size alone makes him a formidable presence; his personality strips away that advantage and replaces it with palpable cowardice.

A close-up of Vazra (200_0056)

Vazra, on the other hand, is a petite feline if one ignores the plush fur that doubles his size, yet he fears nothing.  With a devil-may-care attitude he does as he wishes sans any consideration for others, and he defends himself with vigilance and might.  Not that he’s violent, mind you, but he certainly puts up with no flack from anyone.

If he wants to lie somewhere, by golly he’s going to lie there no matter who he has to step on or smother in the process.  If he wants to get in my lap and it’s already occupied, he’ll gladly climb atop the current occupant in order to claim some bit of Daddy’s time and personal space.  Yet he has such a small frame that it’s easy to misjudge his weight when picking him up given that his hair makes him appear twice as large as he really is.  But he doesn’t let that get in the way of his confidence or demeanor.

A close-up of al-Zill (20080927_12963)

al-Zill remains a kitten at heart.  Young of body and mind, his rambunctious spirit crashes through most every second of the day.  He gleefully romps about without any concern for others, tackling the first cat to walk by, chasing anything that moves (and quite a bit that doesn’t move), confronting others in the cat boxes, taking random swings at others hoping to induce play, and otherwise being what a child should be: a meddlesome, troublesome bundle of energy.

While physically he is a relatively small cat with a wee bit of extra padding around the middle, like any juvenile he fears nothing.  When surprised, he flees to a safe distance until he understands the situation, but mostly he sees everything and everyone as a toy, and he lives every moment as though enjoyment lost then can never be regained.  And damn the consequences!

A close-up of Kako (20080825_11486)

The smallest fur person in the house, Kako most likely is the most powerful inhabitant of the xenogere homestead.  Being the lone female in a house full of boys means she has to make up with attitude what she lacks in size and strength.  And attitude she has in abundance.

Kako takes no crap from anyone, least of all me.  All I need do is point at her for doing something wrong and her ears go back as she takes a swing at my parental display (if not several swings).  If any of The Kids invade her space, she growls and howls and puts on a show that would make any reasonable person think she was being tortured.  When it comes to defending her own honor and safety, all of the cats know better than to mess with her.  Petite body notwithstanding, she’s a powerful force and a dangerous woman.  Besides, she also happens to be Daddy’s Girl, so she knows I’ll come to the rescue at the drop of a hat (not that I often need to, but she plays that card when necessary).

A close-up of Kazon (20080927_12946)

Kazon equals Larenti in size, except he doesn’t carry the extra weight.  He’s a lean jock, a large tom with a wide, powerful head that matches his considerable dimensions.  Although without a doubt the biggest baby in the house, my puppy who will never grown out of his childish mind, Kazon puts on the cloak of a big boy when the need arises.

I’m convinced he hasn’t a clue how big and powerful he is.  He still sometimes forgets about his own ass when he jumps up on furniture, leaving him hanging by his front claws while his back feet sway in the wind.  Nevertheless, he tries to assist with discipline from time to time and he dives into kitten-like mayhem without notice, and more often than not it’s his overwhelming size that wins the day.  (In most cases, he simply crashes on top of his playmate in order to win.)

A close-up of Loki (20081005_13451)

Despite age and asthma, Loki remains a menacing feline.  While it goes without saying that he is physically powerful and agile, his dominance stems more from his mind than his body.  He is a plotter and planner, one who carefully and quickly thinks through every action to ensure he manipulates events to his liking.  Though not always the winner at play—or even getting the resting spot he wants most—Loki represents one of the most dangerous things in the universe: a predator with a sharp mind and the physical power to back it up.

Loki is a hazardous foe because he has the potent body of a true killer, but he is even more dangerous because he has the one tool that can win over brawn every single time: a developed intellect that is as keen as it is cunning.  Even as the years have begun slowing him down and even as acute asthma has made him want for breath in the midst of trouble, he wields forethought like a sword.  This has made him the true god of mischief.

A close-up of Grendel (204_0487)

My sickly baby.  Grendel has spent his entire life dealing with one ailment after another: arthritic bone spurs in his hips, acute asthma, stones in his kidneys and bladder, and an immune system that now attacks his own intestines.  From his first year he battled ailment after ailment, yet he remained the alpha of the clan.  Large enough to throw his weight around, thoughtful enough to know that one cannot rule by violence alone, strong enough to put his foot down when needed, and smart enough to let others have their way from time to time, Grendel epitomizes the best kind strength: the gentle kind.

Illness and years have robbed him of much of his potency.  He lost enough weight such that he can no longer whip up on others to keep them in line.  But he tries, and many times he succeeds; but more often than not he prefers to stay out of the fray.  How I miss his casual enforcement of his rights, barely lifting from a resting position to knock away those who would steal his bed.  How I miss the confidence that once dripped from his every move.  Yet what disease and time have stolen from him I give back by proxy.  Grendel will be the alpha until he dies; the others know this and respect it, even if I have to make sure they don’t push him too far.

Familiars

Loki taking a nap on top of me (163_6310)

Despite his worsening asthma, Loki remains a devilishly spry cat for his age.  Both he and Grendel will be twelve years old in February 2009.  That’s the human equivalent of being 65 years old.

I see age beginning to slow down The Great Satan, however, and I see asthma taking its toll as well.  His plotting, scheming, conniving ways have been subdued of late, less vile than they were some years ago.  He still conspires to perpetrate evil at every opportunity, mind you, but his body no longer can support the near constant malevolence he once visited upon the world.

A close-up of Kazon in soft, natural light (205_0564)

Kazon remains on a powerful regimen of antibiotics and steroids in an attempt to subdue his out-of-control immune system that seems intent on harming his own body.  As ill as he was when I rescued him in the first few months of his life, it now appears that the terrible childhood he suffered has finally come back to haunt him.

Now a full ten years old in human terms, his own species would equate that age with being in his mid to late fifties.  I see how growing older brings old ghosts out of the shadows and into focus.  Yet he remains my Baby Boy, my Puppy, the one member of The Kids who I know could not survive without me.  His emotional attachment to me is of such profound energy that it becomes palpable each and every day.

A close-up of Grendel as he glances away (20080419_04126)

My high-maintenance cat, Grendel has suffered throughout his life with one ailment after another.  From bone spurs in his hips to acute asthma to inflammatory bowel disorder (an immune system dysfunction) to kidney and bladder stones, Sponge always has made it through a difficult life with the grandest composure and perseverance.  He remains to this day a proud, capable, fearless companion.

Yet as I always discuss with the vets, time proves over and over again that the next shoe will eventually fall, and we saw that next problem begin just a few months ago.  With alarming weight loss and the onset of tremors, a lifetime of steroid use appears to have finally caught up with him.  All examinations and tests indicate his shaking stems from neurological damage; one vet likened it to the appearance of Alzheimer’s disease.  His age will not help this latest affliction, nor will his waning strength allow him to adjust as easily.  Even today I saw him struggle to leap from the cat castle to the desk where he might enjoy a refreshing bit of ice water from my glass.  The hesitation he now shows breaks my heart.

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More than twelve human years old, placing him near 70 feline years old, Vazra recovered from near death and shows a youthful exuberance for life that dwarfs the survival instinct of many humans.  His poor dental health two years ago spelled certain doom for him, what with it keeping him from eating and drinking and grooming, yet removing seven teeth gave him a new lease on life.  He took his rescue in stride, quickly making himself at home with The Kids as a member of the family, and he demonstrates an unequaled ability to disregard hardship in favor of getting through just one more day.

As the oldest member of the family, I look at him now compared to when I rescued him and think about what might have happened had I not intervened.  More importantly, I wonder about his health as he grows older.  But those concerns aside, this Persian offers unconditional love and gratitude at every opportunity, and his newfound health and vitality bring joy to my heart every time I look at him and remember what might have been.

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My Lion.  Only six human years/40 feline years old, Larenti lives in a perpetual state of discovery, fear and timidity.  He is the largest cat in the house, yet he also is the most afraid.  Slowly he has shown increasing comfort; nevertheless, the unending reservoir from which he draws fright at even the smallest surprise continually worries me.  Some horrific tragedy befell this poor soul before I rescued him.  I only hope he remains on this path to overcoming that anxiety.

Larenti’s young age and juvenile spirit lend themselves to a good deal of energy and mischief.  I laugh heartily when I see him play, when I see him stir up trouble by stalking someone in one of the litter boxes, or when I recognize his purring request for attention each night as he leaps atop the bed to join us for a spot of sleep.  I trust he has many years left to travel, many days of quality and joy and comfort.

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al-Zill is a child.  Scarcely more than two years old, his feline age of 24 means he remains immature, rambunctious, meddlesome.  I affectionately chastise him continuously for getting into trouble, whether it be destroying an entire package of toilet paper under the bathroom counter or endlessly trying to engage one of the other children in rough horseplay.  Yet such things are to be expected from someone so young, especially someone with neurological damage as severe as his.

There are times when I forget about al-Zill’s mental incapacity; he leaps and runs and plays with rugged determination.  Then there are times when that now invisible head wound becomes apparent: he still shows instability when I pick him up and set him down, his body convulses from time to time when he tries to run or leap or scratch a difficult-to-reach spot, and a simple shake of his head can throw him to the ground as though struck by some invisible force.  However, he’s young enough to adapt, something he’s doing quite well already, and a full life stretches out before him so long as he remains in a safe place that can accommodate his special needs.

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Like her brother Kazon, Kako has reached her mid to late fifties in terms of feline years, although her bad health early in life does not seem to have affected her quite so severely.  Sure, she has a perpetual problem with her ears due to the mite infestation she had way back then, but medication every month or two clears that up and leaves her ready to tackle the world.  And tackle the world she does.

Yet being a bitch is not all this Lady has to hold on to; she is, after all, Daddy’s Girl, and she claims that which only she can claim: being the sole female in the house.  When I’m not home, she spends a great deal of time with Grendel, her man, but she’s all mine if I’m available.  I see age taking from her little by little the energy she once had.  This has in no way stopped her from ruling the roost.  She proffers horrific cries when someone invades her personal space even if they don’t come within arm’s length of her; she defends her gentlemen (Grendel and I) with a fierceness unrivaled by great white sharks on the hunt; and she embodies the universal truth of no home needing more than one female cat, no kingdom requiring more than One Queen to Rule Them All.  I think it’s her female superiority that keeps her from showing her age more than she does.  I wonder how long she can keep up that dichotomy…

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Henry lived almost 22 human years—104 feline years—before his body stopped living up to his spirit’s expectations.  Only in the last months of his life did age catch up with the immortal soul of a god that dwelled within his flesh.

Very much unlike the current members of The Kids, I did not bathe Henry in perpetual health care for every little infirmity, every little hiccup in the natural order of things.  Instead, I focused on his happiness, watched him closely and did what I thought best for each problem as it cropped up, and in the end I found myself justified in the approach that favored quality over quantity without delving endlessly into unneeded, unnecessary, unjustified meddling by veterinary professionals.

Looking back on life at this moment, I question my present methodology with regards to my children…

Methinks the time has come for a serious examination of care, an unquestioned scrutiny of how I deal with The Kids and their well-being.  Although I would dare not second-guess myself with regards to critical action in a time of need, I’m left wondering if my efforts, like so much human health-care that lends itself to more suffering and hardship, have made life more difficult for these cats who look to me for wisdom in cases where they cannot offer as much.