Bird alarms and Owls

The birds in our yard have been unsettled a lot this summer.

It's the robin who always starts it.  Robins seem like nervous types, always singing or tutting.  Tut-tut-tut, they'll start out.  Then:  Skeet-tut-tut-tut.  Then Skeet! Skeet!  Then SKEET! SKEET! SKEET!  That's how everyone--birds and people--can tell that something's up in the neighborhood.

The cardinals usually take up the alarm call next:  Chip.  Chip.  CHIP. CHIP.  Robins and cardinals flurry around in the edges of the trees, tails flicking.

When that happens, my curiosity is piqued.  I try to figure out what's bothering them.

It's usually not the kitty.  She doesn't scare the birds much, except for the wrens, who feed on the ground and occasionally are targets for her inept pounces.  She never catches them; they always get away and give her a good scolding.

This summer, many times the disturbance has been an owl.

Usually, I just catch a glimpse of one flying away after the bird ruckus has come to a crescendo.  But this weekend, we got a better look at not one, but a whole family of barred owls!

We've often heard barred owls calling to them since we've moved to this house in a wooded neighborhood. Many people know their "who cooks for you? who cooks for you all?" calls--I love to hear them in the middle of the night!  They also have a spookier call that they'll call back and forth to each other in courting season--"who-who-who-who-who-who HA!"  Robbie's not crazy about them--lots of times they're calling to each other from the white pines outside his bedroom window.

Friday night just before supper, I was on my way to the composter when I looked up and saw this owl staring at me from one of the trees at the back of the yard!

 I dropped my peelings and stood there, looking at him in amazement!  The songbirds had been making alarm calls, which were getting more and more frantic.  But the owl just sat there and looked at me.

It seemed lighter-colored than most barred owls I'd seen before; I figured it must be a juvenile.

I called everyone else out to look at the owl and then we discovered another one, just diagonally above the first.

I think this was the parent, maybe the Mom.  I figured this because the younger one looked at it expectantly.  "It's asking its mom 'what's the ETA on food?'" I told Robbie.

We sat outside to read the paper so we could hang out with the owls.  Even though they didn't do much, I could just look and look at them.  Their faces are mesmerizing--more like cats or people than like birds.

At one point, the younger owl walked up the branch. He looked like a little old man in low-crotch pants.

Later in the evening, we heard the mother owl calling out.  Just a few seconds later, a third owl flew in!  There was a scuttle in the branches, and it looked like the younger one was being fed.

We were thrilled to see two owls out there again today!  And Robbie was thrilled that they did not call during the night last night.

The Kitty and the vets

The kitty is sporting a new hairstyle--or maybe furstyle.

She got this fur trim when I took her to have an ultrasound last week.

Yes, an ultrasound.  And not at our usual vet--he doesn't have the equipment.

The ultrasound helped detect that Mitzi has some "masses" in her abdomen.  The ultrasound vet thinks they are swollen lymph nodes, the result of lymphoma, a kind of cancer.

Let me back up a bit.

When I took Mitzi to our vet for her rabies shot and annual boosters in May, our vet felt something odd in her abdomen. He thought it was an enlarged kidney, and seemed quite concerned.  He tested her urine, and didn't find any sign that it was kidney cancer, so he encouraged me to visit another vet with an ultrasound machine.

To tell the truth, I was very hesitant to do that.

Part of me just wanted to leave well enough alone.  The vet's initial discovery of something wrong came as a complete surprise, especially since Mitzi has never had any health issues. If I hadn't taken her in to the vet, I would have never known something was wrong--why should I continue to explore?

Also, Mitzi is just an animal.  Does she need expert health care? OK, Mitzi Mittens is our pet, which means that she has become more than "just an animal" to us. She lives with us; we know her and love her.  But still, I delayed.

OK, part of me was also in denial.  There's nothing wrong with my kitty, I thought to myself.

But after I returned from my June trip with the choir, I thought I might go ahead and get an ultrasound done.  It didn't require any sedation or discomfort for her, just some money.

And now, it looks like she has cancer.  Probably.  The other organs are (as of the date of the ultrasound) just fine, but the masses will probably get bigger.  The cancer will eventually spread.

So here's the question:  If you have a pet, you are responsible for your pet's health.  But what does that mean?  Providing a safe home, food and water?  Taking her in for a yearly checkup?  Treating diseases?  Taking her in for an ultrasound to figure out what's wrong?  And how invasive should a pet-owner be?

I met someone recently who loves her kitties. And she said that one has had 3 surgeries. Maybe that's the right thing to do, but to me, that seems hard--on the kitty and on the person.  But I don't know.  If surgery could "cure" Mitzi, would I have it done?

But that wasn't an issue in this case  . . .

You can't cure lymphoma like this in cats, but it can be treated, with steroids.  They cause the cancer to go into remission.  Temporarily.  So the vet encouraged me to give her Prednisone, 2x a day.  I started last night.

I kind of wish I didn't know about this. It's hard looking at her and knowing that her time is very limited--maybe 6 months, possibly a bit more or less.

 My other kitty, Emma, died suddenly of a heart attack.  No time to worry or feel bad, or wonder what I should put her through in terms of health care. With Mitzi, I'm thinking it will be steroids, then palliative care, and then at some point I'll have to make a decision about putting her down.

For now, though, I'm going to try my best not to think of that, and just enjoy her furry company.