Hummingbirds

I think they are hummingbirds, little brown ones who sing a lot. Ten days after putting out a bird feeder they finally showed up this morning. I was beginning to wonder about the whole bird feeder thing. How do they figure it out? Do they run surveillance for a little while to make sure that it’s not a trap run by ingenious felines? Were my sunflower seeds too stale after day one? Too soggy after the weekend rain? Had some bitchy food critic trashed us on opening day? Were there trendy dieters here in Hollywood for whom sunflower seeds were the new carbs?



No. For whatever reason they discovered it today. Then they started texting their friends, because all day long lots of them kept dropping by to munch. I’m pretty sure I even heard one say “Mira” as his three friends quickly swooped in for the spread. He would only give his first name as Paco and asked not to be photographed.

The past few months have been rough. The Veterinarian says that that my cat Boris has a swollen lymph node and IBD. Last night was another long one. The prescription food that he had been able to absorb only two weeks ago passed right through his thinning body. The formerly affectionately dubbed “Chubbers” did his best to make it to the box at least three times. I filled his bowl with fresh water afterwards so he could replenish his lost fluid. Sometime in the small hours I had an overdue cry as I wondered if this morning would be the one I’d have to bring him back to the Vet’s office for good.

I’m doing my best to prepare myself and being frank about the matter. I won’t use euphemisms like “putting him to sleep.” I’m clear that he won’t “wake up.” “Putting him to death” is a little harsh and “putting him down” isn’t really right either. It will come. I’m working up “Amazing Grace” with the simple hope that I’ll be able to play him from this world into the next with the sweetness of my harp. That theory assumes that I won’t be a total blubbering basket case when his time comes.

Fate spared him today. Dr. G. had jury duty. Not knowing what to feed him, I went to Whole Foods for the cleanest turkey I could find. My thinking is that if these are his last days, he’s not going to have to eat health cat food, something that I can only imagine to taste like cardboard if it’s anything like health people food. And with the sober awareness that he may not be here when it arrives next week, I placed a small order for venison. Research shows that it helps in some cases of IBD.



With the hummingbirds to visit on this mild sunny day, he and his brother Nicholas, who can’t figure out why they’re getting Christmas food at the end of May, seemed to have had a good time. Boris blew off his morning nap entirely, opting to spend the time excitedly watching the birds through the screen door, making that funny sound cats make when they see flying prey. For me, it was a gift to see him happy and lively and the two of them together and alive. Instead of retreating to my bedroom as has been his custom of late, he took his afternoon nap on the papasan chair in the brightly lit den where he could be close to those birds. It was good to see him in his usual napping spot. I can’t recall how many days or weeks it’s been since I saw him there. And this evening he rests on the new cable box. I think that he likes the heat from it. And while the thought of a round of his diarrhea into the Time Warner gadget concerns me a little, I don’t really care. He doesn’t like the heating pad and I just want him to be comfortable. We’re taking it one thing at a time. Thanks to whoever sent the hummingbirds.