Email Elizabethjackson ragdoll
Can You Hear The Sound When Your Cat Purrs?
There’s this cat in London who purrs as loud as a lawnmower. His name is Smokey. This cat purrs at 73 to 80 decibels. depending on which news report you read. If I had a cat like that, I’d kick him out of bed. Heck, I’d banish him to the garage. Or at the very least, I’d make sure I never petted him unless I wore earplugs.
Like all Sacramento real estate transactions are different, all cats purr differently. My cat who died December of 2010, Brandon, had a very loud purr. He used to sit on the bench near me at the breakfast table, and when we would have overnight company, our guests could not figure out where that sound came from in the morning. Brandon was content to just sit there and purr like a popcorn popper. I didn’t have to pet him to induce a purr. But he was no lawnmower.
Pica, our marbled ocicat — the throwaway nobody wanted because he wasn’t born with spots — he used to purr very softly. You could not hear him unless you glued your ear to the top of his head. His purr was so quiet it was almost a whisper. The sound was soft as his velvety coat, yet steady and long. He could purr for a good 30 minutes, especially while brushed. We had to euthanize Pica several years ago due to diabetes complications, but I still miss him everyday.
Pia, the cinnamon spotted ocicat, she also used to purr quietly but loud enough that I could hear her without smushing my ear into her body. I’d say her purr sounded like an electric razor. Sort of buzzy and raspy. She would purr for as long as she was stroked. Once I stopped petting her, she would stop purring almost immediately. She died from a sudden heart attack years ago. Scared the crap out of us. Who knew cats had heart attacks?
Jackson is a loud purring machine. He sounds like a coffee pot percolates. It’s a steady sound and tends to get louder as he gets closer to stopping. His purring, in fact, woke me up this morning. I must have rolled over or wiggled my toes or done something that made him realize there was life in the bed, and I wasn’t dead, because he was purring away like there is no tomorrow. I think he was just happy to see a live person.
Now Tessa, she is a nonstop. She is a manipulator, like most felines. She knows exactly what to do to get attention, or maybe we are just trained too well by her. If I ignore her while I’m working on my computer, she’ll plop herself in front of my monitor and stare at me. Then the purring starts. It’s like she’s saying, can’t you see how incredibly cute and adorable I am?
Thank goodness none of them purr loud enough to be mistaken for a vacuum cleaner.
While Elizabeth is visiting Pearl Harbor today, this is a reprint from 2011, previously published elsewhere.
Did You Know Ringworm is a Fungus?
Every four-legged creature in my house hates me, even though what we are doing is for their own darned good — kinda like when I have to explain to a seller why she needs to fix up her home to sell or when I have to tell a buyer’s agent that the bank says her buyer needs to pay more to buy that Sacramento short sale, and the reactions I receive. It’s a familiar feeling. I’m like that walnut in Plants vs. Zombies when you give it plant food, though. Holding power.
If you’ve never had to deal with ringworm, you’re fortunate. I was fortunate for 60-some years until a few weeks ago. The vet says our new Ocicat, who came from a breeder in Auburn, is most likely the carrier — but you know how small some people are; things like this, they would never own up to it unless we forced the issue, and it’s just not worth the hassle we’ve already got. Little Tessa is the only new thing in the house.
Ringworm is a fungus and not a worm, which is a fact I wish I did not have to know, but now that I do, I’ll share that bit of information with you. I first discovered it because I looked in the mirror a few weeks ago. Polka-dot city was all over my face. I looked like a kid with measles, only really large 1960’s type of polka dots, as though the ghost of Andy Warhol broke into the house and painted my face while I slept. Was counting my lucky stars, believe you me, that I have a dermatologist who could immediately see me and take care of this. But the cats take longer to clear up.
We had to wash every piece of cloth material in the house. Thank goodness we don’t have carpeting. We threw out all of their toys and scratching pads, thoroughly vacuumed and recovered the 3 cat condos (which we’ll eventually discard) and closed off the formal living area of our home from the rest of it. The Ragdoll, Jackson, who is most susceptible, has to live in a back bedroom and bath, while the other two Ocicats are isolated to the family room and kitchen.
All 3 cats receive terbinafine cream twice a day and pills once a day. The vet shaved their infected areas. The highlight of yesterday was giving all 3 cats a medicated bath. They are now bathed once a week. I have a lot of experience with bathing cats because I used to live in flea city on Balboa Peninsula in Newport Beach, so my poor husband is spared this chore and now must admit something good came out of living in Orange County. While all of this is going on, I’m talking on my Bluetooth to sellers from Elk Grove, Sacramento and West Sacramento who want to put their homes on the market this week and next.
It was like yesterday was the aftermath explosion from Thanksgiving dinners all over Sacramento, during which family members said, “Hey, you should sell that Sacramento home and call Elizabeth Weintraub.” I don’t have any other rationale for this sudden burst of listing activity. Good thing I can do a fairly decent job at multitasking and am organized.
As for the fungus, well, I’m almost wishing I had kids with nits.
