Sick cat, snow day

February 01, 2026

Sick cat, snow day

2025 - Leo on Laundry

Howdy Friend,

It's been an interesting week, filled with job rejections, vet visits, and more winter weather (snow this time). This is going to be a long one with plenty of photos, so buckle up.

This evening I was chasing the sunset with my camera. Bundled up in my boiler suit, topped off with a cardinal red puffer and white knit hat, I decided to take a walk around the big pond, over the dam, and to the river trail. I was combing for what little patches of snow were left on the shaded sides of hills.

I traced the same path I walked yesterday, stopping at the dock to watch the water. On my walk yesterday, I had to pilfer some shop glasses from the garage in order to see; the wind was blowing the snow sideways, and I couldn't open my eyes because of it. Everything was covered in three inches of white, including the dock I stood on, and the pond was a dark oily evergreen in comparison. Birds were easy to spot in the scenery; there was a pair of Canadian geese, mallards, wood ducks, two red-headed woodpeckers the size of my forearm dancing up and down a rotted tree, and (what I believe to be) a kingfisher calling out rolling cackles as I walked past.

The dock

Tonight, only the wood ducks were in sight, slowly gliding away from me as I began to wade through underbrush and fallen leaves around the pond's edge (I was trying to avoid having to walk uphill). I eventually ran into a culvert and then a beaver's den.

I've known there's a beaver on the pond for a while. Whenever we siblings take our customary night walks to the dock, the beaver likes to swim around sporadically slapping its tail on the surface, trying to lure us away from its den (now I'll be able to stake out the den, perhaps get myself a beaver sighting).

There was plenty of snow on the wooded side of the dam, and because of it, I could see dog prints, multiple of them, but no human prints, and all leading down the path into the woods. It was fully sunset now, and the woods felt a little more foreboding. I had a feeling those dog prints were coyote. It's the dead of winter, they're probably cold and hungry, and while we've never had problems with coyotes since they're pretty timid, I didn't feel like finding out the hard way what a pack of hungry coyotes can do to a lone human in the woods at night, so I pivoted.

I chased the sunset uphill, glancing at it through the sparse treeline. The sky was a spilled crimson drifting up into clear periwinkle, and I knew by the time I crested the hill it would probably already be gone (it's a big hill, okay?) I was correct, of course, but there was still a hint of color, so I made my way over to the horse field and tried to salvage lost time. It was, however, a lost cause, and my camera didn't want to comply.

Two friends and the moon

Dejected, I turned towards home, only to find the largest full moon I've seen just brushing the tips of the trees behind me. Again, I tried to take photos of it, bothering the horses munching on a barrel of hay next to me. Again, my camera failed me. I took a good look, apologized to the horses, and walked home in the twilight, pausing every once in a while to enjoy how the moon illuminated the snow beneath my feet. As I passed the powerlines, woods on one side, the little pond to the other, I could hear some coyotes howling (probably at the moon, and who can blame them? I considered it too), but I knew I'd be fine. Home was winking at me across the pond, and I knew there was dinner waiting for me (Mom and Dad picked up pizza and curry).

On another note!

Thursday, I got back home from class, freshly rejected from a summer job in Oregon I'd applied for. My Mother sent me to the basement to check on the cat, who'd been acting lethargic after coming in from a jaunt outside. So I went downstairs with a bag of catnip treats and found Leo curled up on a chair and looking scruffy. I tried to lure him off the chair with a treat, but all he did was lift his head, and it had a wobble to it. That's when I knew something was horribly wrong. There's nothing in this world Leo loves more than catnip treats; he would go to any length to procure them (certified druggy). So we loaded him up into a carrier and drove through 5 o'clock traffic to the vet.

It's a good thing we did. As it turned out, Leo had a 104 degree fever and an infected abscess from an old wound on his belly we didn't even know was there to begin with. The vet ushered him into the back for surgery, and we left that night with a very loopy cat and plenty of antibiotics.

Leo sleeping + one of Rome's exit show paintings

Leo is making a quick recovery (I hide his antibiotics in his catnip treats). He's sporting an "Elizabethan collar" (don't ask me to explain), and has been receiving cuddles around the clock. I will continue to send updates about his condition.

Yesterdays snow day brought some levity to the house. I woke up late (after staying up until four, taking care of Leo), and was disoriented. I couldn't tell what time it was; the light drifting through my window was blue and diffused. Everyone was already up and out, hitting the sledding hills. I had some leftover biscuits and peach jam for breakfast (plus two cups of coffee), then went out for my snow walk.

The Chapel

Trying not to eat snow

When I came back, Dad needed me to pick up Luke, and I needed to pick up heavy whipping cream for hot chocolate, so I took the Kubota out for a rumble (I always like driving the Kubota since it's so loud and I can sing as loudly as I like without myself or anyone else hearing).

Hindsight

Speaking of hot chocolate, I thought I'd include my recipe since it gets a lot of compliments. It's not exact, or even that special, but it beats the powdered stuff.

Mary's Hot Chocolate (makes 5 cups)

Whole milk
A bar of chopped semisweet chocolate (or dark chocolate, but then you need to add sugar to the pot)
Two tea bags (I usually use Earl Grey, but this time I used a green spiced chai, which had some lavender in it. Just use any tea with a floral or citrus note to it)
A teaspoon of salt

Throw everything into a medium saucepan, stir, and simmer until ready.

Salted Honey Whipped Cream

Heavy whipping cream
Honey (however much you're feeling)
Two teaspoons or more of salt

I like to make the whipping cream pretty sweet and keep the hot chocolate bitter. Don't be afraid of adding a good amount of salt. If you add enough salt and honey, the whipped cream almost tastes like a floral salted caramel.

Cinnamon on the top

We did an hour of painting that evening (I think I might have ruined mine more than fixed it, but oh well), and then ended the night by watching Cuba and the Cameraman (2017).