The Cat That Ate Croissants

This one's a repost from FB Notes. Original is by Subroto Bhattacharya, my uncle (my father's first cousin). With his permission of course. I should have probably asked Miss Fuzzball's permission instead but she isn't on Facebook!!!

The Cat that ate Croissants

September 18, 2013 at 9:14am

Well, I ain't always right but I've never been wrong.

Seldom turns out the way it does in a song.

Once in a while you get shown the light

In the strangest of places if you look at it right.

My eldest, the philosopher has insomnia. We had always suspected this was the case, but being laid back parents we felt we could sleep on it a while and only address the issue if it got out of hand. He has a room on the very top floor of the house and his door is almost permanently locked. We found it easier to just let him be, as long as he did his academic work reasonably and did not get into trouble.

Well, this summer we found out in a very unexpected way that he does have insomnia that is pretty noticeable. He was involved in a motor vehicle accident and for two weeks had a pair of very sore knees that prevented him from climbing up the three flights of stairs to get to his room. For the time, he slept on the sofa in the family room and I slept on the adjacent sofa to be sure that if he needed anything during the night, I was right there to get it for him.

Our two cats are sisters from the same litter. Indoor cats that are ten years old, they are as different from each other as chalk and cheese both in size, weight as well as personalities. However, they can both sense when something is not quite right, especially with our philosopher. You see, Miss Fuzzball, the skinnier one, absolutely WORSHIPS my son. We firmly believe that she is really a dog masquerading inside of a cat’s body! 

While Miss Furry, is the fat slothful one who loves to sit on the sofa and watch TV while having a warm body (any warm body) next to her to cuddle too, Miss Fuzzball has eyes just for my son. She would sit like a sphinx (since he locked his door to keep her out) outside of his room all day until he came back from school. Once he did, she would follow him wherever he went. There was no mewing or pawing or vocal token of her love. She was just glad to have him back and be his shadow. For his part, he accepted her adoration with a naturalness that we slowly realized was what was so endearing about him. He was a natural through and through. He would never perform to please you, nor fake it for the limelight. 

On the rare occasion that he left his door open she would climb up and sleep on him when she could. Early mornings, when I woke him up for school, I would find her curled on his back looking at me with the “don’t you DARE disturb him!” look. Well, this summer, when he was injured, Miss Fuzzball hung around him and often got in the way in an annoying sort of way. I sighed and gently pushed her away every time she tried to get on top of him. Not surprising, I thought, seeing that the last year we have had ALL kinds of issues with Miss. Fuzzy.

Last year Miss Fuzzball lost almost two pounds in weight. We wondered what was wrong but came to no real conclusions. And then it all got stranger. The cat, that was much less selfish and food obsessed than her sister, started climbing up on counter tops and eating human food! Now that really got us all worked up, perhaps not so much for the cat’s benefit as for concerns for our own safety and hygiene. What I did not remember is that last year my son left home to go to college.

And so Miss Fuzzball was packed into a carrier and off we went to the vet, who interestingly was Dr. Bird at the Feline Hospital in Salem! I simply adored this woman. She had an instinctive understanding of animals and came across almost like a cat magician! 

With a variety of needles stuck in a variety of places, blood and urine samples were drawn, that all came back normal! But in the course of the exam Dr. Bird asked if the cat had shown a preference to any particular type of food. I thought about this and did have an answer – Croissants and Pasta! She would sniff around other things surreptitiously on the counter top but these two things were the things she really loved.

After an entire year of dealing with this we got a little fed up with it all. But it all changed when my son was injured. The cat just wanted to be close to him and I, afraid that she might hurt him who was already hurt by car and long board, pushed her away in some exasperation. In the month that he took to heal from the initial worst of the injuries, I totally ignored the cat which, now that I recall, still hung around although at a more respectable distance, now that she knew my lowered tolerance for her behavior. Strange, isn’t it, how animals understand unspoken language so much faster than humans do??

Well, he went off the college the same week that the cat went back for her physical and rabies shots. This time, my niece accompanied me to the vet and since Miss Fuzzy had lost more weight, we went through the routine of the expensive blood tests yet again. Not expecting any new answers, I asked the vet that we saw, Dr. Ternes, why Fuzzy would eat pasta and croissants. She looked up and said “Looks like that is what your son fed her. Now that he is not here, it’s one way for her to connect with him”

I left the vet’s office quietly. I was simply blown away. In twenty seconds, this woman who worked with cats all her life had easily pointed out the answers that were right under my nose!! How could I have NOT seen it?? Of course I realized now, why Miss Fuzzy ate pasta and croissants. She must have accompanied my insomniac philosopher downstairs to the kitchen on many a late night while we were fast asleep and he must have fed her a few scraps of whatever he was snacking on at the time. And I do know for a fact that my philosopher loved croissants!

What I had not noticed was her pining at my son leaving home and going off to college. Her behavior, her loss of weight, her trying to eat what my son must have surreptitiously fed her was seen by me as annoying behavior (that had cost a fortune in expensive blood tests) without realizing the love and devotion even a cat could have. How could I have been so blind??

The more I thought about it the more I could understand why I had not seen Fuzzball’s behavior for what it really was. We can sometimes be SO wrong in reading emotion. There are those who do not indulge in drama, those that are stoic and those that hate sharing their feelings and they are the ones that are often thought of to be cold, distant and unfeeling. Little do we know how loyal their love and devotion can be and how quick we are to judge, simply because their hearts are not worn on their sleeves (or paws for that matter)

The other piece of this puzzle is the fact that we tend to believe that our own emotions are more intense, more credible and need more attention than anybody else’s. Little wonder that this is one of the foundations of disagreements when relationships fall apart. People tend to be so caught up in their own feelings and emotions, they have little time or desire to acknowledge, let alone understand how the other person feels. And when we read the other person wrong, so much of what we feel is based on false perception or sadly even hearsay. I know it was with me. I was so caught up in my own fears and anxieties that I stopped to even consider that a cat could have just as much love for my son as I did and I had taken the strange expression of her love and devotion as nothing more than annoying behavior.

It is easy to love and admire the beautiful and the perfect but it takes a deeper understanding to love and respect the strange, the bizarre and the annoying. But if you look deeper into these behaviors you may be surprised by the depth of feeling and the constancy of purpose carefully hidden away. I reached home and let Miss Fuzzy out of her travel cage, getting her some kitty treats for being such a patient traveler. I looked into those inscrutable green eyes and envied the love that she had for my son while a part of me was embarrassed at my doubting it in the first place

Standing there in the kitchen it was as if I was seeing a new cat for the first time. Fuzzy must have sensed what I was thinking  for she came up to rub around my legs. In my heart I silently thanked her for her love for my son and the lesson that she had taught me today

Although I still wish she would not climb up on countertops and eat croissants to be the teacher that she was

Just sayin’………..

Change

‘Ring out the old, Ring in the new’! That’s the theme of our lives of late. New developments in all our lives. But change isn’t easy. And doesn’t happen at one go. There’s no ‘new’ pushing out the ‘old’ in one go. Sometimes there is no pushing out at all. Both co-exist and that is even crazier!

I’m in Delhi for the seven-week training of my new job. Which is exciting, especially since the work is something entirely new and different from anything that I’ve done in the past. I’m really looking forward to this job. Maybe this is what I’ve been looking for. Jobs are like life partners that way—you want ‘the one’ but sometimes settle for something that isn’t because that is what you can get. Maybe this new job is my ‘one’. Who knows? My other ‘one’ is busy with his own new changes and challenges in the meantime.

He’s not run the household for years but he has to do that now along with handling the increasing workload at his office. Tough balancing act. I’m so proud of my man! If there’s anyone who can do it, it is he. But it can’t be easy I know. And strange things keep happening. And the boys just keep falling ill by turns. Pippin is still under medication for urine infections. We are all of us sick and tired of the boys suffering from urine infections. If only we could figure out how to make them drink more water and get some exercise so they’d lose weight!

Talking of weight, I just hope I’m not putting on any more. I’m not doing any housework here. And getting food thrice a day. And pretty decent food (at least the food at the guest house where I’m staying is quite good) does tend to accumulate in all the wrong places. But I am digressing. I need to read the magazine on obesity in cats and make a plan for my boys. But I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Besides, even if I manage to do that, I don’t think my husband and the new ‘nanny’ for my babies (I had to get one. I couldn’t stay away from home for seven weeks without that arrangement in place. She’s full time and does other housework as well.) can handle it just yet. Because he is overwhelmed with work. And she keeps falling ill. I’m just hoping and praying that it isn’t anything serious because what will I do if she goes home??? (I must remember not to panic, like I’m on the verge of right now, until something actually happens.)

I’m rambling but that’s not unusual considering that I’ve been up since 6 am. Yes, that’s right. 6 am. I’ve been getting up early so that I can stay on top of the work that I have to do for the training. It’s a rigorous schedule and though I’m not getting enough sleep most nights, the hard work is the only thing that stands between me and the pain of separation from my family. I hardly miss them too much during the weekdays. The weekend is a different matter. I’m hating the weekends. Probably for the first time in my life. And I’ve had a nightmare about Eva. I’m missing them all so, so much!

Still, it’s all for a better future. For everyone. For now, though, my personal wishlist reads like ‘thirteen impossible things before breakfast’. 1) My boys get better and don’t fall ill again. 2) My boys get to their ideal weight and maintain it. 3) I complete my training with flying colours. 4) My husband... (well, that one’s a secret). 5) Eva becomes friends with her brothers and they all live in harmony (they haven’t adjusted yet). 6) My ‘nanny’ gets better very soon and stays on. It’s not thirteen items long but even this modest list seems overwhelming. But like I stated before, change is not easy. I’m still just hoping that in my life, finally, it is for the better!

A Daughter This Time

I have not posted anything in a long time because my boys were going through a long spell of illness and I did not feel like writing about them under the circumstances. But something has happened to shake me out of my self-imposed lethargy. I have acquired a daughter!

On the 21^st of July, I heard plaintive crying in the landing outside my house. Assuming that the cat sitting there belonged to my 2^nd floor neighbour, who is the only one besides us in the building who has a cat, I went to enquire if she had lost her cat. No, she said, her cat was quite un-lost. Feeling sorry for the stray, we tried to give it away but found no one even remotely interested. Unwilling to leave her to the mercy of the world, I took her in hoping that one of the NGOs working with strays would be able to help.

That did not happen. They were all quite unhelpful despite all that they say in their ads. One lady I talked to was rude in the extreme and all she cared about was getting the cat spayed irrespective of the risk to her health or life. By then I had made up my mind. I would keep her. That evening we took her to our vet. He examined her and pronounced her healthy. The spaying, he declared after examination, would not be risky. I would have to care for her for a week to allow for her recovery. Since I had already decided to keep her, this was not a big concern. She had her surgery on the 24^th. She is quite all right now. She plays and runs and jumps and puffs up to twice her size upon sensing my boys on the other side of the closed door before greeting them with growls, hisses and yowls of anger.

It hasn’t been easy. Not by a long stretch. She is slowly adjusting to her new life, which is diametrically opposite to her previous one. She hasn’t yet adjusted to my boys and they have to be carefully kept apart. She is forever hungry, it seems, and hasn’t yet come to terms with the fact that food will not be scarce any more. She is very sweet, friendly and affectionate but suddenly gets agitated and aggressive even without provocation. She has been dewormed but her other vaccines are still due. It will be a challenge to remain patient and affectionate with her given that she now reigns over one of the bedrooms almost the entire day. Our boys have been great sports, accepting her and the changes that have come along with her. They have been trying hard to make friends though success is still far. I couldn’t ask for more cooperative boys.

I have named her Eva. Those who have seen ‘WALL-E’ will understand why. She really is sweet and affectionate. She is this thin, small thing with a tail that seems to reach from here to the moon! She is intelligent and has already developed some good habits. She wears her colourful collar with the red bell quite coolly. This by no means proves that I have belled the cat, though! It has been only ten days since I found her out in the corridor. There is a long and hard path ahead for all of us—humans and cats alike. Here’s hoping for the best!

What Happened o Mr. Roach?

Mr. Roach was last seen alive on the night of the 5^th of April in the year 2013. He had just left his residence and had started going about his business when he was beset by four of his deadliest enemies. They worked in tandem to capture and assassinate him. He fled for his life, using the utmost skill to dodge his foes and to escape with his life. When I saw him, he was in terrible danger, almost overcome by one of his fatal enemies. He was running helter-skelter, leaping here and there and generally making desperate efforts to flee or hide.

I tried to help him; it did not work. He did not understand that my efforts were targeted at a rescue; he fled from me until I could no longer be of any service. He ran into the dark, narrow crevice where neither his enemies nor I could touch him. Perhaps he hoped that he had finally cheated death. Perhaps he just wanted to rest before making a final dash for liberty. Who knows? I could not wait around for him to emerge. I had done what I could. His fate was out of my hands now. I left, while his assailants sat down nearby, unable to follow him but still hungry for his blood and willing to wait.

Next morning, I saw a part of one of his legs being carried away by ants in the bedroom. Another part of a leg was found under the living room window. I had no idea where the rest of him was, though it was all too clear what had happened. I could surmise that he must have gotten tired of waiting and, thinking that the coast was clear or even knowing that it wasn’t and too desperate to wait further, he had made a mad dash to freedom. And had failed. I do not know which of his foes dealt the final blow or when. I was, however, curious to know what had happened to his body. Even a thorough search failed to uncover the corpse. It was a mystery.

Hours later, close to midnight, I learn that his body had been found by my husband that morning. It had already been too late by then. My husband had disposed off his body. That was why I had failed to find any traces of him besides the two torn fragments of his legs. The mystery was solved. I felt sorry but I could not reproach myself with his death; I had done all that I could have done.

RIP Mr. Roach, Mr. Cock Roach.

Happy Bath Day 2

This one is about a few pointers for giving baths to cats. I am no expert but these are things that I have figured out from my own experience. There are three stages: Pre, During and Post.

Pre-bath:

1.       Clean the bathroom and especially the area where the cat is to be given the bath.

2.       Clean the entire house since the cat will run round after the bath.

3.       Have everything ready and in place for action before you even bring the cat into the bathroom. Once operation kitty bathing starts, there will be no time to stop and make arrangements.

4.       Make sure that the weather is not too cold or wet or the cat might fall ill.

5.       Be prepared mentally and otherwise to take a bath right after giving the cat(s) one. Reason? You will HAVE to. The odds of your remaining dry after the cat is done with its bath are heavily against.

During bath:

1.       Have a strategy suited to the particular cat’s needs; if it is shouts more, like Merry, don’t start with it; if it is strong, like Pippin, don’t wait till the end because you might be tired; if it doesn’t mind the water too much, like Sam, you might want to start with it; if it is easy to manage, like Frodo, and you are tired, you might want to wind up the process with it.

2.       Act fast, act efficiently. No dillydallying.

3.       Remember that the chances of the cat becoming more aggressive in its efforts to escape are higher after you have applied the shampoo. It is one of those things like Murphy’s law, I think.

4.       Towels! Big, fluffy ones, preferably. Wrap the cat in it and rub him quickly but gently so that you can get most of the water out. You DO NOT want a dripping cat running amok all over your house.

5.       Reinforcements, if possible. It is extremely difficult to give a bath to a reluctant cat single-handed!

Post-bath:

1.       Make sure that the cat is comfortable and not sitting in a place where it can catch a cold.

2.       Have your own bath, since you will be dripping in all likelihood.

3.       Clean up the bathing area of the cat(s) and wash everything.

4.       Be ready to groom your cats, especially those who are not very enthusiastic about grooming themselves.

5.       Feed your cats something they like soon after they are a little soothed, so that they can calm down faster.

Let me just end with a couple of quotes about cats and baths.

Cat lovers can readily be identified. Their clothes always look old and well used. Their sheets look like bath towels and their bath look like a collection of knitting mistakes.

Eric Gurney How to Live with a Calculating Cat (Courtesy of www.catquotes.com)

Cat bathing is a martial art.

Anonymous (Courtesy of http://user.xmission.com/~emailbox/cattags.htm)

Happy bath day to all of you and your cats!

Happy Bath Day

Cats, as everyone who knows anything about cats can tell, do not like baths. As a rule, they feel very strongly about hygiene and are usually quite clean through their grooming efforts. However, they do need to be given baths once in a while due to reasons of cleanliness and skin health as well as the heat during summer. My boys received their first bath of the season and, indeed, of the year, a few days back. As always, each of them reacts differently to the bath, their responses ranging from slightly neurotic to completely psychotic. Below I will describe the four types of reactions; let’s see if you can guess who fits the reaction: Frodo, Sam, Merry or Pippin. Write your answers in Comments.

1.       He doesn’t mind the water too much and even though his eyes grow as round as saucers, like the dog in the tinderbox story, he doesn’t really struggle too much until after the shampoo has been lathered onto him.  Even when he thrashes about to escape, he does not shout too loudly. However, if one isn’t very careful, he can quickly slip away from one’s hand. He is really clever about that. If he is in a bad mood, he might bite also, though not hard. He does not lick himself for quite some time and lets the water dry on its own.

2.       He is not easy to bathe because he is very strong. He does shout and struggle but not too unmanageably. His bath takes the longest because he is usually the dirtiest. It is really quite a fight to get him to stick around until the bath is done. He kisses us a lot to persuade us to let him go. When he feels really determined to escape, one person cannot hold on single-handedly. He prefers to groom his brothers to help them dry rather than groom himself. He also might get soot or cobwebs on his face and coat within half an hour after the bath.

3.       He is the easiest to manage because he does not shout too much or fight too hard. He does struggle to some extent, though, and kisses us a lot. He is actually one of the easiest to give a bath to though he does not like it at all. He usually goes last because he is the easiest to handle and after the other three we are too tired to really fight a cat trying to run away with shampoo smeared all over. The best part is that he is very meticulous about drying himself off. Even if he is the last to be given a bath, he will invariably be the first to dry off.

4.       He is the worst! Not because he struggles very hard, which is manageable, but because he absolutely hollers his head off! To hear him one would think that he was being tortured with hot pokers or something from a hall of horrors. He just hates being given a bath and minces no words (or meows, rather) to express that. By the time he is done, we feel completely exhausted. He also spooks the others with his howling, so we don’t usually start with him. He, again, does not lick himself dry, though he has the softest coat of the four.

So, that’s that about the four. In the next post, I will write a bit more about the bath question. For now, enjoy guessing! And here are some pictures. The first one is of them as kits. It was taken when we had visited Kolkata in 2010. The rest are from the latest bathing session.

ALL TOGETHER AT KOLKATA

MERRY

FRODO

PIPPIN

SAM

A Parent's Worst Nightmare

The worst nightmare for a parent is something bad happening to their child. Literally as well as metaphorically, there is no worse nightmare. And in this post I am referring not to the literal nightmares that my husband and I have had on account of our boys (God knows we have our fair share of those!) but the metaphorical ones.

In my last post I mentioned that my boys had a rough patch health-wise. That happened last month. It started at the end of January with Sam throwing up a few times. Then Pippin threw up all night the next day. We took them both to a vet who examined and declared that there was nothing wrong with them. Pippin continued to vomit all night that evening onwards, again. I called their old vet who had been on leave following childbirth. She had resumed her practice and was kind enough to see him after midnight. She gave him some injections to control his vomiting and also some antibiotics and some medicines to be given orally. That night Frodo threw up once.

The next day wasn’t pleasant since Pippin threw up every time we tried to give him medicines orally. By late evening he had stopped eating or drinking. I finally called our family veterinarian in Kolkata that night for advice. She suggested that we put him on drip immediately. However, it was late on Sunday night and no such facility was available. We had no choice but to wait till morning. Thankfully, Pippin did not vomit any more that night, probably because he had had nothing for quite some time.

The next day we took him to the vet recommended for giving the drip. We had consulted him earlier at one time but had changed vets of late due to the distance (his clinic is 15 kilometres) from my house. He suspected Pancreatitis or something similar and started Pippin on drips, antibiotics, vitamin B complex and other necessary medicines. We gave him 4-5 rounds of that. We also gave him medicines orally. Thankfully, he stopped vomiting soon after the drips started. But it took days for him to regain his appetite.

In the meantime, we had their blood tested. Their urea, creatinine and other parameters were all awry, so we started them on a renal diet. We also started giving all of them a medicine to bring down urea. Frodo, because he vomited once more, also had to take medicine for that. Once all that was done with, we gave all of them liver medicine for 15 days since liver profiles hadn’t turned out too sanguine either.

In the meantime, Pippin started peeing on our bed. Now, that might seem like a misdemeanour. But those who have lived with cats know that errant peeing behaviour is more likely to be a sign of health problems or stress than behavioural issues. Consequently, we got an USG done. The USG showed some mineralization in his right kidney and some possible crystals in his bladder. My husband—his ingenuity be praised—also collected urine samples for three of the boys. Merry’s could not be collected on time to submit at the lab. The tests showed crystals in two of the samples. So now they are on a special Urinary diet. This diet will continue for a while.

In addition to diet control, we also placed a plastic sheet on the bed and covered it with a newspaper sheet so that if Pippin peed on the bed, the sheets wouldn’t get soiled. Funnily enough, the plastic sheet has now become the playground for all my boys! We also started discouraging such behaviour and encouraging Pippin to pee in the right place by talking to him. Surprisingly, it worked. Even before the special diet was started, Pippin resumed correct urinary behaviour. He now pees (and poops!) on command, subject to there being anything to egest.

As I read the last paragraph, I realise that only an avid cat lover would understand and appreciate it. So, if you find that paragraph or even the whole post or that I can go on and on about such bodily functions uncomfortable, silly or downright insane, I will totally understand.

Those days have been easier to write about than to live through. Words cannot fully capture the anxiety, the pain and the stress we all went through—all six of us. They are all much better now. A second round of blood tests has shown good improvement in Pippin and we have extrapolated that result for the others as well. But their worms are acting up since we could not deworm them on time due to the above-mentioned health complications. The heat is also bothering them. Merry is getting a little depressed due to his father’s unusually busy schedule at work. Like any good parent will tell you, worrying is part of the job description and the list of things to worry never ends!

Here are a couple of pictures from those days. One is of them with their new ‘playground’ and the other is of Pippin in the car on the way to the vet’s. He was going for the USG that day.

The New Playground

Pippin in the Car

A New Family Member

The family that prays together, stays together. Or so the saying goes. I believe that the family that faces good and bad times together without killing each other is the one that stays together. My extended family has gone through some pretty dramatic ups and downs in recent times. Since the last time I wrote on this blog, I have lost my mother, my brother has had a son, and my boys have gone through a rough patch health-wise (more on that later), among other things. I’m going to write about the second thing today. My nephew.

My nephew has been on this earth for close to two months now and he already has multiple names. That is typical of us Bengalis. We have at least two names each- a ‘bhalo’ or ‘good’ name (which is why you find many Bengalis asking people for their ‘good’ name, as if there is a ‘bad’ name as well!!!) and a ‘daak’ or ‘pet’ name. Sometimes, it’s difficult to say why a pet name is a ‘pet’ name because it is good enough to be a ‘good’ name (pardon the pun).

Such is the case of the newest member of the family. His ‘good’ name is Writobroto. I am certain that he will curse his parents for that at some future point in his life, especially when he starts going to school and finds that no one can pronounce or spell his name, or when people ask him the meaning of his name ad nauseam, or when interviewers typically begin by questioning him about his name. If he is smart (I am optimistic, given who his blood-related paternal aunt is ;-D), he will get people to call him by his ‘pet’ name Ayushman. Now how I am going to bless him with long life is another question (the traditional blessing is ‘Ayushman bhava’, which means ‘be long-lived’, and if he is already ‘Ayushman’, how can I tell/bless him to be ‘Ayushman’- kind of a conundrum, eh?)

But that is in the future. For now, he is oblivious of all the name-calling (!!!) and goes by the name of Ayush. Why he couldn’t have been named that to begin with I cannot say and it is not my place to say. I, on my part, am probably going to call him something else altogether. I haven’t yet decided. I am trying to choose between Hector, Cuchulain, Beowulf, Ulysses, Ramses and Thor. Not joking! Perhaps I should do a poll. His parents, of course, will probably let me nowhere near him after reading this. Oh well!

He is a funny looking little fellow with his father’s eyes and eyebrows and his mother’s mouth and chin (look at the picture). I can’t imagine what he will look like as an adult! He is like other babies at this stage- not very interesting to anyone except his parents and grandparents. I know that this is sacrilege, but for me that is the truth. He’ll probably turn into someone I would enjoy spending time with some time in his life. But that time is not now. Not for me. Call me strange but I DO NOT GO ALL KOOCHIE-KOO AROUND BABIES. Ayush isn’t a bad baby, actually. He is rather cute, to be honest. The nicest thing about him is that he is a cheerful baby. That I really like about him.

Maybe he will turn out to be a cheerful, even-tempered, level-headed person like his grandmother (my mother) was. That would be nice. Such a person is a great asset in a family of hotheads. I think that is one of the million reasons that my mother is missed. I don’t expect little Ayush to step in and fill that role (poor fellow, he probably has people already expecting sooooooooo much from him); it would be unfair. But I’d like to think that if he turns out like that, he’d like to hear some day that he’s got that in common with the grandmother whom he never met.