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31st January 2008
Ode to Fat Cat Max
There once was a cat, named Maxim, who was affectionately referenced to as Fat Cat Max.
Maxim was born in 1991, to someone who did not want him or his brothers and sisters. They travelled to an animal shelter and were washed and caged in a scary place. They were placed with a grey kitty who was very mean and had a bad temper. Max’s grey tabby brother with wise green eyes and mitten paws promised to protect little Max. Misha knew he had to find an owner very soon. Along came a young woman who looked really nice - she looked like the perfect owner. Misha had a good feeling about her, so, he took a chance and reached out to her and pulled her t-shirt sleeve close with his paws. The young woman played with both of them in a room, and then she left. Thank goodness she came back again - and took them home in a cardboard box. It was really scary, but atleast Max and Misha were going to a home together. Apprehensive, but excited, they adventured to their new home - wow! There was a lot of room, and stairs, and food, so much food!
Maxim was named by the nice woman after a Russian character she once read about. Misha was named after Mikhail Barishnikov, the Russian dancer, because Misha was a leaping kitty cat. Maxim loved his brother very much - if it wasn’t for him he would have not been able to go home with with this woman, and stay together as brothers were meant to be!
Their lives were very good - there was warmth, lots of love, lap time, even shoulder time, and always plenty of room to run around. Max loved to run and wake up the woman in the morning. That was his absolute favorite thing to do. He would get so hungry, and that woman, she wouldn’t wake up early enough to make that pain in his little tummy go away. So one day, he went to another room and ran all the way as fast as he could and he jumped on the bed where the woman lay sleeping. She woke up! She looked at Max - and Max thought for a second he was in trouble. But then the woman got up and fed him - wow! This is going to be easy, he said.
As long as he could run and jump on the woman’s bed, and run it into the wall, he was in luck. But he’d have to run from another room just to get up the momentum to run in her room, and jump on her bed. But then they moved - to another house. He tried doing the same thing in the morning, but noticed it did not quite have the same effect. Max looked around in the bedroom for something to make noise with - he went over to the window - where there were these things hanging in - and he noticed, thankfully, that when he put his paws on the white things - well they made some noise - and then, guess what? the woman, she woke up!
So, thankfully, Max had yet one more way to wake up the young woman. This meant he could eat early in the morning. He also noticed that the woman tended to lock up the kitty food in some boxes - and he sure wanted to get into those boxes. He talked to Misha about it and they came up with a plan - he was able to nudge the box from one side, Misha worked on it from the other side, and voila! - The top of the box came undone, and then all this food spilled out - Wow!
Max had a favorite chair in this house. He occasionally had to share it with his brother, Misha. He knew the way to share this chair was to hop up, lick Misha an awful lot, until Misha got so disgusted by all the affection that he hopped off the chair. This always made Max very happy. He wanted the great big comfy chair all to himself.
One day the woman came home with a dog - Max - he was not happy about this. The little black furry thing was a yipper and liked to run after Max. Then one day the dog was gone, and the woman cried. TV reporters came to interview the woman, and Max and his brother, Misha - they got to be on TV! That dog never returned, but then one day another dog, a bigger dog, came home with the woman. She was very happy - and Max could tell that the bigger dog was a nice dog and decided he should be nice to the big dog.
They moved again, which Max was very happy about. They moved to this really cool place where there was a place they could bask in the sun in the fresh air. It was safe, yet outside up high, where they could watch birds and other things fly by. Max promised Misha he would catch him a bird - those little fluffy things that made that sound when they went away. Max just knew they would taste really, really good.
One day, Max caught himself a bird - he hid behind the door to the outside place - for a very, very long time. And then the bird landed right outside the door, and Max lunged and caught him! Gotcha! He brought the bird inside and couldn’t wait to show his owner how good he’d been! Somehow the woman wasn’t as excited as he was. Misha wasn’t either. But Max, he was very, very proud of his catch. To be able to catch a bird from inside an apartment - no other cat was as cool as he was.
Max was nicknamed soon after as Fat Cat Max - because he liked to eat, and eat, and eat. Max got a really healthy belly on him, and he loved to search for food. One day, he found a bag of bread with some cheese inside. Never again was he able to find bread with that cheese inside - but he looked and looked in any bag of bread he could find for that cheesy filling - with no luck. His owner, she got kinda mad when Max would open up those bags of bread. But she quickly forgave him, because she gave Max something else to eat instead.
Max loved the trash - that stuff underneath the sink. That was the best - there were containers and containers of yummy smelling stuff, always with just a little taste of something really good inside. Sometimes, the woman would fix dinner for herself and her boyfriend, and leave a little food on the table. He’d never forget the day where the woman made some big pieces of meat and placed them all on the table. There were lots of people around, and the woman and her boyfriend got distracted. Max talked to Misha and they decided to sneak underneath the table, and spy on the food until the perfect opportunity came about. Max loved that Misha could jump onto anything really fast, capture the food in his mouth, and run away with it so he and Max could share it on the floor in another room. Sometimes that big black dog would come in and steal it from them, though. Max didn’t like that very much.
Max loved lots of things, and he felt life was very, very good. He loved his owner’s hair - and loved to get on her shoulder and put his paws into her hair. His brother, Misha, and he lived good lives. They moved from time to time, but wherever they went there was always more room. Every once in a while, they got to go outside and eat minty leaves and bask in the sun. He even began to love that old black furry dog too. She let him put his paws in her hair too. Sun, food, laptime, furry blankets and more food - that was a good life - the good times. But one day, there was an interruption in the good times - and it was in the form of another kitty cat - who also wanted his food, his owner’s time, the dog’s time, and that was not fair!
Tomorrow Max will tell you about the last four years of his life, when little Monroe, the tuxedo cat, was brought home by the dog Cody. Thanks for reading.
He’s Gone
My beloved Max is gone from this physical world as of 12 something this afternoon. His brothers, Misha and Monroe, and my sweet chow Cody, crowded around about half an hour beforehand in my room. Monroe was oddly scared even though the doctor had not arrived yet. He ran up to the room and hid for no apparent reason.
We climbed into bed and prayed to St. Francis to ease his spirit into the next world. We sat on the ottoman next to the window where Max loved to lay and bask in the sunlight. I took Max into my arms. The doctor came with her assistant, and two shots later, Max was asleep peacefully in my arms. My vet was so respectful - thank you Dr. Renee.
My pet sitter was here to help with the dogs meanwhile. I cut some of my hair and placed it in Max’s paws - which was a favorite soothing thing for Max to do. Monroe seems to be the most curious and upset. After I cried and cried and cried, and came downstairs with Max wrapped so sweetly in his towel and in his bag, Monroe came downstairs and cried as well. He came up to the bag where Max lay peacefully in his towel, curled up, and yes, expired. Monroe sniffed around the bag, along the top of the bag, and then he looked inside. He looked at Max, carefully placed a paw inside, stepped on Max ever so gently, and licked his neck one last time, as if to say goodbye. He was so incredibly sweet, so tearfully endearing - and thank God I witnessed it.
Misha is on another level it seems. He came up to the bag and looked inside, sniffed, and then walked away. Cody did the same, licked at the carpet where the bag was previously, and then walked off. Lucky, well she is oblivious to the pain any of us feel. I suppose that in a way was a good thing.
Max tonight and tomorrow will be in Shoedinger’s Pet Cremation Services. I will be able to witness the cremation this weekend, and take him home the same day. I found them to be very, very respectful.
Max - I have cried hard to lose you, and to say goodbye to you today. Thank you Max for nearly 17 years of pure unconditional love. I will miss you so terribly much - but tonight I will celebrate your funny moments in life and your desire for the good life. I have not cried this hard out loud for as long as I can remember. We will all miss you woefully.
30th January 2008
My Last Night With Max, Fat Cat Max
This is Max’s Last Night - My Last Night With Him
This is my (once, previously) fat cat Max’s last night, who is no longer fat, but nearly 17, hyperthyroid, liver disease-ridden, often sick, and rather bony to boot. At the moment, he’s sleeping peacefully tonight, under the living room light, on the red couch, in the blankets. Tomorrow at noon, is the dreaded doc’s visit. I’m going to post a picture where all three of my kitties were lined up sleeping, next to one another in the next day or so, but here’s another picture of him tonight by himself on the couch.
I hate this, I really hate this. If you read the posts below, you’ll know what I’m referencing and why. I feel guilty despite any ration any person or myself tries to emit. I just don’t like “electing” the end, or choosing the time, the place, the location, the how.
Trying to keep my other animals separate from him, carrying him out of my house afterwards, wondering how I’m going to face Misha, his brother, afterwards. It is important for me to not stress Max further by taking him in the car to the vet. He’s almost died twice on his last two car rides, hyperventilating, turning pure white in his mouth, and causing near accidents trying to comfort him.
I wonder if his brother, Misha, already knows - I tried to tell him last night. Wondering if St. Francis is okay with this?
I’m going to write an “Ode to Fat Cat Max” tomorrow night as personal therapy and post some funny old stories and pictures.
Say a prayer for both of the brothers, who I pray will handle the physical separation well. max and Misha have always been quite connected during difficulties or disappearances. I’ll tell those endearing stories tomorrow. Tonight, I have fuzzy furry time to spend with Max. Tears flow - Misha sits beside me as I write this wanting up on my shoulder and crying to be held.
24th January 2008
Cody & Max - Should I Put Them Down Together?
It’s 3:30 in the morning. I’m up because Cody, my chow dog, has gotten sick again with her terrible coughing attacks. She has never gotten 100% better since June of 2007, when MedVet opened her up only to discover nothing in her intestines. I blogged about that issue in June of last year.
Cody’s coughing attacks are so incredibly horrible that you just want to calm her. My stomach tightens as she goes into the attack, and I feel so incredibly bad for her. I’ve tried everything - she’s been to five or more vets in the past six months. We’ve spent over $7,000 trying to figure out the problem only to not discover what’s wrong. There gets to be a point when you just want to leave well enough alone - and let nature take its course. The probing, the visits, the invasiveness, the cost - all very intense. But she’s absolutely the best dog I’ve ever had - better than any dog growing up, and better than the other two dogs I’ve had.
I can hear her downstairs right now - it just is truly dreadful - I’ve tried capturing it on tape so you can hear what this is like - but it comes intermittently and lasts for about 30 seconds. She has not eaten much because she can’t get the food down, and it does appear this is coming from an upset stomach, or perhaps a progression of cancer that we’ve never been able to find?
So, the vet is available this weekend, or I can use the Born Free service where they come to your house. I guess I want my regular vet to do this. I tried using one vet’s service but I found the vet’s wife to be somewhat insensitive and quite frankly rude when I asked them to come to me. I was referred to Born Free instead. My other vet has been more than willing to do this, but is out of town until tomorrow, Thursday.
‘When you have to put a loved animal down, you actually feel like you’re pre-meditating murder - of a dog and cat I know - but still it feels horrible. I don’t want to elect to put the animal to sleep - I want the animal to go naturally, right? In their sleep, their way - but the suffering that you watch when their final moments come.
As my other dog, Lucky, and my sweet kitty Misha, the brother of Max, laid here in bed with me, I began to ponder the Saturday arrangements pending vet availability (which isn’t easy to arrange). I began to cry, really hard, sobbing in my pillow, hating the reality of it. I’m crying now as I write. Lucky, she’s oblivious to their life, so I think she’ll be fine - if anything she’s likely to be out of control even moreso as Cody does provide some training and structure to what Lucky is allowed to do when she’s around.
Misha - he’ll be saying goodbye to his brother - but I think he’ll be okay too. He’s a miracle himself, many times over, so I think he’ll hang on for a while, maybe a year or so.
Monroe, I worry about him. Cody protects Monroe from Lucky, who just wants to play with Monroe. Lucky who has taken to licking Max’s ears (and max actually lets him), really likes to chase Monroe. She doesn’t really bother Misha, who is wise enough to perch above Lucky’s head and look down on her with disdain.
So, what to do - and how to do it - and how to survive it. I think of excrutiating details of where I should do it so their karma can release into my home - will they go off and play together - rediculous, right?
Or, if you are seriously into pets, you’ve struggled with this too at some point and probably sympathize along with me. But with sick animals in the house, the home gets to be out of balance, and the other animals I think get stressed too - just from them being sick. They pick up on my stress of trying to take care of them.
If you’re reading this, and have posted pictures or videos of your loved cats and dogs, please send them to me in the comments field, link to your pics please. Animals do bring so much laughter and enjoyment most of the time to your life - that I can’t imagine life without them.
Whenever I hurt, I always try to bring up something funny so here goes:
Two moments of chaos with the kids in the past couple of days - I have a new cleaning lady who by the way is not a “lady” if you know what I mean. Think Dirty Sexy Money - seen Patty? Literally the same. Don’t get me wrong, Patty can clean with the best. But all I could think was SNL and Dirty Sexy Money. The Baldwin girlfriend …. are you getting me?
Patty comes in last week for the first deep clean of the house. I’m kinda shocked because i wasn’t expecting this. Well, poor girl - she comes in - Max is getting senile and sick some days and doesn’t recall where the boxes are - so I’ve put him downstairs in the litter/laundry room and closed the door so I can prepare for “Patty”. Scaredy Cat Monroe, who is terribly afraid of the strangers, well, he’s run downstairs to tunnel under the bedspread. Perhpas he’s even tried to run into litter room, and discovered, oh shit, the door is closed. So, he takes the liberty of letting his angst out by the litter box door. If you know what I mean….
I bring Patty downstairs, only to discover this - how’s that for first impressions - of course I’m mortified. I see Monroe under the bedspread, a big lump in the bed. Cody, my loyal chow protective dog is following Patty like a hawk - and is not letting her out of her sight whatsoever - I apologize to Patty about Max and Monroe - only to turn around and discover Cody has decided to clean the carpet herself - oh God - Calgon take me away!
Wise kitty Misha - he’s upstairs oblivious to this - but all I can think of is the pure chaos in my house - Patty wants to ask questions about the house …. I’m thinking I need to clean my carpet right now ….. yowza. It was like a moment on SuperNanny, or Cesar Milan’s show on Animal Planet.
The pet sitter shows up soon after and takes Lucky for a walk. Lucky is pulling my pet sitter so bad that day that she walks into my room and tells me that Lucky is fired, we’re fired. No more Lucky pulling on her. When stressful moments like this happen and people are falling apart around me - I tend to get very calm - just to make them feel better - sometimes to get rid of them quickly - and then it’s time to fix, fix the situation and cope - bring things back to the typical state of quiet around here.
Out I go to PetsMart, determined to fix the problem. I buy two new leashes, a reflective collar (Lucky has already eaten that), Cesar’s book on “Be the Pack Leader”, and a gentle leader, oh, and two sweaters for Lucky who gets cold outside on her walks. Let me tell you - the leash with the grip and the gentle leader are divine assists.
Lucky has been re-hired. Thank God - my pet sitter has agreed to walk her again. Indeed, Lucky was a bucking bronco the first three times on the new leash - but I must say I think she likes her new OSU Buckeyes sweater. I can’t believe I’m dressing a dog, especially having a Chow for all these years. But Lucky likes her sweather and now knows the lead is a sign of a good long walk.
Despite this new hope of a possibly trained dog in the near future, we’re still having problems with two things with Lucky - poopin’ in the house despite a walk, or having just been let outside, and the recent and very wonderful discovery of shoes. Shoes are fun, right? Leather tastes so good, right? What a dog tastes in leather is beyond me. But she decided to break out of her kennel while Cody and I were out to get her medicine the other night. She likes to take the shoes from the foyer, bring them into the living room, deposit them, and then play with them, chew them, yeah - so I come home and see Lucky out of her kennel. I’m immediately worried because this dog can do some serious damage in no time flat.
Lucky thinks this is super cool - boss and that mean dog Cody is gone - cool! I can chase cats, see if there ar eany crumbs in the kitchen, oh, and there’s that cool box of goodies downstairs in the basement, and shoot, if I need to go to the bathroom, well, I’ll just run down to that room where the kitties go - and these shoes, I love leather shoes - so chewy and yummy!
So, my beloved Clark shoes - one destroyed, absolutely destroyed. Now why couldn’t she have done the slippers - I never wear those things anyway.
pet proofing the house - huh? I hear ya!
Now, listen, if that dog ever touches my Manolos!!!!!!!! It’s mincemeat time!!!!! Cat food - a new brand - Lucky cat food - in memory of Manolo slingbacks. hide your Manolos, quick, while you can!
So Cody is hacking up her lungs, dry heaving, and watering at the eyes, Max is wandering around my house wondering where the box is, Monroe is talking - Lucky is discovering new shoes and anything else she can play with - the only sane one in this house - my 17 year old cat Misha. he’s wise enough to just stay upstairs where it’s quiet, clean, and very serene.
I’ve given it 17 and 13 years respectively with Cody and Max - I can only hope I have the strength to call the vet tomorrow - and then God help us all on Saturday and Sunday.
19th January 2008
My 4-Legged Kids 2 replies
My 16 1/2 year old orange tabby/marmalade, Max, is dying. He’s actually been dying for about a year. He’s been hyperthyroid for about two years, and has had some really violent bouts of sickness over the past year. The other night, he woke me up around 4 a.m., to let me know he was “not” feeling well at all. He licked his chops and I knew this was more than a hairball. He got quite sick, so bad, that I was doing laundry in the middle of the night. He felt so sick, and was in so much pain, that I made that difficult visit to the vet to arrange his closure on life. I wanted to arrange it for that day.
I have five four-legged kids, three cats, two dogs. I also have four fish but they’re at the office, but they’re not four-legged, right? I’ve had Max and Misha for nearly 17 years. They were adopted from the Humane Society in Columbus - when it was out on Alum Creek. I rescued them from a mean grey kitty cat in the cage, but it was Misha who snagged me, literally as I walked by his cage. He literally reached his mitten paws out and grabbed my shirt. So, I had to take him and his brother home.
Nearly 17 years later, these two kitties have meant the world to me. We think Max has liver cancer, in addition to hyperthyroid disease. The hyperthyroid of course causes his liver numbers to skyrocket.
If you’ve ever put an animal to sleep, it sucks, really, really sucks. The wierd thing though is that every single time Max gets so bad that I actually call the vet to come and put him to sleep, Max gets better, miraculously, by the time the vet might actually make himself/herself available to do the deed. I even told him that day, it’s okay to let go. Max has always been there for me - he’s always baby-sat me and the other animals if they were sick - he’s the one that stood watch - always. http://www.flickr.com/photos/bizresearch/2203413356/in/set-72157603750080571/ He’s saved me from missing a few flights, he’s walked on my back a million times in the middle of the night, he’s launched my bed across the room to tell me it’s time to eat MOM, he’s the best alarm clock in the world. He can get into any bag of food in record time. He’s always had a thing for bagels and any bread product.
Tonight - he curled up with me and his brother on the couch - he’s always had a thing for putting his paws into the dog’s hair, my hair, the cat’s hair. He’s so tender. And, I’m going to really miss him.
18th January 2008
A Fertility Journey for Working Women
If you are a working woman, considering or trying to have children, and you’re over 30, read on: If you are a man or woman who is squeamish about personal medical details, I’d skip this one.
I was married and divorced very early. I’ve had long-term relationships, one that was 10 years (almost a marriage in itself), and a couple of others that were close to two years each. Since turning 30-something, I began to look at relationships differently. It’s true what they say for most women who want children - and have always wanted children -the body clock begins to click. I’ve known for a long time that I wanted children. Journaled many years ago, long before having children was even possible, that this was a dream of mine. But I didn’t want to rush relationships for the sole and therefore wrong purpose of having a child - or I’d be divorced twice like some people I know - or unhappy raising a child with my husband. It isn’t unusual to hear stories from friends who have married to have children, or have had children to save their marriage.
I don’t feel like I’m missing out if I don’t have a true marriage (which my first was hardly that). I absolutely will feel huge regrets if I don’t pursue having children. I have five four-legged kids, three cats and two dogs, and several employees, contractors - I teach, I run a business, blah blah blah. All of this is a bit much for the average man to swallow. Every man can handle a pretty woman on his side, but an ambitious, accomplished, intelligent thought-provoking debater who has travelled the world - that can be perhaps too much for most men I know, that are in fact still single or divorced. So, why not have kids without the man? Not perfect, I know. I’m sometimes Catholic, and always a Christian. Not exactly what I woke up and decided early in my life. But now, why not?
For men and women both, as fertile body clocks tick tock away, it can be too late for their bodies to pro-create once they’ve finally made up their minds to do so. In today’s world there are many ways to help a couple or even a single person pro-create. Enter the expensive world of fertility drugs, and/or alternative therapies. I decided nearly four years ago to pro-create on my own, with donor sperm, regardless of my relationship. I chose to do this without drugs, and learned through ultrasounds that I had polyps and fibroids and a blocked tube. All diagnostics were paid for out of pocket - however, the surgeries were included in my insurance. I’ve had Aetna, Anthem and now Aetna again. Insurance can be a big factor in fertility. It’s quite costly, and many people invest thousands or even tens of thousands of dollars over a period of two to three years.
If it had not been for my curiosity, my willingness to work with different fertility doctors throughout Ohio, and financial wherewithall, I would not have known I had all of these issues. I found I loved learning about my body, and what was happening inside of me. And yes, the only way to really discover that is through x-rays, internal ultrasounds, and some rather painful probes. The most painful probe was the test they run to see if your tubes are open - I felt like I should have taken some strong painkillers before that test. Of course, why it’s so important to do these outpatient tests on a cold, metal table is beyond me. Cleanliness I get, but must it be that cold in those damn rooms?
Anyway, after much internal emotional and physical conflict, I’ve decided to do in-vitro, after four years of occasionally focusing on inseminations, probably two or three a year. Women who are 37-39, they have less than a 12% chance of conceiving. IF they choose to do fertility drugs, they can increase their chances to more than 40%, however, by choosing to engage in fertility treatments, they may increase numerous risks including cancer.
I will post entries here throughout this journey - just in this category. If you want updates on this cateogry, you might want to subscribe to our feed. I think there might be away to put “fertility” and “laura thieme” in your search in Google Feeds where you manage subscriptions. Otherwise, just come back and visit. I will leave comments open in the event that other women going through the same fertility journey, choose to ask questions and have a forum to learn more and share their insights and experiences.
Recently, SpaFinder.com posted a blog entry regarding spas and fertility. I’ve linked to that, and I encourage you to check it out. I personally am interested in the Fertile Soul program, and perhaps the post-baby boot camp - both of whom I’ve contacted already.
A couple of days ago, I started my protocol. In the subsequent entries under A Fertility Journey, I’ll write about the specifics.
10th January 2008
2008 Goals : Do Less
What did you do in 2007? Too Much?
In 2007, I did way too much - way too much. Some said that surely I would burn out. I developed a course at Ohio State University, I led a company of 12 employees, I developed two SEMPO courses for my search engine marketing trade association, I trained and trained and trained employees, I had major surgery, I took care of four animals (3 cats and a dog), I went to Antarctica, Argentina and travelled in many states, worked on numerous projects, blah, blah blah, right?
Who gives a penguin guano? I’m focused in 2008 on a couple of things - doing less - that is the theme, and the specifics, well here is what that includes:
1) Invitro - yep - focus on baby or babies
2) Do less for nothing - I’m not in the mood this year to do something for nothing
3) Volunteer less - refer to point 2
4) Sell my condo - move into house
5) focus on fitness
6) train new dog
7) do less
travel less for work and more for fun9) buy strong real estate investment
10) do more for fun
What should we blame this on? Antarctica - a vacation - a trip - a real, genuine getaway - a green marketing initiative - who cares about your new car, your new house, your new outfit? Are you doing anything to make the world a better place, right?
So, I’m nesting the new house for baby thing - and I’m focusing on green, marketing, and doing less. Focus, focus, focus -and do less.
Be well - relax - take care of yourself - and the environment - use less - don’t just recycle - use less. Be less disposable - reuse more - and don’t throw out if you can renew.
Breathe in - and let go. Have fun - and do less - that is, if you were doing something productive to begin with.
1st January 2008
Antarctica Wildlife: Whales, Penguins, Petrels & Albatross
Antarctica Wildlife Photos on Flickr: Whales, Penguins, Petrels & Albatross
I’ve organized photos in different sets including whales, penguins, petrels & albatross. Learn more about Antarctic wildlife in the coming weeks. I’ll add some references to each instance where we saw the wildlife on our Antarctic cruise December 10-20, 2007, and facts I learned about each in the next few days. Be sure to subscribe, to the right, and read the updates. Below is a humpback whale we saw on our way to Antarctica, on December 12, 2007.
Antarctica Penguins: Favorite Moments on the Antarctica Cruise
My Absolute Favorite Thing to Do in Antarctica : Watch the Antarctica Penguins!
I am still organizing Antarctica photos, preparing videos and uploading them to YouTube, however the coolest thing to do in Antarctica for me was to watch the penguins. They are beyond cute, a little stinky I might add, but once you get over the guano smell - you can’t help but love these little guys!
Gentoo Penguin in Cuverville Island, AntarcticaWe saw gentoo penguins & chinstrap penguins. I’ve posted some pics here of gentoos, but there are pics of both on Flickr if you click the link to the left here.
Postcard Perfect PenguinsI missed the Adelies, sadly, whom have experienced a steep decline in population due to global warming and climate change. Over a 70% decline in Adelie penguins is believed to be due to egg mortality as a result of Adelies nesting on sea ice. Warmer temperatures, ie global warming, creates more snow, believe it or not. If enough snow falls, Adelies are often buried in the snow while they nest - and as a result are forced to abandon their eggs in order to survive themselves.
I’ve created a Flickr photo set of the Antarctica Penguins. You can jump to the Antarctica Penguin Slideshow on Flickr. View Options, or Click on the “i” to view titles and descriptions if you want. I just wish I could figure out how to add some music….
YouTube Video of Gentoo Penguin Rookery in Cuverville Island, Antarctica
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3bNQsmSmuITo learn more about why you should care about Antarctica and climate change - I’ve compiled some more research I’ve collected for those who have more questions.
