swans and cat's teeth

My quest for more and better exercise got me up early this morning to walk the west Toronto Waterfront Trail. This finely feathered flock paddled along beside me for a while, probably hoping I'd brought bread crumbs to share. Tough luck, guys.

Temptation was great to abandon the walk, park myself on a bench, and just enjoy the glorious morning, but that's precisely the lazy-ass attitude that brought me to the point of really, really needing the exercise. So...walk-on was the order of the day.

My goal is to walk the trail (or another) at least twice a week for the rest of the summer. And now that I've written it down the goal is official...there will be no excuses!

On the topic of goals, it's time to implement the vet's recommendation for keeping Sam healthy: daily regular brushing of the (remaining*) catly teeth. Not surprisingly, Sam has been uncooperative. Today we tried a demonstration of the human tooth brushing ritual. "Come, Sam. Watch me brush my teeth. Mmmm. Feels good."

Things were going relatively well — at least he seemed to be paying attention — until ... well, apparently cats are hard-wired to run and hide upon spying a creature who's foaming at the mouth. I can appreciate that.

A few hours later, having redeemed myself with treats and chin-scratchies, we tried breaking in his new toothbrush. It's blue, with soft, rubbery bristles that make a squeaky sound when rubbed against his teeth. He actually seemed to like it for the first twenty seconds or so. Then he made a beeline for his under-bed hiding place. We'll try again tomorrow. Maybe a little catnip on the bristles...

*Sam underwent dental surgery last month to have two severely decayed teeth extracted. It was pretty rough going for a while, not to mention hard on the budget, so if brushing will keep his teeth healthy, it's definitely worth the effort.