And 2 Weeks Later...Good-bye to My Annie

It’s been one year now. She died about two weeks after my Rusty. But it was a tragic, unexpected, horrible death and such a trauma for me that my dormant PTSD symptoms returned with night terrors that caused me to awaken crying out. I can’t yet write about how she died yet. . Perhaps someday I’ll be able.  But to lose my two buddies so close together was...well, it still is, unspeakable emotional pain and trauma.

I live alone now. Can I ever, at age 67, living alone, get other pets and watch them, probably help them pass, like Rusty? I don’t know that answer today, I just don’t know.

         It's Dec. 22, 2019 now. It's been 6 months since my fur babies have been gone. It's taken till this moment to write about my loss. I still haven't written in my journal about the events. It's too difficult to touch the cards of condolences, his little paw print card from the vet, hers from her vet and glue them into the pages.  Just can't do it yet.

        In April I learned that Rusty had two cancer tumors, one in bladder, one in his kidney. The one in his bladder grew fastest and began to cover his urethra so he couldn't urinate completely. He would stand, try, make his whole body rigid trying, and put out dribbles. My vet told me his efforts were energy draining and painful for him. She prescribed pain tablets until June.....Thurs. the 12th.

         On  aWed evening I called the vet and asked for the latest Thursday appt they could give me....."to do it". (The tears have come now. . . b-r-e-a-t-h-e)  Rusty and I spent our last day of 16 years together mostly on my bed. I watched him sleep; I listened to his adorable little snores. I recorded them. I watched him and cried. I did his 3 tricks with him, he retired back to sleep easily, so I held him and sobbed gently.

         I never had a pooch all and only mine that didn't die before age 5. 16 years, from my ages 51 to 67. 16 years and 6 moves (that's another story.) Day trips to the Pacific Ocean, the Coastal Redwood Forests, many trips to see family 4 hrs. away in Visalia.  Long walks where almost every person walking toward us always smiled at his cuteness or maybe stopped to have to conversation about our dogs. Soooo many memories.

         I can write about the moments of his gentle euthanization in his vet's lovely room just for that. I rent my apartment so I didn't have a place to bury him, so I had to ask for cremation of my best friend instead of carrying home his ultra soft fur one more time to bury.  3 weeks later I picked up the beautiful, tiny, engraved box (still crying here).

I  carried it gently with the short shovel I'd bought straight, to the 65 beautiful private acres where I work on my day off. I knew the times and corners where there'd by no one around. In less the 3 minutes I dug a preselected place I'd watered the day before and placed the box in the ground. On top of it I placed a purple/white geranium plant. Quickly, I covered them both, watered again, walked the shovel to the trunk of my car, returned, then sat silently and cried (mostly) on the inside in case anyone walked by. It was done. Or, as Christ said on His cross, "It. is. finished." His illness, his passing, his burial. But not his sweet memories.

        I watched his grave and geranium daily making sure to water it till our December rains. Readers who've long loved a pet will understand whyI (a teacher mom who lives alone now) it's still hard on my days off ,when I'm alone with my own thoughts. Losing something or someone brings back memories of others I've lost in my life: my mom when she was only 57, my friends throughout my life of cancer or other, even the loss of my marriage to an unwanted divorce . The mind just swirls to those sad places when not otherwise occupied. For me, its losing my cherished best friend. A sweet fluffy Pomeranian someone else abandoned in their apt when evicted when my gain. Rusty was docile, quiet (silent), happy, and loving to all my residents at Belmont Village, Saratoga Retirement Community, and now the Sisters, my friends,  at the Sacred Heart Oakwood Retirement home. He sat on laps, he lay down calmly beside (sometimes falling asleep) the sisters. He let them tussle his fur and kiss his forehead. He knew 3 tricks I taught him during my knee replacement recovery. He did them over and over, and the Sisters, most who have Dementia, always clapped for him. Rolling a tiny ball with his nose was my favorite.

       And then, only 13 days later....Annie died.  But I can't write about that yet.

                                          Willow Glen Halloween Pet Parade

                                          Sister Campbell, who took his passing very hard.

                                          An Etsy handmade tiny box I bought for a tuft of

                                               both his brown and white furs tied in ribbon. 

My best furry friend . . . ever. 

Coming home from the vet, Annie leans out of the side pocket of her carrier to seek travel solace from Rusty. 

A few years ago, at work, I came upon the book Unlikely Friendships .  I turned its pages in awe as I viewed the unique photos of opposite species together. As well, the accompanying stories surely warmed my heart.  Since I first saw this book five years ago, a plethora of books and just images themselves have exploded both in publication and on the internet.  Just google "unlikely friendships" and click images. Your eyes will feast on sweet photos of not only domesticated species, but zoo-type animal friendships like tigers and bear (Oh my!) 

I now have a collection a "unlikely" books.  In my capacity in Life Enrichment Activities with seniors in Dementia and Alzheimer's, I use these them for reading or simply photo enjoyment with individuals and small groups.  As well, for myself, I find that as the audience is going, "Awwwww...."  internally I find myself smiling along with them, and marveling, and, perhaps oddly......calming down.  I find myself thinking soothing thoughts that comfort me. Thoughts like, "If animals can come together like this, maybe humans can, too."  And on a more personal note I feel less lonely  and isolated as I vicariously view these wonderful special, new animal friendships. I don't know how to explain it that during those few moments of reading, I close the book comforted almost as if I just read my Bible.  

Here are some of my favorites. I encourage you, dear readers, to consider them as gifts for young and old alike and even yourself: Happy Birthday, Get Well Soon, Happy Retirement, etc. !!!

And What About Barbara?

"Hmm, are you sure this is the way we
play checkers, sister?"

In my infinite pet insight I always imagine Rusty and Annie, especially little man, thinking all these years, "Where does she go all day?  Why does she leave us?"

When I started this blog I was living in the city in which I'd raised my sons. I'd returned, after retiring from teaching, to assist my older sister through a medical crisis.  I had time on my hands as never in my adult life. Annie arrived and her antics just entertained me so!  The blog began. I watched the other Comedy Channel Rusty & Annie and the writing, photos, and videos commenced.  But this is the first post about the "Barb" in its title.

Barb...er, I transferred my teaching skills
added a lot more caregiving and certified myself into a new career as Life Enrichment Leader. I could be a director, but  I'd directed to the point of 50-55 hour weeks for the last 10 yrs of my teaching career so I was quite done with that.  My title conveys how caring for our seniors in "homes" has evolved in the 30 years since my sweet Grammas were in one for a short time.  States have laws that these places must now plan a day's activities to engage elders (called residents) in meaningful (and mostly fun!) ways each day. Or, as my own independently living Dad says, "Ohhhh, so you finally found a job where you could pretend to work!"  Haha, good one, Dad. Yes, I did!

Oh, one tidbit.....I specialize and work within what "the biz" calls Memory Care (which explains the caption on the photo above); this means that I work primarily with residents that have been diagnosed with Dementia and Alzheimer's (a type of Dementia).

Presently (and until 2nd retirement, I hope), I work at a retirement home in a beautiful town below my home south of San Francisco, CA. It is a private home for about sixty retired nuns. Nuns?!  Yes, they do get to retire!  It's a happy, recently renovated, lovely set of buildings on a sixty-five acre stately campus that contains 3 schools K-12. And yet still it is serene.

And so, Annie...Rusty....this is what Barbara does and where she goes. And Rusty, you will soon heal and be back to work with me, too. (If you call sitting on laps all day "work", little man!)

Where Barb goes when she leaves 'the kids'. 

The Gatekeeper

They have a love-tolerate relationship. Annie adores Rusty as shown by sniffing him from end to end when he returns from our walks outside. Rusty tolerates Annie as demonstrated by his snarly lips in her direction when she gets face to face closer than the three inch personal boundary he's taught her; well, trying to teach her.

Now you have background on how Rusty is always trying to keep Annie "in her place". I mean, after all, she only adopted us two years ago and Rusty has been the keeper of Barbara for thirteen of his fourteen years.  Recently, he was befuddled, being the docile working therapy pooch he is, as to how to climb his stairs to our family bed with Annie having the audacity to sit like an Egyptian princess cat on his top step.

Let's be honest, he's the little short dude, so the stairs were a gift to him when he aged out of being able to jump up on the bed.  There are only four steps.  But herein lies the quandry: What should Rusty do about Annie on that top step when he desperately wants to get back up them and on to the bed?

Effort #1:  Stop on the third step and stare at her.  Yeah, that doesn't work my little man.  She's a cat, the queen of staring back.  Nope, she didn't move.  I watch this effort thinking, "Little dude, you can still go sideways and reach the bed from that third step!"  But, nope.  He stares. And finally, woefully, climbs back down. (Whereupon I lift him up from the other cat-less side of the bed :)

Effort #2: He  runs up extra fast as only a fourteen year old senior pooch can do! The hope is he'll

startle her and she'll suddenly jump off.  After all, she jumps all over the rest of the room, right! Wrong.  Poor fella, this effort causes Annie to think he wants to play so she bats a paw in his direction and back down he goes.  It's out of his reach once again! The step reuniting him to Barbara's pets and cuddles! The step leading to his milk bone under the pillow! And I watch this time and say aloud, "Guy! You gotta teach her who's boss! Give her that snarly lip! Or try that sideways on the third step trick!"  Annnnddddd.....down he goes.  Sigh.

Effort #3:  Shhhhh....Annie's sleeping on the top step. He sees his chance! I watch excitedly thinking, "Go for it, little buddy!"  He looks at me! He looks up at Annie!  He's up....up...up.....and she suddenly opens an eye, turns on her back and pats his direction with both paws.  How rude!   

But wait!  He turns! Yes! This is it!  The moment!  Since I'd pre-placed his milk bone in plain sight instead of under the usual pillow he spots it and, so great is the mouth watering anticipation of said bone he deftly twists to his left off the third step and grabs it!  Yes! "I told ya all along you could use the third step, Rusty"

Annie? She went back to her nap, as cats do. 

The Kids

Annie's all grown up now. After rescuing her in Visalia and living there a year to help a family member, she, Rusty and I moved back to my wonderful weather San Jose.

She's evolved into a lovely young feline as you can see. But I'm not sure she ever did grow into those ears ;)  18 months ago in Visalia she would occasionally grant me her presence on my lap for a few moments.  But she'd let me know I'd ruined her moment by jumping down if I dared pet her.

Not anymore, she'll sleep on my lap up to an hour and let me pet her the whole time.  Ohhh how she loves to have her ears rubbed.  Almost as much as her head and chin.  She now lets me massage her entire long body, too. It soothes me as much as her.  

And here's my little man. At this date, April, 2017, we've been together since 2004, he was born in 2003
He still walks as briskly as the first day I brought him home. I told his vet I thought he'd be slowing down by now. Her response was that doesn't have to happen for several years yet, in part because he still weighs the same he weighed at one year old when dogs are considered adult.  His heart murmur is asymptomatic now so no meds necessary. But I do have to keep his bronchodialator tablets on hand just in case he goes into labored breathing.  Seems he has more of that in summers. This photo shows him on the lap of our Sister Mills on a recent visit.  I'm told he can come more frequently to work with me once the loud noises of our renovation is over.  I really miss not getting to watch him love on my Dementia Sisters by going with me everyday like at a previous facility. I was taking him on one of  my day's off to other facilities, but recently my Audi needed a $5,500 repair (I couldn't do) so I took out a non op permit on it and we can't go anymore.  But he's still loving, still makes Annie keep a distance of at least three inches or he nips the air in her direction and.....he loves to cuddle and kiss my chin.

"Outta here!" said Rusty.

It was a lazy morning. The blinds were pulled half back to let in the glorious morning sun and give me my cherished view of the fifty foot cottonwood trees outside.  I was sitting up having my usual coffee in bed. Rusty, who always sleeps on the bed with me had come up for morning cuddles on my left.  As per her style, Annie suddenly popped up and joined us, but directly on my lap and awwwwfffuullly close to Rusty.

Now, ordinarily it often goes like this when Miss Annie decides to plop....er...grace her diva-self in the presence of Rusty and I.  One method is to join Rusty at the foot of the bed, but on the opposite side of the bed. So he's chill.  Another arrival is that she will appear out of nowhere (how do cats do that?!) and be the first to be up close and prefers my lap, again, as I sit up drinking said coffee. With that effort she effectively beats Rusty to the up close and personal cuddles.  And then there's my favorite: Like that morning and many other moments (hey, yeah, I relax sitting up in my bed a lot! ) she comes up stealthfully around Rusty already arrived for his cuddles and ever so gracefully walks above Rusty on the pillows, on and over my arm with hand holding the covered cup and gently postitions her softness on my lap.  So so sweet.

But Rusty is close beside her then and she does have that tail. Or in this case, that pesky tail. I see that it is calmly swishing back and forth.....on Rusty's side. Uh oh. And then....well, I'll just let you watch. Oh....and it's only three seconds so focus on the tail and Rusty's response.  

"Seriously cat?? I'm outta here." 

Shameless Pet Momma

If my two amazing sons were still itty bitty I'd surely post photos of their antics everyday on Facebook.  But, sigh, they had the audacity to grow up. And so.... my friends and family surely tire of photo after photo after photo of my little man, Rusty, and my little lady Miss Annie (as in orphan), but I. don't. care.   Lately, due to discovering the many youtube videos of Maru the Cat I've started to bring home boxes and bags for Annie.  Oh. word! The fun! Who knew???  I haven't got any videos yet (because she's so dang fast!) but just wanted to share a few of my favorite shots of her new (and free) toys. Oh, many thanks to the "give away" shelf at work for the cool boxes!

Ahhhhh, that first, special box.

She really DOES have her own proper, soft bed. 

"Rusty will never find me in this crinkly packing paper tent!"

Every cat should have an upscale, downtown, fancy, schmancy shopping bag cave.

"But, like Barbara, I'm partial to Trader Joe's!"

Sitting on TOP of a box is such a joy ride!

Awwww, no bag or box, but she's so pretty when she's drowsy in the sun's rays. 

Ok, now show me your cat! Tell me about them!

The Next Step of the Journey

I didn't intend to work with elderly people.  I didn't know the career of Life Enrichment Leader existed. I didn't even know the definition of the word "dementia", nor did I have much more than a cursory knowledge of Alzaheimer's. I didn't. But God did.

The Lord knew me. He knew how my heart ached after leaving 32 years of extending my skills, creativity, and heart to all of my students.  All I did one day was read a paragraph in my church's bulletin inviting members to volunteer at our Assisted Living facility next door.

I went over to see what were they doing these days in such facilities that I could possibly help with.

I'd always loved seniors.  Used to sit with the widows at church when finally old enough to not sit with Mom and Dad.  Then volunteered in high school to start the equivalent of Candy Stripers in hospitals in our local "convalescent hospital".  And, oh, OH, how I loved my grandparents. Was tickled that I got to share my room with Gramma when she moved in with the family after Grampa passed.  Yes, always had a heart for our seniors.

After an assessment of my skills and talents, the Activity Director asked me if I like to playthe  piano and lead sing-a-longs at our church's nursing facility.  What fun! It fed my soul to get to play piano, sing, and tell song histories to those lovely grammas and grampas. I also tried one on one visits when they asked me to. Hey, anyone who knows me will tell you I do love to visit (aka talk !) I just didn't realize I'd be having conversations with grammas and grampas who were aphasic (lost ability to speak due to stroke or other).  But, you know, I began to come prepared.  I'd bring beautiful nature photos and animal photos then admire the pictures  withthem. I'd ask them yes and no questions.  I was on a talkin' roll haha!

Then I began to notice these employees with name tags that said, "Activities Assistant". I'd watch what they did and I thought, "Well, I could do that!"  And sure enough, on internet job sites there were jobs with those titles and I applied and got one!  at Belmont Village, Sunnyvale, CA.     I was a part of a five member team of amazing young women at BV. They are still my dear friends even though we've all move on to other careers or places. When I had to leave the job to move and help take care of my own sister, these amazing ladies put up an early Christmas tree so we could celebrate together and gave me a grand, though teary, send off.

I'm the back blonde who'd cried off her makeup that night.

But God does work in mysterious ways.  I wasn't ever able to find an Activities Assistant position in Visalia, CA so I moved back to San Jose though I didn't get to go back to BV. And I still love this career that lets me be who I am. Now I am a certified leader that plans and executes the Memory Care program to wonderful retired nuns. Yep, that's right, Sisters!  The skills I've learned have taught me so very much how to plan a fun day of activities. Science has proven that when people with dementia are kept engaged in more than television watching or staring out a window it dramatically staves off the rate of decline into their dementia.  How rewarding. I love my job.  I. serve. people. 

Activities you ask? What kind of activities?  Oh, my! That's the fun....there is no limit to ways to have fun so I get to think it up, mix it up, and help them live it up every single day I walk in the door.  We have conversations about interesting topics from holidays to nature over snacks and drinks.  We play chair basketball, soccer, and volleyball for exercise. I seek out and bring in entertainers like our harpist and David, our "accordian guy" who my residents love.  They help me make snacks and desserts in our cooking class activity, We play a lot of card and table games.  Some of them are still fiercely competitive!  But it's all in the name of good times with good friends.  Yes, when I am in their presence that's how I refer to them....as my friends. "Hey! Where are my friends? Oh, there you are! All the way  here I was thinking, 'What if no one comes today?' "  and they all chuckle as we start our day.

My residents have been missile defense engineers, physicists, homemakers, real estate moguls, oral surgeons,  teachers, well, you get the idea. I have the joy of learning about each one of them through our daily interactions and it amazes me who God has put me in the presence of...hard-working citizens of our country.  

"Thank you for this new career after teaching, Lord, it truly feeds my soul every morning."

". . . those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed. " 

-- Proverbs 11:25

Changed In A Moment

One day, last summer, during Annie's scratching, biting days, I said to myself and others, "I still don't know if she can stay yet," and she'd been with me 3 or 4 months!  I considered myself emotionally still unattached to her. Think about it....how do you love PAIN!  But one day that all changed.

I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom and taking items from my moving in boxes into the new desk my Dad had made me. Yeah....he made me a desk. It's is gift, carpentry/cabinet maker, and he shares it freely....when you are related to him. Annie was having a blast.  Jumping in and out of the boxes, flipping the empty ones on their sides as well as discovering the joy of deep desk drawers with the excitement of hiding in them.

Later, with my task completed I cut down the boxes and put them in the outside trash. I gave myself the enjoyment of one more look at each meticous, newly organized drawer and shut each one.  Then I sat down to celebrate my efforts with a cold iced tea.  After maybe ten minutes I realized I'd not seen Annie in awhile so I called out to her.  She usually comes bouncing to me even though she'd never let me hold her or pick her up.  But, this time, she didn't come. I left my chair and began what I did not know would be a one hour hunt for her.

I won't even detail my panicked efforts that finally found her. Actually, I'd given up....figured she'd left! But when I sat down to release my disappointment through sewing at my new desk she popped out of the drawer I opened ! Evidently there was enough space between the drawer and the back of the desk where she'd gotten stuck. Who knew? She was gone over an hour during my hunt.

But I learned something in that moment she reappeared.   I'd invested so much taking care of her and trying to love her, heck, trying to even like her. But I'd been lying to myself.  In the moment before she popped out, I'd got teary-eyed. I realized that despite being awakened with her chomping on my flesh in the night.... Who knew! I loved her.  I missed her even!  She had added a good measure of fun to my life with her antics.  I'd been distracted from my first financially challenged summer after teaching retirement by watching her silly play and taking photos and videos continuously.

You changed my reticent heart, Annie! Who knew? 

AND POOF ! SHE WAS A CAT !

And it came.....to pass. This scripture from the Bible describes my "Annie" saga perfectly.  For six full months she was an adorable cute, bouncy, playful photo op that bloodied my fingers and arms in daylight and my toes and thighs as I slept in the night.It's in the 100's in my part of the world in the summer so we sleep on top on the covers.

My first plan to tame her was to get her spayed. And I did. Just as soon as she turned four months old.  I had to drive 30 miles away to a world famous cat sanctuary Cathouse on the Kings to get it done for $15, but it was worth it.  Within ten days of her being spayed I began to notice that she was sleeping more deeply. I could move around the house and she wouldn't awaken.  Next, a week had gone by when it suddenly dawned on me, "I've not been bitten in a week!"  

Then, I took her to Rusty's groomer to have her nails trimmed.  I did this myself when she first arrived, but now she deftly slithers from my grasp.  I couldn't fathom how she'd sit still for someone else, but by gosh she did!  Alisha trimmed her nails in less than a minute as Annie curled in a ball against her tummy and chest. I was stunned! Now, since the shop is just a few blocks away, I trim her nails every four weeks.  There should be laws against people like me who forget to do things the easy way :p

But the pièce de résistance was the evening she came up to me on my armchair where I was relaxing and wedged herself between its arm and me and went to sleep like she owned the place. AND SHE WENT TO SLEEP. Did you get that????  That was the very first time she slept by me, touching me. Waaaayyy cool.  Now it's a regular thing. She will jump up to my lap, circle me a few times, and eventually plop herself down somewhere and be cozy.

I thought the day would never come.

 

Sure! I'd Love a Sweet, Cuddly Kitty !

It had been a long, dry summer. Literally. The middle of California, well, actually, all of California was in a period a drought. We still are.  But, even worse, so was my life. I'd moved back to the city in which I'd raised my sons, retired, due to health at the time, from my teaching profession and felt  like my soul was walking through the same desert as my checkbook. 

It was June and I'd just entered my sixth month of unemployment.  Yes, I was able to substitute teach, but it meant no summer income and it was scary not to have medical insurance for the first time in my life. So I began to mull about ways to get out of myself, my misery. Ways to mentally remove myself from the panic of my circumstances....a summer with no income. Rusty and I had been visiting local assisted living and skilled nursing facilities then we stopped, when our valley 100+ temps arrived.  But we started going again.  Just to give of ourselves. To think about someone else. To care. To feel. To laugh.

One day three high school girlfriends I'd managed to reconnect with met for lunch. One of them, Cyndi, desperately needed to find a forever home for a kitten her Aussie shepherd had caught and she was caring for.  Now,  I thought she was talking about the cat to which she'd recently changed to be her Facebook profile photo.  A stunning dark blonde amber-ish cat/kitten.  'Cause you can't tell the size on a teeny photo.  Cyndi knew I'd been talking about getting a kitten so she invited back to her Mom's to see this kitten.  Thinking, "Wow, I would love to have a kitten with that beautiful coat, I said sure.  We walk into her living room and the kitty comes bouncing through. I'm surprised Cyndi and Dot couldn't hear my heart thud to their floor because this kitten wasn't the one in the photo. No no no no.  This munchkin's coat of fur was the drab gray kind of cat we used to call an alley cat when I was a kid.  Not a thing special or beautiful about her looks to me. Gray, black stripes, a little white. Eh.

But I did want a kitten. So I said yes to help out the poor ugly thing. (The kitten, not Cyndi!) They delivered her to me a week or so later when it no longer had to be bottle fed. Poor thing didn't even have a mommy (me, people!) who loved her.  Sigh.  I was hoping she'd grow on me because, after all, what's cuter than a teeny kitten to cuddle and play with. Right?  WRONG!

Good gracious God Almighty, was I a dumb blonde!  After a few hours I realized I'd never had a teeny kitten, I so did not know what I was in for!  I had no clue as to the behavior of a kitten other than if I had more than one they'd happily roll around on each other. Cuddles???? HAHAHAHAHA. People! Kittens don't cuddle! Who knew? Well, okay, not me.   Now they might fall asleep on you after their private play session, but if you do more than breathe they wake up and it's game on! And that means they just run away into another room or area to the next piece of paper on the floor or other diversion and they are happy campers. Almost.

It seems that another factoid I did not know about kittens was that they can be biters and boy could she bite. Three times that summer she bit either my leg or once my big toe in the night and clamped down so hard I had to apply alcohol and band-aids after limping and dripping blood to the bathroom! So she had to sleep the rest of the summer  in her carrier so I'd feel safe at night!  Another skill I didn't know about was that, yeah, it's okay to call me stupid, but, no, be gentle... call me uninformed, I did. not. know. kittens. claw ! By the time I started subbing again in September my little first graders were asking, "How did you hurt your arms, teacher?"  So I'd ham it up and regale them with stories about my little devil kitty. They loved it.  

Hey...I wanted to love this kitty.  But, pain is pain, and is not conducive to fond affection especially without the cuddles which were clearly a fantasy. But, hey, she was fun to watch and photograph so she was staying.  I kept thinking, "Surely she'll grow out of this biting, clamping, clawing, digging by time she's a year old.  Surely Shirley.  Question was: Did I have enough band-aids to last eight more months of this?! (To be continued)

Too many, too little, too late....

Kittens and I go way back to the summer one found me at Gramma's house in Avenal in second grade.  I called her Joopie.  Have no clue where I came up with that name. She loved me and played with me through the summer, but in a household with six kids to feed spaying kittens wasn't in the spending plan. Or maybe it just wasn't spoken about in those day. I know, as a child, I certainly didn't know to ask....so she ran away and broke my heart.  And then, there was the orange and white poofy cat who adopted our house that I named Fluffy.  But when she decided to sleep behind the wheel of our neighbor's car, well, you get the picture. Those are the two kittens that stand out in my mind, but there were lots of others. I loved them and lost them. So I finally gave up on cats and accepted loving our family dog as good enough. 

That decision changed one rainy day when I had two sons, 3 & 5, of my own.  A calico itty bitty kitty walked onto the driveway. I told my sons we'd put signs around the 'hood, but she couldn't stay. I told the boys curtly, "Kittens come, but they leave and they break your heart."  Yeah, I said that! But, hey, I was the overworked teacher/mom absolutely certain I had the power to prevent my boys from runaway cats! But, don't worry! The kitten stayed....for sixteen fun years. 

They named her Tigger, as most Calico cats are probably named and the memories she gave my guys would fill a whole wonderful book.

But Tigger went to Cat Heaven ten years ago. I retired from teaching, moved from The Bay Area of California back to my smaller hometown and whittled my possessions down to fit into an itty bitty cottage.  I thought I would return to the old friends I'd always surrounded myself with, but you can't go home again and I found myself pretty much alone expect for family. And for the very first time in my sixty-two years.....really lonely.  I still had my amazing pooch, Rusty, but it was a long hot first summer back when Cyndi told me about the kitty she'd found.  The rest, as they say, is history.  I brought her home, called her Annie (for little orphan Annie) expecting lots of cuteness and cuddles.  Well, clearly I hadn't had enough life experience with kittens because I was only half right. (To be continued )

BEYOND BLESSED. . . .

The bottom line. Rusty does not have, as diagnosed three weeks ago, congestive heart failure with a 20% enlarged heart.

There I said it.  Unbelievable, huh? My emotions have swung from lowest of low to highest of high in this time of crisis.  I was reeling and dealing with letting go of my buddy.  In my entire life I've never had the privilege of owning a dog that lived passed the age of 3. I'm talking about my own dogs, not the family dog I grew up with who lived a good long life.  Rusty is 7 or 8 so you have to know how close we've become.  Add to that the fact that I live alone and, well, there you have it.  We're tight.

I've actually put off sharing this incredible good news because I've been so overwhelmed with it. I know what you're thinking, "How could such a devastating diagnosis be so....off?"  Well, through my mist in my eyes our vet finished my question when I attempted to ask him.  This was his reply:  "They didn't make a mistake. Without the echo cardiogram I just performed, the symptoms they observed did mimic the diagnosis they gave you."  He went on, "Does he have a big heart? Yes....but it is at the high end of normal for his skeletal frame. Actually, it shows you've done a great job walking him all his life!" (Shhhh, no, I didn't confess his lack of walks these last three months due to re-injuring my replaced knee. Seriously?)

I lost it then, the tears brimming my eyes gently trickled down as I choked out, "Thank you so much." He continued, "That's the good news. He does have some concerns, though. He still does have his heart murmur. This is because he has a larger leak in his mitral valve and a much smaller leak in his tricuspid valve. He should be watched the rest of his life for enlargement possibilities of these leaks and medicated as needed. In addition, see these cloudy circles in his lungs? From what you've told me of his history , I'd say he has "lower airway disease" which is caused by allergies.  Rusty feels like he has chronic bronchitis, which is why you took him to the ER with labored breathing and which explains that you've told me he doesn't dance around so much anymore."

In the end, we were able to leave with instructions to cease the heart medication and the diuretic. They were replaced with an antibiotic to clear up those bacterial clouds in his lungs and a bronchodilator. We also left with orders to lose the two pounds he's gained since my inability to walk him. Busted. So I shared with the nice vet my walking dilemma.  His suggestion was to search craigslist for a cast off treadmill. Duh.  But visions of my HGTV plum and latte bedroom haven began declining in status in my mind's eye. (Maybe a tall "hide-the-treadmill screen?) 

Sometimes life's losses, like a career, and its disappointments are heaped so close together we begin to despair.  There is a psychiatric term, dysthymia, that describes this despair.  "Hopeless and helpless."  Too much, too soon in between.  But, in an instant, that despair can cease.  In my world it can be turned around with an abundance of prayer.  I believe that is what has happened in this crisis this time. I prayed, threw in a little creative crowd funding and dear friends, old friends, and all of those in between dug deep and donated to my ability to better diagnose and treat Rusty so he could live a productive pooch's life. He will continue to do his tricks for the hospitals and assisted living facilities we visit, and he will continue to provide me with his special talents and the awesome oxytocin looking into his smile brings forth. Thank you deeply and immensely my friends. In my little corner of the world your thoughtfulness has encouraged me and made me feel so much that, even though unemployed for a year now....I still matter. And as long as I keep giving in my little ways, life will continue to be good. Very good indeed. I may have less, but I have enough.

She Came, She Saw, but She SO Did Not Conquer

Itty Bitty Annie

Look. at. that. face. How could it hurt to love that face?  Well, I'm going to tell you how! The itty bitty cute kitty face up there is representative of kittens everywhere who completely get off the hook for mauling their humans because they are that cute! But I digress.

My friend, Cyndi, hooked me up with that hunk of cuteness up there.  Cyndi has a marvelous Australian Shepherd dog, Roo, who has a special talent for chasing squirrels....and catching them! Then he often proudly presents them to Cyndi for approval and validation of his prowess. But, on a hot June day, at her mom's house, Roo presented Cyndi with this little diva in his mouth! He had evidently seen this kitty when she climbed under the fence from a neighbor's yard. Surely Roo thought, "Hey! It's the same color as a squirrel! It moves like a squirrel! It must be A SQUIRREL!!! YUM!"  And so he caught it! Mighty easily, I am sure, since as an itty bitty kitty she surely couldn't have possibly even tried to run from Roo. 

Seeing movement on the patio, Cyndi glanced up to see something in Roo's mouth at the door and thought, "That's not a squirrel! No, Roo, no!!!!" Then rushed to rescue "the squirrel" much to Roo's disappointment I am sure. (To be continued)