Thursday, September 29, 2011

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Our Cats and Their Vet: Not Exactly a Love Story

Yesterday, Dr. McKensie, the mobile veterinarian, came. Autumn had a sore under her jaw and we got nervous. We put Autumn in the upstairs bathroom and managed to get Moon and Kiki into the sunroom. Tigger smelled something and took off. When the vet arrived, she located Tigger quickly and at that, he zoomed around the house ending inside one of the two sofas in the family room. He was the bulge in the arm. Dr. McKensie gave him the rabies shot through the fabric. We cracked up. Then the good doctor headed into the sunroom for the other two boys. Two people were needed to cut off Moon's knots. None of our cats scratch or bite; Moon is an expert squirmer though. After the boys, it was Autumn's turn. Kiki came out of the sunroom, sat down, and watched intently. It turned out that Autumn had an infection of her inner lip and a pimple under her jaw. The doc gave her a shot to address her problem and we'll watch her for a week. She might need more care. We'll see.
All our cats gained a lot of weight. Kiki is very overweight but he noses the other boys away from their bowls and eats their food. Moon usually comes upstairs and shares Autumn's food. Doc McKensie recommended chicken baby food and tuna fish in water for all of them. That way they would avoid all the additives and preservatives in the canned cat food. They have a good dry food that's always available. They don't pig out on that.
This morning, I slept with Autumn, her paws on my right arm and her head tucked in between. Her beautiful strawberry blond fur brushed my face. I adore that cat.

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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

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spiritual spring

Back again. One or two meds causing me problems. Car sickness, light-headedness, and depression. I thought I was going to pass out in Home Depot. I didn't, and I made it back to the car. I stopped the Simvastatin. I won't take a medication that causes that stuff. What kind of life is that? None. I see the doc Friday.
Time to make the donuts, er painting.
Another day, no dollar. It looks like a lovely Saturday to sit in the garden with a book. (I've already fooled around with my Iphone.) I did sit in the garden for more than an hour until it seemed to be starting to rain, then I came in and watched shows about ghosts. Except for one, none of the spirits were related to the folks seeing them. The only spirit I actually saw in the flesh was my neighbor's aunt who I knew pretty well, so she wasn't a stranger. I've had lots of experiences with my family's spirits and those always feel good. Lately the drawers of my desk in here have been closing occasionally, but it doesn't feel scary. I think it's just a family member, if in fact it's not something non-phenomenal, like gravity hitting just once in a while. I hope it's my cousin. He originally threw shoes, closed desk drawers, pulled up shades, and left cigarette smoke, all separately. I was hoping he would blanket me in ciggie smoke on the airplane going out to my brother's the way he did last time, but no, didn't happen.
I try to tell friends when they lose someone close to them to ask that spirit to come talk, let everyone know how they are. Eventually, I was able to do that after I got over the hysterical grieving for my cousin. I knew dying was his choice rather than living through machines or in a nursing home even before he told me.
I know I may look like a wacko saying all this stuff and I hope the folks who have that reaction will not tell me if we're friends. The only experiences I insist were real actually are the ones I experienced while I was awake and alert. Seeing Aunt Millie. Spirits touching me and talking in my ear. For absolutely sure, I know that stuff was real and that tells me there is something going on that we can't see.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

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Our Cats and Grandpuppy

Tuesday is visiting and I'm sleeping half the night with her, and half back upstairs with Autumn, who is my little kitty baby. That's her. She was taken from her mother too early and I've substituted. Our children are both adults but not ready for their own children, so our cats are our babies now. Tuesday is our grandpuppy who acts something like a two-year-old. She brings her toys to show me over and over, usually not for me to throw, just for me to make a fuss. She's relaxing now in the parlor, and actively avoiding going outside. If it's raining, she'd rather stay in.

Our three male cats are used to Tuesday visiting now. Moon even eats from his plate on the floor next to Tuesday. The cats ignore her. Autumn stays upstairs because two of the boy cats scare her. She has her own stash of food and two kitty litters. Much to Autumn's good quality of life, I usually spend most of the night sleeping in my Lazy-boy with her. I have neck and back problems that do better there. Harry has the bedroom to himself unless that night the bed seems to offer more comfort. Then, my ear plugs go in because Autumn stands by the door and cries loudly. Harry doesn't hear her even when he's up using the bathroom. Because he is up so often during the night and can't hear, he doesn't want the cats jumping up and down on the bed. They stay out at night.

Harry and I have always had cats. Never four like now, but four cats are hardly more work than just one. It's nice having four little beings walking around just being themselves.

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Sunday, September 04, 2011

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Talking Back!

Life is strange, good at times, and definitely youth is wasted on the young. Or maybe not. Retirement is truly freedom, release, and a piece of heaven. The only downside is the knowledge that you have maybe twenty years if you're lucky. Good health is the elephant in the room. Without that, a long life is torture. Any life can end with crying in a nursing home to please be allowed to die as a prayer to anyone who will listen, preferably, God.
Knees creak and ache. Sometimes, for some people, everything seems to hurt. For me, unlike most others, lupus has been more a gift than a curse. Maybe it was a curse years ago when I worked, but a short memory is a blessing sometimes.
I hated working; the only thing I liked about working was making money. Painting was never work, but it really didn't pay either. Mom fought authority and guess what I did?! My unspoken goal was to correct ungentleman-like behavior of bosses to their faces. Somehow they were shocked and not appreciative. The suffering or unfairness of their decisions didn't bother them the way it did me. I saw them as evil-doers and corporate climbers willing to get ahead--and help their buddies--any way they could and the public--or their underlings--be damned. Why my ways weren't part of the corporate structure didn't mystify me, but I was always upset when I didn't get promoted or got fired. In the end, I probably lost a couple dollars in my monthly retirement pay. It was worth it.
There was one time I probably was wrong and I'm sorry about that time. I took someone else's tale as truth. Bad idea. The offended administrator truly was clawing her way up and jealous of anyone with integrity combined with education. That meant me especially because I wasn't quiet enough and was working under someone else who was a psycho. The combined effect of that adventure was a promotion to another job that suited me better. It worked out but I wish I had focused on what was obvious about the woman rather than anything else. Lesson learned was only write what you see personally.
What I see now is life unchained. I've escaped city living and the corrupt politics I knew for so many years. I graduated to a beautiful house with a lovely garden in a college town not so far away from my old home. Definitely good riddance and no regrets. My beloved cousin said, "All we have to do is be." I would add and be "good enough". I am, and I'm glad I never kept my mouth shut.

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