Dream State

The past few weeks, especially this week, have seemed sort of unreal to me. This week is definitely because of losing Bunky; he's been around for so long when he wasn't supposed to be that I thought he would ALWAYS be here with us. Work has been changing a lot too, and although it was initially my doing, I'm not really sure if it's good or not. I hope this clears up soon because it feels strange.

I thought that I would break down sobbing at some point over Bunky, at least once, since I did twice for melon. maybe that's a part of it, the grief is stuck inside and can't come out for some reason. I have moments where I well up a bit (we got a card today from the vet who told us he would be dead within a year back in 1998; it was a few simple phrases but very sweet and heartfelt. You would think vets always have clinical detachment, but I guess sometimes they don't), but no sobbing. I don't know if it will happen now, and I don't know what that means. Maybe the scab will be ripped off next week when I pick up his ashes.

Two things I wanted to mention about Bunk was the way he liked to snuggle you. He would bury his head in your armpit or elbow and be content to lay that way until you moved. Being cat people, we would try our hardest not to disturb the cats unless we lost total feeling in the snuggled appendage. I liked to scratch his back hard, I'm not sure if he liked it or not, but I wouldn't stop until he made this "mrat" noise. I hope he liked it. He would also give you a kiss on the mouth sometimes, but you really had to beg for it. He gave me one on Saturday, which is nice to remember now.

I still hope to write blogs about the rest of our animals, past and present. I'll try to get moving on that. Taking a break from Facebook to do something mildly constructive on the internet would be a refreshing change of pace. You may also have noticed that my book blog posts have fallen by the wayside. I was going to note that here awhile back when I joined Goodreads, but I stopped updating that too. Oh well, maybe I'll try again next year. One book-related promise I made to myself is to read the children's book The Enormous Egg this year. Why? The summer between 4th and 5th grade, we did a summer reading project where you would get a prize if you read the most books. I forgot what the prize was, but I won handily with 100 books. The Enormous Egg was on the list, but I actually did not read it. I had a pile of library books that had to be returned, so I just returned them all and told my mom that I had read them all. I felt bad about it, but it wouldn't have affected the outcome. To this day I feel bad about this, which is why I finally want to read it. Is that weird?

Goodbye Bunky.

I hoped that I wouldn't have to write another one of these posts so soon after Melon passed away, but it was not to be.

Bunky had been sneezing on and off for a few weeks and had also lost some weight. We had planned on taking him to the vet, but we were having some trouble paying our bills, so we kept putting it off. Aside from the sneezing, he seemed fine. He was eating well and constantly underfoot as usual, especially when I was preparing food. This past Friday he was in the kitchen, on his hind legs begging for cheese. Saturday he was with us on the couch while we were watching tv and had taken a nap with us in the afternoon. By Sunday though, he didn't respond at all to us calling for him, and also was not interested in the wet food we gave to him (he normally ate dry food). Remembering what Melon went through, we got the syringe out and gave him the juice from the cat food, then some chicken broth later on. He threw some of it back up but kept most of it down, which made us think that because he was congested, he couldn't smell the food and didn't want to eat it. So we put him in the bathroom when we took a shower and ran it a few times when we weren't, and it seemed to help him. Late Sunday night he was very lethargic and fighting the force feeding more, and he would make this long, distressed mewling sound which scared me. We talked about going to the emergency vet, but we knew we couldn't afford it.

I called our regular vet the next morning while I was at work. The only time they could fit us in was at 10, but I couldn't get off work that early on short notice, and Sarah couldn't leave work because she was there by herself. The vet receptionist made me feel bad about that, which I didn't care for. We settled on Tuesday at 10, so we tried to make Bunky comfortable until then. We tried giving him more broth, but he was fighting us even more. I went to bed early so I could get out of work in time to take him to the vet the next morning. I got up at 10 and Sarah was upset and said that we should probably take him to the emergency vet to have him euthanized. She said he looked yellow like Melon did, so it was probably going to mean more force feeding for him if we tried to keep him alive. We had agreed to stop doing this to Melon, so it made sense to do the same for Bunky, even though it hurt both of us to lose him.

We took him to the emergency vet and they told us what we feared, that he was most likely experiencing liver failure and had pneumonia, and there was no guarantee that he would be able to bounce back, so we let him go. The really strange thing was that just the week before, I had a dream that I was chasing Bunky and finally caught him, because he needed to be put to sleep. I finally caught him and gave him half a pill (we give our dog half a thyrozine pill every meal), and he died in my arms. It freaked me out a little bit when I remembered it afterwards.

For some reason losing Bunky was not as upsetting to me as losing Melon was. One reason may have been that we knew he was going to die from the first day we had him. My sister said that maybe because we just went through this with Melon, it made Bunky's death easier to deal with. Also, he went downhill so fast. Aside from the sneezing, he didn't seem sick at all on Friday. I'm not saying I'm not upset at all; I am. When I came home from work, he was always the first to greet me at the door, and I missed that yesterday. It was also weird last night when I was making dinner, no one was in the kitchen looking for food. I take comfort in the fact that we helped him defy the odds and that he lived a long and hopefully happy life. He could get overbearing at times, and I feel bad about how I reacted to that sometimes. But like Sarah said, he just wanted to always be near us, and that's not a bad thing.

Rest in peace Bunky, I'm glad that you came into our lives and I love you very much and I will miss you terribly.

Winnie.

Continuing our cat series, Winnie is now the 3rd in command. I mentioned him in passing before, he was one of the first four domesticated cats that we took in as rescues (the first was a single feral mom and her kittens who stayed in our bathroom). The 4 cats were perfectly healthy; Sarah brought them home because the woman who had them didn't want them anymore and was going to take them to the SPCA, which was definitely not a no-kill shelter back then. Joining Winnie was an annoying but cute kitten named Tigger, and a pregnant married couple named Kanga and Blackfoot (bet you can't guess what we named one of Kanga's babies!).

Winnie was very skittish when he first came to us. He stayed under the bed for at least a week until he got to know us.Eventually we made friends with him and he became a very sweet boy. He also became a sort of mediator between all of the cats as the room he was in filled up with more cats. He was friendly to everyone and liked to play with the other cats and with any kind of dangly toy (we have one that has a jingle bell on it that is Winnie's favorite).

Eventually we adopted out most everyone out of the room so we could have it back as a bedroom, but Winnie wasn't one of them. We put the few remaining cats back outside for a little bit (they were all outdoor cats to begin with), but then we decided to bring them back inside and keep them ourselves. I think Winnie still remembers this brief period, as every once in awhile he manages to escape. He also likes to man the doors and windows too see what is going on outside. We can tell when there is a feline interloper outside, because Winnie meows weirdly when he sees one. We can also tell when something interesting is happening outside by Winnie trotting quickly from window to door to window. All part of the curiousness, I guess.

Winnie had a little bit of trouble convincing Sunny and Bunk that he could be their friend, but he eventually won everyone over. We were a little worried about Winnie catching HIV from those two, but we found out later that someone who gave us their cats for rescue didn't tell us that one of them was FIV positive, so Winnie may have already had it. But when we had him tested later on, he was negative, so we think he is immune to it.

Winnie is about 9 and is still very active. I mentioned the constant trotting, but he also likes wrestling. Bailey is his main partner, but Melon also liked to wrestle with Winnie. Winnie would wrestle with them for a few minutes, then fake walk away and comeback and attack. Very sneaky.

Winnie was in the first I Can Has Cheezburger book! If you need that explained to you, I can't help you. Sarah bought an old library card catalog to put her rubber stamps into. She was in the midst of doing that when I found that Winnie had climbed into it and was just hanging out in there. I went to get the camera, and he actually stayed in there until after I had gotten a few pictures. I uploaded it to Cheezburger and put a caption on it (which in retrospect, doesn't make any sense). I was disappointed that it didn't get any votes or make the homepage, and I forgot about it until I got an email from the Cheezburger people, who wanted to use it in their first book. Check towards the end of the book for the picture of Winnie!

I'm glad we kept Winnie. He is sweet boy and plays well with others, which I cannot say about all of the cats. Plus, he hasn't really been sick. One time he was moping excessively and not active at all, but we took him to the vet, he got a shot and was all better. Right now he is "mowing," and we can't figure out why, so he is going back to the vet. he usually takes it in stride, and they love him at the vet because he is so good-natured. The only negative against Winnie is his penchant for using my testicles as a jumping-off point when he doesn't want to be on my lap anymore. :(

Goodbye Melon.

Those of you who are my friends on Facebook may know that our sweet girl Melon passed away on Saturday. We think she was around 9 or so. I wrote the blog post about her towards the end of January, and she was still very heavy then. She started to lose weight soon after that. We thought it was because she was constantly running around and wrestling with a few of our other cats. We had just brought in Hedwig to be an inside cat a few months previous, and she and Melon kind of became chasing buddies, i.e. they would chase each other all over the house. That's why we didn't think anything of the weight loss.

We went on vacation in the beginning of March, and Melon had dropped some more weight, but she was still very active with the other cats. When we came back it was a different story. She was markedly thinner than she was when we left, and she was hardly active at all. The Monday after we came back, she could jump on our bed, but by Wednesday she couldn't. She would hang on the side until we lifted her up. We took her to the vet and he told us that her liver was failing. He showed me where her skin was yellow, which I had not noticed before. He told us that we had to make her eat, which was the only way she could have a chance at getting better. He didn't know if the FIV was going to be a complication until we could stabilize her liver.

One option was a feeding tube, which involved surgery. I was there with Melon by myself so I told the vet I had to talk to Sarah about it. He gave us some special food and a large syringe and told us in the meantime to force feed her. She was so weak that force feeding her with the syringe wasn't a problem, but she did throw up quite a few times right after. We looked up feline feeding tubes on the web, and all the cats that had them looked miserable. We didn't think she would adapt well to the feeding tube, because she was constantly scratching at her pet collar thing after she had her surgery. She was also throwing up, which meant she could also throw up the feeding tube. The vet also said that there was no guarantee how long it would take her to eat by herself again, if at all.

We took her back to the vet after five days, and she hadn't lost any weight, so we decided to try harder with the force feeding. She was also dehydrated, so the vet gave us an IV drip bag that we had to use on her with a needle. I was hesitant to do this, and Sarah doesn't even like looking at needles, but Melon took the needle okay the first few times while Sarah held her. Thursday night was the end of the IV fluids though, she was struggling more and the needle came out halfway through. Through all of this, she would have good times and bad. She might be really bad in the morning, but she would be perky and a little active when I got home from work. But the force feeding was making all of us miserable.

Friday morning while I was at work, I got a tearful call from Sarah. She had tried force feeding Melon that morning, but she threw it back up. Sarah didn't want to torture her anymore, and I was in agreement, even though I didn't want to lose Melon. Sarah said she would call to make an appointment to euthanize Melon that night, but I asked her to make it for next morning, so Melon could have one last peaceful night with us. Both of us were glad that we had that last night together, even if I had to go to work early so we could make the appointment. Melon was glad too, as she seemed much happier not being poked or prodded.

The night at work was rough, because all I could think about was Melon and how she wouldn't be with us anymore. I was very upset, as she had become my favorite, but I knew she was suffering and I didn't want her to hurt anymore. My brain knew this, but my heart didn't. We took her to the vet without a carrier this time so she wouldn't be too stressed out. The people at the vet were very nice, they allow you to pay beforehand so you don't have to linger too long afterwards if you're upset. The vet was different from the one who initially treated Melon, but we know her well and she was very good to us and Melon. Both of us were crying hard after she was gone, and Sarah had to leave the room before I did. I didn't want to leave because I would never see her again.

I managed to hold it together somewhat until we got home, and it hit me like a ton of bricks and I pretty much broke down sobbing for about 5 minutes. Losing pets is extremely hard for me, I'm actually crying right now as I'm writing this. Like I said before, I didn't want her to suffer, but a part of me wanted to be selfish and keep her with us so it wouldn't hurt. I know we did the right thing for her, even if it did make us sad.

When we came back from the vet, I took everything out of our bedroom that we put in there special for Melon. I didn't want to be reminded of her being sick. We both took a nap after that, but I didn't sleep well. I know I had dreams about Melon, but I couldn't remember them. Last night I had a dream that I was chasing Hedwig through a mall, and somehow she was yelling (or meowing, I guess) Melon's name over and over as she ran. We went to my in-laws for dinner, but I wasn't all there, I was still thinking about Melon. It hit me hard again when we went to bed, because she had spent the last week and a half with us in the bedroom. The same thing happened last night when I went to bed, and I'm sure it will happen tonight as well. It will take time. The worst part about that is that we had her cremated separately, so it will hurt all over again when I go to pick up her ashes. We never liked the fact of having our pets cremated anonymously. We buried the first cat we had to have cremated, but not the ones after that. We didn't want them to be cold underground. I know that sounds stupid, but that's how we feel.

Melon, you were such a good, brave, sweet, beautiful girl. I'm so glad that we were able to be your people, even if it was for only a short time. We and all of your kitty and doggie friends will miss you very much. Rest in peace sweet girl, we love you so much.

Melon

I realized that I have been errant in keeping up with blogs about our cats, so here is another in a continuing series that I will try to update more frequently.

In 2004 Sarah and I started doing cat rescue. We had a feral mom and her kittens in the downstairs bathroom (which we weren't really using at the time), and four cats in the spare bedroom upstairs. These cats were on their way to the SPCA to be put down by their annoyed owner until Sarah stepped in and brought them home. More on them later.

In the midst of this, we thought it would be a GREAT idea to have another cat of our own, as we only had two at the time (those were the days). We were taking our rescue cats to the Delaware Humane Association because they had a very inexpensive spay/neuter program, compared to the local vets. We were looking through their website one day, and they had a photo gallery of all of the available animals for adoption, and we saw this photo of Melon:

Sarah and I both fell in love with Melon from this picture. The caption said he was a sweet boy and that he had FIV. Both of our cats also had FIV, so we figured what's one more cat? Sure.

I took a trip up to DHA to meet Melon. The first thing I found out was that he was a she, they assumed that Melon was a boy because she was an orange tabby, which is apparently rare in females (score!). They kept the sick cats out behind the main building, I don't remember if it was another building or just a shelter, but whomever was sick and contagious were kept out there. One of the staff took me out there and went inside and brought Melon out, into what I guess was the foyer part. There were other cats there walking around, seemingly starved for attention, and it did make me kind of sad and I wanted to take all of them home. The woman gave Melon to me and she was very small and very sweet, and let me put my face up to hers, which hardly any of the cats at home let me do. I decided that I wanted to take her home, and I thought Sarah would agree.

The director of DHA had gotten wind that I was there and was looking to adopt an FIV positive cat. He came out and asked me a lot of questions, I guess he wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to perform experiments on Melon or something like that. I assured him that we had FIV cats at home and just wanted to add to the party. He seemed assuaged by that and I made an appointment for Sarah and I to come back and pick her up.

Our other two cats at the time were male (incidentally, they both still are male), and Melon did not get along with them at all. She was always growling at them when they walked by her, and they seemed to give her a wide berth (the year before, we had acted as a sort of hospice for a terminally ill female cat who acted pretty much the same as Melon, more on her later). She also was very standoffish to us. It took her about 3 years before she would sit with us on the couch or tolerate petting from us. Our poor dog Niffler really got the short end of the deal, as he was never hostile to any of the cats, but they always were to him (not for long, more on that later, probably much later).

Melon eventually ingratiated herself to us and the rest of the cats, and will play with some of them, but not all of them. She really enjoys ripping up carpet, especially when she has a freakout and rips up the carpeting on the stairs. She's really done a number on those stairs.

A few years ago she got sick and she needed exploratory surgery. When she came home she had to wear a collar (which she was VERY happy about, as you can see) and stay in our room by herself for close to a month. She made a divot in the carpet by the door, always trying to get out. Later on, after she was better, she made another divot on the opposite side of the door trying to get back in. Cats.

Luckily the vet couldn't find anything, but after the surgery she... changed, a little bit. She gained a lot of weight, which is weird because she chases the other cats around quite a bit (we call her Melon Ball). When she lays on the floor on her side her legs almost stick up in the air. She also meows differently. I don't know how to describe it, maybe it sounds scratchier than her meow used to, but it's definitely different. She also has this weird tic with her tongue now, like she's trying to clean herself but failing. She's still a sweetheart though, maybe even moreso than before the surgery. She's a very good sleeping companion, she's not one who is trying to get you to pet her when you're trying to go to sleep. She stays near the foot of the bed and observes personal space rules. She will come to you if you call her to get some pets, but then she will go back to the foot of the bed when she gets tired of it. She also likes sitting on our lap or by our feet when we're on the couch watching tv. She makes the recliner go back down when she jumps on it though. She is a very sweet girl and even though we had too many cats at the time we got her, I'm glad we did.

Lost in the Supermarket

When I got to work this morning, there was a cat underneath the store van. I walked a little closer to see it, and I realized that it was Byler #2, with whom I had been previously acquainted. Let me explain that.

Several years ago in December, I got to work one morning, and as was my habit, I went around the store and checked all the doors to make sure they were locked. I didn't turn on the lights in those areas, because there was usually enough light to walk to the door and check it. I was in the back room of the stove shop when I saw something move across the door leading into the bakery. It was a big something, not rodent sized, and it scared the heck out of me. Right near that door are stairs going down into the crawlspace, which is where the big something came from. I went to work and forgot about it.

A few days later, I was walking past the deli cooler, and I noticed the meat ends packages were open and bitten into (the deli throws the ends of the cold cuts into a package and sells them). I didn't know what to make of that, as I had forgotten about the big something I saw.

A couple days after that, I was checking the same door, and someone had left the light on near the stairs. When I turned from the door, there was a small gray cat standing there. When I turned, it bolted into the crawlspace. I ran over to see if i could catch it, but it was gone somewhere under the building. I now had the culprit for the missing meat ends. I could smell cat urine down there too. There was a lot of gravel down there, so she was probably using it as a giant litter box.

The next day I was out in the store (in the early am, so I was by myself), and I saw movement from the corner of my eye, and I quickly turned around and saw the cat again. Only this was a brown cat. So now there were TWO culprits eating the meat ends. When the managers came in, I told them that I saw two cats in the building. They explained to me that they had recently sealed up all the holes in the building, and the cats were probably two of the kittens that lived in the barn behind the store (it looks like a barn, but we use it as a warehouse). It was cold, and they had probably got into the store to keep warm, but now they were trapped. These were feral cats, so there wasn't any way of picking them up and taking them out.

We had two humane animal traps at home, because we had been doing cat rescue at the time. I asked the managers if it was okay if I set up the traps in the store to get them out, which was fine with them. It was very near Christmas, so I was going in around 9 pm at night. I set up a trap in the crawlspace, and two days later I caught one of them, and took her home to wait for her brother to be caught. I set up another trap in the deli, and I actually saw the cat in the trap eating the food, but he didn't trip it closed. I walked all the way around and snuck up on the cat, which amazingly didn't hear me. I smacked the top of the trap, thinking it would shut, but it just scared the hell out of the cat and he ran away. I didn't think I would be able to catch him with the trap after that, but by that time they were putting the meat ends and the bags of cat food away at night, so there was nothing else for them to eat. I caught the other one the next night in the crawlspace.

Now we had two feral cats in our craft room. We made an appointment for them to be spay/neutered at Delaware Humane Association, which does low cost spay neuter, as well as adoptions. We didn't name the cats, so we just called them Byler #1 and Byler #2. The store didn't pay for this, we did, but I didn't ask and I didn't expect them to pay either. We had been doing this for some time, so it seemed like the right thing to do in this case. Most of the people at work thought I was weird for doing this. Maybe not just for this, but oh well. :)

We had to keep them for a few days after the spay/neuter (they stayed right in the traps, thank you). After the few days, we brought both of them back to the store and set them free by the barn/warehouse. We had bought a 20 lb. bag of food and just dumped it behind the barn for them to eat. I did this regularly for awhile, but eventually I had to stop, as it was getting expensive. They lived for at least a year after they were born without being fed regularly, so I figured they could keep it going.

The brown kitty was Byler #1. I saw him only once after he was neutered. He was not happy to see me. The gray kitty, Byler #2, was possibly the cutest kitty Sarah and I had ever seen (I think we took pictures of them in the traps, but I cannot find them). I saw her many times after she was spayed. Most times were when I surprised her in the dumpster. I would have to throw something out when the store was not yet open, so I would open the back door and lob the item into the dumpster. Every once in awhile a frightened kitty would jump out and run back to the barn.

I saw her less and less as the years passed, I think now I maybe see her once a year. It has been said that spay/neuter lengthens a cat's life, so maybe that's why I'm still seeing her from time to time. She's still as cute as ever!

Jr. Bunk

Jr. Bunk is currently the second in command in our house. He was the first cat we found after we moved to DE. We were at a junk shop in south DE and we saw him when we were leaving. We thought he looked a lot like Bruiser, but he was in a lot worse shape. He had obviously been fighting, I suppose to get whatever food he could (there were quite a few other stray cats lurking around), and he had a flea problem. We left the junk shop and didn't discuss him for a few days, but both of us were thinking about him. I had named him in my head. We called Bruiser Bruiser Bunk sometimes, which was based on a character from Homicide: Life On The Street. So it seemed fitting that he be called Jr. Bunk (the actual character's name) on a few levels. We decided to go and get him.

We went back to the junk shop and asked the man if we could have one of the cats, and he said we could take all of them if we wanted. But we just took Bunky. I don't remember him giving us any trouble when we put him in the carrier, but he may have. We made a vet appointment for him that day, because we didn't want to bring him into the house with all those fleas. We had to kill some time, so we went to eat lunch at Burger King, and Bunk was kicking up a fuss in the back seat. We took him to the vet, and he had shots and tests and a flea bath. We took him home to our apartment, and put him in the half bath in our bedroom, again so he wouldn't mix with the other two cats until we heard from the vet.

This is when we learned about FIV, which is called feline AIDS. Neither of us had ever heard about it, and apparently it was pretty new to the vets as well, because his doctor told us that he would be dead within a year. That was 11 years ago. (My tired joke for this is that we should have gotten it in writing.) He could NOT be let out with the other cats, because he would make them sick and they would all soon be dead. We now know that this isn't the case, that some cats are immune and cats who have it can live full, healthy lives. But back then it scared us to death. We decided that we would leave him in our bedroom once he got healthier.

That also was a trial. The bathroom floor was thick with dead fleas and ticks, and he had horrfic smelling diarrhea for a week. But he did get better, so we let him into the bedroom, where he became a feline nightmare. He would attack our toes in the night, and he would jump up on the bed with a crazed look in his eyes. Eventually, Sarah couldn't take anymore and started sleeping in the extra bedroom. I stuck it out for a bit longer, but I had to join her. The worst part of this setup was: we were only planning on being in the apartment for a year or less, until we found a house. So we only unpacked what we needed and used the extra bedroom as a storage facility. So we had to make room on the floor for our mattress, and we slept like that for almost an entire year. I was counting down the days until Bunk's demise so we could have our bedroom back.

We moved into our house, and Bunky took up residence in the master bedroom (again), only this time he shared it with all of the unpacked boxes! Hah! We had a hard time keeping him in there, which was exacerbated by the fact that we would let him out periodically and keep an eye on him; if he got too close to the other cats, we put him back. It was in this era, one night at 2 am on our way to bed, that we opened the bedroom door, and there was Bunky just sitting on the floor, meowing at us. He was not trying to get out, so we suspected something was wrong. We tried to pick him up and he let out a screech, so we had to take him to the vet. At 3 in the morning on a Sunday. That was a bit pricey. It turned out that he had crystals in his bladder, which was blocking his urethra. This was caused by stress, which of course was caused by keeping him locked up.

So we let him out. Sunny either got FIV from him then, or he already had it from the brief forays that Bunk made into the house (sorry Sunny). Bruiser was sick in other ways and he never got FIV. Bunky immediately made up for being locked up for 4 years by walking everywhere that I walked, especially on the stairs, which I almost fell down twice because of that. He has calmed down a lot with that, but he still needs to be wherever we are. If we call any of the cats or the dog, Bunk will come running first. He likes to cuddle, which is fine, except he never learned to cuddle without his claws, which really hurt. And you can't really pick him up comfortably; he is extremely taut and only goes one way. If you pick him up the wrong way you get a chest full of claws. The vet actually called him a "bowling ball with fur."

Bunk is still plugging away, he's right here next to me on the floor. When we watch TV he will be on the couch, and he is so stealthy sometime that I won't realize that he is on my lap. And he has a weird sensitivity to sounds, he could be bored to tears during a thunderstorm, but a sharp intake of breath makes him jump and shred my skin. But he's a good dude.

Mango

This sweet girl is Mango. She unfortunately escaped from her home and ran into a person who poured lighter fluid on her and set her on fire, giving her burns over 70% of her body. After being cared for by Merced CA vet Dr. Christine McFadden via rescue group New Beginnings for Animals, she was taken to Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab, Utah. She was well cared for there, but she developed a reaction to the anesthesia that she needed when her bandages were changed. Mango had to be euthanized a few days ago due to the complication from the anesthesia.

How do you look into that face and do something like that?

Slow.

Today was one of the slowest Saturdays we've had in awhile. I can't really judge it though, since I left 3 hours after we opened, and there were 8 hours left to go. It's usually very busy for the first hour on Saturday, and then it gets extremely busy around 10.30-11. Neither of those things happened. I was hoping to get out after 8 hours, but that didn't happen either. It rarely does.

I have had a nap already, but I still feel pretty crappy. I'm going to sit my ample butt down on the couch and do nothing. This is basically how I feel:

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

I give up.

I said in an earlier Blomo post (Monica's shorthand, and awesome) that I would be clever this month and have all of my titles relate to the Blomo theme this month, which is giving (up). I had planned on using song titles etc., but you know what? I'm not just physically lazy. Plus most of the songs I can think of that have "give" in there somewhere would relate to my post about Sarah, so you see my problem. If I can stick to the theme at all, fine, if not, bleah.

I also see that I use the word eventually too much, and that I do like my adverbs, despite Stephen King's advice. Hopefully I can fix that.

My mother and father-in-law are on a two month vacation, so I am taking care of their cat Mao (the only cat that can say his name!), but just in a scooping capacity. Mao used to belong to us, he was a rescue cat and my in-laws adopted him. Mao is pretty gigantic as far as cats go, but he's not fat, he's big boned (I'm serious). If you looked in his litter box, you'd think that a medium sized dog was pooping in there. This is a lot of setup for the epiphany I'm trying to tell you about.

Since July I have had a protruding disc in my back (it's at L5 if you're keeping score). It doesn't make my back hurt, but it really hurts my right leg, because it's playing with my right leg nerve or something like that. I'm taking meds and was doing exercises for it. I can walk around fine, it's the sitting that really hurts. Plus I have a heel problem in my other legs, so sometimes I'm a waddling fool. It's been much better lately, Dr. Sister PT says that most back injuries heal themselves in 6 or so months (which is also what my neurologist said). Yes, this is more setup, sorry.

We had a lot of snow on Monday, probably the most we've had since we've lived in DE, which is 11 years. I have been going to scoop for Mao every 3 days or so, and I was due yesterday. It occurred to me that I was going to be in trouble when I went over there, because no one would have shoveled the driveway, which is pretty large, and I wasn't able to get out of mine on Monday morning. I was shoveling a bit on Monday while it was still snowing, and it was torturous. I had to come in after 15 minutes and lay on my stomach for 45 minutes just to feel better. I have gained a lot of weight in the past year, so I'm not sure how much of it is that, and how much is my protruding disc (I'm blaming most of it on protruding disc for laziness purposes). So thank God for my brother in law. He's pretty security conscious, so he went over there and shoveled the driveway and the front walk just to make it look like there was someone at home. Yay! Oh right, I mentioned an epiphany. Here it comes.

We don't have any kids, and we are not planning on having any (more on that later). I was finishing the driveway today so Sarah could get her car out, and it was getting a bit easier to do, probably because I have been doing it everyday this week. I realized that I really need to take care of myself, because I don't know if I will ever be able to retire, and I don't know if I will be able to afford to hire people to do what I can't do anymore when I'm older. We won't have any kids to take care of us when we are old. I'm not complaining about that, but I'm not going to make up some kids just for that reason. I basically need to get off my butt and cook better and eat better and also go back to the Y, which I've been to once or twice in the past year, despite paying for it every month. I just hope that it's not too late. I'm 39 now, and they say life begins at 40, and I'm going to try hard to make that happen.