Pics

Oh my gosh, poor neglected blog!
The days zoom by so fast, and Facebook takes up more of my time than blogging lately.

For now, a couple of pics around San Diego.

Outside the La Jolla Music and Arts Library, The Atheneum.
I took my mom to see a three-part series by Professor Bruno Leone, where he told stories, sang, and expertly played the grand piano.
The series highlighted the lives of George Gerswhin, Cole Porter, and Richard Rodgers.
Absolutely amazing, and I highly recommend signing up for any event given by Bruno Leone.

Huge vase of flowers that appears to be a paper-mache sculpture, inside the Atheneum. Huge meaning it was about ten feet tall.

A red leather (or vinyl...I'm not positive) couch at a local thrift store that I am absolutely coveting.
Looks brand new, and I'm on a red kick, but I can't afford it right now.

I've always thought of this as a lifeguard tower on Fiesta Island, but it may actually be for some kind of judging or for spectators. I'm not sure, I just know I walk by it often.

Reese, at Fiesta, pre-daisies.

My little three-legged kitty, Kai, is getting all grown up!
He's around 7 months old now.
He's actually quite smaller than my other cats, so I call him my "weenie".

A rose by any other name...

I know I introduced you to the kitten as "Trey", but I'm not totally sold on that name yet.
I never could figure out a name for my last cat, so now he's stuck with "That Baby", since that's how I always referred to him.
I'd better figure out what I want as the new kitten's name, or this kitty is going to be stuck with "Little Boy", or "Little Guy".
And that's just not right.

Hmmm...maybe a combination of Li-something. Liam?
That's cute.

Other contenders are inspired by that cute little circle on his chin.
It kind-of reminds me of a halo.

Halo.
That's nice.
I tend to like two-syllable names.
And he most certainly has had an angel watching over him (as well as being an angel himself).

You know what else that circle looks like?
An eclipse.
Well, it does.

And no, that's not a good name, but it sends me on a Twilight tangent, and I wonder if Edward might be a cute name.
Just sayin'.
Yeah yeah yeah....I admit I read all the books in that series.

But Trey is still nice too.
I don't know.
Sadly, on his vet papers they think his name is "Feral".
Sheesh.

I guess I could go "Ferrell" but "Ferry" just doesn't sound right.
Sigh...
Why is this so hard for me?

I watched an old episode (well, from the newer series in the 80's) of the Twilight Zone recently, and all of sudden all the words were different, and everyone was dialed in except this one guy.
Like all of sudden "dinosaur" was the word for "lunch".
He had to learn all over again.
An interesting concept.

Trey

For those of you who know me on Facebook, this is an update.
For the rest of you, this is an introduction.

There's a new member in my household.

My mom was leaving food out for a feral calico and her two three-month-old kittens.
One kitten was yellow, the other a tuxedo black and white.
While I was pet-sitting, my mom said the cute little black one disappeared.
She figured a coyote got him--it's a hard life for strays, with coyotes, other animals, traffic...
I had a weird feeling he was trapped somewhere, but I brushed off the thought as silly.
I should know by now, however, to listen to my intuition--it's usually right on target.

I went over to my mom's to sort through some boxes.
I have a lot of stuff stored out back (placed there when I first started renovating my bedroom, but kept there now because I knew the mama cat was hiding beneath the tarps. I figured it was keeping her safe).
I heard some clawing on the fence, and I just assumed it was the mama sharpening her claws.
It wasn't, but I didn't investigate.

Almost a full week after my mom noticed the black kitten was missing, I spent the night at her house, and couldn't sleep for all the mewing outside.
I got up three times to find out where the crying was coming from, but didn't see anything.
Was the yellow kitten caught in between some boxes? Did the mama have another kitten?
Finally, at almost 6 a.m., it was still dark outside, so I took a flashlight out to see if I could find the kitten.
I saw the yellow one outside my door playing, so I knew he was okay.
The light from my flashlight caught the reflection of eyes, and wow, it was the black kitten.
How was he possibly able to survive for a week without food or water?

There's a gate near my mom's pool made of old skinny pickets.
The kitten must have tried to climb over the top, but his back left leg slipped between two of the boards and he was caught, hanging there.
The boards are wide at the top, but get closer at the base, so as he struggled to get free, his foot got wedged in there.
He had a compound fracture in two places.
He had not been visible because of the fence line, and my mom couldn't hear him from inside the house.
Thank God I came home when I did!

I was beside myself, trying to figure out how to free him.
Remember he's feral, so even the sight of me sent him into hissing, spitting, and spinning.
God, it was so sad and scary.
I got online to try to find someone to help me.
Alone, I couldn't figure out how to get the boards apart.
The county animal control said I live in the city (uh, my mom pays county taxes),
and the city said there was nothing they could really do. Huh?
Thankfully, they did have the name of a volunteer rescue organization.
A lady came over, and together we were able to break the fence, free the kitten, and get the kitten into a carrier.

Another woman from the rescue organization suggested I take the kitten to a vet that is familiar with feral cats.
We walked in, and the vibe was so off for me that I got up and left.
I took the kitten to emergency, and they were wonderful.

They couldn't save his leg, but they did save his life.
The surprising part is he is totally mellow and sweet!

Right now he is isolated from my other cats so he can heal.
He gets two kinds of medicine for a week.
The surgeon said "cats are strong" and that he'll adapt to having three legs just fine.

Look how cute the circle is on his chin

The vet said he weighs 1.88 pounds, so he's tiny.
Judging by his appetite, I have a feeling he won't be small for long :)

The name Trey initially came about because "tre" in Italian means three (you know, three-legged kitty).
But Trey is also a cute boy name, and his sweetness so reminds me of my beloved Terry, and so many of the letters are the same that it just feels right.

Bella

I just finished dog sitting at a little beach cottage, for long-term friends.
The house and garden are comfortable and familiar, as are the three old dogs and the three cats.
But they have a new kid on the block too--she's almost four months old.
Isn't she sweet?

His name is "That Baby"

Terry: October 14, 1990-July 9, 2009

Death, you are not my friend.
In fact, I hate you.
I want you to take your greedy little hands and go away from here.
You take...you change things...you leave a hollow void behind.
You are not "a blessing", you are not okay because "he lived a good, long life".

Inside, I am throwing a tantrum. I am slamming my fists, I am screaming, "It's not fair!".
Another part of me is just overwhelmed by sadness and loss.
I am enveloped by the pain. My stomach is in knots, I feel nauseous.
My tears have etched ridges on the side of my eyes.

Yet another part of me reminds myself to be grateful for all the moments I did have, and for this special closeness I was granted.
This very very special angel that came into my life, and stayed three months short of 19 years.

And hopefully, eventually, this numbness will soften into a peace.
All I know is my love for Terry is so huge as to cover the earth.
If only I had special powers, if only I could perform miracles, I would have kept him here by my side forever.
I can only pray that Heaven exists, and that God lets animals in the gates.
Knowing I will see him again gives me hope.



Some people don't like animals, and don't have pets.
Others say they like animals, but treat their pets as backyard ornaments.
Some people love their pets, but on the same level that one loves a favorite piece of furniture--it's great, but if something happens to it, well, life goes on.
For me, it's an entirely different experience.
Being a pet sitter, obviously bringing joy to animals is my primary focus.
I love the pets I watch.
Nothing makes me happier than seeing a dog smile.

But my heart always beat the strongest for Terry.

A boyfriend gave me Terry in 1991, for Valentine's Day.
I had a fluffy gray male cat at the time, and had asked for a companion to match. Literally.
I asked for a long-haired, gray, female kitten.
It was pretty funny that what I received was just the opposite--a short-haired, black, male that was four months old.

But the truth was that he was the best cat on the planet. I have had cats my whole life, and I love cats, I know cats, but Terry was extraordinary.
Sweet sweet sweet.
Would climb on my shoulder and purr.
Would sleep under the covers with me and snuggle.
A little spirit companion.

For some of us, our pets are our friends, companions, rock, support...and family.
I called him my "super special angel kitty".
He was my "bear bear" for almost 19 years.
I am so so thankful for having had him in my life--and that is what I am trying to hold on to....the positives, the gratefulness.
Because to wish him to go on forever is thinking of my own selfishness.
But it is just so damn hard.
I verge one moment on falling apart, so the next I am in zombie mode to protect myself.
So many people don't understand. He was "only" a cat, they think.
But how sad for them that they haven't experienced a connection with an animal, because that connection is a truly magical thing.

Terry definitely lived all his nine lives--two or three times he just missed death's grasp after urinary tract problems, hyper thyroid, raspy breathing, and high blood pressure.
There were multiple trips to emergency over the years.
Trips to the vet on holidays.
Over a year ago a vet told me he didn't expect him to live more than a few months. I am so glad that vet was wrong.

When I would be gone for extended times house-sitting, he would deteriorate a bit. He always revived when I came home.
Imagine my guilt when I was caring for someone else's cat last week, in someone else's home, when my own was dying.
It's so hard to juggle life and bills and still give adequate attention to family, friends, and our pets.
I try so so hard, but always question if I've done enough.

I found a new vet who is more loving and understanding.
She said listen to him, and he'll tell you when it's time to go.
She said he hung on this long because he wanted to stay with me.
God that makes me cry every time.

Right now I am just holding on by a thread.
Prayer gives me a life vest.

previous posts about Terry here, here, here, and here.

Talking Dogs

Two talking cats

I Destroy Things...

Remember the little guy and his sister that were dumped at my mom's house?

Well, they are fat and happy now...and incredibly destructive!
They've shredded curtains, a garment bag, and the bottom of a mattress (so they can crawl up inside and sleep).
They climb into cupboards, atop high places, and knock over everything in their paths.
They are as cute as cute can be.
Brats, but cute.

We ended up naming them Oliver and Minnie (the name Violet didn't stick, but Min did).

This originally was a palm tree-shaped scratching post with carpet-covered coconuts and fronds, and a sisal-covered trunk.
Evidently it was really fun to scratch off the rope, then keep scratching until the cardboard base collapsed.
The funny part is now they love it even more.
Now it is the favorite sleep zone.
Whatever.

Another link

After the link to the leather pet bed I posted yesterday, a friend of mine sent me a link to How to make a cat bed from an old wool sweater.

Still computer problems, hopefully to be fixed soon.