Life Is Fragile

 Opening one blurry eye to check the time my equally blurry brain began sorting through things I have to do today. First I have to crawl out of this comfortable cocoon and get my diabetic dog out to pee, feed her breakfast and get that 7:15 am shot of insulin in her.

Then I have to feed and medicate the cats and other dog. Then I have to wash a load of pee pads because the aforementioned other dog is incontinent. Then I have to clean the cats’ water fountains and feeders.

 As all of these things fell into categories in my still sleepy head I opened the Facebook app on my phone. And the first post I saw was from a blogger I follow who fosters pregnant cats and nurtures their kittens until Mom and babies are ready for adoption. It is a site full of joy and laughter and cuteness overload.

 But not today.

 Without my glasses I wasn’t quite sure what I was reading but when this came into focus “I’m heartbroken to tell you that in the early morning hours, Natalie passed away… she left behind one tiny, perfect brown tabby boy” – I knew. Thousands of us follow this amazing foster Mama and now thousands of us are grieving. But I promise you none so deeply as she is this morning.

 Life is so fragile…

 So after a few tears I realized – I don’t “have to” take my diabetic dog outside, feed her breakfast and give her that morning insulin jab. I get to.

 I don’t “have to” feed and medicate my other pets. I get to.

 I don’t “have to” wash the pee pads, clean the water fountains and feeders. I get to.

 Each day none of that is guaranteed. One day the diabetic dog will no longer need her insulin. One day there won’t be a clowder of cats to care for. One day the pee pads that I curse every morning won’t be necessary.

 

It sounds so trite, but it is so true. 

This thing we call life? It really is fragile. 

And we really do need to handle it with care.  

The End of an Era

A-choo's passing a week ago was the end of an era...  All the animals my husband and I have adopted together in the first 20 years of our marriage are gone.  Ames, the cat, died 7 years ago at the age of 15.  Simba the dog passed last September at the age of 16. And now A-choo has left us, 21.5 years later...

She went out as she lived - independent and on her own terms. She died in the middle of the night while we were sleeping.

I can't say we were surprised to wake and find her gone, but of course we mourned her.  Living to the ripe old age of 21.5 she was a big part of our life together. We adopted her from the Denver Dumb Friends League in 1992 when she was 10 months old. 

Suffice it to say, she was a charmer from the beginning. Why "A-choo" you may ask. When we first met her in one of the little visitation rooms at the shelter she was all over us - sweet and loving and cuddly as could be. But she sneezed. A lot. It was kind of cute. So we dubbed her A-choo. And she came home to join her big "brother" Ames. 

As I said - she was independent. So once secure that she was in her forever home (who knew it would be 21.5 years forever) the desire to cuddle lessened and she took on her role as aloof A-choo. We loved her all the more for her distinct personality and catittude! When we hugged her and she squirmed to get away we told her she need 2 minutes of "forced affection." She always let us do it.

She liked popcorn and would give you those eyes when she wanted some. (Only the puffy part so she wouldn't choke, though.)

She took catittude to new levels. 

She was silly

and she liked a good party.

And a good box.

She was beautiful. Not in an ordinary cat kind of way. She was really beautiful.

I will remember her as playful and silly and funny and mischievous. 

But mostly I will remember her as thoughtful, wise and special.

She was so special...

Rest in peace, 'Choosey. You will be in our hearts forever.

Roll the Dice

So I don't know if its this relentless winter (which brings on cabin fever and I know so many of you can relate...) or I feel I'm missing the passion I usually have for my projects... Or is it the [I think] really sweet thing Facebook did today. In celebrating 10 years of Facebook they did a little video - music and everything - of your personal timeline with your first updates, most liked posts and photos thru your years on Facebook.  

Or if it is an interview I read with Maria Shriver where she quoted a commencement speech she gave awhile back (and I'm paraphrasing):

"Take time to recognize the power of pause -- the importance of stopping and evaluating where you are in life."

She went on to say that sometimes people will say to her, "Remember that?" and she will think "I don't. I was too busy."  

She commented how important it is to slow your life down and find out if you are actually living the life you are meant to live. It's your job to know who you are, to know your value, your mission and what makes you happy so you know what you're supposed to be doing here.  

All of this compounded one upon the other today and it was like a huge wake-up call. Or at least a sit-down-and-really-think-about-this call.

As I stated in a prior post, this isn't exactly a new thought for me. Five years in business, 40 years in Colorado, 21 years married and turning 60 - 2014 is a thought-provoking year.

I shared with my Mister last night that I'm going to take time to think, reflect, evaluate and look to the future. We both have aging parents who need our help. Granted my Mom is 750 miles away but if she needs me I'll be there in a heartbeat. His parents are local and there is more I could be doing for them.

Aging - gez, we have our own aging cat who at almost 21 years old sure could use some more of my love and attention. Oh, A-choo...

And although Kizzie is a very good little girl, I sometimes forget that she isn't a puppy - she will be 6 years old in April. She won't be here forever and I want to enjoy every minute I can with her.

She came into our lives a mere 4 months ago. I regret that I didn't know her sooner so I could have loved her longer. I have said the same about my husband; I didn't meet him until I was 35...

And yes, as I stare down 60 I am aging, too. I find myself really questioning ~ what is my mission?

When I watched my little Facebook Timeline video I was struck by how, with the exception of one, my top-ranking "liked" posts were work-related; as were almost all of my photographs. That was an eye-opener. A friend joked that this was my Jacob Marley moment. I laughed, but thought ~ whoa, he may have something there...

I'm married to a guy who works hard, works a lot and enjoys what he does. So I work hard, I work a lot and - for the most part - enjoy what I do. But I see how work has taken over my life. And even though I created this "monster" there really is more I want to do.

I just have to figure out what that is exactly and channel it. And get this pervasive thought that I must always be productive out of my fricking head.

I get one roll of the dice. 

We all get one roll of the dice. We owe it to ourselves to make it a good one. It's all a crap shoot ~ but I think we can chant our lucky chants, kiss the die and guide them down the table a little...

Adios 2013. You Were Quite the Ride...

Before we are too far into 2014 and I tell myself I don't have time for this because there are 10 other things I am "supposed" to be doing ~ I want to reflect for a moment on 2013. Most of it was as unlucky as one might expect with the number 13 involved...

I think it all started with Boda.

When my son moved to Austin in May it wasn't in the cards to take Boda Kitty with him so The Mister and I happily welcomed her into our family. Four days later after our Vet discovered cancer and a large mass on her liver, we said an extremely tearful goodbye to beautiful Boda.

My son leaving and moving out of state was emotional for me as well. After college he had opted to live near home and for the first time in my 22 year relationship with my husband, we had no children in town. We were truly empty-nesters. Not that any of that is bad; it was just an adjustment. 

June, July and August brought biopsies and ultrasounds and diagnostic tests to see if, indeed, cancer was roaming around my body. I'm the lucky one; it wasn't. But the whole summer was fraught with stress, anxiety and fear.

September rolled around and we knew that our time with our beloved 16 year old dog, Simba, was coming to an end. Our girl just wasn't there anymore. Our Vet suspected a brain tumour as messages from her brain just weren't getting thru. She couldn't remember how to go up steps and eventually she couldn't remember how to eat. On September 3 we made one of the most devastating decisions we have ever had to make and said a final goodbye to our sweet girl. The grief was overwhelming and consumed us for days. We didn't know how - or why - the world kept on spinning...

For some reason ~ who knows why except maybe The Universe thought we deserved a break ~ things took a turn for the better near the end of September. We took a trip ~ one that had been planned for months but the timing was perfect ~ we needed new scenery and a reason to celebrate. And celebrate we did! We, and 100 of her closest's friends, celebrated the life of someone so dear, so loved ~ my Mom, happy and healthy, as she turned 95.

The clouds started clearing and the sun broke thru after that. Life began to look a little happier. That is probably what led us to almost instinctively and on auto-pilot stop by the local shelter one evening and walk thru the dog kennels. We didn't speak of it but we both knew -- we were not leaving without a dog. And indeed, it was Kismet.

And in that moment, life changed. Everything changed. Joy came into our lives as she jumped deep into our hearts, settled in and opened up shop.

A month later the puppets I had shed blood, sweat and tears (literally!) over from January thru March came to life in the form of an Apple iPad App called Puppet Play. And there was my name for all to see. Wow.

Later that month my Austin son made a visit and our time together was like putting on old slippers and wrapping a warm blanket around us.

The Mister and I closed out the year alone - together - doing our favorite things ~ watching movies, making delicious food ~ relaxing and taking time off from our crazy, hectic work lives.

And then there was the surprise of the year ~ losing 28 lbs (and counting). All due to giving up dairy, chocolate, eggs, most gluten and most soy. Who knew? 

So a year that ~ for the most part ~ sucked, it turned out alright. My faith in love and luck and laughter has been restored. Gratitude for good friends and a loving family in place. Even though my sons, now adults, recognize I am flawed, they like me anyway. The Mister is still my best friend and confidant. My love for my little dog is ridiculous. Now two days into 2014 I am still pondering where I want to go in this brave new year, who I want to be. 

So that post is on hold for the time being.  Adios 2013. It was a ride.

Re-entry.

Yesterday I took my first walk in the park since Simba has passed. In the past few months she wasn't up to the mile long walks ~ wasn't really up to walking much past the mailbox a couple of blocks away. So I although I missed her on those walks, I always knew she was waiting at home for me. 

So walking yesterday - knowing that she wasn't waiting at home for me - weighed heavily on me.  I had my Canon and shot the sun as it was coming up

and caught the Canada geese and other migrating birds as they flew overhead

I gave creativity and a rubber duckie photo shoot a shot

but ultimately I just didn't have it in me. I wasn't feeling it.

I was missing my buddy.

It will be awhile before we are ready to bring another dog into our family. Simba is still here at every turn. But a friend made a really good suggestion ~ volunteer at a local shelter/rescue for awhile. It will give me the connection I need with dogs and brighten the days of a few lonely pups. Of course, my problem right now is time; but it is something I intend to do. I never thought I could ~ knowing that the dog I walked yesterday may not be there tomorrow; but another wonderful friend once told me, "I know it would be hard, but think of the joy you gave that dog for even one day."

Today started out as my favorite kind of day

cloudy and cool.

Time for tea (especially the Chinese kind that is supposed to lower blood pressure)

And the day stayed cloudy and cool. I don't like summer heat and I love Autumn and I love days like this. As much as I'm still mourning, it was time to get back to work. So I filled Etsy orders

and worked on shop orders.

In between I did a few loads of laundry. And in doing so, came across the shirt The Mister was wearing the day we said goodbye to Simba. It was covered in her fur. I held it close, I cried, I inhaled her scent, I cried some more ~

and then I let it go.  

I thought I heard her raspy breathing this afternoon ~ the breathing I used to hear from the bed behind my desk.

A-choo the Cat has been acting weird all day. It's almost like she sees Simba and Simba is taunting her like she loved to do.

We are receiving cards full of sympathy and love from friends - actual snail mail cards. Family members are donating to shelters in Simba's name. It's overwhelming. And lovely. And makes me cry.

Who knew one little 35 lb. ball of fur could touch so many lives? She was one of a kind, our girl. And her legacy will live on.  I love you, Boo.

They Never Really Leave You

I've always said that about our pets when they pass on ~ they never really leave you. I didn't mean it literally. Until now.

Every bit of what I'm about to tell you is true. And, if, after reading it, you think I've really gone 'round the bend, you can call me crazy.  (You crazy, Cindi!)  But I believe it. And we have found a surprising comfort and solace in it.

About a month ago we interviewed a woman to help us around the house a couple of times a month. I didn't know her and The Mister had only met her once when she was a guest at his BNI (Business Networking International) meeting one morning. She came highly recommended by a couple of people in the group so we set up an interview.

About five minutes into our interview with her Simba peeked out from behind my chair, looking right at the woman (we'll just call her S) and peed on the carpet.  The Mister and I were used to her having an accident now and then (at 16 it happens) but this seemed deliberate ~ and surprising that she would just squat and pee in front of us; she usually snuck off to another room.

Yesterday as we pieced things together we think we know why.  

S only saw Simba one time after that initial meeting. At this point in her life Simba had grown silent, not barking, not yodeling, not making a sound.  But when S leaned down to speak to her, she growled.

Fast forward to yesterday... S was here to clean (only her second time here) and she knew that we had said goodbye to our girl just 2 days prior. As we do, we would chat now and then and she remarked that it is so interesting being in people's homes and picking up their energy. (She had told me earlier that she was empathic - and yes, I had to Google it, too.  Here's a quick explanation. Think John Edward. No, not John Edwards. John Edward the medium - the guy on TV who knows your dead Uncle.) I asked what she felt in our house.

"Simba. She's here." 

I thought ~ well, ok. Of course we feel her presence and see her at every turn. But not literally.

S says, "She's been following me for about an hour. Is there something about snacks? Her treats? She's looking for them."

Ok - this is where I got chills. I said, "I just put them away this morning. They were on the counter but I put them in the pantry."

"Well, she isn't happy about that."

So I put them back on the counter. I'm not kidding.

I said, "We haven't been able to put her beds away either."

S- "Don't. She won't like that."

Before S left we were chatting a bit more and she said, "I see an older man ~ someone in Charlie's family who has passed. A real dog lover..."

I racked my brain and couldn't really come up with anyone. 

"He's tall and he's wearing jeans and a - not flannel - more of a denim shirt. And he's waiting for Simba."

The dim light in my brain began to brighten ~ "Maybe it's his Grandpa Russell. He was a farmer. And I think he had a fondness for his dogs."

Now S got chills. She asked if Simba had been kind of gazing off in the distance a few days before she passed. Yes, she had. "She was looking at Grandpa Russell. He was there for her."

Enter The Mister ~ and S told him everything. He's convinced she was describing his Grandpa Russell, who as it turns out really did love dogs. And he quite often wore jeans and denim shirts.

Saying our goodbyes at the door, S says "I'm leaving now, Simba!" And turning to us said, "She's been trying to shush me out the door for an hour."

We later thought ~ well, Simba always did hate the vacuum and that's what S had been doing for the last hour.

So as we reflect on all this we wonder if maybe Grandpa Russell came in the house when S did. If he sat by her in that interview and Simba saw him, she was either scared or defiant so she peed. And if the next time S was here and leaned down to speak to Simba, Grandpa Russell was right next to her so Simba growled.

The Mister shared with me that the other night when I was yakking away about something he swore he heard the light jingle, jangle, jingle of Simba's tags on her collar - as if she were coming down the stairs. But he thought he was just imagining it.

Was he?

58 years, 8 months and 29 days ~ or there abouts

I'll be turning 59 in a couple of months and when the early morning hours nudged me awake a bit ago, I laid in bed and thought about that for awhile. 

When I started this blog and decided to call it "Walking on the Edge of the Knife" it was because I had recently visited an inspirational Georgia O'Keefe exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. Little did I know how prophetic that phrase would turn out to be...

My 58th year has been unlike any other. There have been rewarding, challenging, surprising, exhausting, happy and fun times ~ both professionally and personally.  Some of it I can talk about; some I can't.  Mixed in have been days of sadness, days of fear, days of confusion. Some of it I can talk about; some I can't.  

Probably the same could be said of any life.  Everyone's life is a mixture of good and... not so good.  The thing I am seeing, though, looking down the road into my 6th decade is ~ everything has an expiration date.  Everything. 

My youthful sense of immortality no longer exists and I am left with these questions: How do I make the most of what I have left?  How do I come to terms with what The Universe has brought me? How do I make the world a better place for others and at the same time, make my days personally fulfilling?

My daily calendar pops up on my screen and along with my usual reminders to pay this bill, make this appointment is a reminder that our Anniversary is in 6 days. 

20 years... don't they go by in a blink...

And there's the reminder to call my doctor to follow up on some things. Things that weren't even on my radar a year ago are now daily thoughts.

And the reminder that every day is Christmas in the studio now - get crackin'. I don't have as many 3 am anxiety attacks over my work as I used to. I've settled into a comfortable routine ~ a nice repertoire with my shop owners and customers. I've become more organized and more efficient so my stress level isn't where it used to be when it comes to my Whee Ones (and holiday time in particular). But still ~ Christmas is in, like, three days. At least in my head.   

Call Mom - as I usually do on Thursdays.

I don't see my Mom often ~ she's in Iowa and I'm in Colorado. I will see her in a couple of weeks to celebrate with her as she turns 95. And I am left wondering ~ will it be her last birthday? Or will she be like her friend, Mildred, who at 102 just recently gave up living independently and moved into an assisted living facility.

One thing I don't need to see on my calendar, because it is in my mind constantly is ~ check on Simba.  

At age 16 and a couple of weeks we have seen a steady decline in our girl's health in the past few days and we know her time with us is growing short. And it is breaking our hearts. Of course it is a fact that most humans outlive their pets. But it doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Everything ~ everyone ~ has an expiration date.

And no amount of love can change that.