I Carry Your Heart in My Heart

How lucky I am to have had something

that makes saying goodbye so hard. 

*Winnie the Pooh*

We said goodbye to our girl on Valentine's Day - and somehow that seemed fitting. Because Kizzie was all heart. Gentle, sweet, loving - that was our girl. She was the epitome of love. 💝

Her name was Kismet because we felt meeting her was meant to be. It was... kismet. That was a rather formal name for such a little dog, so she quickly became Kizzie. 

It didn't take long for her to learn that in her new home she would have a camera in her face about 50 times a day. She was known for her Mohawk hair style and her expressive ears. She became quite astute at turning away (or running away) when she saw the lens coming at her. So I learned to snap quickly.

 Kizzie wasn't a huge fan of cold and snow and in the later years when I opened the door to snow she would turn right around and go back in the house. However, in warmer weather she loved a nice stroll in the park. 

She tolerated dress-up for picture day now and then, especially at Halloween and Christmas time.

Six months with Kizzie and we decided she was such an easy going dog - this was so easy! - that she needed a brother. His name is Koko and he was about the same age as Kizzie - 6 years old. He has a lot of energy...

And he could be a little annoying sometimes.

But all in all, he was a pretty good pal.

They tolerated Christmas photos - complete with costumes.

On March 17, 2017 (St. Patrick's Day - apparently Kizzie had a thing for bad news on holidays) she was diagnosed with an enlarged heart and we were rushed off to Animal Emergency. When the final diagnosis came in we learned she has tricuspid valve dysplasia and severe pulmonary hypertension. In layman's terms - a bad heart and very bad lungs. For the next two years she would undergo countless echocardiograms, ultra sounds, x-rays and twice sported a Holter Monitor. That little vest had electrodes hooked to her chest and for 24 hours everything related to her heart was recorded. It was uncomfortable but she wore it like the trooper that she was.

In fact, she was a trooper thru all of the procedures and endured taking up to 9 medications, three times a day. 

In November of 2019 a mass was discovered on her spleen. It would be tricky to do any further procedures. If her spleen were aspirated to learn what was going on with that mass and she started to bleed out, immediate surgery would be required. We felt she could not survive surgery. So being fully informed and with support from her medical team, we chose, other than her daily medications, to not proceed with any further treatment. She had been thru enough.

From there we felt like she was in hospice mode. We saw a decline in her weight, appetite and energy level. I baked chicken for her and wrapped her meds in Velveeta cheese (after trying many, many methods of medication delivery). Her walks became fewer, her little furry face was white with age and she spent a lot of time sleeping. We carried her to bed and she slept with us every night. 

I didn't know when I snapped this photo of Kizzie that 24 hours later she would be gone. I think she knew, though. That day, February 13, she followed me everywhere - up and down the stairs, from one room to another. And when I sat still her eyes were always on me. I recall even asking her, "Kizzie, what are you trying to tell me?"

Fast forward to the next morning - the morning I found her stuck in a corner not knowing how to get out - that I started suspecting this could be a bad day. She wasn't interested in breakfast or taking her meds. This had happened before and usually if I waited for her to act in her own time she would eventually eat. 

As the day progressed, however, I realized this wasn't going to be one of those times. She was unsteady on her feet, she kept getting stuck in corners. My heart sank now knowing what she had been telling me. She wanted to let go. She needed me to tell her it was ok to go. 

I swooped her up and lay on the couch with her for a better part of the afternoon, her little limp head resting on my shoulder. We both dozed off. By the time Charlie came home and spent an hour with her, we both agreed - she's not going to make it thru the night.

Cradled in my arms, wrapped in the "goodbye blanket," surrounded by so many who loved her, Kizzie quietly and gently drew her last breath. 

How blessed we were to have known her. What an honor to have been chosen to be her caretakers. She will always be a part of us. 

Her name was Kismet. And she was ours. 

I carry your heart with me.

I carry your heart in my heart.

*ee cummings*

The Best Things in Life Are In Shelters and Rescue Organizations

Today I entered my beloved K Team in the 2019 Photo Calendar Contest with the Dumb Friends League. 

I did it for a few reasons. One - Kizzie, the Matriarch of the K Team, was adopted there 4.5 years ago. 

Two - Koko (Koko Loco, Koko Bean, Kokoro - Spirit in Japanese) was adopted there 4.5 years ago.

Three - Kukki (Cookie in Japanese) was adopted there 5 weeks ago.

Kazzy Boy came from another shelter, but he was a shelter kitty, too. 

And years ago our A-choo was adopted from there - about 1993.

I almost entered Kia, 

but then thought - I may never stop. I've had a lot of dogs and cats in my life...

The annual Photo Calendar Contest helps raise a lot of money for the shelter - and it's fun!

The K Team donates food and toys and blankets to the Dumb Friends League and have for years. We donate money when we can. They do good work. Our Vet has volunteered there for years. She does good work.

There are A LOT of shelters and rescues and fosters and volunteers and transporters in the world who do amazing work. I am in awe of them and I am humbled by them.  

It makes me enormously happy to peruse the entries into the Photo Calendar Contest. It is much safer for me than perusing the "Adopt" page. When I am looking at the entries into the photo contest I can smile endlessly knowing that these adorable animals have loving, happy homes. 

And I want to vote for every single one.  Maybe they should expand beyond a calendar and make a book...

Welcome Home, Kukki

This photo is what made it happen.

On June 27, 2018 a notation popped up on my calendar "Take donations to Dumb Friends League." Periodically I go thru the toy boxes belonging to my cats and dogs, any food or treats that are perfectly fine but they've turned up their finicky noses at and donate to shelters and rescues.  

Seven weeks prior we had said farewell as our beloved Kia crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge. We missed her terribly (and always will). She is tucked in our hearts for safe keeping.

But knowing that our three year old, Kazz ~ just a big kitten himself ~ needed a playmate, we were slowly warming up to the idea of adopting another cat. 

No one could ever replace Kia but there are so, so many kitties in the world who need and deserve a loving home... well, we started dropping hints to each other.

Since I was planning to drop off donations at the shelter anyway, something made me click onto "Adoptable Cats" on the Dumb Friends League website. What the heck ~ I'll just look. Right. This is the photo that made me call the shelter. This is the photo I emailed to my Mister saying, "What do you think?" I mean... his name is CHARLIE for cryin' out loud. And so is my Mister's. This is the photo that had us hopping in the car - me with no makeup and my ratty "work at home clothes" and without a lot of discussion or thought we were off to meet "Charlie."

The shelter described Charlie as:

My name is CHARLIE!  

I am a neutered male, red tabby Domestic Longhair.
The shelter thinks I am about 1 year and 2 months old.
I have been at the shelter since Jun 06, 2018.

I am described as A LOVING "GOOF BALL"
Favorite Things: Playtime is the best time of the day; will solicit attention to receive more pets.
Special Features: Loving/sweet purr machine; good with litterbox protocol.
Dream Home: A loving family with no small children that will turn this cat into a fine feline citizen.

His "behind the scene" notes indicated he was aggressive and had bitten someone.  We knew he had been returned twice and the notes said he shouldn't be around small children. Well, when I see "aggressive" and "small children" I see red flags and my first thought is - what did the small children do to him?

We visited with Charlie for about 10 minutes. He was adorable. A big chunk of a guy who was playful, purring, happy and easy going. There was zero indication of aggression. Sure if a cat gets overstimulated playing he may give a little love nip; but then you stop playing. It made me sad to think that such a great cat would have his chances of adoption diminished because previous owners were inexperienced in how to handle a kitten. 

Enter us.

One thing about my Mister and me? If we meet a dog or a cat at a shelter there is a 99% chance they're going home with us ~ no matter what their issues may be. In Charlie's case, that meant we knew we needed to work with him and help him lose weight. We didn't care. All 20 lbs of him was coming home with us. And we knew he wasn't aggressive. He was a kitten.

I've had A LOT of cats in my 63 years and this guy? Not one of them has adapted so quickly, so seamlessly, so happily to a family of two humans, two dogs and another cat. Today marks one month with us and it's like he's been with us forever. We did change his name because having two Charlies in the family seemed a bit confusing. And since we have Kizzie, Koko and Kazz, we searched for a K name. We settled on Kukki - which is Cookie in Japanese. And it suits our sweet boy - Kukki.

Sometimes it is just meant to be. Sometimes I get it right. 

Welcome home, Kukki.

Twenty Days Without You

It has been 20 days since we said a tearful goodbye to our sweet, sweet Kia. The pain comes in waves and some days it is all I can do to keep my head above water.

I wrote this one night as I watched Kia in her little corner of the kitchen that had become her world. I had returned from a five day trip the day before and was saddened by seeing her decline. 

April 19, 2018  (She lived 19 more days.)

I watch you tonight - as I have all day. Dozing. Standing. And when you move you lose your balance. 

I don’t think you know where you are. I don’t think you know what to do.  I think you react - out of instinct.  But you don’t know why.

You are still beautiful. You are still loving. 

You want to drink water but don’t seem to know how. 

You are slipping away from me and it hurts.  My beautiful girl. I know that saving you at 12 years old was a blessing for you - but most of all a blessing for me. I know the time is drawing nigh. I’m just having a hard time pushing the button.

But I don’t think you are happy here now. I think you are confused.  I think you are hurting in some way.

Think of the five things that make your cat, your cat.  When three of those things are gone, it’s time.

1.  Kia is affectionate - she likes to be on my lap or next to my pillow at night.  She likes to be in the studio with me.

2. She’s independent when it comes to the other animals.  She likes her space and doesn’t interact with them much.

3. She’s beautiful and takes care of her beauty.

4. She eats well and uses her litter box

5. She really, really loves me.

Right now she’s at 0 of 5.  

In retrospect – I think she really loved me to the very end. So 1 out of 5. She left this world purring and surrounded by so much love.

The Beatles said, "Love is all you need." If love was all Kia needed to survive she would still be snuggling in my arms, happy and thriving.

 Sadly it is not. Health is what you need.

When Grace Has Touched Your Life

Kia came into our lives quite by accident. One day about three years ago my friend, Yukari, asked if I would be interested in joining her as a volunteer at a local city shelter.  She further enticed me by saying the volunteer position would be in the Cat Enrichment Program; basically showing up and playing with cats.

It was something I had been thinking about for a long time ~ volunteering at an animal shelter. I was nervous but knowing I would be doing it with a friend made it easier. So we agreed we would show up on Friday mornings and play with cats and kittens for a couple of hours. It was a wonderful experience and I learned a lot.

I have always loved cats and have always had a cat or two (at one time I had four) in my adult life. When my last cat, A-choo, passed away at the age of 21.5 rather than adopting a cat, we adopted another dog.  Life with two dogs, both adopted as seniors, was very busy and very full.

Or so I thought. I joked that I fell in love with a cat or two every Friday morning. One particular morning a very shy but oh so beautiful white long haired cat with caramel markings crawled up on my lap, purred and fell asleep. I started to cry. There was something very special about this one. She was an owner surrender and 12 years old (who knows for sure). I was desperately afraid she wouldn’t be adopted. I couldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

Yukari picked up on my emotions and gently suggested maybe I could foster her. Although I was a little worried about how the dogs may accept her I called my husband, Charlie – crying – asking if he would be ok with us fostering this beautiful soul who was 12 years old. His response? Do the paperwork, I’ll pick up cat food, a litterbox, litter – is there anything else she’ll need?

I asked the Shelter Director if I could foster, got permission, had Animal Protection Officers visit our home, filled out the papers, we were approved and within three hours we were off to the Shelter to bring her home!

We decided a slow introduction to our two dogs was best so “Puddy Tat” (as she was dubbed – and we knew that had to quickly change) took up residence in our guest room.  We didn’t want her to feel lonely so I spent that first night with her; something that, as it turns out, we would take turns doing for the entire 2 month introduction period.

Since our dogs were Kizzie and Koko we decided to stick with the K theme and named our sweet foster, Kia. Within 18 hours of Kia’s fosterhood with us, Charlie turned to me and said, “Should we just keep her?” And just like that *snap* two Foster Fails were created.

Kia was a shy girl so it was truly a sloooooooow introduction to the rest of the home and the dogs. They were curious, but for the most part, just left her alone. Before long she was venturing into the kitchen on her own, climbing on the bed to cuddle next to my pillow at night. She was one of the family.

We quickly learned that Kia’s favorite thing to do was cuddle. If you were sitting down, that lap was hers. For as long as she wanted it. As my steadfast studio assistant she helped me sew. She helped me edit photos and do online shopping.

She helped Charlie with his IT work, both in his office and in his satellite office (his recliner).

Every single night she curled up next to my pillow and slept there. And every single morning, round about 4 am, one soft paw would tap my cheek and not stop until I pet her endlessly.  

 She loved the sunny bedroom and would spend hours napping there.

Sometime into her second year with us I started noticing little things that concerned me. During her annual exam it was discovered she had a slight heart murmur and a few weeks later that she had a hyper thyroid. Medication was prescribed and we all went about our merry way. Life was good and she was fine.

A few months later, however, kidney disease reared its ugly head. I learned that treating that in addition to treating the hyper thyroid was walking a tightrope. Treating the thyroid can disguise what’s going on with the kidneys; yet both had to be treated. So, ok, we will treat them and keep a close eye on her.

When the kidneys started to fail, it seemed like things in general started failing and fast. Charlie and I were trained to give her subcutaneous fluids under the skin to keep her hydrated and keep the kidneys working. But within a few weeks she wasn’t retaining the fluids. She was anemic and had ulcers on her eyes.

Her world became very small – a corner of the kitchen with her food, her litterbox and a soft rug to sleep on. And it’s funny how people always say, “You will know when it is time…” And even though we have been thru this before, I always struggle with  -- when is it time?? But, amazingly, we did know. We didn't want to, but we did. She wasn’t Kia anymore. We carried her around the house to give her human touch and she would purr. But she resisted being held very long. She looked confused all the time. She slowly started eating less and less and sleeping more and more. She lost a lot of weight. She had trouble walking.

 The last photo...

And so we sadly agreed that it was time. Our experience with our Vet was calm, loving and serene. I had wrapped Kia in one of her soft blankets and held her in my arms. She purred gently as we kissed her, told her we loved her and then she drew her last breath. The tears flowed but she left surrounded by love.

We know it was the right thing to do. That doesn’t ease the pain of losing this most loving and gentle soul. We lit candles. We saw goldfinches appear at the feeder for the first time. Was it Kia sending a message that she was free of pain and in a good place? I’d like to think so. We watched a beautiful sunset over the mountains. We raised a glass and toasted our beautiful, beautiful girl.  She was with us just shy of three years; oh how I wish I had more time with her. There are empty rooms in our hearts where we will carry her with us forever.

I read a quote that expressed it perfectly:

"Grief is the last act of love we can give to those we love.

Where there is deep grief there was great love."

Our grief is deep. Our love is deep. And it is the price we pay for loving animals.

Koko kissed my tears away this morning. A reminder that life goes on, I guess. How blessed we were to have Kia, if only for a short time. Wherever you are, Kia, know that you are loved. We are better people for having been graced by your gentle soul.

I cried when you came into my life, Kia. And I cried when you left.  

Run free into the sunset, my beautiful girl.