Monte, We Barely Knew Ye

Yesterday I returned to my volunteer work at the shelter and fell in love. I mean, I usually fall in strong like with at least one cat each time, but I fell in love with 12 year old Monte.

He was so sweet and loving. He liked to be pet and even played a little. But mostly he just liked human contact. He was one of those cats who would sit next to you and gently raise his paw to pat your arm "Pet me, please."

After saying farewell, the memory of him stayed with me all day. So much so that I began seriously thinking about adopting him. We had such success with our 12 year old Kia (also an Aurora Animal Shelter alumnus) and a slow introduction to our dogs, I knew we could do it again. 

I began campaigning for Monte to my husband. It took a little convincing but after showing him a video of Monte and several photos he consented. I was over the moon with happiness.

This morning we were about to leave for the shelter when I thought I would call first to be sure Monte was indeed available for adoption; his paperwork didn't really indicate that he was.

It was a good thing I called first so my tears could be shed in private and not in the lobby of the shelter. I learned that Monte was suffering with severe diabetes so advanced he had to be euthanized. 

I am heartbroken because I already felt he was mine. I understand he was a very sick kitty and nothing more could be done for him. He was in pain although he didn't show it. Losing him was the most heart-wrenching experience I have had as a volunteer. I went into this volunteer work knowing that some days would be difficult but this is the first time I have felt it so personally. This type of work is not for the faint of heart...

I am happy that my friend and I could give him some happy last moments and show him love. But the tears are still here.

I thank you, Monte, for showing me that I have room in my heart for another cat. I didn't think I was up to another slow introduction to my dogs and Kia but you showed me I could do it. I am ready to do it. And although you never lived in our house you will live in my heart for all time. You were mine for an hour...

I will never forget your gentle manner and your little paw tapping my arm, "Love me - if only for the moment."

Lessons in Love

And just like that life got oh so much better.

Kizzie makes me go outside. And suddenly I remember how beautiful nature is.

Returning home from a dentist appointment yesterday I was reminded how wonderful it is to walk in the door and see a little furball shaking with so much excitement she can barely contain herself.  The only thing cuter was watching her later in the day... She already knows the sound of the garage door and that means something good is going to happen. When she heard that around 5:00 yesterday I watched her leap from her studio bed and sit at the top of the stairs in anticipation. Is it Dad? Is Dad home?

And she wasn't disappointed! The door opened and she heard, "Kizzie!  Kizzie where are you?"  She tore down the stairs and jumped up and down - "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Dad's home!"

And, of course, that meant another walk was in order - even though it was a little confusing with both Mom and Dad.

Before we knew it we had covered several blocks!

After that it was time for Kizzie's first bath.

And despite her look of terror, she rather enjoyed it and didn't squeak a peep!

I towel-dried her and put her down and immediately - as is her wont - 

she jumped right smack dab into a pile of pillows.

She started to shiver so we lit the fire so she could warm up. The caveat being - since she is often kind of glued to my hip, I had to sit on the floor next to her so she would stay on her bed.  

And her reward for being such a good girl?  Brand spankin' new collar and her very own pink name tag - complete with Swarovski crystals. Only the best for our girl.

That being said, however ~ 

whoever said diamonds are a girl's best friend, 

never owned a dog.

To Love a Dog...

When Simba died a couple of months ago the grief was overwhelming. I moved thru life aimlessly for days. When The Mister and I could finally start talking about it and slowly moving beyond our sorrow we talked about maybe someday adopting another dog. Someday. That was a step for me because I had always said ~ when Simba is gone, I don't want another dog.

One friend told me ~ I know you are grieving but I hope you don't wait too long to adopt another dog. There are so many dogs out there who need love and you two have so much love to give.

Another friend recommended just walking thru the kennel. If there is some soul there you are supposed to have, Simba will guide you.

Another friend said ~ there is no timeline on when to adopt another dog. Trust your feelings.

As time progressed we talked about waiting a year ~ let's do some travel while we're not tied down, etc. Big talk. Because soon it was ~ well, we do have a couple of reliable petsitters when we travel... maybe in the spring, after the snow is past.

So no one was more surprised than me when a couple of weeks ago I found myself yearning for canine companionship. I never saw this coming. I realized, though, that at this stage in my life I'm working from home ~ I'm here almost every single day. And I was used to having a buddy in the studio with me. She was comfort and good for a laugh now and then. She reminded me to take a break, go for a little walk and get outside to clear my head.

Soon the talk turned to ~ well I have a birthday coming up (November 8). The Mister asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I said, "A dog."

"What kind of dog?"

"The one in the shelter who needs the most love."

Of course we didn't wait for my birthday. Yesterday late afternoon we were out and about and he says, "Would you like to stop by The Dumb Friends League?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"I guess so."

When we pull up in front of the building we notice a tall friendly staff member walking a cute little dog. Neither one of us said anything but commented to each other later that we both noticed the dog.

Once inside we checked in at the front desk and the same dog is on a leash behind the guy (his name was Ben) helping us. Again - we both told each other later that we had the same thought - we kind of wanted to see that dog. We chatted with Ben, telling him about our beloved Simba - a basenji/blue heeler who had recently passed.

Off we go to walk thru the kennels with our little check sheet.  We walk thru two or three times and began making notes. We could list 4 dogs we would like to visit with. They were all beginning to look the same except for one ~ Sophia. So we decided, let's start with her. And, honestly, she was the only one we were truly interested in.

As we are walking up to the desk Ben stopped us and said, "I have the perfect dog for you two. Come here and just take a look at her on the computer ~ it's not a great picture, but she's a rat terrier mix and just the sweetest thing. So mellow, so loving. She was almost adopted yesterday but the couple needed a super hypo-allergenic dog and she just wasn't quite right."

We looked at the picture of this sweet dog he was going on about and that's when the tears started forming. 

It was Sophia. And Sophia was the one we had seen outside when we pulled in. And Sophia was the dog behind the check-in desk.

We looked at Ben and said, "You're not going to believe this. She is the only one we wanted to see."

Ben was so happy. We were so stunned. So as we waited in the little visitation room - sitting on the floor waiting for Sophia - there were more tears. It just seemed like we were being lead by the hand to adopt this dog. Oh, Simba...

Of course our meeting went well. Of course it did! And I knew after the first time she smothered The Mister in puppy kisses it was all over.

How could anyone resist that face?

We had a serious heart-to-heart about her living with us.

We learned that Sophia's one and only owner had to give her up because he was forced to move to a smaller apartment that didn't take dogs. She is so well-behaved it's obvious she was loved. She is 5.5 years old but we don't care. She's perfect.

She visits the Vet at the shelter one last time; we're given some short-term medication to take home for a tooth she had removed the day before, signed the adoption papers and bingo, bango, she's ours. There we are ~ in our car driving our new pup home.

I just kept saying, "It's Kismet - how we found her and how she found us. It was all meant to be."

We went back and forth on ideas for names. Sophia is a lovely name but it is rather sophisticated for such a little furry bundle of joy.  We finally decided ~ it's Kismet. And we will call her Kizzie for short.

We will never forget her first night home. She hopped from the floor, to the ottoman, to my lap and jumped square into a pile of pillows on the couch. It was the cutest damn thing I've ever seen.

This morning I felt a joy I haven't felt in a long time. I took little Kizzie outside for a short walk. Back inside I fed her; she inhaled the food. Her little tail was going so fast I'm surprised she didn't fall over. I stayed in the kitchen to tidy up, turned around and saw this.

And I suddenly realized ~ every morning from now on my day will start like this. With this little soul looking to me for her every need ~ and the unconditional love I will receive in return? Well, you can't put a price on that.

When the sun rose I took her for a little longer walk.

Back home I gathered my things and headed up to my studio. I looked at her and said, "Come on Kizzie! Time to go to work." She flew up the stairs and took her place. 

Right where she should be.

Tonight we will give her her first bath and fluff up that adorable coat. She'll don her new collar and her new tag and it will all be absolutely official.

She is Kizzie. And she is ours.

Boda's Gift

Some things in life are so heart-wrenching it takes time to realize what has happened. There are, of course, the five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  Some days I think I'm nearing acceptance; but then I find myself slipping back into denial and then all dressed in black here comes Mr. Depression again.

Because what happened two weeks ago just seems still so surreal that I'm stuck on... surreal.

My son was in the process of relocating and was not able to take his beloved cat. Long story short it was decided that 9 year old Boda cat would probably be better off staying in Denver with me, the Mister and our Senior Citizens

So Boda came to live with us

She was a shy kitty so we let her have her own space and observe the other four-legged furry people from a distance

Just as a matter of course we set up an appointment with our Veterinarian for a check-up for Boda later in the week.  After a couple of days we were concerned that she wasn't eating, so we moved the appointment up.

I won't go into great detail because dredging up all the facts is painful. Hell, looking at photos of her is painful.  Writing this (thru tears) is painful. Even thinking about all this is painful. Suffice it to say after many tests and examinations by two Vets, we learned the sweet girl had cancer and it was advanced.  We made the tough decision to say goodbye to her.

If anything can make that awful time less painful, our Vet did all she could.  She gave us as much time as we wanted with Boda ~ before, during and after.  We held her throughout and loved her beyond the end. The room was quiet and peaceful and reverent.  Oh and there were tears - lots of them. I remember at one point looking up thru my tears and seeing tears in the eyes of Dr. E.  That touched me so... 

But the pain didn't end there.Telling our son what had transpired was excruciating.

In the midst of all the despair, I had an epiphany, though. As I held that sweet girl and said goodbye, as I stroked her shiny black fur (that was another thing - she looked fine from the outside ~ made it all the harder); as I was saying goodbye I felt almost as though something from her came into me. A light bulb went off and I just knew. But I didn't say anything at the time; this was Boda's time.

Later that evening as we were driving thru the park on the way home from a business dinner (one that we had wanted to cancel but felt we couldn't) we were, of course, talking of Boda.  Out of the blue the Mister says, "I think we should adopt a cat. Not a kitten, an older cat like Boda."  

I almost cried. I probably did a little.  And I said, "I can't believe you just said that. Because I had that exact thought as I was holding Boda this morning and saying goodbye."

Things happen for a reason. We truly believe that Boda came into our lives for a reason. She opened our hearts and our minds to the possibility of welcoming another soul into our family. Our time with her was far too short. We had been so excited about having her with us. She was going to help us thru the transition ~ when 15.5 year old Simba and 20 year old A-choo passed on, Boda would be here for us. So the way it worked out was not the way it was supposed to go.

But she gave us a gift. In the months to come (or who knows - years?) ~ when we finally say goodbye to the one and only A-choo

the Mister and I are going to The Denver Dumb Friends League and adopt two adult cats. We really wanted to do it right away but out of respect for sweet ol' lady A-choo ~  we didn't want to stress her out in her final years.

But it is because of Boda and because of her gift that I knew I had to share her story ~ to honor her ~ to pay tribute to her. I hope she knows what an impact she had on us. 

I think this says it all ~ for dogs and cats

Thank you, Boda.  We love you forever and always.