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.

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."

Unintentional Buddhists

Last summer on a trip to Iowa my husband stopped the car twice to save bugs. Yup, bugs. Yup, twice.

While driving down a peaceful street in the small town where I grew up I noticed a spider frantically hanging on to the passenger side mirror as his web was beginning to untangle in the breeze. I commented on the situation to my husband, he pulled the car over, scooped up the spider and set him in the grass alongside the road. Amazing, right?

Well on the same trip while driving along a similar quiet street we noticed a ladybug hanging on for dear life to one of the windshield wipers. My Mom was in the car with us and when The Mister slowed down to pull over she asked what he was doing. I said, "He's saving a life." She looked quite puzzled then smiled as she watched him carefully pick up the ladybug and lay it in the grass. 

Last summer while walking the dogs I noticed a tiny bunny quivering in the grass near a busy street. I quickly walked the dogs home and went back to check on the little ball of fur. By this time he was sitting in the middle of the road and I knew it was only a matter of time before ~ well, you know. So taking a chance that Mommy was not around to care for the babe, I scooped him up (barely filling the palm of my hand) and carried him away from the street. 

I decided to settle him in our backyard, fingers crossed that he would be safe. At least he was away from traffic.

Over the next days and weeks we kept an eye on him. The Mister even printed out "Please watch for a tiny baby bunny" in Spanish and gave it to our landscapers. They smiled and nodded and I'll be darned ~ they watched out for him. We named him Karson (because I found him on Carson Street - but all of our animals are "K's" so we spelled it Karson). He spent the summer safely under our deck, coming out in the morning and late afternoon to munch his grassy breakfast and dinner. 

We have a lot of bunnies in our yard and we think Karson is still out there. We want to believe he is.

Fast forward to this winter in the West ~ one of the coldest and snowiest we can remember. Having been Colorado residents for 40+ years we usually don't mind winters here. It snows, but the sun comes out in that brilliant blue sky and melts it all within a couple of days.

Not so this year. It has been snowing and frigid cold since early December and that snow is not going anywhere.

And that is no bueno.

So when we noticed a teeny, tiny little mouse in our garage a couple of weeks ago we knew killing him was not an option (remember the spider and the ladybug) and turning him out into the cold was not an option either. So we decided as long as he confined himself to the garage we would just keep an eye on him.

However when we discovered he had invited a friend inside to share his space, we knew we had to do something. Again, killing was not an option so as is our wont, we turned to Amazon and found [what we hoped would be] the solution. Meet the Mice Cube a humane way to handle an unwanted visitor.  This blogger explains it well.

The Mister followed the directions exactly and after a couple of days - lo and behold - I heard little stirrings in the tube this morning. Sure enough I saw a tiny little guy munching on some peanut butter inside the cube. The Mister checked the other cube - and bingo - another snacking away! I held the door as our dogs and especially the cat, curiously watched as he carried them outside and released them into the wild. We feel the little critters will survive the weather as it is warming up this week.

[One thing to note - should you have visitors like this and want to do the humane thing - check the cubes often because the little guys can suffocate if left in there too long.]

As I thought about our experiences with the living creatures with whom we share the planet ~ from spiders to mice to bunnies ~ I smiled. My passion is rescue pets (especially older ones) ~ no matter the price of their care ~

and it seems my love for them is spilling over into all creatures great and small. We all serve a purpose on this planet.

I'm not saying we're all that ~ we're nothing special. But I do believe we now find ourselves as unintentional Buddhists. And that's not such a bad way to live. 

The Circle Game

On this chilly winter morning with a purring cat balanced on my shoulder I perused articles on my Facebook page. I smiled knowingly as I read this article written by a young Mother of boys and my own memories came flooding back. I did a bit of writing when my boys were little and once wrote an essay on what it was like being the Mother of boys. (I wish I could find it...) Of course not having daughters I had no real way of comparing, but I knew little boys were special.

Unlike the woman in the article who has three sons, I only had two but they kept me on my toes. They grew up running with their dog - peanut butter sandwiches in hand - up and down mountain trials with [at least one of them] falling into streams. 

One summer we planted a garden from seed and they ate peas out of pods and green beans standing in the dirt. Winters we learned to ski with [at least one of them] riding the ski patrol sled to the bottom of the hill and visiting the on site doctor...

We swam in lakes and played bat and ball in the front yard. I taught them crafts and watched them draw dinosaurs. They built lofty Lego space stations and flew Millennium Falcons thru the stars. 

They thought I was a super hero when I squished a scorpion with a TV Guide as it was slinking dangerously close to their feet. We loved our cats (there were so many) and we loved our dogs and we loved our mountains.

And soon life will come full circle as my son welcomes his own little boy or little girl into the world. 

"And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game."
[Joni Mitchell]

Play Time

Yesterday I took two steps toward a more positive and happy life.

I'm a big fan of Facebook. First it is an extremely efficient way to reach all my friends and family in one fell swoop.  No way could I stay in touch with so many people if I tried to reach them all individually. Second - I garner some really interesting information thru articles and websites and can always count on someone responding if I'm gathering information on something. Third - it's just fun. Several times a day someone shares something that makes me laugh or touches my heart.

I always say that working alone as I do, my friends and family on Facebook are my "co-workers." Interacting with them on Facebook is how I can surround myself with people even though I am often just in my studio alone. Well, alone human-wise; I always have a dog or two and a cat with me but conversations with them are pretty one-sided.

I am a huge animal welfare enthusiast and have strong feelings about rescue dogs and cats and senior adoptions. So, of course, there is no lack of conversation on Facebook regarding those subjects and I soon found myself emotionally entrenched with all manner of rescue groups.

Recently I began to feel myself falling down the rabbit hole (so to speak) as day after day, post after post I saw an endless stream of animals in need. So many sad stories - some with happy endings, some not. It began to take a toll on me. 

So yesterday I began unfollowing one page and then another. I guess I'm just not strong enough to see all the hurt in the world. I will always feel strongly about animal welfare and while I deeply admire and respect the people who physically are there for these rescue animals every day - there are things I can do quietly, do locally and do in other ways. It is just too much to see so much every day, all day.

The other positive action I took yesterday? I colored a very detailed drawing of a cat (not this one - that's my real cat, Kia) for over 7 hours. Yup - over 7 hours - and I'm still not done. And apparently I'm not the only one doing this. 

However, let me explain why this is so out of character for me.

Growing up I was encouraged to be productive over playing. In fact I would be called inside from playing with friends to do needlework or some other productive task. 

Now that I'm all grown up I have mixed feelings about this. I understand why I was raised this way; it is the way my Mother was raised. While I'm grateful for the creative skills I learned and continue to use in my creations to this day, I am sad I never learned how to play. Relaxing does not come easily. I feel guilty if I'm not being productive.

I'm 61. It's time to play.

Three Things

Long time no blog.

Maybe it was just too hard to return and see A-choo's precious face in my last post.  Or maybe life got busy. Whatever the case I'll give it another go. 

I have good intentions with every new year. So on the eve of 2016 ~ here we go.

I woke early today feeling inspired. I long ago gave up making New Years Resolutions. I prefer to call them Goals. Same thing I guess, but goals seem more achievable. What I thought about this morning although seemed less like goals and more like a shift in attitude.

I now aspire to do three things each morning: Positive Thought(s), Positive Action(s) and Gratitude.  By this I mean I plan to start each day by jotting down a positive thought for the day, followed by positive action (my plan for the day) and three things I am grateful for. Easy peasy. But I do think it will set the day off on a good foot.

I dug out an empty journal (I collect them with good intentions...) and made my notes. 

Awake and inspired, with puppies sleeping at my feet I picked up a book from my bedside table. It is one I started a few months ago and never finished. I don't allow myself a lot of reading time so saving reading for nighttime is a mistake. I always fall asleep two pages in. 

The book I grabbed just happened to be another inspiration ~ "the life-changing magic of tidying up" by Marie Kondo. A timely read as January is typically when I think about things like tidying up. 

Only a few chapters in I found myself nodding in agreement with the thoughts on the pages. It comes down to three things (there's that three things thing again...): 

Discard (read that ~ get rid of a lot of stuff you don't even realize you have), Store (read that as things you really need like ~ oh I don't know ~ food and clothing) and keep only things that bring you joy (that one is self-explanatory).

That last thought resonated with me because ironically I had just heard it last night. In an episode of  "Transparent" Shelley (the Mom character brilliantly played by Judith Light) was in the process of a major purge and reorganization of her home. Her daughter, Ali, (the fabulous Gaby Hoffman) was upset that her Mother had tossed out some of her childhood art. Shelley's response? "It didn't bring me joy."

Boom. There it is. Surround yourself only with things that bring you joy. And as I looked around the room I saw a lot of "things" that are just that - things. They don't necessarily bring me joy; they just kind of take up space. And I am reminded of something I learned in photography ~ there is something to be said for negative space. 

On that note ~ I will leave you with someone who's space is positive (usually...) and definitely brings me joy.

Cheers!