The Second Day of Spring

How long before unusual weather becomes the norm?  And once it reaches that stage, what is the weather called, since by being normal it is no longer unusual?  I ask myself these questions after a winter like this one.  And like last year.  And the year before that.

I've lived in the Pacific Northwest for most of my life.  It's my favorite part of this beautiful country of ours.  That being said, I don't particularly care for the "normal" winter weather: rain, rain, and more rain.

Several years ago, we were stuck inside our house thanks to a monster snow storm.  That was unusual.  Last year, I don't remember if we got any snow.  It was warm and wet and stayed that way through July -- ick.

This year the weather can't make up its mind.  We had very little rainfall for a long time, then torrential downpours (causing flooding), then sun, then snow.  The first week in February was so warm and sunny that I wore a tank top when taking Lotus on a walk.  We laughed at Punxsutawney Phil and the prediction of six more weeks of winter.  Really?  With this sun?

I guess the famous rodent had the last laugh.  Yesterday, on the first day of spring, we saw the biggest snowfall of the season.  In some parts of the state, not too far from where we live but at higher elevations, people reported over six inches of snow overnight.  We're pretty close to the valley floor so we didn't see snow like that, but it's the middle of the day, the second day of Spring, and we still have snow on the ground.

Welcome, Spring!

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

It has been a busy two weeks here.  I realized in the middle of the week that I didn't post a Menu Monday (which is probably okay since it's a freezer meal week) and who knows when I last posted any decent blog.  But that's okay.  Sometimes life gets busy.  Here's a bit of a glimpse into our schedules:

Work -- Honey and I had busy weeks last week.  I think I drove about 500 miles during the week for work (yikes!), helped with a half-day professional development session for a private school, and worked on developing this business a bit more. Thank goodness I have an amazing partner who does a huge portion of the work!  It's nice to be able to work with someone so reliable and dedicated.  Honey's work week lasted through Saturday evening, since he had to lead a workshop.  That meant that during the week we were both spending evenings working and prepping and staying up way too late.  By the time Sunday rolled around we were exhausted but we still had...

Rental -- We've been updating our rental and getting it ready for the next set of renters.  This includes installing new blinds, installing a dishwasher, fixing a major plumbing issue that suddenly appeared in the bathroom, doing some touch-ups on the paint, removing the misc., things left by the previous tenant, and carpet cleaning.  We'll finish all these chores this weekend so that the house is ready March 1.  Oh, and on top of that we had to find new renters.  As of this morning, I think we finally have the family that we want.  Let me just say that I now know why some people pay property management companies to do this for them!  Between the research and screening the bazillion people that called or emailed, I think that I've spent nearly 30 hours on this since last week.  Yikes!  Of course the rest of life doesn't put itself on hold when you're busy (much as we wish), so there were also issues with...

Pets -- I was very sad this week when I discovered that Paloma the Betta was dead.  She was outside the new tank, which makes me think that perhaps one of the cats had something to do with her demise.  Bettas like to swim near the water's surface, so I have to wait to get another until I find a lid.  It's tragic because Paloma loved her new tank and her new fishy friends: Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy.

The tetras, Goodness and Mercy (tetra #3 must've been sick
because he died in under 24 hours).

Paloma the Betta

Shirley the Guppie (aka, "Shirley-this-fish-will-survive")

Nicky's still hanging in here, which is a miracle.  He started to crash last week but another acupuncture session brought him back around and he's doing well (or as well as can be expected) and he's not in pain.  He has, however, lost most bladder control, so during the day he sleeps on his bed with a puppy pad and at night he wears a diaper.

I'll say again, having pets is a lot like having children.  Now I have proof -- I'm back to changing diapers every day.

So there you have it.  A busy life.  This didn't even include a recap of book club, Women in Biz gathering, writers' group, and everything else that also goes into life.  I started getting a bit sick on Monday, probably because I was tired, but a long nap (thank you, flexible work schedule!) and an exercise sweat-it-out session helped immensely.

Oh, and I took on another dissertation editing job for a bit of extra cash.  It's a rush job, so...yeah.  But at least it's a qualitative study and it's short (under 100 pages), so not too bad.

Does life ever slow down?

Sometimes a Case of The Mondays Does Not End Well (A Tale of Cats and True Love)

I am a Crazy Cat Lady.  There. I said it.  It's true.  At least that's what some people think, I'm sure.  We have four cats -- Canvas (10), Bunny (3), and a sibling pair, Nicky and Nora (2) -- plus our dog, Lotus (7), and Paloma the Betta Fish (who knows?).

Nicky and Canvas

Nora and Lotus

Paloma

Bunny the Parrot Cat

I love my furry babies.  And yes, I consider them my babies: I sleep lightly and listen for their cries, I feed them better than I feed myself, I take a million pictures of them because I think they're the world's most adorable babies.  I give them love and discipline and trips to the vet or chiropractor and keep a mental log of the funny things they say (yes, I have very verbal pets) and do and I'm always watching for signs of illness.  The latter stems from my paranoia over losing any of them.

When Hero, our older cat, died a little over two years ago, I was devastated.

Hero and Honey sometime during summer 2009

For a woman who doesn't always seem to be as prone to crying as television and movies would have one believe about the "fairer sex," I was a wreck -- sobbing and staying in a darkened room for the weekend.  Three things got me through that time: Bunny, Nicky, and Nora.

Hero was diagnosed with kidney failure in the beginning of 2009.  I knew that I would want to get another cat once she was gone, but I was (for the most part) content with waiting to find that new cat. Content, that is, until Megan, the wife of a former student, let me know that the emaciated stray cat she took in was actually pregnant. And then she gave birth to kittens. And two were manx.

The manx breed is my favorite, probably because of Hero.  Sometimes they're called dog-cats or man's-cats because they seem to be very pack-oriented. They are loving and verbal and generally smaller than most other cats.  Oh, and they have odd tails (or, in the case of Hero, no tail).  When I saw the two black manx kitties they were just three days old. How could I say no?  Honey agreed after a day or two, a bit hesitant about bringing in two kittens when we already had two cats, but they were manx and we knew we loved that personality.  We agreed to pick up the kittens when they were 12 weeks old (so they had plenty of time with Mom and Siblings to learn manners), I would drive them immediately to get spayed and vaccinated and then bring them home.  Hero would be tolerant, Canvas would hide (as usual), and the pain in my heart would be eased ever so slightly when Hero left.

Visiting the kitties when they were around five weeks old

The best laid plans...as they say.  The kittens started to get sick, probably something from their mother.  And Hero got worse and worse until one night I heard her call (like I said, I'm a light sleeper) and woke to find her struggling to move in the kitchen. I picked her up, held her, cried, and by the time dawn arrived she was gone. Sometimes I think that she knew it was time and that others needed me -- after all, I couldn't bring sick kittens into the house while I had a dying cat; I didn't want her immune system compromised. With the passing of Hero I contacted Megan, who said that the kittens were on a course of treatment from the vet. They were still young, just under ten weeks, and so I was content to have them wait and finish the treatment in the hopes that they would get better.

Meanwhile, on craigslist, I saw a post for a year-old cat from the animal shelter. She had been adopted and then returned, which is usually a death-sentence, but some employees wanted to give her another chance.  She had two weeks.  When I saw her face, I fell in love.  But we already had two kittens on the way!  Could I get Honey, the person who never had pets indoors until me, the person who said "One is enough" and then "Two is more than enough" and then "Two plus a dog is it" to agree to all these extras?  It was starting to sound a bit crazy even for me, but I blame my grief -- and the fact that Bunny's personality shone through her craigslist picture. Honey saw it immediately, too, and said "Well, if you meet her and she seems like she'd fit, then okay."  I called, met her, loved her, and took her home as soon as she received a clean bill of health from the shelter.  She was -- and is -- perfect.

As Bunny settled in, I waited for word on the kitties.  Unfortunately, the kittens were not getting better and Megan was becoming exhausted from caring for five sick kittens plus a cranky mommy cat and her own confused male cat who wondered what all the commotion was about in this tiny one-bedroom apartment.  I picked up Nicky and Nora (named after our favorite detectives -- because the kitties are black and white like the 1930s and 40s films) and took them straight to the vet.

We came away with medicine and a strict quarantine. I placed the kittens in the bathroom downstairs, made them warm and comfortable, and visited as often as I could for loves and to deliver medicine.  It was an exhausting process made even more so by the need to keep a routine as close to a hospital clean room as I could manage so that the illness didn't spread to the other pets.  Cover in smock. Enter room. Love pets. Leave room. Remove smock and place in washer. Scrub hands. Resume normal life. Repeat multiple times a day.

They just weren't getting better and after two weeks I was exhausted. I took them to the vet, who kept them over the weekend for treatment and monitoring. After two nights of rest, I was ready to tackle the issue again -- which was good because the vet said that there was no improvement, but the kittens seemed to be social.  Perhaps they just needed more love?

I knew the solution -- although I didn't tell the vet's office.

A kitty sling!  I could give them the love and attention they needed, go about my business, keep them away from the other pets (at least far away enough), and they would get better.

Sure enough, it worked. By the end of the week they were almost completely back to normal. Nicky always had a bit of a wonky eye (both almost lost their eyesight), but other than that they were fine.  They gained weight and pretty soon were up to 2.5 pounds, big enough to get them fixed.  Life was grand once again and the kittens fit into the household.

They played with Lotus.

And napped with Lotus.

Nicky even tried to nurse with Lotus.

They cuddled with Bunny, left Canvas alone, and every day I could walk into the kitchen and find a pile 'o kitties made even more adorable by the way they seemed to blend together.

As any other concerned and proactive parent would do, I researched vaccinations (deciding on minimal vaccines because they are indoor cats), found the best, holistic pet food, and gave them lots of play time and love.

We had one issue -- Nicky managed to knock Honey's stereo system off the desk (how??) and get tangled in the cords, which meant that he pulled his back legs out of the sockets trying to escape.  I took him to the chiropractor (she's amazing!) and within an hour he was fine.  Other than that, no issues.

Okay, they maybe, occasionally, stalk Canvas.

Nora is "my black fox."  She has fox-like features, she's fast and feisty.  She's also vocal.  And she wants to be the center of the world for everyone.  If I'm giving another pet attention, she'll push her way over to join.

If Bunny is on the couch, Nora snuggles up.

 If Lotus is sleeping, Nora will join her.

Nicky is my "chunky monkey." He's always been content to find a spot and sleep.  Sure, he's active if he finds a bug, hears a bird, or notices I've walked into the bathroom (he careens in and then flops over on the rug with a little "Pet my belly!" meow. Don't ask me why. But he does it. Every. Single. Time.).  Other than that, you can find him in a comfortable place, content to purr and give loves whenever someone joins him.  At night, he becomes very vocal. "Meow-row-row-row" he says, which I take to mean "Mom, where are you? Come get me!" I hop out of bed, find him in the bathroom (always), and put him on the pillow next to my head. In the morning when I wake up, he's still there, sleeping.

At the start of the new year, I decided that Nicky Chunky Monkey and Bunny-Bunny Fat Cat were taking after their parents a bit too much -- we could all use a bit of a slim down.  Everyone went on a bit more of a monitored food intake system and the results seemed to be positive for all concerned.  Bunny's still a bit of a fatty, but she's slimming, and Nicky seemed to slim down very quickly.

Too quickly, I realized several days ago.  As of January 13, I could pick him up, notice he didn't have much of a belly left, but not be too worried.  After all, Bunny gains/loses weight quickly, and Lotus has her weight fluctuate as much as three pounds in three days depending on her activity level and if anyone is indulging her with too many treats.

By January 18, Nicky was looking a bit too thin for my liking.  Then on January 19 our basement was flooded and I spent the next two days cleaning up that mess.  By Saturday, January 21, I picked up Nicky and panicked.  He was so bony!  What happened?

I called the vet (closed by this time) to see about getting an appointment first thing in the week.  And then I waited and watched, and watched and waited.

Sunday I knew that he wasn't eating.  That afternoon I realized he was sitting by his water dish but not drinking, much like Hero did in her final month.  I researched things online, praying it wasn't what I feared: CRF. Chronic Renal Failure.  Or, because of the seemingly sudden onset, Acute Renal Failure.  Highly unusual in a two year old cat!  But the symptoms fit, and , like I said, I'd seen this before.

Sunday evening Nicky seemed to perk up a bit.  He drank some water, tried to eat (although he was not successful), and moved around a bit.  I called the vet on Monday, not waiting for a return call from my panicked weekend message, and they were able to see me immediately.

It's a two-hour round trip to our vet, but it's worth it -- that's how good they are.  And I never worried here, like I did elsewhere, that they'll try to make up tests or expensive procedures.  They did a blood test, as I knew they would, and it came back as I feared: little or no kidney function.

I left Nicky there for fluids (to flush toxins) and observation.  It was the first time he was ever apart from Nora.  I tried to hold it together all day, but at night when I didn't hear his little voice I cried and cried and cried.

Today I waited.  The first news was good: after some fluids he seemed to perk up. He was sitting up, talking with everyone as they passed, and even ate a bit of food.  The latest news, however, was not good.  He still had not peed, even with several IVs of fluid, meaning that his body was holding all the toxins with no way to flush them out of his system because his kidneys were not working at all.

The vet is keeping him another night. They will try a medication to see about kick-starting his kidneys and then they'll give more fluids and once he is able to use the bathroom they will re-test the toxin levels in his blood.  If he is able to use the bathroom.  If not...well, that's the phone call I'm worried about.  And I expect to hear in the morning.

I expected my babies would be happy and healthy and full of life for at least 20 years.  After two years, it just feels like I've been cheated.  I haven't been able to focus and get much work done because all I really want to do is curl up and hide and hope that this is just a bad dream.  It would not be true to say that I can't imagine life without Nicky (or any of the others).  I can.  It's just that I don't want to.

Snow day?

I love snow.  But like any true Pacific Northwester, I like snow in small doses -- enough to cause a snow day or two, but not enough to completely shut down life as we know it for weeks on end.  Unlike other places that get snow consistently, our transportation system is not equipped to deal with massive amounts of snow and so we are ridiculed by other, harsher climates for our immediate inclination to shut down and hide indoors.

I like it. Waking to a winter wonderland means working from home, baking, crafting, breathing a bit easier because it's a "free day."  A fun day.

Perhaps my feelings are merely hangers-on from when I was a teacher and just wanted a break from 14- or 15-hour days. Certainly I have more flexibility now, and there is no reason why I should feel more crafty when I see the snow (even though I do) or why food should taste better on a snow day (even though it does).  But my experience as a teacher also means that I cannot quite wish for snow days the way that I used to.  You see, when I see the snow my first inclination is to be ecstatic and wish for more...and my second is to think about all the children who go to school because it's warmer or safer than home and it's a place to get a meal.  What will those children do?  And a snow day means that people who work an hourly, minimum-wage job, like my sister, may not get the hours (and wages) they need to be able to pay bills and to eat.  What will those people do?

I can wish with all my might that this country would provide better safety nets, allowing these children and adults to live with fewer difficulties and allowing me to live with less guilt about my snow dance, but all the wishing in the world does not change the way things are right now.  And so my Guilt Monster rears its ugly head, a product of my upbringing that included a triptych of guilt, Jewish, Christian fundamentalist, and Lutheran varieties all playing games to see who wins my liberal bleeding heart this time.  I resign and stop my snow dance, my snow song, and my endless snow-wishing.

And so, Universe, you can snow if you want to.  It's pretty.  We like it.  Many kids are dancing and teachers praying for just such a midwinter's miracle.  Just please...keep it reasonable.  And keep everyone safe.

Random Ramblings

Honey has the camera this week just in case Austin, Texas, provides an opportunity for some good pictures.  (Can we say "More inspirational greeting cards!"? I knew we could! :-)  It is, perhaps, a good thing that the camera is gone because it means that I can't get too sidetracked by finding new projects to do when I should be working.  It does, however, mean that I can't post my own photos as I blog.

I thought about forgoing blogging for the week, but then a better idea surfaced.  Why not just talk about a few things I like?  Maybe find some matching pictures?  Yeah.  That's a good idea.

The feeling of nostalgia struck me again this evening when I was putting a few things away.  I saw a picture of me and Honey from ten years ago -- our engagement picture.  Has it really been that long?  Sometimes it's hard to imagine a whole decade has passed (or just about -- June will be the official engagementversary).  For the first six years or so we did not spent a single night apart.  Then a marketing position called, complete with travel, and we got used to spending time apart.  We also got a dog.

Lotus made the house seem less empty, something our herd of cats didn't quite do (even though I love them with all my heart).

I miss my Honey when we're apart.  We often joke that we're Nick & Nora Charles.

I do believe that this gin-swilling, crime-fighting duo was actually me and Honey in a previous (albeit imaginary) past life.  Confession: If we ever attended a costume party, we'd be Nick & Nora. (Yes, Carrie, I know this is no surprise to you! :-)  Since we don't tend to circulate in areas where costume parties are the norm, I am content to just dream.  And decorate our theater room in Nick & Nora prints. (<-- That's confession #2.)

We watch The Thin Man (and the other films in this 1930s and 40s detective series) several times a year.  That's pretty incredible for a couple who doesn't really watch films at all!  We just love this story and the way the couple interacts.  It doesn't matter how many times I've seen The Thin Man, watching it again...and again...and again...makes me happy.  That is why when I first met my two youngest furry babies, I knew what their names would be: Nick & Nora.

What better name for two adorable black and white kitties, right?  (I have other furry babies, too, but let's focus on this story today.)  And now every time I see them I am reminded of the film that Honey and I adore, something that makes us happy.  (Yes, I'm aware that's a bit obsessive.)

There is one other film that brings nearly the same enjoyment: the 1956 classic The Court Jester.

It took years for me to convince Honey to watch it.  Perhaps that was because I compared it to The Princess Bride and said that in my mind the two movies were quite similar because they were cheesy and poked fun at other films and were very funny and fun to watch.  Honey did not originally like The Princess Bride (that has changed now, but it was a long battle!) and so the idea of an old musical that could be similar was not initially appealing.

That resistance seems so long ago now.  Honey loves this movie and sometimes suggests it to me because I love it, too.  In fact, it's a film that my whole family loves.  That is one of the reasons why when a number of the siblings decided to get similar or matching tattoos, we decided on the Purple Pimpernel.  (Watch the movie!)

I do love tattoos, although I only have a few (including tattooed eyeliner -- best tattoo ever!).  My latest was a lotus flower:

We chose it for its symbolism, but it is also special to me because it reminds me of the best dog in the whole world.

Can't have too many pictures of adorable babies, right?

Now I am considering my next tattoo.  I keep thinking that I can't just have something for my dog and nothing for my cats.  So I am thinking that I should perhaps get a tiny paw print on my chest, over my heart.  We shall see.  But I feel it's time for a little more ink.  Maybe that's the way I'll celebrate when I'm finally done with this dissertation.