the cat we adopted twice

This has been in my drafts folder since May of last year.  This is the beginning of the story about us adopting a nightmare kitty. In my next post, I will let you know how the 'story' resolved. Hold on to your hats..its gonna be a bumpy ride.

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There is a new kitty boy in our lives. It's been a rocky start. Ok, sometimes it just feels rocky all the time.

I had been scouring the Petfinder app starting about two weeks after Annabelle passed. Too soon..I know (now). But anyway, this one "little" cat stood out to me every time I searched. I secretly hoped one day I would search and not find him because I had this bizarre draw to  him and I hoped someone else would get him. I know that sounds weird. It was weird. So one day I went to the shelter and he was there. His shelter name was Lance. And he was so so affectionate. And for some reason the people at the shelter thought he had been declawed on all four. And yet he didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. So I felt like he was too good to be true and called the hubby and finally decided to bring him home.

Immediately upon getting him home we realized he did indeed have claws. I wasn't quite ready for that. So I called the shelter and they said I could bring him back. It was late and they were closing so I planned to take him back immediately the very next morning. He stayed in our bathroom. I encouraged our daughter not to get too attached to him because 'he was leaving'. I would go in and take care of him..and cry..because he was super cute and showed a lot of affection. Hubs thought he was 'too big'. So his fate was sealed. I took him back.

And I continued to think about him for the next two and a half weeks. The girl and I talked a lot about him. Hubs and I talked about him. In different lights of course. ; ) But I finally talked the hubs into trying again with him.

So one day I told the girl that after lunch we were "going to get him". She knew exactly what I meant. Y'all...he was an absolute terror. He was beyond crazy! It stressed me out so much that long before the week's end, we planned on returning him. But I never felt settled about the matter so it never happened. I also took him to the vet because we wanted to know just how much this tub of bricks weighed, because he felt like he weighed almost 20 pounds. 8.3. Whaaa?! He knows how to make himself feel heavy. Very weird. The vet told us that she expected him to weigh about 10  full grown. So the 'he is too big' argument went out the window...AB weighed 15. He currently weighs 10.5. ha. I think he's going to weigh a little more still.

He is extremely active. And playful. He was estimated to be about 8-9 months when we got him in May. One day he got so "playful" that he kind of went off the deep end and attacked me. I got two gashes in my ear! So we planned once again to send him back. Or better yet...I know..terrible thing to say..euthanize him because he's such a horrible and scary animal. Before you say anything..I know! But that never happened. I read a lot of books and talked to a lady I met on insta who is a behaviorist.  And we are taking more careful note of his affect before he goes nuts. And he is learning through some discipline not to go bonkers on me. (He did it today and he had not done it in quite a while. But it was less severe and he stopped much more readily). He's an active teenaged boy.

To be fair, he is quite affectionate..when he is hungry. Which is in the mornings before I get up. So I get some cuddle and purr time early in the morning. Sometimes he goes under the covers and suckles on my pajamas and purrs his brains out while I pet him. It's sweet..but kinda gross. He is super smart. He plays fetch. And he is very athletic. He can jump from our kitchen counter to on top of the upper cabinets. He can also jump from the floor TO THE TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR. No joke. It was crazy. He has only done that once..during one of his Tasmanian devil moments when he's just super charged. We are hoping he grows out the kitten stage sometime before we lose our marbles.

And that's how we adopted the same cat twice. We almost named him Ditto. But instead we named him Dudley.

the aftermath

I walked in the door with the empty carrier and wasn't quite sure what to do with myself.

I knew I needed to clean the litter box area and throw all of that stuff away. I mean..I was sad, but that wasn't my idea of something special to keep.

I cleaned things up and threw some things away. I washed the towel from her carrier and her special blanket. My girl put the blanket on her bed and I put the towel away with all the old 'extra' towels we rarely use.

If I walked past the bathroom, my head turned involuntarily to check to see if the litter box needed scooping. If I walked past the bedroom, I looked for her form in the crumpled up covers on the bed. In the mornings, I shed tears because I didn't have that cute little furry mouth to feed and doctor. My daughter checked the hallway every time she left the bathroom. She also missed being needed for drinks at the bathtub water fountain.

So many routines just shattered by loss.

But mainly I just rattled around the house, numb with grief.

I know she was just a kitty. But the grief is very palpable.

And in some ways, it set me back in grieving our little boy. So many similarities. I was the main caregiver for both. So many routines just gone. I was buried for a number of days. It was so hard. And for the first time, I experienced an anniversary of Bub's without Annabelle to sit and watch me to make sure I was ok, if I got upset. I felt a little lost. I would sometimes just hold her and cry..and now I needed her to cry into and she was gone too.

We are some better now. My sweet friend bought cute little necklaces for us within minutes of AB's passing and had those in the mail to us very quickly. We think of her and smile more than crying now. And somewhere along the way, I ordered necklaces with Annabelle's name on them. We wear one or both of those every day. It helps us. We can see them and smile and think of her.

We miss our sweet kitty. But thankful for all the love we could share with her..even if she didn't always 'love' in return. Cats!

Our sweet Annabelle's last day

On Monday March 20, I was a mess. I knew. I called the vet early but she was busy. She was supposed to call me back around 11 but by God's great grace, she didn't call then but called right after I got home from dropping of my girl for a college class. Dr G said the way she was acting meant her kidneys were failing pretty quickly. She said we could do fluids (and make her miserable because of repeated vet visits) in hopes of buying a little bit more time with her. But I knew from the last time we went to the vet, that she was 'finished'. She had let me know that she was done with interventions. I had been praying that I could keep my mental promise to her. So I declined the interventions and the vet and I both agreed, that this was a very reasonable and merciful time to stop. Tears fell. The vet couldn't get me in until 2pm..or wait until the next day and then she could come to our house. I had wanted to do this at home, but I didn't want to watch her suffer for yet another day. So I told her I would be there at 2pm. And then I cried. I busied myself crying on the phone to a friend but before I knew it, the dreaded time to leave was upon me. So I did my little hunt to find her buried in the folded bedspread on the floor. I folded back the layers to find where she had crawled in..much like many times before. But knowing this time was the last time. This time it broke my heart into a million little pieces. I snuggled her and talked soothingly to her, all the while falling apart on the inside. I could not lose it. I had to drive. So I put her into her kennel easily. Usually she could or would put up quite a stink. On that day, I just set her inside without a fuss. She didn't even cry on the way to the vet. She was so unwell. Bless her heart.

We were quickly ushered to a room and I took the lid off the carrier. I wanted to hold her. But she wasn't having it, so I set the lid back in lace so she wold feel safer. The vet came in ad told me she would be right back. Some techs came in and I signed some papers and answered some questions. Soon the vet came in with the first sedative. She told me she had to give it in the muscle and it was sting a little. It must have because she hissed. Her last parting gift to Dr G. Everyone left the room and I waited and watched. Soon, her head lowered a little bit and her breathing calmed significantly. I started petting her somewhere along the way, trying to soothe her and tell her what I good job she was doing. She purred for me which was a sweet parting gift to me. Soon after, her little head lowered against the carrier. I continued to pet her and tell her I loved her. I took the lid off the carrier at some point to kiss her and be as close to her as I could. (I was a little upset about the idea of holding her at this point, because I knew she was limp.) I pressed my face into her body, taking her in. I kissed her little head and back and rearranged her face so it wasn't pressed against the carrier. I knew it didn't matter but I needed and wanted to care for her and fuss over her, soI did. And then the moment arrived for the vet to come in with the last injection, to be given in the vein. She very gently lifted Annabelle's sedated body out of the carrier and spread her out on her side on a towel. I could see her face and pet her while Dr G administered the drugs in her hind leg. The room was completely still as we watched her, petted her and talked about how beautiful and soft she IS. I enjoyed using the present tense with her in those last moments. I cried and kissed her. After just a couple of minutes, the vet listened under her little tiny chest, and told me she was gone. The vet offered to make a paw impression so we did that and also did some paw prints. I asked for some of her fur, so she went for the clippers and a bag an did that for me. And then she quietly told me I could stay as long as I needed to and slipped out of the room. At this point, I was sobbing. Kissing her all over. Admiring her sweet tiny body. I tried to close her eyes, but they didn't really close. I snuggled and nuzzled around her neck and under her eye (my favorite softest place to kiss her) I wanted to breathe her in and for my skin to memorize the feel of her fur. I got fur all over my chapsticked lips, but didn't care. I kissed her some more. And sobbed.

I knew I had to be aware of the time. And yet I dreaded the thought of walking out the door. I took some pics of her precious little feet as I held them in my hand. Finally I knew it had to be 'time' whether I felt like it was time or not. I went down the hall to tell them I was ready to leave. A tech came in and wrapped up our sweet girl in the towel she was laying on, holding her much like a baby, face side up, just like my hubby did when we gave her steroid pills. I hugged the tech so I could be close to Annabelle one more time before she carried her away..giving her more kisses and looking at her one last time..one last touch. I turned my back and they carried her away. They told me I could pay later and I was so thankful because I was a wreck! After a bit, I went down the hall and gave them all the techs and Dr G a huge hug and thanked them. I didn't want to leave but I knew I had to. I gathered myself and put the carrier back together, placing everything inside the empty carrier for the terrible ride home. A tech walked me to the car so I could give them unopened food for a credit and gave me another huge hug and I was on my way. Heartbroken and somber. I had survived one of the most difficult things I had ever done. We are crushed and so so sad. Many tears. But we are so thankful for her little life and all she meant to us.

Forever loved, sweet kitty girl. Gone but never forgotten.

Annabelle Late 2002 - March 20, 2017

For the next little while, I am going to blog about my kitty. We had to make the difficult decision to put her to sleep a week ago today. It was devastating for our little family.  I know she's "just a kitty" but she was our kitty. And she came into our lives a little less than a year after we lost Bub. I have cried many tears with this sweet little fur ball standing watch to make sure I was ok. Bless her little heart. She's a special girl to us. And dealing with grief in another form has been a struggle that has brought back thoughts from the past.

Today I'm going to begin telling the story of her final months and her final day. My sweet friend Amy suggested doing it as a form of therapy. I have struggled with wanting to forget because it was so hard, but never wanting to forget because I loved her so much. So here goes...

We knew she was going down hill. we had lived through a few bouts of kidney failure. and those brought us some added years. Last year at Christmas, my girl and I enjoyed buying her some fun presents. We got her a catnip paper bag and some pop up cubes to rest and play in. We got a book from Amazon and it came in one of those fold out cardboard contraptions, so we laid that in front of her little two room pop up condo and it looked like a sidewalk. Very cute. It provided hours of entertainment for her and for us as we watched her having a good time.  But we knew she wasn't well and that it would probably be her last Christmas, so we wanted to enjoy her in it and we did.

A few months ago (I honestly can't remember if we learned this before or after Christmas) we found out she had probable lymphoma. The vet asked if we wanted to pursue treatment. My answer was absolutely not. I did not want to potentially harm us by exposure to harmful drugs. And besides, she already had a long list of health problems. I could not see putting her through any more misery. Just doing the blood draw was so traumatic that she wasn't herself afterwards for days. (I secretly hoped at this point I would never have to do more interventions for her because I felt like she was telling me she was 'done'.) So we did a round of oral steroids. It was cheap and safe. And it bought us a little bit of time.

Early on during the steroids, she acted like a kitten again. She was super playful, was eating and drinking well and gained back a bit of weight. She was so happy and enjoying life. but as it goes with steroids, the dose tapers off. And with the tapering off of the dose, we could see the life and liveliness in her tapering off as well. It was sad. We knew. And I spent a lot of time trying to get our daughter ready for the inevitable. And to get myself ready for what I knew would be the task at hand. One of the most difficult tasks of my life. But that's getting ahead of the story.

We were doing the steroids and trying to make the best of things. Giving our kitty girl extra cuddles and love when she would allow it. Giving extra broth pouches an wet food that I made into a slurry, in hopes of getting more fluids down her and making it into a treat for her. but most of her days were spent hiding, since it was winter. But we had some warm days and she enjoyed playing and we enjoyed watching her.

As we tapered off of the steroids, things started to change drastically for her. she was losing weight. and begging for water. It got to a really bad point on her last weekend. She just wasn't herself. I knew then that she was miserable and not enjoying herself in the least. I was preparing our daughter for the end. And trying to prepare myself for what I knew would be up there on the 'worst days ever' list.

To be continued...

I'm kinda back

So I think I'm going to resurrect the ole blog.  For a time anyway.

 I don't know how regular I will be but I know I have some things I need to work through and the people of Facebook probably get tired of me. Ha. 

So stay tuned. 

Should have a post up in the next day or two. 

going to the place to do the thing

***This is a rant...you've been warned. lol***

I have been getting phone calls from the funeral home that did Landon's 'stuff'.  It had always gone to the machine because I wasn't home. And I never called them back.

Well, a few days ago they caught me. Drats! Seems they have new owners now and they wanted me to come by and check on my paperwork and make sure their info is correct bla bla bla. I asked how long it was going to take and they assured me that if I didn't have any questions, it would not take very long. So I made the appointment at a time that I could squeeze it in 'just to run by there and get it done'. Whatever 'IT' was.

Well...I arrived for my appointment a few minutes late. I had to run by the vet to get some stuff for the cat (we think she has cancer..she's 14..it sucks but it is what it is..she's an old cat. Anyhoo..) I walked in the door and my eyes immediately went down the long corridor to the door we walked through to see our baby's little empty shell for the last times.

And lost it. Nice. : /

So I am quietly trying to pull it together, Gertrude and this older lady asked me why I was there and offered to escort me to a small room to wait. She was nice and is very good at handing out condolences so she pretty much insisted on giving me a hug while I am doing all the sucking it up I can get ahold of.

Well...I know..lots of well..a lady and a man came in. Double teamed. Fun. And they chatted a little bit about the plots we own bla bla bla. They also chatted me up about Landon and commented on his stone etc (honestly I was surprised they knew what was on it!)  and I think that helped them have an idea of what all we went through before they ever talked to me. It was sweet but hard talking to them. But really their intent for about 99 percent of the visit was pre-need. Y'all. I was so not prepared for any of that. I wish they had been more honest about their entire intent for the visit. But I guess if they did that, they would have very few people go through the door. But UGH. It took an hour!

So much info and so much to think about. On top of the emotions and the every day stress of being in remission. I didn't say a word about that..they would have been all over it and had me dead and in the ground before I could sign my name. LOL

I finally made it home around 2pm and dumped some veggies and fruit in the Vitamix and dumped a smoothie in an old Nutribullet cup with a lid and ran out the door to pick up someone.

Some days adulting is just hard. 

***end of rant..thank you for listening, my friends!***

Hello, amazon prime? I need boobs.

So..my fake boobs wore out. Yep. I didn't even know that was a thing.  But now I know.

It's a thing. A real thing.

I noticed a bit of cloudiness in the same corner of each one just the other day, and thought to myself that their days were numbered. And then I quickly dressed one day and washed the girls to put them on later in the morning. Which meant I was wearing my glasses.

Well. They weren't just having a little trouble. They were in full on failure. As in I could touch silicone. Y'all..I just wasn't ready for that.

I looked at my flat self in the mirror and started making calls.

I needed a scrip to get them paid for by my insurance. (they aren't cheap and we finally met our deductible..so I know for doggone sure I would like somebody else to pay for it) And there aren't very many days left for that this year. And I called the boob store and they had to order them. Where is an off the rack 'rack' when I need it? Sigh.

Oh well. It will be ok. They will be in before the end of the year and hopefully they are compatible with the brand I was currently using. Nothing is simple, folks. I told my hubby tonight that if it weren't for insurance and all that jazz, I wish we had just overnighted them from amazon or something.

Because I hate to say it, but it's been hard. As in depressing. Very depressing. I hate the way I look flat. I was busty before my surgery and my new girls were cute and perky and just right for my small frame. And now..nothing.

I dread going out the door and people looking at me. Never mind I went around for about seven months like this after surgery. But I guess I was psyched up for that. This came out of the blue and it has taken me by surprise.

Cancer steals so much. And now it's getting another laugh at my expense. I know I am more than the sum of my parts. I get that. But I also get it that I just want to fit in and not be self conscious.

My girl and I even tried to make a temporary set yesterday. That didn't work. I have been looking up crochet patterns to see if we can find something simple enough for her to make (since that is a new hobby of hers).

So yeah..Flat Stanley's very flat sister is on the loose this holiday season. Merry Christmas y'all. : )