A Letter To My Cat

Dear Egypt,
Oh, handsome boy. It's been one week since we said goodbye and I miss you so much. The physical realities of your absence are little needles that keep poking at me. I step extra wide around doorways because you liked to hang out at intersections, I tip toe out of the bedroom in the morning so that I don't wake you up, and I find myself scanning for you before turning in for the night, looking to see that you're okay and checking your bowl to make sure there's fresh water. You trained me well, Egypt.



For twenty years you were my shadow, my familiar. Quietly observing me with those golden, green eyes.

Our last evening together was so peaceful, I think we both knew it was the end of your road.

We all sat under the big tree out back, listening to the birds and the breeze, remembering and talking about all our long years together and the antics you used to get up to. Man, you used to be such a badass! 

More recently it was all about the naps and I don't blame you, you were ancient by cat standards. Dr. Stoops said you would have been over 100 years old in cat time. You deserved all the naps your little heart desired.

This last night you were the picture of somnolent tranquility, accepting enthusiastic doggy kisses from both Lola & Boswell with a dignity rarely seen when being half swallowed by an over affectionate, slobbering dog. Talk about grace under pressure...

This is how I'll always remember you best, solemn, regal. The King of the house.

Not that you didn't have your moments as the jester...

You two and those boxes... You loved them beyond measure. I was sad when we moved to this new house and didn't have a sunny window to put them in. 

You also had the knack of cool headed ironic humor. Is that normal for cats? You were a master, look at you, so serious with that embroidery floss all over your face.

"Look at me, I'm a clown. Yaaaay." 

No one did deadpan as well as you.

You were a good neighbor, too. Always friendly with the neighbor cats who'd come to watch in the windows. All except for that one time when that big ginger came flying over the fence and chased you under the shed for the night. That was scary for me too, I never heard you make noises like that before! We thought you'd run away! I was so worried that night, I made posters and everything. When you finally reappeared I didn't know whether to laugh with relief or strangle you for scaring the shit out of me. I know I wanted to strangle that other cat, or at least blast him with the garden hose. Come to think of it he never came around after that. Maybe I radiated malevolence on your behalf?

You were okay in the end, if a bit disheveled with dusty cobwebs floating from your ears and the tip of your tail. It's kind of funny in hindsight. Badass, forsooth. 

Oh cat, you were one of a kind. I miss your jet engine purring. I miss your cranky maowing, or should I say "MAOWING", because it was never subtle, you meant to be heard when you made your demands and accordingly, you roared like a lion. I still don't know how that much sound came out of such a small cat.

I miss you all so much, you & Chyna & Butch.

We've lost three of you in two and a half years. Ouuuch. Losing you was worth having you, and we'd do it all over again. You gave me twenty years. Twenty years!! I am so grateful for you, Egypt.

I hope you know how much you were loved, and that you carried it with you beyond. 

Til we meet again, tell the others I love them, too.

Your person always,

Me

Dear Friends,

Thank you for indulging me to say the things I couldn't say while he was still here.

~L

Dia de los Muertos

Thank you all so much for your kind words about my sweet kitty, Chyna. I'm so glad to know and there are so many tenderhearted people reading my little ol' blog who feel the same way I do, that our beloved critters are friends, and more than that, they are family. You bless me with your kindness and I thank you most sincerely.

Do you know about Dia de los Muertos? Day of the Dead? Even if you don't, I'm sure you've seen the most commonly associated image, the sugar skulls. Dia de los Muertos is a holiday that focuses on prayers & remembrance of friends and family who have died. The celebration begins on October 31st and ends on November 2nd, and the traditions include building private alters called "ofrendas" to honor the deceased, I think it's beautiful.

Ok, now let me back up a little. Back at the beginning of September, my pal Jacquie hosted a crafty party at her place in Santa Rosa. She had a bunch of cool things for us to try, one of which was painting paper mache skull masks (like these) which sounded like fun. Jacquie and I chatted away the afternoon, more chatting than crafting, but a great time nonetheless catching up with her and shooting the breeze. I left with a good start on my mask, promising myself that I'd get it finished by Dia de los Muertos so that I could share it with you guys. And then, as usual, I got swept up with new ideas - like Halloween swaps! I never forgot about my mask, I saw it every time I walked into my craft room, I'm just easily distracted. 

I was discussing Chyna's passing with some friends the day after she'd gone when one of them reminded me about the Day of the Dead and that it was a good time to remember those who've gone on, which in turn reminded me about that unfinished painting project, so I took it up once again, this time with her in mind specifically.

It was nice to do something creative, even if it was sooner than I would have thought possible after losing her. The previous week had been so stressful worrying and watching her every move, listening for her to make any noise, timing her medicines and foods, keeping the dogs from annoying her too much. It was relaxing to zone out, listen to a book and draw & paint for a few hours.

Her name really was Chyna Cat Sunflower, I named her after a Grateful Dead song, the words of which don't really make any sense, it's just lyrical imagery, fun and pretty. I always loved that song, give it a listen, you might be surprised how nice it is. I picked a few little elements from the song to incorporate in my own way...

Candles to remember her...

Shadow cat, watching butterflies near a shower of pearls.

Diamond-eyed Jack.

And sunflowers, of course there had to be sunflowers.

A giant sunflower for my Chyna.

And an alter for her, and for Butch...

 My furry angels.

Bones & treats for Butch

Beer for Chyna, she loved beer. It sounds ridiculous, but it's true, she was forever trying to mooch from Sean. He indulged her sometimes, it made me craxy... those two.

Water to drink and a soft rug for them to lay on, welcoming & familiar. Everything here was gathered from around the house, much of it meaningful and tied to other happy memories.

I left the alter up until last night, a day longer than necessary, but it made us smile every time we walked past it, and that's a good thing. 

I've only shared this with a small handful of friends, and I was so pleased to learn that many of them also have little shrines to the pets they've lost. Do any of you? I'd love to hear about it if you'd like to share.

Thank you again for being so supportive and sweet, you're the best!

oxo,

Lisa

Chyna Cat Sunflower

Hello Friends,

Sad tidings today... I really don't like writing posts like this, and it doesn't seem like it's been two years since I wrote one like it about our Butchie boy. This was so unexpected and so quick, I almost feel like I still don't know quite what to say about it.  

Last week we lost our kitty grand dame, our beautiful Chyna Cat Sunflower. 

Chyna was a regal queen of a cat. She lived a good life and was in good health her whole life, a sturdy, steadfast feline if ever there was one. Late last week, she rather suddenly seemed unwell, she didn't look herself at all and she was weak.

I took her to the veterinarian last Saturday morning and had a gambit of tests run on her only to find out that her kidney's were rapidly failing and she was indeed quite ill. 

Immediately, we began to do everything we could for her, fluids, antibiotics, B-12 injections, liquid iron supplements, Pedialyte, special foods, but she faded so fast. Cats have the rather awful ability to hide their sickness from you, and when it finally becomes apparent that there's something wrong, it's often too late to do much about it. Such was the case with Chyna.

Just five days after diagnosis, in the early hours of Halloween morning, she quietly made her way out of this world and on to the next. Chyna died here at home with Egypt right by her side, he was her constant companion her entire life. 

This is one of the last pictures I took of them together, the evening before she passed away.

They snuggled together every night from the time we added her to our family, twelve and a half years ago, their last night was no exception. He seemed so protective, so worried that night...

I think he and I both knew that she was at the end of her road. Egypt hasn't been well either, and I'm so worried about him. He's over 19 years old himself, and I'll be honest - I'm so scared that now she's gone he won't stay with me long, either. I hope with all my heart that my worries amount to nothing, only time will tell.

It never, never crossed my mind that we might lose her first, she was seven years younger than he is, and apart from being a hefty gal, she had always been in good health. 

Oh, sweet Chyna Cat, you are missed so much.

When we found her Thursday morning, we sat together for a long time, us at the critters. Egypt of course had been with her, but the dogs had not and we wanted them to see and smell her a bit so that they would understand that she was gone, they nosed her gently, then jumped up on the bed with me and sat very still and quiet. I think they were mourning, too.

I took this picture of the three of them, Egypt, Lola & Boswell that morning as we sat with her, before taking her body to the veterinarians for cremation. Those sunbeams are falling exactly where we found her, just outside her bed, right under the window. I didn't see them until after I'd taken the picture and they struck me as so beautiful... Even though Chyna was already gone, it felt like this quiet, still time was our last moment together. Bittersweet.

Thank you for visiting today and kindly reading about our sweet Chy, I could go on & on about her, she was quite a gal... You would have loved her.

oxo,

Lisa

Part II: Drifting

Hey Folks, welcome back, thank you for sticking with me here.

Part II: Drifting

I last left off tell you about a friend that was killed right here in my home town while he was out taking a ride on his motorcycle.

Carl was a good guy, and taken far, far too soon. He was 33 years old, he just got married in March, and he was a daddy of a five year old little girl. To say that he'll be missed is a gross understatement.   

In all honesty, Carl and I weren't super close in the present day, I wish that'd been different, but we always stopped to say hello when we'd see each other around town or at the farmers market. I first met Carl back when we were just kids, maybe 1983-1984. My best friend's mom and Carl's moms were very close friends and as a result, Carl was around a lot when we were little. I remember him as a sweet little guy, very little, I think he was about 3-4 years old when we first met, he was adorable.

The week between Carl's death and his funeral was sad one. Gutted for those he leaves behind, his new bride and his daughter, and all those who loved him, I couldn't shake that drifting, discombobulated feeling.

The fact that he was just going about his business, taking a ride, enjoying the summer - doing the same thing I was doing the night he was killed just breaks my heart. This could have just as easily been me.

It's unfair. And I know, I know that life is unfair, but somethings are just unfathomable and seem so meaningless. Why? Why did this happen?

Carl's funeral service was last Friday. There were hundreds of people in attendance. A reunion of sorts, the worst kind. So many familiar faces, friends and family, all wracked with grief.

I know that for as long as I live, I will never forget the sound of Carl's five year old daughter, crying sorrowfully, sobbing and calling out "I want my daddy!" in the church that afternoon, or the wave of fresh sorrow that crashed over everyone who heard it, like a physical punch to the chest. It was just as horrible as it sounds.

But there was goodness too, funny stories and memories of those who loved him.

After the service a group of about a dozen of us gathered for a meal, not ready to let each other go just yet. Then later, we gathered at the home of a friend. We talked, we watched the kids play, we thought about him.

The next day, I felt numb. Wrung out. 

On Sunday I decided I needed to clear my head, to shake loose some of the sadness clinging to me. I needed to be outside, so I packed a backpack and my dogs and headed to the hills for a while. I needed to get some air and be in nature.

I went to a place my brothers and I used to go to a lot and walked and walked and walked. Took a few photos, and said goodbye to Carl.

You can't stop, you can only move forward.

I don't know what was in that guy's head as he was driving though town that evening, I don't know why he didn't see Carl's bike. Maybe he was distracted, maybe he was drunk (they're looking into that and news of such has been excruciatingly slow), but whatever the reason, he killed someone who wasn't doing anything wrong, someone who was out for a cruise, who should have gone home to his wife and little girl, all because he wasn't paying attention. Lyndzi and Nevaeh's lives will never be the same.

Please, please be careful out there friends. Be present behind the wheel. Take that extra second when you're driving to look in your mirrors, over your shoulder and entering intersections, lives really do depend on it.

Love to you all,
Lisa

So Long, Little Buddy...

Hello My Friends,

Well, I've stalled long enough. I've been putting this post off for a few days, each night I start writing it, but then stop... maybe I just wasn't ready. I have sad news to share today, but it's something very important to me, and I need to acknowledge it here. A huge chunk of my heart has gone missing, and I can't blog-on like nothing happened, I hope you'll understand.  

If you're with me on Facebook, you already know, but...

My husband and I lost someone incredibly precious to us last Friday.

Our sweet, sweet Butchie-boy.

Butch was our first dog. Our son. Yes, we are those kinds of people, and damn proud of it. Our animals are our kids. We had Butch for far too short a time, just nine years. We adopted him when he was about a year old, so my little guy was only about 10 years old... small dogs are supposed to live a lot longer... I wanted another 10 years. Truth be told, in my heart I wanted another 50...

Back in March, I took Butch in to see his vet, he was straining to potty, and I thought maybe he had a bladder infection. After extensive blood tests and an ultrasound, the results were not good, he was diagnosed with advanced bladder cancer.

 We were gobsmacked. How was this possible? Butch is so healthy, so full of vigor and vitality! Here we were all just going along, completely ignorant, all the while this inoperable tumor was having it's way with his little body. The prognosis for his cancer was grim, our vet gave us 6-8 weeks with him, this type of cancer is aggressive. It didn't take us long to decide we were going to fight it for as long as we could afford to, and as long as it seemed to help him.

We treated Butch with chemotherapy for 3 months before we had to make the gut wrenching decision to stop. The cancer wasn't going away, it wasn't even stable... We were basically buying time, and the means to buy that time ran through my fingers like sand. Chemotherapy is very, very expensive. What a shitty choice...

When we stopped the chemo treatments we were again told "6-8 weeks". But my boy was strong. He gave us four full months...

 I don't want to grieve my sweet little buddy today, I've done so much crying I'm not sure I have any more tears. Today, I want to celebrate Butch! I want to share with you the kind of guy he was, because he was so much more than just a dog.

Things Butch loved:

Tug-o-war!

 He had the strongest little jaws you ever saw and a low center of gravity! Small but mighty, Butch would not give up no matter who how big his opponent was.

Kisses! 

(Mama likes them too)

The wind in his face! 

Oh, those flappy, little ears!  

Treats! 

Butch could leap a tall building in a single bound for a treat.

He liked everything, but best of all he liked cheese, hot dogs, Frito's, bacon, pizza crust... total junk food junkie.

...and beer!

Cuddles! 

Especially with little ones. He was a gentle soul.

 Didn't matter who you were, or what else you were trying to do. Butchie required cuddle time and lots of it.

Lola!

 He wasn't so sure at first, he was used to being an only child... the picture above is of their first meeting. It didn't take long until they were an inseparable team. Where one went, the other followed.

Right to the very end.

They were the terrible twosome!

Early morning wake up calls, get up dad!

Wrastlin', this was daily...

Playing in the mud.

Touring San Francisco.

Riding in Daddy's truck!

(Lol... I don't know why Sean is making that face... happy, dog breath perhaps?)

Butch liked to ride in the back seat with his front paws on the console so his head would be up front with us, that is until we went inside on some quick errand, then he'd jump into the drivers seat, always!

Camping & adventures! 

Have I mentioned our dogs are spoiled? Most of our vacations have been based around where we can take them, and Butch loved being outside... as long as we were there too.

More than anything, Butch was a goofball. Always there to make you happy...

Butchie had such a great smile. It was infectious. 

He was a real clown! Confession - that Halloween outfit up there, he hated it and I can't help but laugh! I only put it on him once, and just for a couple of minutes. He stood stock-still, then slowly tipped over like he was frozen! Feet sticking out perfectly straight and he simply refused to look at me until I took it off! Oh my goodness, that's a good and funny memory. I'm sorry sweet doggy, but it was.

The brush... 

OoOoOoh he loved to be brushed! It was like a big, long back scratch. If I was brushing the cats, he'd come and literally lay down on top of them and ask to be brushed.

His favorite chair. 

More specifically, the arm of his favorite chair.

And maybe you've noticed a theme running through most of these pictures... Butch's most favorite thing in his whole doggy life was his daddy.

Watching a game, or taking a snooze.

Butch was always at Sean's side.

My two boys. They were the very best of friends.

~~♥~~

A few funny things about Butch:

He was a terrible singer. Lola likes to howl at us, she does it almost every morning (on account of she thinks she's a wolf), "awooooooo". Often Butch would try to join in, and in his high, bright voice what he let loose sounded more like "yarr, yarrr, yarrrrrr!" It made me laugh, he tried so hard.

He hated it when Sean and I would hug. If say, we were standing in the kitchen, saying good morning or just being close. If our arms were around each other, he would stand at our feet and bark incessantly. I think maybe he just wanted to join in. If we were sitting next to each other on the couch, he'd wiggle in between no matter how tiny the space was, he'd find a way grunting and huffing the whole time.

He was "in love" with our cat, Chyna. I think he wanted to marry her, if you get my drift. She was definitely "his" kitty.

Whenever we went camping, he and I were sleeping bag buddies.

The first morning he was ours, I crouched down to let him out of his crate (they told me to leave him in the crate at night until he was used to his new home) and he peed right in my eye! Seriously. He was short, and the angle was just right, a little pee squirt hit me right in the face. Niiiice. That was the only night Butch ever spent in the crate. After that, Butch slept in a little bed right next to my side of the bed for the rest of his life.

He was obsessed with squirrels. I mean OBSESSED. So much as whisper the word "squirrel" and he would run to the nearest tree and try to climb it.

He had many names, most of which are silly, but he answered to all of them, these are just a few; Butch, Butchie, Butch-a-loo, Butch-a-roo, Butcher, Bud, Buddy, Butters, Sausage, Sauce, Swirly Cheeks (if you ever walked behind him on a leash, you'd know why), Cheetoh... and Poop.

No matter what we called him, we will never forget our little guy.

These are two of the last pictures I took of him, just hours before we went over the rainbow bridge... In the end, when he no longer wanted to eat or drink and could only walk short distances, he was content just to sit with us, and let the breeze blow through his nose.

On Friday, September 30, 2011 at about 4pm, Butch passed away here at home with the help of a kind mobile vet to help him along. He was in his own bed. Nose to nose with Lola. The last thing he did in this world was to give her a little kiss. We were right there too, whispering our love and assurances to him that we will meet again. Rubbing his soft, warm, little head and scratching behind those velvety brown ears.

Although I will miss Butch more than words can say, I am at peace with his passing. We got more time than we thought we would, and I know that the moment he left us was exactly the right moment. I'm happy that my boy is no longer in pain. No more yucky medicine. No more belly bands. No more tossing & turning because he couldn't get comfortable. No more cancer. 

He can run now and chase all the squirrels he likes. When I see him again someday, I know he'll be bouding towards me, ears flipping in the special, adorable way that they always did, and he'll be smiling like the sun!

I found a quote which I think sums him up perfectly...

To call him a dog hardly seems to do him justice, though inasmuch as he had four legs, a tail, and barked, I admit he was, to all outward appearances. But to those who knew him well, he was a perfect gentleman.

~Hermione Gingold

There will never be another Butch, he was truly a one in a million.

So long, little buddy, Mama loves you!

If you've made it to the end of this very lengthy, picture laden post, I thank you. I hope that I've conveyed to you a bit of a window into the deep love we have for our critters. They are family. I know many of you feel the same way, so give you furbabies a little extra love today.

Wishing you all a happy weekend.

oxo,

Lisa