This is my first morning waking up to not have Punkin staring me in the face waiting for her food. Today is the beginning of a new morning routine for me. Though Punkin wasn't there, Tino, Milo, and Muffy all were there greeting me with their own unique smiles and purrs.
For the very first time in 18 years, I did not open a can of cat food in the morning. Only Punkin ate the canned food; all others eat dry stuff. Except Tino is waking up to a new routine as well because he would have a small snack of canned food each morning. Not anymore, Tino. You could stand to lose a few pounds anyway.
A huge sigh of relieve overcame me this morning when I went downstairs to the litter boxes and didn't find an overwhelming mess just outside of the boxes. Fear and guilt overcame me last night when I thought perhaps maybe, just maybe, it was one of the other cats messing, and not Punkin afterall. Who is to really know when 4 cats use the same boxes? But what I thought to be true, was. No urine messes to clean up today! Oh, and I didn't wake up this morning to the sound of Punkin hacking up a pile of puke! No more trips to Walmart to fill my shopping cart up with boxes of canned cat food! For 18 years, I have been buying loads of cat food. It gets expensive at 44-48 cents a can. During the past year or more of her life, Punkin was eating 2-3 cans of cat food a DAY! That is about a $1 a day or more. Now I will have more money to buy myself some ice cream :)
Don't get me wrong; I miss her. Terribly. And still hear her walking across the floor from time to time. Since her hips were bad, she had a little "shuffle" about her that was very distinctive. However, today I am looking at the silver lining, and though I miss kissing and cuddling her, I won't miss certain aspects of caring for her.
For those of you who may feel sorry for me for not having to clean up cat vomit anymore (are there any out there?), don't worry. With 3 other cats, they are sure to keep me busy cleaning up their own piles of whatever they decide to force up their espophogas and through their mouths (though dry cat food barf and canned cat food barf are in two different classes of barf....way easier to pick up and clean).
And as an aside: If all of my cats live as long as Punkin did, I will get to enjoy them and love them for another 13 years! That is a long time. However, if I do decide to get another fourth cat, which I definitely don't want to do, but IF I ever do, his name is going to be Francisco. Cisco for short. Its from the movie "Elf" when Buddy the Elf hears a guy's name is Francisco and repeats it saying "that is fun to say!" Indeed, Francisco IS fun to say and will be the name of my next kitty. A LONG LONG LONG time from now ;)
Plus, saying I have 3 cats sounds so much less "crazy cat lady" than having 4 cats. Dontcha think?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
. . . .And Then There Were Three
She wasn't even gone yet, and already I was acting as though she was. Last night on this blog, I deleted her picture and changed some headings to reflect "3" instead of "4". It will be weird to answer "Three" to the question "how many cats do you have?" Punkin has been with me for exactly 18 years. Her entire life; half of my entire life. She is the longest relationship I have ever had aside from my immediate family.
The decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching and guilt provoking. How do you know when the time is right? The answer to that is: You just know. The difficult factor with Punkin is that she wasn't in pain. Or at least she didn't seem to be in pain. But she was sick. Sick with a hyperthyroid which medication did not seem to help. And she was messing in the house. Vomit, urine, and more vomit. One day, there were 7 different piles. And her back legs were about giving in. And she was deaf. But she was happy. Just last night she sat on my lap purring away while I silently said goodbye with several kisses. Goodbye. The most difficult word in the English language for me to say.
All day long, I held it together pretty good. I arranged for a dear friend to take Punky in for me. I couldn't do it myself, and I figured her loss would be torture enough. Why torture myself further. Another dear friend distracted me with a trip to Gooseberry Falls which is where I will now think of Punky's resting place since I declined to have any other reminders or keepsakes other than my own photos and memories.
Leaving my house to go to Gooseberry was difficult for I knew that once I left my house, I would not see her ever again. I left without saying the "G" word. Without anything. I said what I needed to say last night and throughout her entire life. I fed her her last meal which was Super Supper 9 Lives. I hope she was happy with that choice. So I left. I waited in the car while Kara came in to say her goodbyes and we went on our merry way.
She was on my mind all day, but Gooseberry was a lovely distraction. A purrfect distraction you might say. Beautiful and Gorgeous. Perfect in all other sense of the word.
I kept it together quite well. Came home. Called my mom and informed her. Pulled myself together and took the dogs for a hike. Now that I am home, not having to put on a front, reality is setting in. Nobody to see the rest of the day so tears are flowing freely as I clean out her food dishes, rinse out her litter box, and blog. But blog I must for I need to release it somehow.
Few people know because it hurts too much to tell anyone. Sympathetic How Are Yous or I'm Sorries will put me into uncontrollable sobs at this point so people must not know quite yet. Not until I can tell them without bursting into an ugly cry. For all 3 of you who may or may not read this, please respect that for me at this time. I don't need hugs or how are yous or cards or anything nor do I want them. Life as usual. I know you all care; I know what you want to say; I know you are sorry. And thank you for all of that. I feel your love and your sympathy.
Whenever I see a warm patch of sunlight, I will be reminded of Punky's love shining down on me and she will remain in a corner of my heart forever. I love you and miss you deeply.
The decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching and guilt provoking. How do you know when the time is right? The answer to that is: You just know. The difficult factor with Punkin is that she wasn't in pain. Or at least she didn't seem to be in pain. But she was sick. Sick with a hyperthyroid which medication did not seem to help. And she was messing in the house. Vomit, urine, and more vomit. One day, there were 7 different piles. And her back legs were about giving in. And she was deaf. But she was happy. Just last night she sat on my lap purring away while I silently said goodbye with several kisses. Goodbye. The most difficult word in the English language for me to say.
All day long, I held it together pretty good. I arranged for a dear friend to take Punky in for me. I couldn't do it myself, and I figured her loss would be torture enough. Why torture myself further. Another dear friend distracted me with a trip to Gooseberry Falls which is where I will now think of Punky's resting place since I declined to have any other reminders or keepsakes other than my own photos and memories.
Leaving my house to go to Gooseberry was difficult for I knew that once I left my house, I would not see her ever again. I left without saying the "G" word. Without anything. I said what I needed to say last night and throughout her entire life. I fed her her last meal which was Super Supper 9 Lives. I hope she was happy with that choice. So I left. I waited in the car while Kara came in to say her goodbyes and we went on our merry way.
She was on my mind all day, but Gooseberry was a lovely distraction. A purrfect distraction you might say. Beautiful and Gorgeous. Perfect in all other sense of the word.
I kept it together quite well. Came home. Called my mom and informed her. Pulled myself together and took the dogs for a hike. Now that I am home, not having to put on a front, reality is setting in. Nobody to see the rest of the day so tears are flowing freely as I clean out her food dishes, rinse out her litter box, and blog. But blog I must for I need to release it somehow.
Few people know because it hurts too much to tell anyone. Sympathetic How Are Yous or I'm Sorries will put me into uncontrollable sobs at this point so people must not know quite yet. Not until I can tell them without bursting into an ugly cry. For all 3 of you who may or may not read this, please respect that for me at this time. I don't need hugs or how are yous or cards or anything nor do I want them. Life as usual. I know you all care; I know what you want to say; I know you are sorry. And thank you for all of that. I feel your love and your sympathy.
Whenever I see a warm patch of sunlight, I will be reminded of Punky's love shining down on me and she will remain in a corner of my heart forever. I love you and miss you deeply.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Cherrio Faces and Fake Martinis
I just returned from a most fabulous vacation to Las Vegas! Ever since I came home, all I can think about is returning. We had such a grand time. Not since my trip to New Orleans several years ago have I been this excited about a trip. We are a pretty tame bunch of folks so there aren't wild and crazy stories to share. Aside from the wedding I attended, Cirque Du Soleil's "O", Blue Man Group, and Penn and Teller, the highlight of my trip can be summarized by M & M's, Cheerios and a Martini.
Let me explain. In reverse order.
The Martini. This was not my drink, though I pretended it was. My friend and I were sitting on a balcony watching a free water show at the Wynn. We technically should have bought a drink, but we were too cheap to splurge on a beverage at the Wynn being they are all hoity toity. So this lady and her husband got up from a table and we swooped our way in, took hold of their beverage glasses, and pretended they were ours. When we changed tables to get a better view, we made sure to grab "our" empty drink glasses. Your average Vegas goer would have ordered a drink from the bartender, but we are not your average Vegas goers. Made for a good laugh and lasting memory.
The Cheerio Face. I fell in love with a Cheerio face. We were eating Honey Nut Cheerios one morning and some fell to the floor in a random pattern that resembles a happy face. No special effects. Just a random face. I loved the little guy. I would have married him had it been legal to wed a Cheerio face in Vegas. The picture of my Cheerio Man is my favorite picture of my entire trip. I even took a video clip of the little fella.
M&Ms. There is a create your own M&M machine at M&M world in Las Vegas. You know, the kind where you can put your own sayings and logos on the tiny piece of candy coated deliciousness? Well, I wanted to get a gift for my cat sitter so I thought that would be perfect. So as I am creating my message, this guy asks if he can video tape me. For what? I ask. He tells me I am the very first customer to use the create your own message machine and he wants to video tape it so I let him. Nevermind I had forgotten to put deodorant on, had wet hair, and didn't put any make up on that morning. He informs me that the video will be used inside the store and will also be sent to Disney World (Or Land. Or Both.) for use there as well. Super cool! Then he had me write down my name, address, and phone number so that he could send me a care package. Neato!
Sooooo, next time you are in Vegas or Disney and see a video of some deodorantless girl with wet hair, an empty martini glass and married to a Cheerio Face, you'll know its me.
Let me explain. In reverse order.
The Martini. This was not my drink, though I pretended it was. My friend and I were sitting on a balcony watching a free water show at the Wynn. We technically should have bought a drink, but we were too cheap to splurge on a beverage at the Wynn being they are all hoity toity. So this lady and her husband got up from a table and we swooped our way in, took hold of their beverage glasses, and pretended they were ours. When we changed tables to get a better view, we made sure to grab "our" empty drink glasses. Your average Vegas goer would have ordered a drink from the bartender, but we are not your average Vegas goers. Made for a good laugh and lasting memory.
The Cheerio Face. I fell in love with a Cheerio face. We were eating Honey Nut Cheerios one morning and some fell to the floor in a random pattern that resembles a happy face. No special effects. Just a random face. I loved the little guy. I would have married him had it been legal to wed a Cheerio face in Vegas. The picture of my Cheerio Man is my favorite picture of my entire trip. I even took a video clip of the little fella.
M&Ms. There is a create your own M&M machine at M&M world in Las Vegas. You know, the kind where you can put your own sayings and logos on the tiny piece of candy coated deliciousness? Well, I wanted to get a gift for my cat sitter so I thought that would be perfect. So as I am creating my message, this guy asks if he can video tape me. For what? I ask. He tells me I am the very first customer to use the create your own message machine and he wants to video tape it so I let him. Nevermind I had forgotten to put deodorant on, had wet hair, and didn't put any make up on that morning. He informs me that the video will be used inside the store and will also be sent to Disney World (Or Land. Or Both.) for use there as well. Super cool! Then he had me write down my name, address, and phone number so that he could send me a care package. Neato!
Sooooo, next time you are in Vegas or Disney and see a video of some deodorantless girl with wet hair, an empty martini glass and married to a Cheerio Face, you'll know its me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Prettyful Piggies
I admit I was warned, but I didn't believe it.
"You'll get addicted", they said.
"No, I won't. It can't be that spectacular", was my reply.
"Just wait, you'll see", was their reply.
They won. I lost. I had my first pedicure today and I loved it. After initially getting past the overwhelming fumes of nail polish and nail polish remover, I was hooked. On second thought, maybe I was hooked BECAUSE of the overwhelming fumes. Hmmmm. Anyway, I loved it fumes or not. Here are some photos to help commemorate the experience.
This is the obligatory "before" shot. Yes, my feet are bony and perhaps there is some hair visible. I don't care.
And they are rather "vein-y" too. I still don't care. This is during the relaxing experience that is a pedicure.
Naturally, the after shot. The color was not really my numero uno choice, but it matches a dress I intend on wearing to my friend's wedding. In Vegas. Which is the reason for this, my first but definitely not last, pedicure.
My only regret is that I didn't splurge on a manicure as well. It was only $10 more, but I declined. Just the other day I cut all my finger nails short. Plus I hate my hands, and having them painted all pretty just draws unwanted attention to them. So I'll settle for pretty toe toes and call it good.
Better get busy. I have a lot to get done before heading to Sin City.
"You'll get addicted", they said.
"No, I won't. It can't be that spectacular", was my reply.
"Just wait, you'll see", was their reply.
They won. I lost. I had my first pedicure today and I loved it. After initially getting past the overwhelming fumes of nail polish and nail polish remover, I was hooked. On second thought, maybe I was hooked BECAUSE of the overwhelming fumes. Hmmmm. Anyway, I loved it fumes or not. Here are some photos to help commemorate the experience.
This is the obligatory "before" shot. Yes, my feet are bony and perhaps there is some hair visible. I don't care.
And they are rather "vein-y" too. I still don't care. This is during the relaxing experience that is a pedicure.
Naturally, the after shot. The color was not really my numero uno choice, but it matches a dress I intend on wearing to my friend's wedding. In Vegas. Which is the reason for this, my first but definitely not last, pedicure.
My only regret is that I didn't splurge on a manicure as well. It was only $10 more, but I declined. Just the other day I cut all my finger nails short. Plus I hate my hands, and having them painted all pretty just draws unwanted attention to them. So I'll settle for pretty toe toes and call it good.
Better get busy. I have a lot to get done before heading to Sin City.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Minnesota Lawn Mower Massacre
Generally I enjoy mowing the lawn. In fact, I mow my own lawn, plus I mow my parents' lawn just for the fun of it. This time of year, mowing the grass leaves me feeling very guilty.
At my parents' house in particular, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of little crickets hopping around the backyard. When I mow the lawn, they are bouncing all over the place. I hate mowing over those little critters, but it really is unavoidable. I did hesitate when I encountered a little frog and a mature grasshopper. They barely escaped with their lives and they probably would not have been so lucky if another person was behind that scary machine.
When I see those little crickets frantically hopping to save their precious lives, I try to send them telepathic messages to hop on over to the newly mowed portion. Since that part of the lawn was just cut, it's a safe bet that the lawn mower will not pass that way again. Alas, they don't seem to get it and continue jumping into the longer unmowed sections; the sections I am about to cut with the twirling blade of terror. If I happen to spot one or two hopping to the already mowed areas, I will pause and let them hop on over, but most go for the longer blades of grass.
When all is said and done, I have visions of the crickets settling down to dinner around their cricket TVs watching their cricket evening news with the devastating bulletin about the deaths of so many of their kind from this not-so-natural disaster. Forgive me crickets of the world. I really am sorry.
At my parents' house in particular, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of little crickets hopping around the backyard. When I mow the lawn, they are bouncing all over the place. I hate mowing over those little critters, but it really is unavoidable. I did hesitate when I encountered a little frog and a mature grasshopper. They barely escaped with their lives and they probably would not have been so lucky if another person was behind that scary machine.
When I see those little crickets frantically hopping to save their precious lives, I try to send them telepathic messages to hop on over to the newly mowed portion. Since that part of the lawn was just cut, it's a safe bet that the lawn mower will not pass that way again. Alas, they don't seem to get it and continue jumping into the longer unmowed sections; the sections I am about to cut with the twirling blade of terror. If I happen to spot one or two hopping to the already mowed areas, I will pause and let them hop on over, but most go for the longer blades of grass.
When all is said and done, I have visions of the crickets settling down to dinner around their cricket TVs watching their cricket evening news with the devastating bulletin about the deaths of so many of their kind from this not-so-natural disaster. Forgive me crickets of the world. I really am sorry.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Butt Cracks and ECTs.
I kept a guy alive today. For real. It was a very bizarre feeling to say the least. Here is how it happened (be prepared for work lingo).
I floated to 4th floor today. On a 1:1 who goes for ECT treatments each morning. Since he was on a 1:1, I got to accompany him for his treatment. I have worked at my job for more than 12 years and have never seen an ECT treatment so I was a little nervous. They prepped him and began the treatment. The staff were amazingly nice, patient, and explained everything they were doing to me which was more than I anticipated. The RN who was handling the case explained the use of muscle relaxers which in turn paralyzes the patient for about 5 minutes. During this time, their lungs also become paralyzed so they lose the ability to breath. During the ECT process, the nurse has to breath for the patient by way of an "ambu bag". The RN summoned me to the head of this patient, and I got to breath for him. The importance of this did not register until the RN says:
"Ever kept someone alive before?"
ME: "No".
RN: "Well, you are now."
Wow! I had the power. I was God for one small moment. Well, not really, since if I did screw up in any way, there were several people around to make it right again. Sort of like Back Up Gods. Or maybe I was the Back Up God. Either way, it was awesome.....and scary. I believe I said at one point, "I don't think I should be doing this".
I was very afraid that I would pass out during the ECT procedure with visions of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" in my head, which is actually quite similar to what I witnessed. But it wasn't as horrific as my imagination. Its amazing how quickly the patient recovers and experiences only temporary confusion. The doctor in this case seemed a little too eager to press the ZAP button perhaps achieving a maniacal thrill from inflicting a seizure inducing electric shock to a trouble causing patient.
Not more than 20 minutes later, I was back in 1:1 land with this man with whom I shared an unforgettable experience. In between moments of me telling him to pull up his pants to cover his over sized hairy butt crack, I was thinking about how I had saved his life. Actually I didn't save it; I just sustained it. Just another day at work for so many people, but it was an experience I'll never forget. The ECT treatmet that is; I'm hoping to forget the hairy butt crack before too long.
I floated to 4th floor today. On a 1:1 who goes for ECT treatments each morning. Since he was on a 1:1, I got to accompany him for his treatment. I have worked at my job for more than 12 years and have never seen an ECT treatment so I was a little nervous. They prepped him and began the treatment. The staff were amazingly nice, patient, and explained everything they were doing to me which was more than I anticipated. The RN who was handling the case explained the use of muscle relaxers which in turn paralyzes the patient for about 5 minutes. During this time, their lungs also become paralyzed so they lose the ability to breath. During the ECT process, the nurse has to breath for the patient by way of an "ambu bag". The RN summoned me to the head of this patient, and I got to breath for him. The importance of this did not register until the RN says:
"Ever kept someone alive before?"
ME: "No".
RN: "Well, you are now."
Wow! I had the power. I was God for one small moment. Well, not really, since if I did screw up in any way, there were several people around to make it right again. Sort of like Back Up Gods. Or maybe I was the Back Up God. Either way, it was awesome.....and scary. I believe I said at one point, "I don't think I should be doing this".
I was very afraid that I would pass out during the ECT procedure with visions of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" in my head, which is actually quite similar to what I witnessed. But it wasn't as horrific as my imagination. Its amazing how quickly the patient recovers and experiences only temporary confusion. The doctor in this case seemed a little too eager to press the ZAP button perhaps achieving a maniacal thrill from inflicting a seizure inducing electric shock to a trouble causing patient.
Not more than 20 minutes later, I was back in 1:1 land with this man with whom I shared an unforgettable experience. In between moments of me telling him to pull up his pants to cover his over sized hairy butt crack, I was thinking about how I had saved his life. Actually I didn't save it; I just sustained it. Just another day at work for so many people, but it was an experience I'll never forget. The ECT treatmet that is; I'm hoping to forget the hairy butt crack before too long.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Mouth Orgasm
Today I called in sick to work. Not because I'm sick; Just because I'm sick of work. Its a beautiful day outside and I thought I'd make some effort to do something productive today that I wouldn't do otherwise. So I went grocery shopping. . .(and apparentely blogging) for the essentials. You know, cereal, milk and fruit. Lots of fruit. Cereal and fruit are my two main food staples.
While walking down the cereal aisle, I noticed really good prices on my two favorite, though banned, cereals. They are banned because, if allowed in my home, their entire contents would be devoured in one very short day. Since I eat a lot of cereal, I try to make those healthier alternatives and attempt to get some nutrition out of my bowl of deliciousness. Very seldom do I get the sugary, "kid" cereals.
As I stared at the $1.99 Lucky Charms and the $2.88 Cinnamon Toast Crunch staring back at me, I crumbled. Weakness overcame my body. My hand reached for that box of Lucky Charms only to be interrupted by my brain resulting in immediate recoil. My eyes darted from Lucky Charms to Cinnamon Toast Crunch and back to Lucky Charms again. My heart was palpitating and I felt like Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice because I refused to purchase BOTH boxes of cereal. I have never seen Sophie's Choice, but from what I have heard, that is how I felt. Only ONE box of cereal would be allowed.
Since I can sample (uh, steal) Lucky Charms at work from time to time and since there was a red blinking thing-a-ma-bob in store coupon on Cinnamon Toast Crunch, my hand went for the swirly box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It helped that the provided coupon stated it was for .75 off (hey, there is no "cents" key on the keyboard! WTF!) on the purchase of Cinnamon Toast Crunch AND a Fiber One cereal. That way, buying the Fiber One Cereal totally offset the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. A healthy cereal for a sugary one. Perfect.
Now that I am home, I must set some ground rules for having a banned cereal reside in my cupboard. I cannot eat it for breakfast, but rather only for an evening snack. Same as having a cookie. I cannot eat more than one bowl at a time....or in a day. Sadly that rule is already broken and the box has not even been in my house for more than an hour. Its a sad state of affairs.
Eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch results in one serious mouth orgasm. How can a person resist that?
While walking down the cereal aisle, I noticed really good prices on my two favorite, though banned, cereals. They are banned because, if allowed in my home, their entire contents would be devoured in one very short day. Since I eat a lot of cereal, I try to make those healthier alternatives and attempt to get some nutrition out of my bowl of deliciousness. Very seldom do I get the sugary, "kid" cereals.
As I stared at the $1.99 Lucky Charms and the $2.88 Cinnamon Toast Crunch staring back at me, I crumbled. Weakness overcame my body. My hand reached for that box of Lucky Charms only to be interrupted by my brain resulting in immediate recoil. My eyes darted from Lucky Charms to Cinnamon Toast Crunch and back to Lucky Charms again. My heart was palpitating and I felt like Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice because I refused to purchase BOTH boxes of cereal. I have never seen Sophie's Choice, but from what I have heard, that is how I felt. Only ONE box of cereal would be allowed.
Since I can sample (uh, steal) Lucky Charms at work from time to time and since there was a red blinking thing-a-ma-bob in store coupon on Cinnamon Toast Crunch, my hand went for the swirly box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It helped that the provided coupon stated it was for .75 off (hey, there is no "cents" key on the keyboard! WTF!) on the purchase of Cinnamon Toast Crunch AND a Fiber One cereal. That way, buying the Fiber One Cereal totally offset the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. A healthy cereal for a sugary one. Perfect.
Now that I am home, I must set some ground rules for having a banned cereal reside in my cupboard. I cannot eat it for breakfast, but rather only for an evening snack. Same as having a cookie. I cannot eat more than one bowl at a time....or in a day. Sadly that rule is already broken and the box has not even been in my house for more than an hour. Its a sad state of affairs.
Eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch results in one serious mouth orgasm. How can a person resist that?
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