"What would you take........?"

When we were kids, we went to Florida every year for a couple of weeks to visit our relatives there. We stayed with my mother’s sister, Roberta and her husband, Cecil. It was always so much fun spending time with cousins that you only saw once a year. By the time we got to know each other again, we had to go home.

Aunt Roberta had been married before. She married Clifford when she was very young. They had five kids: Annette, Nancy, Billy, Tim and Becky. Uncle Clifford passed away when the kids were still pretty young. Later she met and married Uncle Cecil and they had a little boy, Bobby.

I don’t think there was anything that Aunt Roberta couldn’t drive. We all piled into their panel truck and went to the beach, to the lake and even the drive-in movie. A panel truck was like one of those PT Cruisers you see now, only bigger, like a mini-van with no windows in the back. At least that’s what I remember.

Aunt Roberta had orange trees in her yard. I also remember she had a watermelon and cantaloupe patch. Of course, you had to be careful of the sand spurs. We were always barefooted. I have stepped on many sand spurs.

I liked to sweep Aunt Roberta’s walkway. I was always asking her if she had something for me to do. She started finding things for me to do, but she would always say, “What would you take to.......?” instead of just telling me some things I could do. Sometimes it was sweeping the porch or picking up the oranges that fell on the ground. I was always eager to help her.

My mother had two brothers and two sisters. Uncle Edward was the oldest. He was born in North Dakota. Then the family moved to Florida where Aunt Roberta, Aunt Blanche, my mother, Shirley, and Uncle Bill were born. I never knew Aunt Blanche. She was killed by a hit and run driver when she was 21 or so. My mother was only 18. She and Aunt Blanche had been very close.

In the 1970's my two uncles passed away. Aunt Roberta and Cecil had moved into a house that he built, not far from her house that we used to come to. Their kids were all married now.

After Uncle Cecil passed away, Aunt Roberta remained in their house and lived alone, taking care of herself. My cousins, Annette, Tim and Bobby lived within walking distance and Nancy and Billy were not that far away, so they were always calling to check on her and stopping by. They really took good care of her.

Once when I was there, we walked out to look at some plants in the yard and didn't hear the phone. Pretty soon Annette came driving up. She had tried to call and got no answer, so she got in her car and came to see.

Mom (83) and Aunt Roberta (87)
2003

Aunt Roberta and my mother were close. Since both were widowed, they spent time together on cruises and other trips and visited each other when they could. They got along well, at least until they talked politics. Then it could get a little heated.

When Roberta and Shirley were younger, they didn’t really look alike to me. As they got older, I noticed that they had some of the same mannerisms...and they were looking more and more like each other.

When my mom passed away in 2005, Aunt Roberta came to the funeral, of course. She was getting a little feeble, but for her age at the time, 88, she really looked well. I decided at that point that I would make an effort to try to get to Florida and visit her more often. I knew she would not always be there.

Aunt Roberta's 90th birthday party, April 2006
with her kids
(back) Tim, Becky, Billy, Bobby
(front) Annette, Aunt Roberta, Nancy

In May 2007, I took a trip to Florida to spend a few days with Aunt Roberta. We talked and talked. She told me stories about the family which I had never heard before. I asked her questions about my grandparents, great grandparents, family I had never met in North Dakota, etc. She had pictures to show me. It was so much fun just spending time with her. We watched our favorite soap opera, “The Young and Restless”, together and talked about it like the people were real.

As long as I could remember, she’d had some chickens living around the yard. This time she had the prettiest rooster. I went out and followed him trying to get pictures. He had a couple of little bantam hens following him around.

That pretty rooster

She and my cousins, who were retired too, got together for lunch and/or shopping every Tuesday. They called that their “day off”. I thought that was so funny. Well, I got to spend one of their “days off” with them. We went down to my cousins’, Becky and Bill, in Daytona Beach. We went to lunch and then went shopping at a really nice mall. I still have the little wooden “chocolate” rabbit I bought on sale there. We all bought one I think.

Aunt Roberta's house

Sometime after my visit, Aunt Roberta was in bed one night. It was raining and the wind was blowing. Something fell on the back of the house. There was a huge oak tree at the back corner. One of the limbs had broken and fell on the roof. The electricity was out.

Aunt Roberta, at least 90, got her clothes on, grabbed her flashlight and walked to Tim’s back porch, about a 1/4 mile away. She sat on his porch without waking anyone, until Tim got up and came out to sit on the porch with his coffee. I just thought that was incredible when I heard about it. I probably would have been beating on the door.......let me in! But, she sat quietly, by herself and waited.

Aunt Roberta and I
July 2009

My brothers and sisters also went to visit Aunt Roberta and our cousins as often as they could.

Charlie and I were able to spend a few days visiting with them in July 2009. We’re so happy that we had that time with her. She had slowed quite a bit, but then again, she was 93, so we weren’t surprised at that.

She had been in the hospital earlier that year with pneumonia. Afterward she had stayed with Bobby for a week or two and then insisted that she go home. They didn’t want her to, but they knew she would be unhappy if she wasn’t in her own home, around her own things. So, they just kept a close eye on her and she was happy.

About four months later, on November 28, 2009, a year ago, my Aunt Roberta passed away. A few days earlier, on the 21st, I received a call from my cousin, Annette, who said that Aunt Roberta was not feeling well and was not eating. When they took her to the hospital, tests were run and it was discovered that she had liver cancer. She went into Hospice and passed away just days later.

I’m sure she never complained to anyone, even though she may have sensed that she was very ill. She lived the way she wanted and her kids respected that. She was not a burden on anyone.

When my brother went to see her in Hospice, just days before she passed, he was talking to her and she was apologizing to him that she wasn’t able to do anything. She always offered something to eat, or something to drink.......“What can I get for you?”

We all miss her and it will not be the same when we go back to visit. But, thank goodness we have the memories of those days.

More later........

Happy Thanksgiving

In Monterey, CA

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and it’s my favorite holiday.

Charlie and I had our first Thanksgiving together in 1988. We were living in Monterey, California. Charlie was going to the Naval Postgraduate School then.

I think that was the first time I had ever roasted a turkey. I even made a pumpkin pie from scratch. I was pretty ambitious back then. Of course, I was probably trying to impress someone too.

In those two years in Monterey we spent two Thanksgivings and two Christmases together. It was a magical time. Of all the places we’ve lived, I enjoyed Monterey the most.

Thanksgivings in PA 1991

We moved to Pennsylvania from Monterey and were there for three years. We were closer to family, so we spent more holidays with them. A few years later, we lived in Virginia for two years and again saw our families more often on holidays.

This Thanksgiving we are at home. I will be roasting a turkey, of course. But, I will not be making a pumpkin pie from scratch. For the last several years, my pies have come from either Mrs. Smith’s or Costco.

This year our friends, Patti and Bob, from Palm Springs, are coming to dinner. We’re thankful for having good friends who want to spend time with us.

I think back on Thanksgivings when I was growing up. When we were all young and at home, it would have made a perfect picture for a Norman Rockwell calendar. Well, maybe not PERFECT, but Mom, Pop and all of us kids were sitting around the dinner table. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures, but I’m sure it’s in my brothers’ and sisters’ memories, as it is in mine. These are the times that you never forget.

As we got older and left home, we sometimes made it back for Thanksgiving and other holidays, but not always. It became a rare occasion to have everyone together in one place, with our extended families.

I am so thankful to have the memories of the traditions that I was raised with. I still prepare the same dishes that I remember having as a child. The only thing I have added since I met Charlie is the “green bean casserole”. Our traditional meal with the turkey was dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, asparagus, corn, cranberry sauce, candied yams, and rolls, but no green bean casserole. (Of course, I don’t think that was “invented” when I was a kid).

We have had some personal tragedies this year. We don’t have kids, but we have our pets who we love dearly. We’ve lost two of them this year. Both were unexpected, but one, Grady, was so sudden that we didn’t have time to prepare. Not that you’re ever ready. We did have a little warning with Taz, but after going through an illness that couldn’t be cured, he was also taken from us. We knew it was inevitable, but we weren’t quite ready to say good bye to him.

I’m very thankful for having a husband who has been tolerant of me. I feel like I have pushed him to the limit sometimes. If it wasn’t for the fact that he loves our pets as much as I do, I don’t think he would have wanted to get a cat when we lived in Monterey:

• So.... we went to the shelter and found Rowdy.
• Then when Calvin started living on our patio....we adopted him.

Calvin and Rowdy in Monterey, CA

• Then in Pennsylvania, we started talking about getting a dog......we got Chelsi.
• And because Rowdy and Calvin were getting older, we wanted a kitten. That was when we
found Taz at the shelter in California.
• I brought Jezibel home because she was homeless. We adopted her and she had nine kittens.....five of which we kept.
• Then there was Mo, a stray, who needed to come in from the cold.
• The twins, Jason and Kaci......
• And of course, Sheila.
• Then came Debby and her kittens. We still have Debby.

Charlie has a big heart and he accepted all of these little creatures. Okay, in some cases I had to really use persuasion and talked him into it, but he knew they needed us as much as we needed them, and he finally agreed.

He has never judged me and it’s as innocent as that. No matter what problems we've had with our pets, i.e. tearing things up, inappropriate litter box use, etc., he has never said to me that we shouldn’t have ever gotten any of these pets. They are ours and we will always be responsible for taking care of them.

When Taz was diagnosed with lymphoma, we knew we were possibly looking at a huge medical bill, but we committed ourselves to it. Charlie said “In for a penny, in for a pound”. We stayed with him until the end.

We both love Taz and wanted to do whatever we could for him. We just hoped that he would be with us longer, but it wasn’t meant to be. I’m thankful to have had him for almost 12 years. I still think of him every day and I miss him terribly. He was my constant companion so it’s very hard for me still.

But, we’re thankful to have had all of the pets in our life together. We no longer have Rowdy, Calvin, Chelsi, Mo, Grady, and Taz. They were all very special and will always be with us. They live through pictures and tapes that we have. We are enjoying the ones who are still with us.

We are also very thankful to have such a wonderful family and good friends to be with.

As we give our thanks this Thanksgiving, we wish everyone who is reading this, a very Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving too.

More later............

Mommy...don't take yourself so seriously.........

Kaci.......really?

Jason.......doesn't know how to relax

Taz.....relaxing in his favorite bankie

So I’m at the 32nd Street Naval Base today. I went into the Exchange Garden Shop to see if I could find a bird feeder to hang up outside the family room. We had a bird feeder there that Charlie gave me a few years ago. It was the coolest one I’d ever seen. It had little lights that lit up at night, solar powered. But, best of all, it had feeding stations that the birds could get to, but they couldn’t just flit the food all over the place. It fell several times and, unfortunately, this last time, it broke. He had gotten it at the Exchange.

Long story short, they didn’t have any bird feeders that resembled what I wanted. So, after my leisure time of shopping for what I really wanted was over, I went to work, shopping at the Commissary for Thanksgiving dinner.

It is a huge Commissary Store. In fact, it is the U.S. military's largest commissary. And it was very crowded. I don’t mind crowded, but I do mind stupid. Some of these people who shop there act like they have never been in a store before. Put a shopping cart in their hands and they are downright dangerous. You wouldn’t believe how many of them push their carts down the left side of the aisle. HELLO, do you freaking drive on that side of the road? Maybe, but you won’t live long. And today, if I’d had my way, you wouldn’t live long either.

Charlie and I have gone to the commissary before and usually he drives our cart. We see the same kind of stupid crap. He knows what they do to me. These people are unreal. I can’t believe his patience. I don’t say anything. He knows what I’m thinking. He’s thinking the same thing. But, he waits for “Ethel” to pick her freaking spices while her cart is blocking everyone coming down the aisle. She’s unconscious! Unaware that anyone else is in the store shopping. Really?

I was doing fine, pushing my cart, waiting for people, etc. I always go down the right side of the aisle. But, there are some who push along the left side, so you have carts coming right at you, head on and then just a small space to get through two carts on either side of the aisle. Then when they are all stopped, you have to wait until you can get by. I get that. I’ve done it hundreds of times. It’s the commissary life.

In some of the stores we’ve been in, they actually have arrows down the right side of the aisles. Of course it doesn’t do any good, but I thought I’d mention it.

Well, somewhere in the middle of store, not sure which aisle, I came upon idiot City. I’m on the right side of the aisle, cautiously pushing along, watching everyone. There was a woman, on her cell phone talking to someone and she had about 3 kids, running all over, picking up stuff from the shelves. She was saying “Do we need this, do we need that, etc.” and she was with her cart in front of me. Well that didn’t bother me, although I noticed it. But then there were two carts on the left of aisle coming towards me. Then a guy with a bright yellow shirt had his cart CROSS WISE of the aisle, blocking everyone on either side. He freaking didn’t know which side of the aisle he wanted to shop on. He was wild eyed, looking for something on both sides of the aisle. Did his wife really send him out alone?

There were about three people behind me. I turned to see if the guy behind me was seeing what I was seeing. His eyes were glazed over. I thought “He’s been in here too long” so I said something like “Excuse me, can we get through here?” I swear it was like Night of the Living Dead in there.

But, the woman with the kids, who I wasn't even talking to, kind of moved her cart and said “It’s crowded in here so you should show some patience”.

I looked at her and said “Excuse me, are you talking to me?.... Are you talking to ME? Do I know you? You don’t KNOW how much patience I have. I think I can see how crowded it is in here! Besides, I wasn’t EVEN talking to YOU. This is NONE of your freaking business, lady. Don't you see this guy who has his freaking cart CROSSWISE in the aisle and NO ONE can get by? HELLO?"

Well, actually, what I REALLY said was “I have patience,Ma'am” (I hate being called "Ma'am" myself) and she said “Well you’re not showing it,” and I said “Well, you’re not showing any courtesy,” and I pushed on, but I heard her gasp “Wow”, like, 'well, I never!' I guess she thought she was being COURTEOUS to me by butting in and talking to me like one of her kids, telling me that I had a nerve to say “excuse me” while I tried to get through "Crazy Town" at the commissary. It was none of her business and I wasn’t even talking to her in the first place.

Of course, this would have been a different scene if Charlie had been with me and pushing the cart. We would have waited “patiently” without saying anything, but I would be boiling inside at the stupidity of these people.

On the way home, I thought about what I could have said to that woman when she tried to lecture me about patience. Actually no one nearby even acknowledged our exchange. She was the only one who had any life to her I think. Maybe we both could have yelled at each other and got our frustrations out and no one would have noticed, but then again I might have wound up in the security office with them calling Charlie: “Captain Bell, you wife is out of control (again) at the 32nd Street Commissary. Can you come down and settle her down?”

I came out of it unscathed though. Before I got home, I stopped at Von’s grocery store for a couple of things I had forgotten or they didn't have, and for a bottle of wine, which I couldn’t buy at the commissary. I think there’s a good reason for that. It was good to see that they push their carts on the RIGHT side of the aisle at Vons.

More later..............

You can't own a cat. The best you can do is be partners.

On May 11, 2009 I received a call from a friend who is a building inspector with the City. He said that he was at a construction site and they had seen a kitten under the construction office trailer. I told him I’d be there in a few minutes.

When I got there, the construction crew said that two kittens had fallen out, but the mother cat had come down and carried both of them back up into the insulation under the trailer. I waited for a few minutes, but there were no cats. I left and told them to call me if the kittens came back.

I had just about gotten home when I received a call from the inspector. There were two kittens on the ground under the trailer now. I told him that I would go home and get a kennel and come back.

When I got back to the site, the guys had scooped up the kittens in a box and were holding them for me. The mother cat was nearby. She was a little, long haired solid black cat. The kittens, one striped with white paws and the other black, long haired, with white paws, looked to be about 4 weeks old. They were not afraid or feral yet. Their mother, however, was not going to have anything to do with any of us.

It was about 3:00 in the afternoon. I took the kittens and put them in the kennel I brought. I thought that maybe I could tempt the mother cat to come and be with the kittens. She was too smart for that. I left the kennel with the kittens on the parking lot near the trailer. The mother went around in circles, but wouldn’t come near the kittens. I put treats down. She came up and picked up the treats, but wouldn’t come near me. The guys were going to lock up and leave soon.

I opened the kennel and hoped that the mother cat would come over to the kittens. The kittens saw her and started coming out of the kennel. They started running over to their mother, who was under the trailer. I had to catch them and put them back into the kennel. Then I put the kennel in the back of my SUV. I went over to the steps of the trailer to watch, hoping that the mother would get in and maybe I could get back to the car and close the doors before she got out. She did jump up there and “talk” to her kittens, but of course, when I moved toward the car, she jumped down.

It was getting close to 5:00pm and I felt like I should try to get the kittens home and feed them. It had been two or three hours since I had come over. I hated to leave the mother cat there in the parking lot, but I knew I would try to come back for her. When I drove off, I could see her in my rearview mirror. I just hoped she would stick around long enough for me to catch her.

I took the kittens home and kept them in the RV for the night. I planned to take them to the vet the next day and make sure they were okay to be with our other cats in the garage. I didn’t know if they were weaned yet, so I got some kitten formula and bottles for feeding. The kittens were very hungry and they drank the milk from the bottle after a little coaxing. But, they also had a tendency to chew, so I knew they were near weaning.

The next day I mixed some wet food with the formula and the kittens were pretty messy, but they slurped up as much as they wanted. Their mom had been weaning them probably when they fell out of the insulation of the construction trailer.

I took them to the vet for checkups. They checked out fine. We fixed up a cage and pen for them in the garage. With some coaxing, they were both eating formula with wet cat food. I named the striped male, “Marquis” and the black female, “Monet”. They had been found in the construction site of the “Marquis” and “Monet” development. I know, how original.

Marquis and Monet about 4 weeks old

I went back over to the construction trailer that afternoon. The guys said they had not seen the mother cat. I had brought some food and water. I set it under the trailer. I stayed there until they closed up and left. I was parked in the parking lot. When I started thinking that she wouldn’t come, I saw her coming along the parking lot and under the trailer. She went over to the food and ate. After she ate, she sat and “called” the kittens. It was pitiful. I got out of my car and walked toward her, but then she moved away from the food. There was just no way I was going to get her to come to me.

Now it became a challenge. I felt like I had to catch her, hopefully before I found homes for her kittens. I wanted her to be able to see the kittens again so she’d know that I didn’t just take them from her when I drove away with them that day. I decided that her name would be “Debby”.

So, I had to leave “Debby” there that night. I went home and decided that I would try to borrow a trap from the animal shelter. I called the next day, but there were no traps available. I went online and discovered that I could buy one. I ordered it and hoped I would get it before Debby decided that she had no reason to come back to the trailer.

I went to the trailer every night and put the food out and waited. I soon discovered that Debby came to the trailer every evening at 7:30pm. I still didn’t have my trap though.

Sometimes when she didn’t show up at 7:30, I drove around the block and came back through the parking lot. Then she would be there. One night when I was waiting for her a gray tabby came through the parking lot. He had white paws and I think he was “Marquis’” dad.

In the meantime, the kittens were growing and playing and we were really enjoying them. But, I wanted to bring Debby to see them before they had to leave.

My trap finally arrived on the 21st, 10 days after I found the kittens. At a little after 6:00pm I took the trap out to the trailer and set it up. Debby still had not come at 7:30 as she usually did. Then 8:00 and it was getting dark. I went to start the car and drive around the block like I did, and the car wouldn’t start. It sounded like a dead battery, clicks and nothing else. I called Charlie to come and help me. I figured it would take the Auto Club longer to get out there. It was dark by now. While I was on the phone with Charlie, the “daddy” cat came by. He took one look at the trap and kept going. I was afraid he would go in and I didn’t really want to catch him that night.

After awhile Charlie drove up. It was about 9:00 or so. He got out and went to the back of his car to get the cables out. While he was doing that, I decided to try to start the car. It started! I got out of the car to go and tell him to never mind the cables and here comes Debby under the trailer! I told Charlie to back up and we’d leave to see if she’d come to the trap. I pulled up to the end of the street and Charlie went over to park by the models. Then I as I was backing back to the trailer, I heard the trap spring. I ran over to the trap and saw that Debby was in it. I quickly put the trap in my car and drove over to where Charlie was. I said “I got her!” and he gave a thumbs up. I’m sure he was glad that my night ‘raids’ were over.

Debby spent the night in her kennel in the RV. I took her to the vet the next day. She needed to be tested for feline leukemia before I could bring her into the garage. I wanted to have her spayed, but they said it would be six weeks before they could do that. But, since they had to sedate her to get blood, they decided they would go ahead and spay her. She was negative for feline leukemia and her kittens were also negative.

Debby in her "4x4"
Her kittens were so small, they just came through the wire

We set up a 4x4x6 kennel for her in the garage. When I brought her home from the vet, she settled in there. We let her kittens go in with her. She knew them and seemed to be relieved to see them, licking them and meowing at them. They played all around and on top of her and she had so much patience.

Debby let me pet her, but having the kittens near was helpful. I still didn’t know if she would scratch me, so I usually held one of the kittens up for her to distract her when I wanted to pet her. I bought a little stuffed black and white cat and started using that as a buffer in case she struck at me. But, she never really tried to strike me.

I found good homes for Debby’s kittens when they turned 8 weeks old. Marquis is now “Marcus” and belongs to one of my walking buddies. Monet is now “Thumbelina”. She belongs to a family who uses the same vet as we do. They saw the picture of the kittens on the bulletin board at the vet’s office where I had posted them.

Marcus and Oreo

I still get the chance to babysit with “Marcus” and his brother “Oreo” when I’m needed. He has grown into a handsome young fellow. I haven’t seen “Thumbelina” again, but I have had some updated pictures of her.

Thumbelina

We are now leaving the door to Debby’s kennel open most of the time. She comes out into the garage, but is still shy and will run back to the safety of her cat tree in the kennel. But, we’re hoping that when she gets more used to being out and seeing us more, she will not be so afraid. She loves being petted though and I’m working on trying to pick her up. She is still not much into that though. We’ve had her a year and half now and I’m sure it will take awhile longer to get her trust. She does like the other cats and we’ve had no problems with that. In fact, she likes Mr. Creme and comes over to him when he gets near her kennel. We call him “her boyfriend”.

More later........

There are some simple truths.....

and the dogs know what they are.
--Joseph Duemer

I was watching an episode of “Hoarders” tonight. I can only watch it once in awhile, because it just drives me crazy to see people pile up “junk” and then not be able to part with it. I mean, some of them have stuff that is piled up almost to the ceiling. They can’t use their kitchen, bathroom, livingroom and their bed may just be a little portion to sleep on. Some of these people are actually functioning, working people. I wonder how they can live in a house full of “junk” and still get up, get ready for work each day and go in to work.

I have my own issues as far as “hoarding”. It’s not the same as the TV show, but I can’t seem to let go of any of our pet’s belongings. We still have collars, toys, etc. for just about every pet we’ve had. I’ve still got a leash from “Brandy”, a dog I had years and years ago, and a collar from “Sparky”, a cat I had before I met Charlie. When I look at these “mementoes”, I can picture the pet they belong to, after all these years.

I know it’s crazy to some people, but to me it reminds me of the cat or dog who once wore the collar or ate from the bowl, or even used the litter box.

In a box, we have collars with their name tags for Rowdy, Calvin, and Chelsi. When we got Sheila, we didn’t have a collar for her, so we put Chelsi’s old collar on her until we could get a new one for her. One day she was very afraid and when we tried to hold her from running, she pulled and broke Chelsi’s collar. I have it in a box.

All of the cats have their own collars, which we call their “dresses”. Sometimes the collars have been lost in the yard and when we couldn’t find them, we replaced them. There have been times when a collar is lost and then that cat gets to wear a collar that doesn’t belong to him, until we can get him a new one. For instance, we’ve lost Jezibel’s collar. I’m not sure if we put it somewhere and can’t find it or it came off in the yard somewhere. Anyway, she has been wearing Ellie’s “dress” when she goes out, until we can get a new collar and tag for her.

When Grady suddenly died last February, for months I left his bed just the way it was when he died in it. His collar or “dress” was hanging on the hook by the door. No one was allowed to wear it because I was afraid that it might come off in the yard and get lost. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it. It still hangs there.

Then Taz died in October and his “dress” hangs there. No one will ever be allowed to wear it. Eventually when I feel like I can, I will take Grady and Taz’s “dress” from the hooks and put them in a box. For now, I can’t move them.

Taz’s “room” is still as it was when he and I were sleeping there. We have taken his litter box out, but his table, which his little bed was on by the window, is still there. We took his food and water dish out and will probably take the table out next week. It’s hard though. Charlie feels the same, so it’s not just me.

I’ve seen movies where people lose children and leave their rooms just as they were before they died. I don’t remember being judgmental about it, but there was a time when I probably didn’t understand why they would do that. Now I understand. It’s hard to move on.

I am reading a book about coping with pet loss. I have never bought books like this before, but losing Taz was somehow different from any other loss I’ve experienced with a pet. I have taken this harder and I still have such a sadness when I think of him not being here. I miss him so much. I’m so lonely for him. The other cats are here and I love them and they love me. We just don’t have the same relationship that I had with Taz.

Taz was like a real person to me. He always looked into my eyes; he was always near me; when I stirred during the night, he was there; I lifted my head, he came up on my chest to have his head and face rubbed; he licked my hand and I “washed” his head with the palm of my hand; when I called his name he always came. When he wasn’t sitting near me, I knew he was not far away; I could always look around and he was watching me, never far away. When you have a presence like that for 11 years, whether it's a person or a pet, it’s hard to lose and I miss him terribly.

So, when I was watching the “Hoarders” show tonight, I started thinking of how I can kind of understand how these people keep things because they don’t want to lose those items that mean so much to them. But, at the same time, I get very impatient with the people who are trying to help them get rid of all of that “junk” they’ve collected. They let them hold on to trash, i.e. paper cups, empty boxes, etc. To me, it all looks like crap that needs to go.

I'm sure one day, someone will look at my cat and dog collars and wonder why I kept that “junk” and they’ll never know the stories behind them. But, hopefully, by that time, I’ll be somewhere where I won’t need the collars........I’ll have the real things....at least I hope so.

More later.........

To a cat, the world is his litter box......

Toby with very strong legs
at Brian's, about 6 months old

As Jezibel’s babies got older, we noticed that two of the ones we have, Ellie and Toby, seemed to have wobbly back legs. Sometimes they stumbled when they were trying to run or walk fast. Grady also had a little weakness in his back legs, but not as bad as Ellie and Toby.

Ellie (top) and Toby just 3 years old
in Virginia
No leg problems yet

We took Ellie and Toby to the vet to see if it was a physical problem that we could help. They could find nothing on examination. Toby was pretty big.....17 pounds, and we thought maybe if he lost some weight, it would help. We tried changing his food and giving less of it, etc., but he only seemed to get bigger.

Toby didn’t walk much because of his legs. Ellie is small and though she has weak legs, she still got around. She can’t jump up on anything that is higher than a foot or so though.

Two years ago, because Toby’s legs got to the point that they just gave out on him, we decided to take him to a neurologist at VSH to see if there was anything that could be done for the problem.

He was examined and basically we were told that since Ellie and Grady had the same weakness, it was most likely genetic. We could spend thousands of dollars in tests, etc., but in the end, since it was a nerve disorder, most likely there would not be a cure for it. We asked the doctor if they could do a study on Toby and Ellie and maybe then could find a cure or it would help further their research in neurological problems in animals. But, the doctor said they had no funding to do that, although he would have liked to.

Jezibel does not have a problem with her legs. Neither do Mr. Creme or Lexi. Their brother, Panda is fine too. However, the other brother, Pinto, is showing weakness in his back legs now, although not as debilitating as Toby. I hope Pinto and Ellie don’t get any worse.

Because our other cats have never accepted Toby and Mr. Creme, they sleep in the garage. We found out the hard way that Mr. Creme had a “spraying problem”. After that, he got banned to the garage. Toby was happy to go with him rather than stay in the house with the other cats, who hated him.

We let the “beach boys” out into the backyard during the day, unless we are not here. Then they stay in the garage. They have their food and water and a litter box, which they both use.........

........But, last year we took a month long trip. When we came home, the pet sitter told us that Toby was not using the litter box at all. He was wetting the rug that was on the garage floor. It was ruined, so, we rolled it up and threw it away. We knew we had to confine Toby to one area and try to train him to use the bathroom in that area.

First we set up a little fenced-in area for him which had his bed and food and water on one side and an open box with a puppy pad in it for his “litter box”. His problem was, he couldn’t stand up long enough to pee because his legs wouldn’t hold him. I watched him in the yard one time and saw that he was doing the best he could. He did pretty well for awhile and used the puppy pad. So, I just had to keep a clean pad down for him at night. He was in the yard during the day.

But, then he started wetting outside the box in his pen. So, we bought a 4'x4'x6' dog kennel and set that up for him to stay in when he was in the garage at night. That seemed to work better for him and he started using the pads again.

We put him out in the morning. He walks around to the back of the house to the patio. There is a bed for him there under the glider. During the day we go out and get him from his bed, take him back around to the garage side door and feed him a little. He then walks back around to his patio bed. That is the only way we can exercise his legs. By walking around the house a few times a day, at least he’s moving. He also uses does “his business” while he’s in the yard. He has never wet his bed on the patio, unlike the one in the garage before. His legs do seem to have gotten stronger and he has lost about a pound, down to 16 pounds now. Otherwise, he’s normal. He’s a happy, loving fellow and wants lots of attention. We just think of him as our “special needs” child.

He was scratching his left ear last week. When we rubbed inside the ear with a tissue, it was pretty dirty. We thought he might have ear mites so we took him to the vet. He did have a little infection, so we got ear drops for the ear. It’s all better now.

Sometimes he comes to the patio door and wants in. We let him in, give him some food and he likes to sit with his dad or me and get brushed. Finally he settles down and goes to sleep. Sometimes we take him out to his bed if it’s time, but usually when he’s ready to go to bed, he goes to the garage door. For a cat with very weak legs, he can really move along. He has to take some steps, sit down, then get up and take more steps. He’s walking further between stops now. We just have to keep him up and moving. Otherwise, he’d lay on his patio bed all day and not move at all. We want his life to be as normal as it can be, despite what Charlie lovingly calls, “his affliction”.

Mr. Creme and Toby right after their 1st birthday
Still at our house

Toby and Mr. Creme were raised together and they still get along well. Sometimes Mr. Creme comes to the patio door. If Toby is nearby, he comes over to Mr. Creme and starts biting him on his neck and pulling on him. Brian used to call them “the lovers”, so I assume they always wrestled around like that. At least Toby still loves his brother!

More later.......

No matter how much cats fight.........

...there always seems to be plenty of kittens.

-Abraham Lincoln

Toby (L) and Mr. Creme (R) almost 8 weeks old

In March of 2000, Jezibel had her seven babies; five boys (Toby, Mr. Creme, Grady, Pinto and Panda) and two girls (Lexi and Ellie). We found good homes for four of the boys. Brian took Mr. Creme and Toby; Kim took Pinto, and Minerva took Panda. We kept Lexi, Ellie and Grady.

Everyone picked up their kitten(s) when they were 8 weeks old. All who adopted a kitten were co-workers. I had regular “reports” on how they were doing.

One day Brian told me that the house he was renting, was up for sale and he would have to move. He asked if I would be willing to take the kittens until he could find a place to live. He was going to have to move in with his parents until then. I had always told him that I would take the kittens if he needed help, rather than have them go to the shelter.

He delivered Mr. Creme and Toby to me when they were about 9 months old. I kept them away from our other cats for several weeks. Brian had not had them declawed, so they tore at the carpet by the door, trying to get out of the room.

Finally, I decided to let them out and introduce them to the other cats. These two were so mellow. Brian had really done a good job raising them. There were some tense moments when the cats all ganged up on the newcomers. No matter that they were sons or brothers. But, they did settle in and we really didn’t have any more problems. We called Mr. Creme and Toby “The Beach Boys”, because Brian lived in Pacific Beach.

Charlie was back on the east coast going to school during this time. The kittens had their first birthday party on March 22, 2001. Minerva brought Panda, Kim brought Pinto, and Brian’s cats, Mr. Creme and Toby, were already here. Everyone had a nice time. Of course, we ate the cake, but it did have their names on it.

In May 2001, I was going back to visit with Charlie over the Memorial Day weekend. Brian had found a house to rent in Imperial Beach, but he had not said anything to me about getting the cats back. So, one day I told him I was going out of town and if he wanted the cats back, he would have to get them before I left. Otherwise, he’d have to wait until I returned. He decided to come and get them. Maybe he thought I was pressuring him to get the cats, but I wasn’t. They were fine with me and no problem. I just assumed he wanted them and maybe felt he couldn’t ask for them.

When he arrived, he came in and sat down on the floor. Mr. Creme and Toby were on the stairs. They didn’t know him, but we got them to come down. He spent a few minutes with them and then it was time to go. I helped him take them out. He didn’t have a carrier. They were just loose in the car and they were very agitated. I kept asking if he wanted to borrow one of our kennels. He said they were fine. He always carried them like this.

Brian always knew that the first thing I would say to him was “How are the boys?” so when he came in the office he would always say “The boys are fine”, before I could say anything to him. But, they were not allowed in the house he had rented. They stayed on an enclosed patio. Before, they had been raised in the house with Brian and his son. The pictures he showed were of typical, spoiled, lazy cats.

We moved to Virginia in August, 2002. I kept in touch with all of my friends here, and of course with Brian, since he had two of Jezibel’s babies. In October or November, he emailed me that he was moving to Hawaii and said he was trying to find a home for “the boys”. I was concerned, but I told him I hoped he could keep them together if he could. We went back and forth and finally he said that he really didn’t think he would be able to find a home for them before he left. He asked if I would like to have them back.

It just so happened that Charlie and I were planning on coming to San Diego in early December. Charlie had meetings and I was coming along. So, after Charlie agreed, I told Brian to please get the boys up on their shots, etc. and also I’d like to have them declawed before bringing them home with us. He set the appointment up and delivered them to the vet and got that taken care of.

We came out to San Diego and were here for a week. Then, on Sunday, it was time to pick up the boys and go to the airport. We had not seen Mr. Creme and Toby since Brian picked them up at our house that day.

When we got to Brian’s house, he was not there, but his front door was open. He was moving out so the house was empty. I had talked to him earlier and he said to just go in and he would be there soon. We went through the house and out to the back patio, which was enclosed. There were the boys. They were so pretty and friendly. Just dying for attention. We spent some time with them and then heard Brian come in. We talked for a few minutes and then put the boys in the kennel in which they would fly to Virginia. They would still be “The Beach Boys” because we were bringing them to Virginia Beach. Brian would be off to Hawaii the next day.

I could tell he was upset and he really loved those cats. But, he was flip and joked and I think he probably was keeping the sadness inside. I know he took good care of those cats. They wouldn’t have been so sweet and friendly otherwise. He and his son did a good job of caring for them and I’ll always be grateful to him because he cared enough about them to give us a chance to take them back, rather than take them to the animal shelter or let them loose like some people do.

I don’t know where Brian is and haven’t been in touch with him since we took the boys back to Virginia with us. Hindsight is 20/20. If I had it to do over, I would not have told him that he had to come and pick up the cats when I was going on my trip. I’m sure he would not have asked to have the cats back. He knew they would have to spend their time on the patio and not in the house with him and he didn’t really want that. But, he didn’t tell me that and since I would have been dying to get one of my cats back, I thought that’s how he felt too.

Charlie's brother, Jeff, playing with cats in Virginia

Grady, Mr. Creme, & Toby

Things weren’t the same this time when Mr. Creme and Toby were introduced to our other “little angels”. They did not like "the Beach Boys" and they never were accepted like they’d been when they were younger and with us before. More later...........

Old Blue

I hope I’m not losing the ones who started reading Taz’s blog back in July.........I’ve tried to write about other things. Taz is still on my mind quite a bit and I’ll continue to write about him. It’s been a month now since he’s been with me.

On Monday, we hired a paint contractor to come in and paint three rooms for us. These rooms, the front room (living room), dining room, and master bedroom have very high ceilings and if it were not for that, I would be up there painting them. Since I love to paint, I have been painting the rooms in our house, but I’ve saved these rooms for last because I couldn’t figure out how I was going to paint them. The other day Charlie and I tried to set up a way that we could get up to the top of the high wall with a ladder and then both of us looked at it and said “We’ll fall, and if not us, we’ll drop the paint”, so we decided to call a contractor and hire someone just to paint. We’ll buy the paint, etc.

I took Sheila out for a walk this morning. We go to a park that is called “Open Space—Rice Canyon”. There is a small parking lot and then a dirt road that winds down through a canyon. On each side of the “canyon wall” are homes. So as you walk through the canyon you can look up and see the back yard of homes there.

I was walking with Sheila one afternoon at 2:00 and looked up and saw a coyote walking along the back fence of one of the homes there. Of course, the first thing I thought was ‘If I had a cat or a small dog, there would be no way that either one would be out in my back yard!’ But, then people still let their cats and small dogs out at night and of course, the coyotes will get them.

None of the houses there have SOLID wood fences which would keep coyotes out if they were high enough. No, they all have to abide by the wonderful Home Owners’ Association (HOA) and so the fences are wrought iron and in the instance I saw, the fence was probably four feet high. Not really a problem for a coyote to jump if he saw a plump little cat or dog on the other side. I’ve lived in California long enough to know that if you let your cat or little dog out at night and it doesn’t come home, chances are, it won’t. The coyotes need to eat too. It is what it is.

When I was out with Sheila this morning, I started really watching her as she walked along. She is a cattle dog. They have darting eyes. They don’t miss any movements. She walks along and looks from side to side, back to her left and back to her right. Always looking. I’ve finally figured it out. She does not like to have anything behind her. She’s a herder. Things have to be in front of her. Charlie and I were trying to get her to stop looking behind her all the time as we walked along.

This morning I realized that she’s working when we go walking. Her charges should never be behind her. They should always be IN FRONT of her so she can see them and keep an eye on them and protect them. She’s responsible for them.

We called her “paranoid” because when she saw someone coming up behind, she would stop and no matter how we tried, she would not move along. When the person got in front, she was fine. The other morning, I was walking with her and a girl was running on the road behind us. Sheila stopped and refused to move. It made the girl nervous, so she stopped. I said “Come on by, she just doesn’t like someone behind her”. After the girl came by, Sheila was fine.

When we got Sheila, she was described as an Australian Cattle Dog by the shelter. We bought a DNA kit from PetSmart for $60. We swabbed her cheeks and sent it in. The report came back that her strongest ancestry was: Border Collie and Australian Shepherd.

The Border Collie part of her is “outgoing, friendly and affectionate with those with whom they are familiar” She is reserved with strangers. She is highly intelligent, very motivated, enjoys working, and becomes neurotic if not given enough to do. She has a very strong herding instinct which she uses to attempt to herd the cats.

The Australian Shepherd part of her is easy going and loves to play. She is a puppy at heart. She is intelligent, eager to please, and seems to sense what is expected of her. She is aggressive sometimes when she wants to “herd” the cats, but she is very gentle with us.

I looked up the Australia Cattle Dog because we had met so many people while we were out with Sheila and they would ask “Is that a Blue Heeler?”, which is an Australian Cattle Dog. We had no idea what a Blue Heeler was. So when we checked, it looked like Sheila was a Blue Heeler. She has dark black heels and I thought that was why they were called Blue Heelers. But, I’ve since read that they call them blue heelers because they nip at the cows heels. So, I don’t know what’s right. I do know that her coat is so black that it has a “blue” appearance in some lights and her heals are “blue”.

Also the description of the Cattle Dog says that they are not the kind of dogs who will lie around in the living room all day with just 15 minutes of exercise. Well, Sheila is a very lazy dog. She is happy to lie around in the living room and anywhere else all day long sleeping and if you try to make her go out into the yard, she will do everything she can to avoid it.

So I take her out each day and we walk for an hour. I’m sure she can’t wait to get home. I let her stop and sniff because it’s her walk too. I can’t remember the last time I went for a walk alone. Now I put my ipod on and off we go. She probably hears sounds that I don’t hear. She’s always looking left to right, over her shoulder............but, I look in the direction that she looks because I know......she sees everything.

More later.......

He was sitting in front of the door....

It is a known fact that if one sits long enough in front of a door, doing the proper yoga exercises, the door will open.
--May Sarton

Last week our City started a class for the Community Emergency Response Team (C.E.R.T.). It’s strictly voluntary and Charlie decided to sign up. He attended two classes last week from 5:00pm to 9:00pm. Today and next Saturday, he will be in the class all day, 8:00am to 5:00pm.

He is learning how to respond to a disaster, if called to help in the community. These volunteers could be called when we have fires, earthquakes and other disasters when the professionals can’t be everywhere. They need to know how to organize and also how to work safely. In the event of a catastrophe which may result in large numbers of injuries, etc., he needs to know how to protect himself and others when blood or hazardous chemicals are a threat. He’s learning quite a bit and it will be something helpful to use at home.

For instance, we have a fire extinguisher somewhere in the garage. If I could find it, I’m sure it wouldn’t work. After this class, Charlie will get new ones: one for the kitchen, one for upstairs and one for the RV. (The one in the RV now has been there since we bought the RV in 2004......and never been used). I’m pretty sure it won’t work in an emergency.

So today is my "day off". I don’t get days alone much anymore and I have planned to do a few things on my own today.

This morning I had a contractor named Luis, come to give an estimate on coating the patio floor. When we were talking, he asked me if the cat on the front window sill was real. I said “The yellow and white one? Yes, he’s real. That’s Mr. Creme.”

Mr. Creme and Dad

He said that when he came up to the front door, Mr. Creme just sat there and didn’t move. Luis watched him and waved his hand, trying to get Mr. Creme to move or blink an eye. Mr. Creme didn’t do either, so Luis didn’t think he was a real cat. I told him that Mr. Creme thought if he didn’t move or blink, Luis wouldn’t know he was there. We had a good laugh.

Later I went out to water a couple of bushes that we had transplanted. One looked pretty dry. I came back into the backyard and watered a few other things. I spotted two big grasshoppers on the Butterfly bush. I know they are eating my Four O’Clocks, but I can’t kill a grasshopper. They have “those” eyes. So I sprayed the hose, not exactly being careful not to wet them down good.

Mr. Creme was in the grass and it looked like he was playing with something. I saw that it wasn’t a bird, so I assumed he’d found a leaf or bug. When I stopped watering, I walked over to put the hose away. That’s when I saw that Mr. Creme had a grasshopper and every time it would hop, he put his paw on it to hold it down. I rescued the poor thing and put it over the fence.

Today is a pretty day. The sun is shining, it’s not too hot, and there’s a nice breeze. For a few days last week, we had the hot Santa Ana conditions. We usually get those hot winds in October, but our October this year was overcast and we even had rain a few times. I don’t think I recall an October like this ever.

California has certain months that you can predict. For instance, we have “May gray”, “June gloom”, and Santa Ana’s in October. This year, we had gray skies all through July, August and September. Not much of a summer at all.

I hear some hummingbirds outside and I need to make some fresh nectar, so I’ll get to that and then hopefully, I’ll get to painting a wall.

Before I know it, it will be 5:00pm. I can’t wait to hear what Charlie did in class today. They will be outside learning bandages, splints, etc. I guess.

Last night I made his lunch for today, but I was asleep when he left this morning. When I checked, I see he did get his sandwich and chips.

I’ve been staying up too late at night and I sleep later than usual. Hopefully I can get back into my regular sleep routine tonight. The twins and I have been out of kilter. Since the Calico’s have taken over the bed, the twins have been staying away, but I expect we’ll all get settled soon.

Don’t forget to set your clocks BACK tonight before you go to bed!

More later........

We give kittens a warm home, tender care, and endless affection.

In return, they give us another reason to celebrate life.

Taz, just a couple of days after we brought him home

Last night I slipped back into the “missing Taz” mode. I went to bed and although I felt sleepy, I couldn’t sleep. On the shelf above our headboard is the imprint of Taz’s paw. When I start thinking of him, I reach up and take the little mold and hold it and rub each little pad and say a prayer to please let me know when it’s time to go to the shelter and get another kitten. I want it to be the right time.

Taz has been gone about 4 weeks. The twins still miss him. They watched and learned from him. He allowed them to be near him, when he wouldn't allow any of the other cats near.

Charlie and I talked about it the other night and decided that we would have “another baby”. I was happy and said “We’re expecting!” We don’t know when, but we know that it is what we want to do.

Before Taz, we had talked about getting a kitten for about two years. Rowdy and Calvin were getting older and we thought that a kitten might be a buffer for us to deal with not having them one day.

During the two years, Charlie was on and off travel. He told me that if I wanted to get a kitten while he was gone, it was okay. He trusted me to get a "good" one. But, I didn’t have the urgency to look.

Then in December of 1998, all of a sudden, we had the urge to go and look for a kitten. We went to the County shelter. There was a little male kitten who looked like the one. When we asked, he was already taken. So we went to the City and found nothing there. The next weekend, we went back to the City. We went into the “cat room”. One cat was meowing. It was a cute little gray striped cat. I said to Charlie, “I don’t think I could stand much of that noise”.

Across from him in a kennel, we saw a little kitten and went to look at it. It looked like the cat we wanted. Charlie checked and she was taken. Then we turned around and I said “What about that one?” He was the one meowing when we walked in. We went over to him. He was in a cage with a little black cat. We asked if we could take him out. When we held him, he kept wanting to get down. He kept looking down at the little black kitten in the cage with him. We decided that we wanted him. His name would be “Taz”.

We put him back in the cage and watched him. We noticed that each time the door to the cat room opened, he looked at the feet of the people coming in and then immediately looked at their face. I thought that was amazing about him.

We adopted him that Saturday, December 19, 1998. The rules then were that we could have brought him home and then have him neutered by our vet, or leave him at the shelter and they would have him neutered by one of the vets who were contracted with the animal shelter. Then we would pick him up from that vet. We decided to leave him and pick him up from the contracted vet on the following Monday.

On Monday, I received a call from the vet in Imperial Beach, who was going to neuter our kitten. They had not neutered him yet and were asking if we would pay for a pain medication that he might need after the neutering. I was kind of surprised that they had not neutered him yet. I’m sure he hadn’t had anything to eat since midnight and here it was almost noon. He was about 6 weeks old and had nothing to eat since the night before! I told them that yes, I would pay for a pain shot after neutering! When we got home from work, we were excited about picking up our kitten from the vet’s. He would be ready at 6:00pm. So, we decided to go and get something to eat and then pick him up.

We got to the vet’s office and it was crowded. We checked in and were waiting. All of a sudden we heard the loudest screams coming from one of the examining rooms. Somehow, we knew it was our baby, Tax. Everyone was looking at each other, I’m sure wondering, “What in the world are they doing to that poor cat?”

We were called into the examining room. There was our baby, Tax, on the table. He was screaming! The poor vet looked like, “I didn’t do anything to him, honest!.” Over the noise, he desperately tried to tell us how to care for Tax, post-surgery. We really didn’t hear anything he said. We were both thinking, “Did we just adopt a feral kitten? Now what?” We had brought a blanket, so we wrapped him up and walked out through the waiting room. He was screaming his head off and of course, everyone was staring as we walked through. We didn’t care. We were more concerned about what kind of wild animal did we have here?

As we walked across the parking lot, Taz squirmed and was like a slinky. Even in the blanket, I had a hard time holding onto him. He was very small though and I managed. We knew that if he got loose, we’d have a hard time getting him back, if ever, and it was dark.

We got him home and decided to keep him in the master bathroom for a few days until we could introduce him into the household. We didn’t know how Rowdy and Calvin would accept him and we had Chelsi too. We fed him and he was ravenous. Then we spent some time with him and he meowed and fought sleep, but finally fell asleep while I held him in my hands.

If we’d had it to do over again, we’d have brought him home that Saturday, taken him to our vet to have him neutered, and then he wouldn’t have had to go through this. He was so little and had gone so long without eating and then he was in such pain, and being the shy little cat that he was, he had been handled by so many strangers that day.

But, he was home with us now and thank goodness they don’t dwell on things like humans do. Before long he was running around the house, playing with Rowdy and Calvin and getting to know his dog, Chelsi.

Rowdy and Taz

Calvin and Taz

I know he loved his life with us and we loved him so much. I would have liked to have him longer. But, like my friend Mary told me the other day ,“I told Princess that we’d be together again some day”. Then she said, “I don’t know if I believe that, but it made it easier to say good bye to her. Otherwise, what are you going to do?”

I don’t know if I’ll ever see Taz or any of our other babies that we love so much again, but I would like to think that I will. Heaven to me is seeing the loved ones who have gone before you, people and pets. I know I’m not the only one who thinks like this.

I have a friend who told me that sometimes when she goes to bed at night she still thinks of dogs and cats that she had when she was a child. They are the most innocent souls. You can’t forget them. It sure hurts when they leave you.

We’re expecting another baby..........sometime soon, hopefully. He won't replace "The Baby", but I think me, dad and the twins will be ready to spoil him!

"The Baby"

More later...........

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR MOTHER

As A Young Mother

Today, November 5, would have been my Mom’s 90th birthday. I think about her often.

Tuesday night, November 2, when Charlie and I were watching the election returns, I thought about the mid-term elections back on November 1, 1994. Charlie was somewhere on travel and I was home alone to watch the returns. I called my Mom, who lived 3,000 miles and 3 time zones away. She was watching the Fox News Channel and since we didn’t have FNC yet, I was watching CNN. But, the returns were coming in the same. That was a historic election because the Republicans took both houses of Congress. It had been about 40 years since that had happened. We both had kept up with the politics leading up to the election, so we had lots to talk about. We were on the phone for well over an hour before saying “good night”.

My Mom had a love for animals which she passed on to us. When I was a little girl I can’t remember how many stray cats I brought home. We kept every one of them.

My parents had been raised to believe that animals belonged in the yard, not in the house. I remember that we had dogs outside and cats outside. Of course, we sneaked them in when we could. The window by my bed didn’t have a screen. When a cat would sit on the outside window sill, I raised the window and that cat slept with me. Usually the cat would want back out to go to the bathroom during the night. There were many mornings when “Pop” got up and I heard him cussing about that ‘@#%& cat stayed in the house last night and s**t on the floor!’ As we got older, we wore our parents down and they started allowing our pets into the house.

We had a white cat named “Josephine”. She had 2 white kittens. We didn’t know if they were girls or boys, but we named the kittens “Geraldine” and “Christine”. My best friend, Glenda, and I were out walking one day. We found 2 little white kittens in the median between the four lane highway near our house. Of course, we brought the kittens home. They were just a little bigger than “Josephine’s” kittens. We put them in the box with the family. “Josephine” just accepted them.

One morning my Pop was walking by the box. He said to Mom, “I thought that old cat had TWO kittens”. Without batting an eye, my Mom said “Well, she has 4 now”. She didn’t lie, but she didn’t offer any explanation either. So, we got away with that one.

When Charlie and I lived in Virginia we asked Mom to come up and visit for a couple of weeks. We told her that she could bring her little black cat, “Scoot”, with her if she wanted to. So “Scoot” came to visit and stayed in Mom’s room with her. We had 9 cats of our own at the time, and they didn’t care for each other, much less a visitor like “Scoot”.

Mom liked all of our cats, but she especially liked Taz. She always liked tabby cats and Taz had stripes. But, Taz was very shy and wouldn’t come anywhere near Mom. We had a little kitchen nook where we had a small table. Taz, being special, liked to sit on that table. He had a small bowl of kibble and he could watch my every move when I was in the kitchen.

Mom came down every morning, sat at the table with her coffee and worked the crossword puzzle from the newspaper. If Taz was on the table when she came in, he usually quietly slipped away. After about a week, Mom was at the table one morning and Taz came in and jumped up. That was the first hurdle. My Mom wouldn’t be satisfied until Taz allowed her to pet him. She was persistent and after a few more days, she finally conquered Taz. I loved seeing them at the table together. Taz would stand and arch his back while she petted him. He loved the attention and he was making her day. I just wish I’d taken a picture of that!

Mom’s health was not good for the last few years of her life. My sister, Jennifer, and I were talking one time about how it was hard to realize that Mom was frail. She said “Here is Mom, once bigger than life to us, strong and always there, and now I have to remember that she needs my arm to walk down the steps.........” We just go through life and then all of a sudden you see the changes. We get older.

Mom had heart surgery on May 6, 1996. They repaired a valve in her heart. I went to stay with her for the month of May. I wouldn’t take anything for the time I spent with her, talking to her, making sure the bird feeders were filled so she could watch the birds that she loved. Taking care of her dog and cat, the horses and just being there with her.

I miss Mom. We all do. She was the center of our family. She passed away March 11, 2005, just one day before my Pop’s birthday. She was 84. Pop had passed away just days after his birthday, March 15, 1988 at 68.

Mom and Pop

When my Mom was alive, she was the magnet that brought us kids together for Thanksgiving or Christmas or “just because”.

It’s been over a year since I’ve seen my two brothers and two sisters. Charlie and I cancelled our trip to see our families this year because of Taz’s illness, but next year......here we come........”just because”.

Jean, Jennifer, Mom, Robert, Me, & Richard
Mother's Day, May 2003

More later.........