Saving Bella......

When we were in North Carolina last May, my niece Debbie and her family had a family reunion picnic at a park. Afterwards we went back to Debbie’s house for awhile.

Debbie has her own cats, but there are also a couple of cats who come up in her yard and she feeds them. That was when I met “Bella”. Bella is a young white and gray cat. She was very skinny when I saw her. Debbie fed her when she came up, but supposedly Bella “belonged” to the lady next door. The only problem with that was, the lady next door didn’t really take care of Bella and she was always outside or in Debbie’s yard.

Bella

I asked Debbie why she didn’t just take Bella in and take care of her as her own. Debbie said she couldn’t because the lady would not like that. It didn’t make sense to me, because I don’t think “the lady” would even miss Bella.

In June, after we got home, I talked to Debbie one day. She said that Bella was still around and she was still feeding her. There was just something about that little cat. She was so affectionate and just wanted to be cared for. I asked Debbie again if she could take her in. Bella needed to go to a vet and get her shots, but she also had never been spayed. She was about eight months old.

On July 3, Debbie called me and said, “Bella had her kittens under my doorsteps.” I didn’t know that Bella was going to have kittens. I had seen her in late May and she was pretty skinny.

Debbie said she thought there were five kittens. She put them in a box and moved them to a shed in her yard. Since it was summer and it was in North Carolina, the temperatures were high and it was very humid. Debbie called me one day and said that she probably needed to bring Bella and her kittens inside. They had fleas though and she didn’t want them in the house. I suggested that she get Frontline or Advantage and treat Bella for fleas and then bring them in.

The next day, she called and said she had put some Frontline on Bella and brought her and the kittens inside where it was cool. By now, there were four kittens. Debbie wasn’t sure if she had just thought there were five, because she couldn’t find a fifth one.

Bella's little calico

One of the kittens was a little female calico. She was not eating and even though Debbie had gotten some kitten formula and was helping Bella nurse the kittens, the little calico just got weaker and weaker. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it. That left three kittens.

Debbie took Bella and the kittens in for the vet to examine. She planned to bring Bella back to be spayed when she had weaned the kittens. The vet checked the kittens and sent them home. He said it would be fine to bathe the kittens to rid them of fleas, but to make sure they were kept warm while they dried. Debbie gave them a bath and pronounced them flea-free!

KK, Baby, and Holstein

One of the kittens was white with black spots. That was the one that Debbie thought she wanted to keep. She named him “Holstein”. Another one was white with brown spots. Her name was “Baby”. Then there was little “KK”. She looked like Bella.

Debby noticed that the kittens’ eyes were opening at about two weeks old. But, “Baby’s” eyes remained closed. She seemed to have a discharge which crusted over the eyes. Debbie called her vet and he said to use damp compresses to keep the eyes moist. The crustiness still didn’t go away.

Debbie took “Baby” to the vet. She was treated. Then Debbie called me and said that one of the technicians wanted to keep “Baby”, so she let her take “Baby” home with her. Another technician wanted “Holstein” and, although Debbie had planned on keeping him, she couldn’t turn down a good home for him. The technicians still had to bottle feed “Baby” and “Holstein” because they were still nursing.

Now Debbie just had “KK”. She was being weaned, but was still nursing with Bella. “KK” was on kitten food as well.

Yesterday morning, Debbie called me from the emergency vet and said that “KK” had been fine earlier, but then she saw her just lying on the floor. She was listless and she didn’t look like she was alive. Debbie called her mother and they took “KK” to the emergency vet.

They were giving “KK” fluids and running tests, but they wanted to keep her possibly overnight. Debbie left her there. She received a call a few hours later. “KK” had passed away. Just like that.

When Debbie called to tell me, all I could say was that kittens are fragile. “KK” would have been only four weeks old today. There are so many kittens who are born in the wild and you wonder how they survive with all odds against them. But, somehow they do. We don’t know how many don’t survive though. You’d think that kittens born in a house, being fed and taken care of, would have a better chance. But, that’s not always the case.

We lost two of Jezibel’s kittens within a week of their birth. They were in the house, warm and safe from the outdoors, but they were so fragile at that age. One had always been weak from birth and didn’t eat properly. He died early one morning. We discovered him when we went up to feed the kittens their bottle before going to work.

While we were out that night, the other one was separated from his mother and the warmth of the other kittens. He got too cold. When we came home and found him, we tried to warm him up, but he didn’t recover.

A couple of weeks after that, we found Lexi, also one of Jezibel’s kittens, about three weeks old, just lying with the other kittens. She was not moving and even though her eyes were open, it was like she was paralyzed. We took her to the emergency vet right away. He gave her some Karo syrup mixed with warm water. She seemed to perk up some, but there was not much else he could do. He said she might not make it, but to take her home and keep her warm.

I bundled Lexi up and she slept next to me, between Charlie and I all night. I woke up periodically to check to see if she was still alive. She did make it through the night. It was not until later the next day that Lexi seemed to come alive again. We put her back in the bed with Jezibel and the other kittens. She started nursing and moving around.

And just recently we had the problem with our newest kitten, “Rhody”. We really didn’t know if he was going to make it or not. Of course, he did, and he seems just fine now. But, with young kittens, I’ve learned that they can be gone in the blink of an eye and most of the time, you never know why.

Debbie said when she talked to her husband, Vince, he said, “You’re not going to keep Bella, are you?” Vince was not at home. He was on the road, driving a truck.

She told him, “Yes, I’m keeping Bella.” I told her I was glad. “At least you saved Bella.”

More later.......

If you are a host to your guest, be a host to his dog also. ~Russian Proverb

Patti and Bob went home yesterday. They had been here since last Tuesday. It was 112 degrees in Palm Springs, so this was a nice escape from that weather.

They brought their cat, "KK", with them. We’re still amazed at how much Bob dotes on that cat. When we first met him, he didn’t seem like a cat person at all. We were teased quite a bit by him because we had cats.

Every morning at 8:00am, Bob came into the family room, carrying "KK". He put her up in the cat tree. Then, while he read the paper and had coffee, she would quietly get down and start exploring the house.

"KK" has been here several times. The first time they brought her, she was only a few months old. She and "Jason" got along well. They played and chased each other. Our “Kaci” wasn’t into that at all. Neither were any of the other cats.

“KK” was not quite a year old when she came to visit again. "Jason" remembered her and I think she was here for a week that time too. She blended right in with our cats. Well, at least with "Jason". He called her his “girl-friend”.

"Jonesie" came to live with us last December. In January I took him with me to Palm Springs to stay with Patti for a few days. He met “KK” for the first time. The first thing he did was find her toys and take over. At first “KK” sat and watched this kid (he was only about three months old), and then within an hour they were chasing each other through the house.

Jonesie and KK
January 2011

Now "KK" is about 1-1/2 years old. When they brought her in the house the other day, she was a little reserved. She wanted to stay under the bed. “Jonesie” went under the bed with her. After a day or so, she was roaming the house and was getting comfortable with everyone.

Yesterday when they were getting ready to leave, they couldn’t find “KK” anywhere. She had seen the packing and the kennel, and like our cats, made herself scarce. We looked all over the house for her.

Bob was getting a little concerned. I said, "Well, I guess she's just going to have to stay with us". Bob didn't think that was funny. He said, "That's what you said last time". I didn't remember me saying it last time, but maybe I did. He acted like it was an old joke that wasn't funny....

I checked my closet again and there she was. She had gotten so comfortable in our house that she had found herself a little hiding place. That’s usually the first place we look for our cats when we can’t find one of them. I picked her up and backed her into her kennel. Bob was happy.

So, they are gone. As nice as it was to have them visit, I know they were glad to get home and back into their daily routines. Charlie and I were also anxious to get back to ours!

Bob said it was only going to be 102 degrees in Palm Springs when they got home. ((Smile))

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

It is what it is............

This is one proud Mom with her "baby"

When Taz was diagnosed with lymphoma in July 2010, it was something we had never faced before. I mean, Chelsi, our dog, had been diagnosed with a tumor in her chest in March 2007. It was inoperable and a slow growing cancer. We were lucky to have her with us for another year and a half. I would say that a year and three months of that time were quality time. It was only the last two or three months that Chelsi’s health declined quickly.

With Taz though, we thought that the chemo therapy he would receive would extend his life at least until maybe Spring of 2011. We were hoping anyway.

Not long after Taz started chemo I joined a support group online called feline_lymphoma. Everyone who was on there was writing their stories and questions about what they were going through. I was updating on Taz’s treatments, etc. There were so many people on that site talking about their cats going through this terrible disease. It was amazing what they did for their cats. I joined the site at a time when I was totally clueless about lymphoma. I went back and read the cases earlier and what happened. There were success stories, but most ended the way ours did with Taz, unfortunately.

When Taz died in October 2010, I still visited the site to keep up on the ones who were still struggling with the treatments and sometimes a remission, which was bittersweet news for me because Taz was gone. Don’t get me wrong. I was happy for the person who still had their sweet baby with them....for awhile longer. I know that remission is a fleeting moment sometimes. We had surgical remission with Taz and we were elated until we got the news that the cancer was back with a vengeance.

Anyway, one of my online friends suggested that I go to the lymphoma_loss group. We crossed over to that group when we and our babies lost the battle with lymphoma.

I went to the site and told my story of Taz and the brave fight we had put up and lost. It was as sad as any story I read on the site, which by the way, started in July 2007. There are only about 1,000 postings on the site today. But, I got support that I needed and found that others had gone through the same thing and some had even worse experiences.

I still check the site once a week or so, just to see how everyone is doing. I’m notified when a new person joins. The latest person came on July 8 and had lost her cat to lymphoma 4 weeks earlier. She was heartbroken, as we can all imagine:

“I still can't imagine life without him. I look for him
every day. So much of my daily routine involved Sylvester - getting him
to eat in the morning when I woke up, getting him to eat at night when I
came home from work, giving him his meds, him sitting on my lap on the
couch at night while I watched TV, lying in my arms at night while I
sleep. I just can't get over the fact that he's gone. He was diagnosed
in August 2010 and lived 10 months on chemo treatments that he went for
every week and then every other week. Two weeks before he died he
stopped eating altogether. A new mass had formed in his intestines (he
was originally diagnosed with large cell intestinal lymphoma when he had
a mass removed from his intestines in August). I was syringe-feeding
him every day, several times a day. In Friday, 6/10 I woke up early to
find him lying in his litter box. When I picked him up he was all limp.
When I laid him on the carpet, he seemed to gasp for air. I rushed him
to Animal Urgent Care (since it was 6am) and had him put to sleep. I
felt he was suffering. No, 4 weeks later, I can't get those last 2
weeks out of my head. I keep thinking of him as sick as he was. I
can't stop thinking of those last moments of his life as he was laying
on the cold, steel examining table at the vet's office. I force myself
to think of a good memory whenever I find those bad ones popping in but
it's hard. They sent me his ashes and a paw print after he was
cremated. I have them sitting on my dresser and I look at them every
day. My mom thinks I should put them away so I can't see them every day
but I didn't. When will those bad memories go away? When will I only
think of the good times we had? He was only 7 years old - too young to
leave me. I have another cat, Nellie, who doesn't seem to miss him at
all. She has been sitting on my lap more, which is what Sylvester used
to do. My mom thinks she is being empathetic but I think she's just
happy to be top cat again. I'm glad I have her there with me. She's 14
and healthy (except for a heart murmur and a touch of asthma).

Well, thanks for listening. I'm trying to get through this but it's
hard, you know?”

Yes, we know. We’ve been through it too. I’ve always second guessed our decision to let Taz go when we did. But, when I read about the trouble that her cat had breathing, etc., I wouldn’t have wanted Taz to go through that. Maybe he would have been all right a little longer, but the lymphoma was spreading in his body. It was large cell and very aggressive at that time. It wouldn’t have been long before it affected his breathing. I can’t think of anything worse than not being able to breathe.

I can't get certain things out of my mind either, like the last time I saw Taz. I’m sure Charlie has memories that he can’t erase either. When we took Rhody to the hospital that morning, they took him back for X-rays. We left the examining room and walked down the hall to get some coffee. Charlie said he couldn’t help but think of the “comfort room” where we sat with Taz before he went to sleep. We could see it down the hall. Both of us will never forget that day.

She writes:
“Sylvester's oncologist called me on Friday. She had been out of the office
since before Sylvester died and just now heard about his death. She was calling
with condolences. I told her everything that happened to Sylvester in the 2
weeks leading up to his death. It just opened the wound all over again. All
weekend I've been sad thinking about it. I was lying in bed this morning
thinking about how Sylvester used to eat his grass plant and I started crying.
Even the good memories are making me sad. I just miss him so much. I finally
put a couple of his pictures in frames and set them around the house. I have
one by my bed and one by the couch where I sit and watch TV at night - where
Sylvester used to sit with me while I watched TV. This morning Nellie, my other
cat, sat up and stared at the corner where Sylvester used to sit on weekend
mornings while he waited for me to get out of bed. I think Sylvester's spirit
was in the room checking on me and Nellie. Am I just torturing myself by
putting his pictures up where I can see them? I feel like I need to see him
every day. It just hurts so much, you know?

Sylvester had this thing that he used to do where he would climb up on my lap
and curl up in my arms and lay his head on my chest. I miss those moments. I
miss hearing him scratch and kick litter out of his litter box. He used to use
his litter box and then kick all kinds of sand out onto the carpet. He was so
messy. But I miss hearing him do that. He also had the tiniest meow. He was
such a big kitty - 15 lbs - but he had the meow of a kitten. It was more like a
squeak. I miss hearing him meow at me.

I just miss him.”

Yes, I know the feeling. My reply to her:

"You are going through the normal grieving process. We all are. Everyone handles it differently. I started a blog soon after my Taz was diagnosed in July 2010. I told of his ups and downs, etc. and it's been 9 months since he died and I can't go back and read those blogs...yet. Maybe one day. It still hurts terribly when I think about what he went through and how brave he was right to the end.

I think of the good times that Taz and I shared, but the thoughts are bitter-sweet because I want those times back so badly and I know they are gone forever. I was so lucky to have that little angel in my life. He was truly an amazing cat.

I totally understand your missing Sylvester and the sounds he made in his routines. Not a day goes by that I don't sit and wish to have Taz back with me. I still miss him terribly and I still break down and cry at times. I just let myself feel whatever I feel. I've accepted that grief will be with me and as time goes by, no matter how long it takes, I will find peace without Taz in my life, but I will not ever forget him and will always think about him.

When I'm sitting on the patio where he liked to sit with me, in my chair at night watching TV or reading, in the yard sitting on the bench in the corner, which I call "Taz's Bench", or especially in bed at night where he used to come up and lay on my chest and try to lick my face. I wouldn't let him lick my face, because of his rough tongue and I had moisturizer on which I didn't want him to ingest, so I put my palm up and he would lick my palm and I would rub the top of his head like I was "washing" his head. It was something that just he and I shared and I miss having him there and I miss the attention that he always showed me.

I have other cats who I love dearly. They are special to me, but there will never be another like Taz. That's what I'm grieving too. My heart is broken and I just take it one day at a time.

I have two pictures of Taz in the bedroom. Also, I keep his little paw print nearby and sometimes when I'm in bed at night and I'm thinking of him, (which is
every night), I take the little cast and hold it next to my chest. I run my fingers over the imprint of his paw. The imprint was taken within minutes of Taz's death, by his oncologist technician, before we took him to be cremated.

I also have a bigger picture of Taz which a good friend of mine gave me for Christmas. She had it printed on canvas and I hung it in the family room so Taz
looks down at me when I sit in "our" chair. His eyes are looking at the camera, so it looks like he's looking at me, no matter where I move in the room. It gives me great comfort to have those pictures where I can always see him.

So I say, enjoy your pictures of Sylvester and think about him any time you feel
like it. May they comfort you and make you feel his presence. Cry when you feel
like it. It's all normal as far as I'm concerned. I'm not anywhere near done
crying....

Take care my friend and be well."

Kind of like the blind leading the blind, but any light in the dark will help.

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

A house is not always a home.....

We’ve lived in several different places. We rented an apartment for two years in Monterey; a house in Pennsylvania for three years; and then moved back here in 1993 and rented a house for six years.

Although we were renters, we always took such good care of those homes. It was as if they belonged to us.

Whenever we go up to Monterey, we like to park near our old apartment and walk around the lake that we walked when we lived there. This was our first home together. We lived there two years. The apartment house looks the same. It's still well cared for.

We have been back to Pennsylvania and we have gone by our old house there. The owners moved back in after we moved out after we lived there for three years. The only difference there is that someone bought the vacant lot next door and built a house on it.

Since we don’t live far from the house we rented here, we sometimes drive by to see how the house is holding up.

We lived there from May 1993 until we bought this house in May 1999. In the six years we lived there, our rent was never raised.

We planted bushes, trees, and kept the yard watered. We had grass in the front and back yards. There were citrus trees in the backyard. We had a naval orange tree, a Valencia orange tree, which had the best oranges to squeeze for orange juice. There was a tangerine and a tangelo tree. Every other year, we had bumper crops. We had to take oranges to work to give away.











Chelsi in the yard where the orange trees were


The yard today....all stumps

















Charlie with "bumper" crop of oranges



My herb garden....see the cat in the catnip?

Before we left on our RV trip in May, Charlie and I were in that neighborhood. We went by the old house. We were extremely amazed at the condition of the property. It had been awhile since we were there, but the last time we were, someone was living there. The yard didn’t look good then, but it was nothing to what it was now.

This time, the house was empty. We stopped. Part of the fence was down. We walked back to the backyard. That was the biggest shock of all to us. The yard was basically dirt, no grass. And worse, all of the trees were gone–four citrus, plus the apple tree which had been near the fence.












I used to have weeds to trim...apple tree behind me next to fence

Today, no weeds, apple tree or fence!

The wood fence on one side was gone, leaving a chain link fence. (Now you could see into the barren backyard of “baby boy”. He is the one who told Chelsi to “Shut the hell up” one day when she was barking in HER yard, years ago when we lived here). He still lives there and I’m sure his mother, Mary, has passed away by now. We used to throw our snails into his yard telling them that if they could survive that “desert” over there, we would welcome them back. We didn’t want to be the ones who killed them.












Chelsi and I by my herb garden


What it looks like today

Anyway, the other day I went back over to our old house to take some pictures. It looks like someone has been working inside. I looked through the window at the kitchen. They are replacing the counters. I’m sure the carpet is also being replaced. It looks promising.

We rented that house because it looked so comfortable. There is a big enclosed patio in the back. We had Chelsi at the time. She was house broken, but still under a year old when we moved in. Since we were both working, we needed a place for her to be, and have access to the yard during the day. This was perfect. We left her out there when we went to work. We could lock the glass patio doors to the house, but leave the glass door to the yard open enough that Chelsi could run in and out.

There was indoor/outdoor carpet on the patio. It took lots of wear. We shampooed it several times because when Chelsi was younger, she would run in and out, even if it was raining. She tracked in muddy feet, etc.

That patio was also the perfect place for our pool table. We spent lots of nights out there playing pool. It was so much fun. We turned the music on, got our drinks and just had fun. The cats and Chelsi stayed out there for awhile, but we outlasted all of them. They finally went to bed without us.














Judi the pool shark.... Should I run the table?

We liked that house so much that we asked the owner if he would sell it to us. He was not interested. It was his childhood home, his parent’s home, which he inherited when they died. The price he said he wanted was way too much, even for a house that we liked so much. We found the house we are in now and moved. Looking back, as much as we liked the house, we like the house we’re in now much better.

That house remained a rental. I’m hoping that the owner will fix it up again and it will be home to someone who will take care of it and enjoy it like we did.












We planted this little palm tree

They let it live....it's on the right and big now!

It was our home for six years. Rowdy and Calvin were five years old when we moved there in 1993. Chelsi was only seven months old. This was Taz’s first home. He was six weeks old when we brought him home. It would be his home for six months, then we moved into our new house.

I don’t think there’s anything as lonely as an empty house. Especially if that house had one time been filled with a family who loved it and loved living in it!

...But a house that has done what a house should do, a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.

So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back;
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.

Last two verses of poem, "The House with Nobody In It" by Joyce Kilmer

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

Retirement is like a long vacation in Las Vegas. The goal is to enjoy it the fullest, but not so fully that you run out of money. ~Jonathan Clements

I noticed the other day that my right front tire on my car looked like needed air. I figured I ran over a nail or screw somewhere. I don’t know how many times I have found a nail in one of my tires. I take it down to a tire dealer to have it fixed. They’ve never charged me. I have decided that when I need a new set of tires, I will buy them there.

But, this time I told Charlie I had a low tire and asked if he could use his compressor to pump it up. The compressor is in the RV, which is still at the RV Specialists. He said he would go across the street and see if our neighbor had a portable compressor.

I got busy in the house and a few minutes later Charlie came in. I said “Did you get air in my tire?” He said “Yes, I took it to “Joe and Pat’s Garage”. I started to say “Where?” and then I got it. He went to our neighbor’s. We call him “Mr. Pat” and his son is Joe. Mr. Pat has everything in the world in his garage. He is the “go to” guy for all of us.

Charlie walked over and asked if they had a portable compressor. Joe said “You got a flat tire? Bring the car over.” Charlie brought my car over. Joe took the tire off, found the hole, patched it and inflated the tire and put it back on. It took maybe ten minutes.

Mr. Pat is maybe in his mid-60's. He used to work at the National Steel Shipyard. He did welding and pipefitting. He had a really bad accident one day. Now he is disabled from working. He has nerve damage in his legs. He can walk, but can’t stand for anything to touch his left leg. He always wears shorts with the left side pinned up. When we first met him, I thought it was strange until we learned of his injuries. He says he is always in pain, but it is managed.

It’s unusual for Mr. Pat’s garage door to be closed. Even late at night sometimes, when Mr. Pat can't sleep, he is in his garage doing something. The door is open and the fluorescent lights shine out onto his driveway. If you can't sleep, you can always wander over and talk to Mr. Pat.

When Charlie was in Pennsylvania and I was here alone, it was comforting to know that Mr. Pat was there in his garage. I've been awake at 1:00 am and looked over to see his garage open. My neighbor, Bridgit, also said she feels safe as long as he's there. Her husband sometimes works overnight.

Sometimes when Charlie needs a tool or needs to ask how to do something, he looks over to see if Mr. Pat’s garage is open. If it’s not, we don’t go over because we figure Mr. Pat is lying down. Sometimes his leg starts bothering him and he has to get off of his feet for awhile.

Charlie and I went to Las Vegas with Mr. Pat and Paulette one time. They used to go out there a couple of times a year. We really enjoyed that trip. We stayed at the Golden Nugget, which is where they liked to stay, and then went down to the big, new casinos on the strip.

Mr. Pat and Paulette
Las Vegas

Mr. Pat has blue eyes, white hair and a long beard. He’s stocky and looks like Santa Claus. It’s not just me who thinks that. When we were in Las Vegas that time, we were coming down the escalator. At the bottom, several people were looking up, watching Mr. Pat and they smiled and mouthed the words “Santa Claus!” That happened several different times in different places.

Although it was February, Mr. Pat wore his dressier shorts, but the left leg of the short was pinned up. I wondered if people would stare, but if they did, I didn’t notice or care. Neither did Mr. Pat.

In Las Vegas

I think it’s been at least six months since Mr. Pat and Paulette went to Las Vegas. They had planned to stay for three nights. We were surprised to see that the car was back the next day. Apparently Mr. Pat’s leg was just bothering him too much and he couldn’t get comfortable when he tried to rest, so they just came home. Paulette said that they probably wouldn’t be going back for awhile, if ever. It’s a shame because they really loved going out there.

There’s no more Vegas, but now every few months, Mr. Pat’s garage is the place where “Texas Hold ‘em” is played. Charlie is always invited to play and sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses everything right away. But, he stays and watches and has fun. They’re all a bunch of characters and he comes home and tells me the stories.

I’ve been invited to play, but I hardly know how the game works and I would need to practice a little before playing with these guys. But, maybe when Patti and Bob come next week, we can have a few hands. Bob has a regular “Texas Hold ‘em” game every week.

I wish our cats could learn to relax!
Lexi

More later.........

If there is one spot of sun spilling onto the floor, a cat will find it and soak it up. ~J.A. McIntosh

“Rhody” had his vet visit on Monday. He passed with flying colors. He weighed in at 4 pounds. Just like our other cats, “Rhody” behaved himself at the vet’s. Our other cats will hardly let me hold them most of the time, but put them on that examining table with a stranger and they go so docile.

Of course, “Rhody” did as he did when we had to take him to the emergency hospital that morning. When we found that we had to leave him there for the day so he could be observed, we asked to see him before we left. They brought him in and he came over to me and stood up like “Pick me up and take me home”.

“Rhody” had a FVRC-P booster under the skin and his first feline leukemia vaccine. That one was in a muscle and it hurt him. I like to be with my cats when they get shots or examines. Not only do I get to see what is done, but I get to see how they behave.

When “Taz” was having chemo, we dropped him off and of course couldn’t be with him when he was given the chemo treatment. Most were intravenous and he always had to go through the waiting, the examining, the blood tests, and then put in line for the treatment. So he was there all day. Some of the chemo had to be administered very slow and it would take several hours to finish. That meant that “Taz” had to lay still for that time.

It was amazing for us to hear how well-behaved “Taz” was when he was getting the treatments. He would never had stood for any of this nonsense from us! But, it made it easier for us to know that he was not stressed out while in the hospital. He was a favorite patient.

Paula, one of “Taz”’s technicians, got to know him so well. They can’t help but get close to their patients and I can understand that. Paula said that after “Taz”’s treatments, they would put him in the cage and then he had to be observed for awhile before we could pick him up. She said that when we came to pick him up, she’d go to get him. She opened the door and said “OK “Taz”, it’s time to go home.” She held his kennel up with the door open and he jumped in.

I didn’t mean to go off on “Taz”’s chemo, but it does come to mind when I think of how our cats behave when we’re not around.

One Sunday morning, when “Rowdy” was about seven years old, I noticed that he looked like he was trying to pee. He was in our backyard. A little later, he again tried, but nothing happened. At that time we were using a vet who had a small practice.

We liked going there because the office so small that the receptionist knew us when we walked in, unlike the other larger vet hospital that we had previously used. We liked the doctors at that hospital, but the “red tape and bureaucracy” that we faced each time we went there, became so annoying. We could have taken a pet there every hour and I don’t think the receptionists would have remembered us!

Then we discovered the smaller vet office just down the road. We tried them and liked them. The vet also seemed to be a good one. Of course, we had never gone there for an emergency. It was always for well-pet care like shots, etc.

So on Monday I made an appointment to take “Rowdy” in to see what his problem was. Upon examination, the vet said that “Rowdy” had a urinary tract blockage. He wanted me to leave “Rowdy” there because he’d have to anesthesize him to put a catheter in and unblock him.

That afternoon I went back to pick “Rowdy” up. He was unblocked, but still groggy from being anesthesized. Even after getting him home, he seemed grouchy and wanted to be left alone. But, he didn’t want to sleep. He’d go to the back patio door and just sit there and stare. He’d been anesthesized at other times, when he was neutered, etc. and he hadn’t acted like that when we got him back. I don’t know what was used to anesthesize him.

It finally wore off and “Rowdy” seemed fine. Then in a couple of days, he was blocked again. I again took him back to the vet. We went through the same thing again. This happened a couple more times. As we left “Rowdy” again with the vet, he told us there is a surgery that could help with the blockage, but that he didn’t think “Rowdy” was a good candidate and we should consider putting him down. Charlie and I were appalled. This was a six year old cat and “putting him to sleep” because he had a blockage was not EVEN an option! Especially if his problem could be corrected with surgery.

I went to pick “Rowdy” up that afternoon. The technician went back to get him and bring him to me. I waited. Finally, she came back and said “Mrs. Bell, can you come back and get “Rowdy” out of his kennel. We’re having trouble with him.” I thought that was kind of strange, but I went back to where he was. As I was coming towards the cage, (it was an upper one and at my eye level) one of the technicians reached to open the cage door. “Rowdy” lunged at her, with the wildest, meanest look in his eyes. I’d never seen our “Rowdy” like that. I didn’t recognize him.

I approached the cage. He looked at me with no recognition in his eyes. I thought that was really weird. His eyes looked wild. The pupils were big. This was not our cat. I put my hand up towards the bars. He lunged at the door. Then I started talking to him, saying “”Rowdy”, what’s the matter, baby boy”, “boy boy”, any kind of talk that might be familiar to him.

When he finally started paying attention that I was talking to him, it was like something came over him. His eyes focused and he didn’t look so scary. He heard my voice and knew me. I tried first putting my fingers in and he came to the door and rubbed against them, as I touched him. It was like night and day. That wild and crazy cat was tame and it was my “Rowdy” again. When I was sure he knew me, I opened the door and took him out and put him in his kennel.

We went home and he was fine for a few days. We were hoping that he finally was unblocked for good. But, that was not meant to be. One evening I came home and he was blocked again. I called the vet. It was after hours and I got the answering service. I asked for the vet and said it was an emergency. She said that the vet had a family emergency and was not available.

We had no choice but to take him to an emergency hospital. It just so happened that the vet hospital that we had previously used, the one we had gotten so tired of, became an emergency hospital from 6:00pm until 8:00am every night. We took “Rowdy” there. They still had his records, but I caught them up on what had been happening with his blockages, etc. They kept him overnight to unblock him.

I was going to school during the day then, so when I got out of school that afternoon, I called the hospital to see if “Rowdy” was ready to come home. He was not. They wanted to keep him until the next morning to see if he blocked again. I was told that I could stop by to visit him though.

When they brought him in the room, I couldn’t believe it. He was happy and spunky and so glad to see me. I thought “Wow, he never looked like this when the other vet got through with him.” I left that afternoon feeling better.

But, that night we received a call from the hospital. “Rowdy” had blocked again. The doctor wanted to talk to us about doing surgery. We went in to talk to them and find out what they wanted to do.

We were told that urinary blockage is almost exclusively a problem that males have. This is because the female urethra is shorter and broader, far more difficult to obstruct. When urinary blockage becomes recurrent in a male cat, it becomes time to consider surgical reconstruction of the genitalia to create a more female-like opening. This surgery is called the perineal urethrostomy or “PU” for short. Basically, the penis is removed and a new urinary opening is made.

We felt that given the many times that “Rowdy” had blocked, unblocked and blocked again, we would go with the surgery. It would be done the first thing in the morning. “Rowdy” was comfortable and had a catheter when we left him.

As we drove home, we joked that now our little “Rowdy” would have to pee sitting down.

The surgery was a success. We brought “Rowdy” home and kept him in his own little pen on the enclosed patio we had. He could look out in the yard and he seemed happy to have his own little area. We kept a close eye on him. When he went back to the vet for a check up, he was in good shape.

I’ll always be grateful that our “old” vet (we moved back to the original vet after they saved “Rowdy”) was off on an emergency that night. Otherwise, I don’t think our “boyboy” would have lived that night, much less another seven years. We never had any more problems with blockages. When he died in 2002, it was from complications of diabetes.

Rowdy, enjoying the sun in our backyard
5/28/94

More later.........

"If animals could speak, the dog would be a blundering outspoken fellow, but the cat would have the rare grace of never saying a word too much."

--Mark Twain

I’ve given myself all next week to get this house in some kind of order. Patti and Bob are coming for a visit week after next. As I walk around, I see cat toys everywhere. Since we’ve had “Jonesie” and especially “Rhody”, every room has toy mice, balls, ball-go-rounds,-- (thanks "grandma" Bell (big smile) -- sticks with strings and mice attached, etc.

I usually put all of the toys in the cat’s toy basket. When the cats want to play, they go to the basket and find a mouse, a soft fuzzy toy, or something to play with. Pretty soon, all of the mice are under the couches or chairs or any furniture that has just enough room for the mouse to escape the abuse it’s receiving. When there are no mice left in the basket, I get my special “stick” and go around and get all of the toys out from under the furniture. I guess this amuses the cats because I usually have quite an audience when I’m on the floor running the stick under the couch, etc.

I’ve discovered that “Rhody” does not give up when he’s trying to catch something that is moving. He jumps and jumps and then when he catches it, he runs off with it.

The twins, Jason and Kaci used to play like that. Usually Jason would take the mouse or whatever was attached to the string and stick and run through the house, with Kaci in tow. If she was lucky enough to catch the stick part or step on it, Jason was halted. Then they started chasing each other through the house and up the cat tree.

Now we have four young cats. Thank goodness they don’t all play at the same time! When “Rhody” can’t find anyone to play with him, he just plays by himself. I woke up this morning to him playing on the bed alone. He was just scurrying around on top of the covers with his “imaginary” toy.

He reminds me so much of one of our first cats, “Calvin”. Before “Calvin” came in to live with us, I watched him out on our patio through the door. One fall evening, just before dark I looked out. There were some brown leaves that had fallen on the patio. “Calvin” was out there batting a leaf around. He’d jump on it, bat it and run after it. I can still picture that cat out there. He didn’t have a home, we weren’t feeding him, but here he was playing all by himself. He didn’t know he was “homeless”. As far as he was concerned, our patio and tent where he was sleeping were his home.

Calvin must have used the night time for his play time because after he came to live with us, he still liked to play after the lights went out. Before he got used to our schedule, many nights we’d go to bed and hear him running up and down the hallway in the dark, playing with something or just running. We’d lay there and laugh because otherwise during the day, we didn’t see him play much.

Calvin was not one of those cats who lived outside and then when he was brought inside, he always wanted to go back out. No, once he was in our house, that was it. He was perfectly happy to never go out again. Dad and son sleeping contentedly after a hard day at play and work

Calvin and Charlie Pennsylvania 1991

The only time he wanted outside was when we were on the patio with Rowdy. Of course, he wanted out with us, but we were afraid to let him out because he hadn’t been with us long and we knew he could jump the patio wall and leave if he wanted to.

Of course, we never let Rowdy out on the patio unless we were out there with him. Not that we had to worry about him jumping the wall. He had ear mites so bad when we first adopted him from the animal shelter, that one of his ear drums had burst. We got rid of the ear mites and he could hear fine, but he never had the equilibrium that he should have had. He was walking along the back of the couch one time and almost fell off. We laughed, but it was because of his ear.

“Rowdy” was actually afraid of heights and could never jump up on anything too high like the kitchen counters, etc. That was fine with us, but he got very nervous if we picked him up and put him up on something high like the table. He was such an easy cat to control.

We have lots of pictures of “Rowdy”, but for some reason we don’t have as many pictures of “Calvin”. We always joked that because “Calvin” was the “middle child”, we didn’t take as many pictures. “Chelsi” came along and we took lots of pictures of her. But, thinking back, “Calvin” was always off by himself somewhere when we were taking pictures. I know he didn’t like a lot of fuss being made. One thing that scared him really bad was plastic shopping bags. If I came home from shopping and started taking things out of the bags, he would make himself scarce.

Rowdy (left) and Calvin
1993 in PA

“Calvin” also never liked “Chelsi”. From the minute we brought her home at 6 weeks old, he was afraid of her. Well, at first it was fear and then it became personal. He hated her. For some reason, “Toby” also didn’t like “Chelsi” or “Sheila”. They were our only cats who felt that way about the dogs.

Calvin and Chelsi
Chelsi's "baby" was on the bed and Calvin "dared" her to take it
1993 in CA

With “Rhody”, we may have a likeness of “Calvin”. No, he’s not afraid of “Sheila”. He’s what we imagined “Calvin” was like when he was a kitten. We could only imagine because “Calvin” was five or six months old when he came to us. “Rhody” has the same spunk though. “Calvin” would set his sights on something and go for it and I see that in “Rhody”. Oh, and I guess it doesn’t hurt that “Rhody” is the same color as “Calvin” was.

“Jonesie” and “Rhody” make a “pretty” couple. We see them together quite a bit. “Rhody” is always looking for someone to be with. He is not a loner. It will be interesting to watch him develop as he gets older. We’ve had him about three weeks now and he sure has grown.

Rhody and Jonesie
July 2011

I was privileged to have "Rhody" on my lap for awhile this morning. He was playing on the floor while I was reading. Finally, like kittens do, he just layed down and was napping. I picked him up and put him on my lap. He was so tired that he stayed. It was nice to have a soft kitten sleeping on my lap. It’s been awhile. None of our cats are “lap cats”. However, in his last year, “Taz” started coming to my lap more and more. I’ll always be grateful that we had that special time together.

I also think that "Jonesie" is getting used to having a little brother around. "Rhody" is growing on him. We give "Jonesie" lots of attention too. We're always picking him up and fussing over him. He likes that.

“Rhody” goes to the vet tomorrow for his booster shots. I will bet that he is going to be almost five pounds, if not already.

More later.......

I get tired of playing a guy who gets into a fight, then starts singing to the guy he`s just beat up. -- Elvis Presley

I was up late last night and I wanted to read a little before going to sleep. Charlie had gone to bed earlier. I didn’t want to turn the light on in our bedroom, so I went to the bedroom upstairs. The radio alarm is set for 6:00am. I’ve never turned it off from when I stayed with Taz in that room.

This morning I awoke to the “Jeff and Jer Show” on a local station. They were talking about “American Idol” doing auditions at Petco Park today. They had sent one of their guys, I’ll call him “Tom”, down to Petco to talk to some of the auditioners. They had also sent a girl there, I’ll call her “Alice”, to register and try to get into an audition. Of course this girl could not sing.

So “Tom” got to the back of the line where “Alice” was and then talked to the crowd, telling them that he was live on the radio with “Jeff and Jer”. Then he asked if anyone was from San Diego and the crowd yelled. Obviously quite a few were from here. So he said, “I want to introduce you to the next “American Idol”, “Alice” so and so, and she’s going to show you what she can do”.

Poor “Alice” had to squeak out her little pitiful song in her little voice and it was the funniest thing to hear. It was all a joke and for show, but we’ve watched “American Idol” and honestly, some of the people who audition, really think they can sing. It’s unbelievable.

It will be interesting to see how many from San Diego make the cuts. The registration was held Wednesday and Thursday and the auditions are today. The auditioners had to be at Petco by 5:00am.

One thing for sure, our weather has just been beautiful for all of this week. It will be nice for those coming from other states. Although we’ve had a little more humidity than we usually have here. But, people coming from places that are usually more humid won’t notice it as much.

It’s been three weeks since we returned home from our RV trip. We decided we’ve had enough time away from it and it’s time to take it in for a post-trip service. Yesterday we took it to our RV Specialists. They will go over it and make sure nothing shook loose and make any repairs needed, change the oil, etc. One thing for sure, they will not have to install a new alternator or fuel pump!

On the 19th, our friends from Palm Springs, Bob and Patti, are coming over to stay with us for a few days. It’s about 108 degrees there. If our nice weather holds up, we want to go to the beach one day. There’s a state park right on the beach and our plan is to take the RV and park it there for the day.

Patti asked if she could bring her little cat, “KK” and I told her it should be fine. Of course, the last time we saw “KK” was when I took “Jonesie” with me when I went to Palm Springs to visit Patti. “KK” was not quite a year old and “Jonesie” was only three months then.

Jonesie and KK
January 2011

I remember walking in and putting him down. He immediately started playing. “KK” sat back and watched for a few minutes. Pretty soon they were chasing each other through the house. We had a nice visit. Patti said that “KK” looked for “Jonesie” after we left. She missed him.

I’m not sure that “KK” will be welcomed here like she was when she was a kitten. She was only a couple of months old when Patti and Bob came over with her and stayed for a couple of days. Jason and “KK” had a ball. He called her his “girl-friend”. It was fun watching them play together.

They’re both older now, so it should be interesting to see if “KK” will be allowed to be out in the house or Patti will have to keep her in their room.

“Jonesie” has changed a little since “Rhody” came. He’s no longer the baby of the two and he has taken on a more mature role. They play together, but he does get tired of the continuous wrestling that “Rhody” wants to do. I saw him hiss at “Rhody” this morning. I didn’t worry about it because I’d like for “Jonesie” to start standing up for himself a little more.

“Jonesie” really never seemed to be jealous before, but now he seems to resent “Rhody” just a little. We give both of them attention. Sometimes when I don’t see “Jonesie” around, I will pick “Rhody” up and talk to him and pet him. Then I look around and there’s “Jonesie”. He has such a “hurt” look on his face like “You used to pick me up like that!” When I try to make up with him, he runs away. But, he finds me later and wants attention.

Taz would never have looked at me with a hurt look on his face. Instead, he would have come right over and made anyone there aware that I belonged to him. “Jonesie” wants to be mine, but he doesn’t have the same personality as Taz had and that’s fine. “Jonesie” is a very sweet cat. I will give him all the attention he’ll take.

More later.......

"No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat, and no amount of masking tape can ever totally remove his fur from your couch." - Leo Dworken

Jason and Jonesie on the condo

When I sit in my chair in our family room watching TV, I look around. There are so many memories here. In the corner is a cat condo, about three feet high. It is carpeted, has a flat top and underneath is a round “barrel”. This is the condo I had in my computer room upstairs where Grady slept at night.

Grady

There was a cat bed on top of the condo for Grady. When I was sitting at my computer, Grady would get up in my chair and lay behind me. I’d reach back and pet him, but sometimes I got busy on the computer and he wanted more attention. Then he would stand up and put his front paws on my back and kneaded his paws like my back was a cat tree. This was our time together.

Taz’s condo used to be in the family room. His condo is about the same height, three feet or so. We bought it for him when we first got him. He was only six weeks old. The top is round with walls. We used to keep Taz’s kitten food in a bowl at the top. Our two older cats at the time, Rowdy and Calvin, never got into the condo. Taz had full access to “his” food all the time.

When Taz died last October, I changed the condos out. I moved Taz’s condo up to my computer room and Grady’s down to the family room.

Now, as I sit here in the family room, the cats are playing in “Grady’s” condo. One of them runs into the barrel to hide. Grady spent lots of hours sleeping in that barrel. He’d sleep in his bed at night and after he had his breakfast, he’d go into the barrel for his morning nap.

I miss the routines we had then. It was so predictable because cats like routines. They can do the same thing every day and never change. But, they are also very adaptable to their new surroundings.

We’ve taken our cats from their daily routines and put them in an RV for two weeks; traveled across the country; moved them into a new house and a totally new environment for two years; put them back into an RV for a month and brought them back across the country to the home we had left two years earlier. They settled right back in as if they had never left.

Of all of our cats, only three were “planned” (“Rowdy”, “Taz” and “Jonesie”), meaning that we actively looked for them. The others came to us through other circumstances, which we were open to.

“Rowdy” was our first. We wanted a cat and went to the animal shelter and adopted him. About three months later, “Calvin” showed up on our patio. We didn’t feed him and hadn’t planned on inviting him in. But, one day a neighbor told us that since “Calvin” didn’t seem to belong to anyone, he was going to call the animal control to catch him. We “invited” “Calvin” in, after he had been on our patio for four months. That was in 1989.

Rowdy (top) and Calvin
Monterey, CA 1989

Somehow, we managed to have only two cats and our dog, Chelsi, until December 1998, when we decided to get a kitten. We adopted a six week old kitten and that was “Taz”. It was very comfortable having three cats and a dog. The cats got along well with each other and all, except “Calvin”, liked the dog. We had a very peaceful house.

Taz (top) and Calvin
2004

“Jezibel”, about six months old, came to us in February 2000. She was a stray who had been staying in the yard of my friend, Mary. She couldn’t keep her, so we took “Jezibel”, thinking that one more cat would be welcome.

But, “Jezibel” came with baggage. In March 2000 she had nine kittens. Seven survived and we raised them, kept three (“Grady”, “Lexi”, and “Ellie”), and gave four (“Panda”, “Pinto”, “Mr. Creme”, and “Toby”) away to friends.

In December 2002, “Toby” and “Mr. Creme” came back to us when their owner moved to Hawaii and couldn’t take them or find a new home for them. We didn’t want them to be taken to the shelter, which was his alternative.

Toby after his bath
4/4/11

Mr. Creme

When Jezibel came to live with us, our peaceful household was turned asunder. She did not like other cats and there was continuous hissing and fitting. Her three resident kittens were just like her. So we went from a peaceful household of three mellow male cats to a chaotic household of seven cats, four who didn’t like each other, much less the three who had opened their house to them! Even so, we loved them all.

We adopted the twins, Jason and Kaci, in 2007. I would have to say that after having so many dysfunctional cats, these appeared to be “normal”– finally. At least the normal that I always knew when I had cats when I was growing up. The twins moved in and played with each other, groomed each other, slept together and just loved to be. They influenced Taz and he accepted them right away. It kind of helped that they looked a little bit like him!

"The Twins"
Jason (left) and Kaci
Yes, I can tell them apart, can you?
8/28/08

"The Baby"
Taz
7/9/08

Jezibel and her “kittens” really didn’t quite know what to think of the twins. They shunned them and hissed at them, but the twins just ignored it and did their thing. They were not the least bit offended.

Jezibel (right) trying to intimidate Jason

Does it look like it's working? Really?

Jason loves the toy his "grandma" gave him in VA
in May 2011

We adopted Jonesie in December 2010. He was also what I call a “normal” cat. He moved right in and headed for the toy box. It all belonged to him. The twins were first taken aback, but it didn’t take them long to figure out that he was the new kid on the block and he wanted to play. That was all they needed to know. They haven’t stopped playing yet.

Our newest one, “Rhody”, seems to fit right in. He and “Jonesie” play and chase each other through the house. “Rhody” is still pretty young and can’t go places yet that the older ones go. I call “Jonesie” my little ‘babysitter’ because he keeps “Rhody” playing and out of trouble. When “Jonesie” needs a break, he goes out into the garage for awhile.

Rhody and Jason

But, we can see that “Rhody” is going to be a handful when he gets big enough to really get into things. Right now, he has no fear of jumping. As little as he is, he will take the biggest jump. Even if he doesn’t make it, he is not afraid of trying again.

If I could have anything I wanted, I think I would have a refuge for cats. I know dogs need help too, and in a perfect world, I’d be able to have both. But, cats seem to be the animals that people think can fend for themselves and so they are let out to live in alleys and streets. They are independent to a certain extent. If they are left alone as a kitten for the first several weeks of their life, they become feral. I’m not sure, but I think that puppies are different. They also need petting and attention when they are young, but they are more forgiving and easier to befriend.

We have several cats, but we take care of each one of them. They get good food, lots of attention, and the medical care they need. It hurts to lose one each time it happens. But, we know that if we’re going to have them, they are going to pass away one day. “Toby” was a recent reminder of that.

His mother, “Jezibel” (12), his sisters, “Lexi” and “Ellie”, and brother, “Mr. Creme”, all 11, seem to be in good health and we hope they stay that way!

Lexi

I took “Ellie” to the vet today for her annual exam. They did a blood test and I’ll get the results tomorrow. The physical went fine though. “Ellie” needed to get more pills for her asthma. If we can keep that under control, she should be okay.

Miss Ellie
(Happy face)

More later.........

"Oh, you wicked, wicked little thing!" cried Alice, catching up the kitten and giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace.

-- Lewis Carroll

Sometime in May while we were on vacation, I received an email from a friend of mine. She had found a tiny kitten in her backyard.

“Found an extremely small and emaciated kitten in a corner of my yard under flowers. My dog Maya kept barking at that corner and I heard meows coming from that direction. I originally thought it was outside the fence and I couldn't see anything. I left the area and heard the kitten again. Juan, my hubby, said he had heard something two days previous, but didn't think much about it. I did a further search in the corner and found the baby.....very scared and very, very skinny. I brought it in and gave it what I had for the cats I have, which is NOT kitten food. Kitten went for it as fast as it could and of course everything came back up that evening in the bedding. Kitten was further emaciated and very weak the next a.m. so I took evaporated milk and started giving it with a dropper full (1 at first and then 2 at a time) about every half hour. Well.....I'm happy to say that little thing after much love and caring is doing just terrific and what a cutie.... I'll let the pictures I send speak for themselves. My hubby refuses to have another cat, but he doesn't mind that I'm getting it up to par to find a good home. I thought of you immediately because I know you love your babies. You would be the perfect new mom so I'm hoping you'll consider adopting it. I think it's a boy, but I'm not a professional and I can't be sure. Maybe you can tell. I'll wait to hear from you and send you pics.”

I didn’t tell Charlie about the email because I really wasn’t sure we could take another kitten. We had always said that “ten” is the limit and we had one more slot before we were there. Of course, we were not trying to make it up to ten, but, I didn’t want this kitten to go to the animal shelter. This is “kitten season” there and he probably wouldn’t be kept long. They euthanize hundreds a week because there is not enough room for more.

So I told my friend that I would like to see him when we got back in a couple of weeks. She said she’d hold him until then and wouldn’t take him to the shelter unless I said no. She kept me updated on his progress and sent pictures of him. I told her I hadn’t talked to Charlie about it yet and to give me a couple of days to do that and I would call her.

We finally got home from our trip on Thursday, June 16. I still hadn’t told Charlie about a possible new kitten. The last few days before getting home had been pretty hectic and stressful because of the problems we’d had with the RV, etc.

Then on Friday, the 17th, our cat Toby was sick and it turned out that he couldn’t be saved. We were very upset about that, of course. The kitten was the farthest thing from my mind right then.

On Saturday morning, I was quietly having my coffee when my friend called me. She wanted to know if we could come over to see the kitten. I told her about Toby and that I’d call her back after talking to Charlie.

I told Charlie about the emails I’d gotten a couple of weeks earlier. Of course he believed me, but to prove it, I showed him the emails and pictures I’d received. Surprisingly, he said “Yes, let’s go see the kitten”. I couldn’t believe it. I called my friend and told her we’d be right over.

We decided to bring the kitten home and try him with the other cats. I named him “Rhody”. I had told my friend that if “Rhody” didn’t work out with us, between she and I, we would find a good home for him. He would not go to the shelter.

I took him to the vet for a checkup, etc. on Sunday. He was 2.9 lbs. and was pronounced healthy.

For the next week, we kept an eye on him and the other cats. He seemed to get along fine. Of course there were hisses, etc., but for the most part, he did his own thing and ignored it. He and “Jonesie”, being the youngest of the cats, became playmates.

"Jonesie" and his "new" little brother, "Rhody"

Me and "Rhody"

Me and "Jonesie"

It is important to me for everyone to know that we did not take this kitten in because “Toby” died. He is not replacing “Toby”. No one could do that. If we had brought “Rhody” home and “Toby” had not died, he’d have been an addition to the family. There’s room for all of them. We’d give anything to still have Toby with us.

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