One Fine Sunday

My friend Scars was very angry at the world when we first met and really wanted to end his life of extreme pain. But he promised his dying mother not to leave his father further bereaved. I wish I could have met Betty, but Scars’ father is a treasure.

In honor of both these chivalrous and delightful men I left my comfort zone (home) and drove north to attend church with them. There, we witnessed Scars’ reconfirmation baptism.

Sitting alone for a bit before the service began, I prompted Paul to tell me travel stories. Scars inherited his storytelling skill, by the way, another reason I so enjoy their company. In fact, I told my husband we should both visit to hear Paul’s tales before his failing health takes him from us.

~sigh~

When Scars was called up to the baptismal pool, Paul said he’d stay where we’d parked his wheelchair despite his son and I each offering to wheel him over. “I’ll keep an eye on his stuff,” he insisted. I didn’t know this until afterward, but he accepted a stranger’s offer, for which I’m very glad. Scars also refuses assistance at almost every turn. Letting me do anything is rewarding.

Unfortunately, Scars’ niece, mother of a five week old boy, couldn’t attend and most of the remaining family lives out of state. That fact and my ability to physically help in small ways multiplied my contentment. One fellow took a photo of us three and there is video of the baptism, too. If my decades ago searches for a church family had led me to a congregation so friendly and not clamoring for membership I would have likely remained a member.

Where I find spirituality...
I am excited to harvest my first eggplant!

Like father, like son, right? And now, do you think I’m in the majority of my contemporaries when I say my garden is my cathedral of choice?

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Dazed and Confused

I went outside in a great mood one morning to check my vegetable plants when I saw a slip of paper fallen from my front doorknob. A city employee left a weed violation warning that totally deflated my good mood. I’ve worked so hard on maintaining a decent yard. And I’m on my own due to my husband’s imbalance issues.

I immediately called and left the inspector a polite message requesting guidance. And I shamelessly played the old lady card, how I alone maintain the property.

Still feeling down and confused, I knew that taking action was an excellent morale booster. Two rare but always amicable neighborly encounters improved my mood before I even started. Then I walked to the north side of our house.

Invasive, fast growing Johnson grass went nuts when I wasn’t looking. I immediately took my electric hedge trimmer and mowed down as much as possible without tumbling down the hill. While the landscape has eroded beyond recognition, the hardest to reach spot is almost exactly where I caught Tilly falling from the neighbor’s tree so long ago.

The inspector called the next afternoon and confirmed my wishful suspicion. My husband was relieved by both the fact we wouldn’t be facing any fine and our vegetables are in no danger.

I need to follow up with weed killer. And keeping this obnoxious grass down demands vigilance.

Can you imagine how worse it would have been if that notice blew away? Is there a particular invasive plant plaguing your area?

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Polly, Don't Change

I wiped up a bit of fur off my comforter and immediately Polly acted interested. The title is what we say to her on a regular basis.

 

Do you think pets act cute on purpose? Can you spot the extra toes on her murder mitten?

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An Amazing Transformation, & One of My Cats is Next...

The spot on his pretty white skull cap is so unique...

The Girl with the Dogs is an awesome pet groomer I’ve mentioned before. A recent video featured this Alaskan Malamute. His undercoat was a disaster. By the time she finished blowing out loose fur there was enough to create a life sized model.

The change looks subtle; it was not...

It’s transfixing to watch and she says the process is almost as rewarding as the outcome. She wears what looks like a beekeeper’s hood until time for final brushing. The big baby’s whines also required her to don hearing protection and caused me to lower the TV volume.

Meanwhile I plan on transforming Dandelion. She has this super dense, almost microfiber layer that’s shedding like crazy. The stuff leaves snowdrifts on the carpet when she scratches herself. I don’t mind that so much as how it these fibers cover all textiles inside and out. When I’m sweating out in the garden and wipe my face on my sleeve… well… minor miseries commence. As soon as I can book an appointment with our pet groomer this girl is getting shaved down to her adorable pink hide.

Can you believe that huskies and malamutes are some of the whiniest drama queens? Have you seen any videos of their antics?

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Happy 250th Birthday, United States of America!

I am in awe of the celebrations going on around our great nation. What I find most stunning is the drone display.

I did a screen shot off YouTube & plan to watch in entirety...

A friend sent me a cute message this morning: hoppie birdie, USA! Meanwhile, I wish blessings upon everyone, especially those living in war torn lands.

Are you enjoying a nice Saturday wherever you are? -

The Most Recent Crisis Averted: Terra

I can’t believe an entire week has passed since my last post. I’ve been meaning to share this story as it kicked off my entire little series, so here goes.

As on many lazy afternoons I lay across my bed flipping a wand toy for Terra to chase. All of a sudden she let out an ear piercing scream. She allowed me to pick her up and put her on the mattress but struggled hard, hissing and growling.

The toy came with her and I soon saw why. Apparently she stepped on the clasp just so, opening it long enough to trap a toe. I ended up cupping her face with my left hand to keep from accidentally getting bitten.

We have played with this since, just not anymore that day...

The pain must have been excruciating. Not wanting to leave her like that for even a moment, I couldn’t reach out for help as my husband was asleep and would never hear me calling. Dandelion approached as I fought to free my girl. And finally, somehow, I did. After a mere moment Terra acted as if nothing had happened.

Do you think Dandelion was concerned or just curious? And how lucky is it that neither Terra nor I bled as a result of the melee?

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Crisis Averted, Part Two: Jezebel

All our kitties’ outdoor adventures ended after I saw what looked like rice on Jezebel’s backside. The same vet who cared for both Tilly and Luna confirmed a tapeworm infestation. Back home I vacuumed every crack and crevice of furniture and carpeting and made my decree.

I don’t know how sick she could have gotten left untreated but am grateful I got her an appointment so fast. Quite a scamp in her youth, she jumped up onto our fireplace mantel (!) numerous times. She broke a candle holder once and found the catnip bag ‘hidden’ up there on another occasion. ~rolls eyes~ We returned home from someplace or other to find the herb scattered all over the carpet and three very stoned cats. My saddest casualty was a beautiful Christmas cactus knocked down and broken to pieces.

Even when fading away she continued enjoying
many favorite lounging spots.

A focal point of our entryway destroyed, at least it landed on linoleum. She’d been found by friends a few blocks away as an older kitten and lived a long, long, easy life. Inevitably her body became frail and thin but we believe that adopting Terra and Polly invigorated her until old age overtook our sweetie. I have video of my husband hand feeding all three treats and Jezzy was very much engaged.

Why do graceful felines sometimes become the proverbial bull in a China shop? Can you guess I wouldn’t have wanted Jezebel any other way?

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Crisis Averted, Part One: Tilly

With a little more than a quarter century of pet stewardship, I’ve seen several close calls. I didn’t intend this to be a series on my silly blog, let alone a string of eulogies, but an event Thursday afternoon started me thinking. And here it is. I hope it’s not too tedious.

Tilly was especially adept at proving cats have nine lives, especially when we hadn’t yet learned not to let our cats outside. One day she got scared up a tree by a German shepherd. I didn’t realize this fact until walking onto our second story deck, noticing her high above next door, and then seeing the dog.

I quickly descended our stairs and stood on uneven ground at the base of said tree encouraging her to climb down. Holding a towel intended to cuddle and comfort her once safe on the ground, instead I watched horrified as she slipped and fell. In the blink of an eye I somehow turned the towel into a safety net and caught her without us tumbling down the slope.

Another time we were out having breakfast with my parents when an ominous feeling sent my husband racing home. He found Tilly downstairs with a deep throat slash and raced her to our veterinary clinic. Bless him, he likely saved her from bleeding out. To this day we don’t know what happened. All three had been outside the day before and came inside seeming fine, so perhaps Jezebel accidentally snagged her neck during a rough overnight wrestling bout. How even a razor sharp claw could cut through Tilly’s thick wooly coat… again, we have no clue, but something did.

Our sleepy old girl with slowly balding hindquarters...

Tilly lived until the end of 2019 and died peacefully at home before our sorrowfully planned euthanasia. What amazes us to this day is that she ran to jump into my husband’s lap the night before passing away. Our loveable goof lived to twenty plus years of age, her health only failing in the last few months.

Is it not bittersweet when a pet passes like that? And isn’t it sad that my husband never experienced this before Tilly?

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