This is our third month in our new apartment, and the kitties seem to like being here as much as I do.
The back porch affords Sabrina the opportunity to feel as if she is outside, though the slightest sound of a truck, dog, or person sends her running back inside. She doesn't hide in the closets as much, but seems to prefer relaxing on the couch that a friend gave to us.
Both kitties are appreciative of "their" new couch. Occasionally they will curl up in the recliner, which was also a gift. They like the coffee table, because they can get from one piece of furniture to the next, and the end table near the door is a favorite of Tabby's, who likes to jump on it every time he is ready to go outside. (He started doing that at my father and stepmother's house - he would jump near the television to get my attention. Bonnie would scold him, but being a cat, he would do it anyway.) I suppose I should be stricter with "my" furniture, but I was so happy that we could all relax in the living room that I didn't really think about it until it was too late, and if I were to become strict now I would feel like a scrooge. (It's December... the word seemed to fit). I had previously given my couch to my daughter, so for a time I had to use a folding chair if I wanted to watch television. In contrast, the couch and recliner seem like luxuries now... and the kitties seem to think so too.
Tabby rested on the recliner tonight after his ordeal of being stuck on the office roof. It was about 8 feet to the ground, but he seemed afraid to jump, (I think he may have arthritis, since he is 12 now) and so he was stuck in the dark for a couple of hours, getting raindrops on him when he would come over to me and then huddling in a corner until I could find help. My newest neighbor has a tall boyfriend, and she asked him to help me out. He coaxed Tabby down, who backed up for a moment, and then allowed her boyfriend to pet him. He was a bit frightened when he picked him up, and my new neighbor said, "Don't worry, buddy... I won't hurt you." Tabby was shaking a bit when he handed him to me... he clearly didn't enjoy being on the roof for so long. It doesn't surprise me that my new neighbors are friendly; everyone I've met so far has been that way. I think my apartment manager is careful about who moves in.
My next door neighbor rescued Tabby when he ran outside on a cold night, just as I was heading to a Christmas party. I warned him that he would be sorry but (being a cat) he ran away from me. I had no choice to leave him outside, because my friend was there to pick me up.
A few hours later when I came home, I saw a note placed under my doormat. I guess Tabby realized that I wasn't coming home anytime soon, and so began crying pitifully at my neighbor's door, remembering that he had allowed him into his apartment one time.
Tabby was given salmon and the use of his recliner, but did seem a little chagrined when I picked him up and carried him home, thanking my neighbor for his kindness while gently scolding my kitty ("I told you that you would get cold"). My neighbor recently went through a break up, and used to like petting Tabby on the steps on warmer days. He told me when I saw him last that he misses his dog and so enjoys Tabby's company, but I haven't decided if I should say that he can "borrow" my cat (since Tabby isn't outside as much these days), or how we would work that out if he did. I've never actually loaned out my cat before...
Tonight before he was rescued I was fretting about how I would get him down... would he catch a cold in the rain before someone could help? Its not like I could run to the store for a ladder, though I may need to invest in one if he ever tries this again. Sabrina, too, seemed worried that her brother wasn't coming in. For some reason Tabby has been very good to come in each night before it gets dark. Sabrina knows his routine, and kept meowing at me to find Tabby.
Now he is safely inside, and the kitties are curled up; Sabrina on the couch, and Tabby in the recliner. Since its time for me to go to bed, I will turn off the light in the living room. Sabrina will follow me to my bedroom, because it will be her time to snuggle with me, until I'm finished reading and I turn out the light. She will purr loudly and act as if its the most special thing in the world, to cuddle... and after that she will sleep on her own for the rest of the night. She has her routine. Tabby will occasionally join us. I know he was there the other night, when my foot must have come out of the covers and near his face, because he gently nuzzled on my toe to warn me.
Tabby is home... and so I will be able to fall fast asleep.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Enjoying our new home
The kitties and I have a new home. We are living in a cozy apartment that is quiet, has a supportive manager and friendly neighbors.
Our move was unexpected... My roommate was not taking her medication properly and in the middle of a manic episode suddenly kicked me out and left me and my two kitties homeless. I had twenty dollars in my purse at the time. I was fortunate enough to stay with the friend who witnessed the entire episode, along with another person until I could sell my vehicle and use the money to move into an apartment.
On the one hand I miss my car, but on the other hand I am thankful that it was paid for and that I was able to sell it and acquire the needed cash to find a home.
Sabrina was a bit depressed after I moved out of the trailer and was only able to visit her once a day. She began avoiding me and running away when I would attempt to pet her. She thought I had abandoned her, and I had no way of explaining that it wasn't something I had meant to do. However, the first night we were reunited, she stayed close to me and purred as we snuggled together. The next day she had fun exploring the many closets, and decided that it was safe enough to venture out onto the back porch.
Tabby has always been an indoor/outdoor cat, and soon began to check out the neighborhood. A certain barking dog enclosed on the patio to the right of our building established a boundary line that Tabby chose not to cross. He ventures to the left of our home, near the managers yard and occasionally visiting the pool area near the laundry room. I've noticed that its a favorite spot for squirrels and birds who are looking for a quiet place to explore. Tabby soon got to know our immediate neighbors, allowing them to pet him as he relaxes on the stairs. My apartment manager allowed him to put his nose inside her back porch door to see inside, and my next door neighbor allowed him to come in for a look around. Tabby is a friendly cat and always seems to adopt the neighbors wherever we go.
I invited my next door neighbor to peek inside the living room at Sabrina, who was lounging by the window, and she promptly ran to the back of the house, the little scaredy cat. Most of my neighbors don't even realize that I have a second cat, because they never see her. She would like to go outside at night, but I haven't allowed her to. I'm trying to teach her that if she wants to explore, it will have to be during the daytime.
I've been enjoying having my own kitchen and my own place to decorate. It has been fun to find needed items for my apartment, and to enjoy the comfort of central heat and air. Its never too hot, and its never too cold. Like Goldilocks once said, "It's just right".
This will be a good home for us, and I hope that we will stay here for a while. I am thankful to God who, when a former friend betrayed me, remained faithful and good to me and my two kitties.
Our move was unexpected... My roommate was not taking her medication properly and in the middle of a manic episode suddenly kicked me out and left me and my two kitties homeless. I had twenty dollars in my purse at the time. I was fortunate enough to stay with the friend who witnessed the entire episode, along with another person until I could sell my vehicle and use the money to move into an apartment.
On the one hand I miss my car, but on the other hand I am thankful that it was paid for and that I was able to sell it and acquire the needed cash to find a home.
Sabrina was a bit depressed after I moved out of the trailer and was only able to visit her once a day. She began avoiding me and running away when I would attempt to pet her. She thought I had abandoned her, and I had no way of explaining that it wasn't something I had meant to do. However, the first night we were reunited, she stayed close to me and purred as we snuggled together. The next day she had fun exploring the many closets, and decided that it was safe enough to venture out onto the back porch.
Tabby has always been an indoor/outdoor cat, and soon began to check out the neighborhood. A certain barking dog enclosed on the patio to the right of our building established a boundary line that Tabby chose not to cross. He ventures to the left of our home, near the managers yard and occasionally visiting the pool area near the laundry room. I've noticed that its a favorite spot for squirrels and birds who are looking for a quiet place to explore. Tabby soon got to know our immediate neighbors, allowing them to pet him as he relaxes on the stairs. My apartment manager allowed him to put his nose inside her back porch door to see inside, and my next door neighbor allowed him to come in for a look around. Tabby is a friendly cat and always seems to adopt the neighbors wherever we go.
I invited my next door neighbor to peek inside the living room at Sabrina, who was lounging by the window, and she promptly ran to the back of the house, the little scaredy cat. Most of my neighbors don't even realize that I have a second cat, because they never see her. She would like to go outside at night, but I haven't allowed her to. I'm trying to teach her that if she wants to explore, it will have to be during the daytime.
I've been enjoying having my own kitchen and my own place to decorate. It has been fun to find needed items for my apartment, and to enjoy the comfort of central heat and air. Its never too hot, and its never too cold. Like Goldilocks once said, "It's just right".
This will be a good home for us, and I hope that we will stay here for a while. I am thankful to God who, when a former friend betrayed me, remained faithful and good to me and my two kitties.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Good kitties
My stepmother would shake her head when I would talk to my cats, saying, "You know that they can't understand you..." I told her that I have always been very intuitive with my pets, and that they seem to understand more than people give them credit for.
I used to have a cat named Mr. Penny, who was more like a friend to me than a pet. Sometimes I would be in my room with friends, and he would come to the door and glance at me. I would then say, "He needs more food" or "he wants to go outside." They would ask in amazement, "How do you know that?" and I would shrug and say, "Oh, I know my cat."
Once while we were living in the house in Citrus Heights, I gasped, thinking that I had seen a mouse. (I've had pet mice before, but am not thrilled by rodents who might have rabies). I realized that it was only Sabrina and Tabby's pet toy. They glanced at me (as if to ask if I was okay) and I laughed, saying, "Thank goodness it wasn't real."
Then I looked at them and said solemnly, "Okay you two... if a rat ever tries to get inside this house, I want you to stop him before he ever can." They seemed to be listening intently, but I laughed and shook my head, thinking, "As if they could understand me..."
I let them go outside into the backyard, and 20 minutes later, my mouth dropped open in surprise. There, on the threshold, was a dead rat.
I looked at my cats, who seemed to be proud of themselves, saying, "We did what you asked us to." I couldn't be sure that it had simply been a coincidence and so I patted them on the heads, saying, "Good kitties."
Then, unfortunately, it was my job to dispose of the rat. Ugh! At least he hadn't gotten inside the house...
I used to have a cat named Mr. Penny, who was more like a friend to me than a pet. Sometimes I would be in my room with friends, and he would come to the door and glance at me. I would then say, "He needs more food" or "he wants to go outside." They would ask in amazement, "How do you know that?" and I would shrug and say, "Oh, I know my cat."
Once while we were living in the house in Citrus Heights, I gasped, thinking that I had seen a mouse. (I've had pet mice before, but am not thrilled by rodents who might have rabies). I realized that it was only Sabrina and Tabby's pet toy. They glanced at me (as if to ask if I was okay) and I laughed, saying, "Thank goodness it wasn't real."
Then I looked at them and said solemnly, "Okay you two... if a rat ever tries to get inside this house, I want you to stop him before he ever can." They seemed to be listening intently, but I laughed and shook my head, thinking, "As if they could understand me..."
I let them go outside into the backyard, and 20 minutes later, my mouth dropped open in surprise. There, on the threshold, was a dead rat.
I looked at my cats, who seemed to be proud of themselves, saying, "We did what you asked us to." I couldn't be sure that it had simply been a coincidence and so I patted them on the heads, saying, "Good kitties."
Then, unfortunately, it was my job to dispose of the rat. Ugh! At least he hadn't gotten inside the house...
Naughty kitty
My cats are typically well behaved, but sometimes they are disobedient. Frankly they sometimes listen... like a cat.
They were born in the bushes, and a neighbor girl brought them to me when they were only around 4 weeks old. I took them to the store to buy milk - only until I could take them to the animal shelter. I placed them in a basket and after buying a couple of items, opened it up and saw them curled up together, glancing up at me. I thought, "Oh no... I'm hooked", and ended up buying toys and other items for my new kittens. Once I bottle fed them, and heard their meows with the milk flowing down their face, I knew for sure that I was in for the long haul.
Tabby is the brother to Sabrina, and has always had an independent streak. When he was only about 7 weeks old, he ran through the front door when someone opened it. He learned quickly that we didn't want him to go outside, so he would climb a tree and stay just out of my reach in order to obtain a bit of freedom. He didn't know how to get down, and so a neighbor girl (the one who gave them to me) would have to rescue them. Soon Sabrina would follow her brother out the door, and I would have two kitties in a tree who didn't know how to get down.
Once a hawk flew overhead when Tabby was stuck, and I prayed, "Oh God, please save my foolish kitty. I couldn't bear to see him carried away by a bird." He was saved from harm, but another time when I was able to grab him, he had a bit of fur plucked away by a bird who got a bit too close. Tabby survived his escapades and soon became a friend to many of the neighbors in our apartment. He was a small kitty, but would take on any alley cat who attempted to come into the yard. Yet a mama kitty - half the size of him - earned his respect when he got too close, and she bopped him on the nose. My cat - who wasn't afraid of bigger tom cats - learned to stay a respectful distance from her.
Tabby still loves to go outside, and will come inside periodically. Yet when the sun starts to go down, he will run off if I call him, and kind of look at me as if to say, "You can't catch me." And it's true. I wouldn't be able to. (I've tried, and it only frustrated me.)
When we lived in Kansas he learned to come inside during a thunderstorm, though a few times he seemed to feel brave enough to hide under some bushes.
During a recent California storm, my roommate called for him frantically. I'm sure that he was thinking, "What's the big deal? That distant thunder doesn't frighten me."
Our first winter in Kansas he was startled by the snow on the porch, and tried to shake it off his paw after he ran back inside. He glanced at me as if asking me to please get rid of the snow so that he could go outside. I told him that I couldn't do that, and he would have to wait for it to melt. He never went outside during snow days, but would look longingly out the window until he could explore the outside again.
The next winter he happened to see a rabbit hopping through the snow. He decided that if the rabbit could do it, so could he. I was surprised to see him walk gingerly down the steps, jumping onto some bricks, and then somehow finding a spot under a bush without any snow. He would stay outside for about twenty minutes at a time and then come back in.
Now that we are back in California, he seems to feel that just about any weather is okay to venture out into. About the only thing that stops him is a stronger wind, usually if accompanied by heavier rain.
Tabby still tries to run off at night, and if he ever comes in late I'm sure to keep him in for a longer time in the morning. I tell him that he has to say he is sorry for being naughty, and he will then nuzzle my hand and give me kisses. I know it's an act, but he has to show at least some humility before I will let him out again. Sometimes he will even come in on his own, in order to ensure a bright and early start the next day. He is allowed to wake me in the morning (which he does by sitting very close and staring into my eyes until I look at him) but only if he has behaved himself the night before. Otherwise, he knows that I will simply ignore him, and so he lets me sleep in.
They were born in the bushes, and a neighbor girl brought them to me when they were only around 4 weeks old. I took them to the store to buy milk - only until I could take them to the animal shelter. I placed them in a basket and after buying a couple of items, opened it up and saw them curled up together, glancing up at me. I thought, "Oh no... I'm hooked", and ended up buying toys and other items for my new kittens. Once I bottle fed them, and heard their meows with the milk flowing down their face, I knew for sure that I was in for the long haul.
Tabby is the brother to Sabrina, and has always had an independent streak. When he was only about 7 weeks old, he ran through the front door when someone opened it. He learned quickly that we didn't want him to go outside, so he would climb a tree and stay just out of my reach in order to obtain a bit of freedom. He didn't know how to get down, and so a neighbor girl (the one who gave them to me) would have to rescue them. Soon Sabrina would follow her brother out the door, and I would have two kitties in a tree who didn't know how to get down.
Once a hawk flew overhead when Tabby was stuck, and I prayed, "Oh God, please save my foolish kitty. I couldn't bear to see him carried away by a bird." He was saved from harm, but another time when I was able to grab him, he had a bit of fur plucked away by a bird who got a bit too close. Tabby survived his escapades and soon became a friend to many of the neighbors in our apartment. He was a small kitty, but would take on any alley cat who attempted to come into the yard. Yet a mama kitty - half the size of him - earned his respect when he got too close, and she bopped him on the nose. My cat - who wasn't afraid of bigger tom cats - learned to stay a respectful distance from her.
Tabby still loves to go outside, and will come inside periodically. Yet when the sun starts to go down, he will run off if I call him, and kind of look at me as if to say, "You can't catch me." And it's true. I wouldn't be able to. (I've tried, and it only frustrated me.)
When we lived in Kansas he learned to come inside during a thunderstorm, though a few times he seemed to feel brave enough to hide under some bushes.
During a recent California storm, my roommate called for him frantically. I'm sure that he was thinking, "What's the big deal? That distant thunder doesn't frighten me."
Our first winter in Kansas he was startled by the snow on the porch, and tried to shake it off his paw after he ran back inside. He glanced at me as if asking me to please get rid of the snow so that he could go outside. I told him that I couldn't do that, and he would have to wait for it to melt. He never went outside during snow days, but would look longingly out the window until he could explore the outside again.
The next winter he happened to see a rabbit hopping through the snow. He decided that if the rabbit could do it, so could he. I was surprised to see him walk gingerly down the steps, jumping onto some bricks, and then somehow finding a spot under a bush without any snow. He would stay outside for about twenty minutes at a time and then come back in.
Now that we are back in California, he seems to feel that just about any weather is okay to venture out into. About the only thing that stops him is a stronger wind, usually if accompanied by heavier rain.
Tabby still tries to run off at night, and if he ever comes in late I'm sure to keep him in for a longer time in the morning. I tell him that he has to say he is sorry for being naughty, and he will then nuzzle my hand and give me kisses. I know it's an act, but he has to show at least some humility before I will let him out again. Sometimes he will even come in on his own, in order to ensure a bright and early start the next day. He is allowed to wake me in the morning (which he does by sitting very close and staring into my eyes until I look at him) but only if he has behaved himself the night before. Otherwise, he knows that I will simply ignore him, and so he lets me sleep in.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Back home again
I'm back home again, and grateful to be here.
I can't easily explain the turn of events that led me here. Things changed at work: my nice boss relocated, a new (indifferent) boss took his place, and suddenly through a series of unfortunate events, I found myself unemployed. Sometimes God has a way of closing one door if he is ready to open another. At any rate, I took advantage of my new "free time" and chose to come home. I packed up my kitties and set out for California again. I will miss seeing my Kansas family, but it is so good to be near my kids again.
Can you imagine the anticipation I felt as I saw the "Sacramento, 328 miles" (or whatever it says) sign post in Nevada? I remembered from previous experiences that the Nevada side is brown and then things suddenly turn green in California. The sun was just beginning to set as I drove through the Sierras, and into the state that I have grown to love. I wished I had time to stop in Lake Tahoe to admire the beauty of the pine trees, and the lake, but I had to keep going before it became too dark. I said to my kitties, "We're almost there..." and they looked at me quizzically through their cages. They had traveled enough to know that when it became dark we would find a place to settle down for the night.
For a few days after we arrived at my roommate's trailer, they kept looking at me as if to say, "Will we be going again?" They kept expecting me to put them in their turquoise cat carriers. Finally they realized that we were here to stay.
Hugging my kids again was the greatest thing. For any parent who has lost a child (or I suppose for anyone who has lost someone that they love), its the never being able to do certain things with them again that hurts the most. I can't hug Jeremiah again until I'm in heaven, though I will always remember his last, enthusiastic embrace that he shared with me. I had stopped by his father's house to say hello, and he ran out of the front door to me with a big smile on his face, with his eyes lit up in love.
I had shared a letter with him, challenging him to take his hurts and frustrations to the God he used to walk with so closely. He read my letter, and it seemed that he had taken my advice. The change in his countenance was very apparent. When he came over to me that last night, his eyes were shining, just as they did in a portrait of him as a small child, when they shone in innocence and pure delight.
I marveled at how beautiful he was, and the joy that I could see in his eyes. I said, "You did what I asked you to do..." He nodded his head in affirmation, with a smile, and then gave me a hug, saying, "I love you, Mom." My last moment with him, forever etched into my heart and mind.
And so yes (as I blink away the tears that are pooling in my eyes), I was able to come home to Bethany and Joshua, and had the opportunity to hug them again. Life's pleasures are truly the simplest ones, aren't they?
I wonder what God has planned for me. It must be something big, because he certainly has given me time to prepare for it.
I look forward to sharing my adventures with those who care about me, as they unfold.
God is good...no matter what.
I can't easily explain the turn of events that led me here. Things changed at work: my nice boss relocated, a new (indifferent) boss took his place, and suddenly through a series of unfortunate events, I found myself unemployed. Sometimes God has a way of closing one door if he is ready to open another. At any rate, I took advantage of my new "free time" and chose to come home. I packed up my kitties and set out for California again. I will miss seeing my Kansas family, but it is so good to be near my kids again.
Can you imagine the anticipation I felt as I saw the "Sacramento, 328 miles" (or whatever it says) sign post in Nevada? I remembered from previous experiences that the Nevada side is brown and then things suddenly turn green in California. The sun was just beginning to set as I drove through the Sierras, and into the state that I have grown to love. I wished I had time to stop in Lake Tahoe to admire the beauty of the pine trees, and the lake, but I had to keep going before it became too dark. I said to my kitties, "We're almost there..." and they looked at me quizzically through their cages. They had traveled enough to know that when it became dark we would find a place to settle down for the night.
For a few days after we arrived at my roommate's trailer, they kept looking at me as if to say, "Will we be going again?" They kept expecting me to put them in their turquoise cat carriers. Finally they realized that we were here to stay.
Hugging my kids again was the greatest thing. For any parent who has lost a child (or I suppose for anyone who has lost someone that they love), its the never being able to do certain things with them again that hurts the most. I can't hug Jeremiah again until I'm in heaven, though I will always remember his last, enthusiastic embrace that he shared with me. I had stopped by his father's house to say hello, and he ran out of the front door to me with a big smile on his face, with his eyes lit up in love.
I had shared a letter with him, challenging him to take his hurts and frustrations to the God he used to walk with so closely. He read my letter, and it seemed that he had taken my advice. The change in his countenance was very apparent. When he came over to me that last night, his eyes were shining, just as they did in a portrait of him as a small child, when they shone in innocence and pure delight.
I marveled at how beautiful he was, and the joy that I could see in his eyes. I said, "You did what I asked you to do..." He nodded his head in affirmation, with a smile, and then gave me a hug, saying, "I love you, Mom." My last moment with him, forever etched into my heart and mind.
And so yes (as I blink away the tears that are pooling in my eyes), I was able to come home to Bethany and Joshua, and had the opportunity to hug them again. Life's pleasures are truly the simplest ones, aren't they?
I wonder what God has planned for me. It must be something big, because he certainly has given me time to prepare for it.
I look forward to sharing my adventures with those who care about me, as they unfold.
God is good...no matter what.
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