Miss Vixen's Misadventures - Contemplating the Disposal

Most recently I found little Miss Vixen in the sink. She seems to be spending a heck of a lot of time there. In theory cats don't like water - but I think this is a bit of a myth any cat owner will tell you.
I still can't figure out the fascination with the sink but it lies in part with the disposal. She will gaze into it for what seems like forever. I know she's been in there because the black rubbery-do-hickie is all pulled out.
So I resist the temptation to turn on the water... I don't scoot her out... Unlike the other stuff she's getting into this is pretty harmless... And kinda cute.

Run Like The Wind... (8 minutes at a time...)

Yep. That's right folks. I'm running again. I'm up to eight whole minutes. Again.
Don't get me wrong, this is a victory like no other- I'm in almost no pain at all. I can bang out between 8 and 10 minute miles.
The best part of it all is running during Christmas time with the Black Dog. We go through neighborhoods and check out lights. It breaks up our normal routes and gives us both something new and fresh.
Last year the last run we had was a night run, looking at lights... It was painful, it was cold and long. This year they feel drag, it's crisp... And short... But I'll take it.

The Misadventures of Miss Vixen - Chapter 1

Who would have guessed?

A lazy Saturday afternoon. I'd already run, I did a bike ride. I was kicking back and watching some football. I was snuggled down on the couch and I hear a rustle. I look over and Vixen is climbing the grate over the fireplace.

 

After removing her from that (which was by no means easy), I settled back down onto the couch. I didn't hear from the little kitty...which isn't a good thing. I tell myself she's fast asleep. I tell myself she is in the bedroom watching birds and squirrels.

Lies. All lies. Again, a soft rustling... and she has managed to get herself *in* the fireplace.

 

WTF?

How did she get IN the fireplace? And how the hell do I get her OUT?

I removed the grate and dug the kitty out. She wasn't too dirty...

This wasn't her last tangle with the fireplace, so she is either fascinated or a slow learner. Her increase in weight, however, has changed things a bit. Most recently she toppled the fireplace grate and scared the shit out of herself and Bailey.

We haven't seen the last of this little ball of puff... stay tuned... she's a hand full.

Everything Happens for a Reason

Two weeks before Reese died, this little thing showed up under my car...

She had some worms... but otherwise she is completely fine. Bailey loves her. Well. Sometimes. They play together and she knaws on Baiely's tail. Sometimes her sharp litttle teeth bite too hard and Bailey lets her know about it.

She's a handful... she's into everything but she is very, very sweet.

Her name is Vixen... stay tuned.

 

 

Love's Inverse Proportions

I'm finally writing about this.

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The love of my life died very suddenly on September 18th. I still move back and forth between guilt and sadness. To paraphrase my vet, Reese *should* be home with me now and *should* have gone home that night like the people at the emergency vet said. However, Reese presented with asthma symptoms but took turns no one expected - what happened was very, very rare.

When she had her the first seizure (the first "neurological event") Dr. Dunagan said most animals are treated and go home either not to have other seizures again or not for some time. It was almost unheard of for her to have another immediately after  - particularly a grand mal seizure. Again, after the second seizure, she should have been treated and sent home (not immediately... but after a little time).... for her to arrest (her heart to stop) almost never happens.

Intellectually I understand I can't control anything neurological. I understand it wasn't my fault this happened - and I can see the sequence of events... Had I not taken her to the vet, she would have died at home and I would forever blame myself for not taking her in. I still don't understand why I didn't get to say goodbye.

But I do understand several things...

I understand she loved me completely. I understand I valued every day with her. I remember mornings on the couch together - meditating and drinking coffee (she would head-butt my coffee cup and cuddle under the blanket) and thinking to myself, "these are the days I'll cherish when she's gone." I understand she taught me how to love unconditionally. She taught me about loving what is. She taught me about caring completely and totally for something and putting myself second.

I always expect the big things in my life to mean so much. New Years and birthdays should be spectacular, but rarely meet those expectations. But she was so little and brought so much. Her love and what she brought to my life is inversely proportional to her size.