Yes, I'm a Crazy Cat Lady (and Proud of It)

We all know the stereotype - single, middle aged, female with cats.  The title of crazy cat lady is not meant to flatter; the emphasis is usually on the adjective "crazy".

I am single, of a certain age, and I do have two cats that I adopted from The Marshmallow Foundation in Detroit Lakes.  What makes me crazy is that I volunteer my time at the very same shelter!

Friends tell me that they don't understand how I can do it.  "It's so sad", they say.

And sometimes it is.  Today was one of those days.  Yunger, one of the more affectionate cats, has been sick for several weeks with what was thought to be an upper respiratory infection, which is very common in shelter cats and equivelent to the common cold.  He's been to the Vet a couple of times and been treated with antibiotics with no improvement.  He has lost a lot of weight, and can no longer stand or sit.  Still, when I opened the door to his kennel, he greeted me with a virtually silent meow, and struggled to find his balance long enough to put his paws on my chest to be picked up.  I held him several times today, walking around the room petting him, scratching him behind the ears and telling him what a good cat he was.  He would push his nose against my cheek telling me that he heard me.

But comforting a dying cat isn't the really sad part.  Knowing that if the foundation had more donations, Yunger would be in the hospital right now getting fluids, medication, and the necessary diagnostic tests is the truly tragic story.  The wonderful employees and volunteers are even now trying to find transport for Yunger to the Twin Cities, which is the closest veterinary clinic found that would offer no cost or low cost emergency treatment.

Yes, today was a sad day.  But knowing that I was there to offer a little kindness to one of God's precious creatures made my decision to volunteer at the animal shelter an easy one.

**Happy Update:  Yunger made it to Gregory's Gift of Hope, in New Richmond, WI  and is in the arms of caring humans who have the funds to help him.  He's not out of the woods, and his vet bill for one night is already $1200.  If you'd like to donate,  they accept Paypal.

This is What Happy Looks Like

I caught my brother in an exceptionally good mood Friday night, and told him how much I'd like to bring Filly and Lee home (Meep is in a foster home, and thriving there).

"I don't care", he said.  I asked him again, knowing that he was not a fan of cats.  And the answer stayed the same.  Even though we were in public, my eyes got watery enough for the bartender to ask me if I was okay.  I was better than okay.

I didn't realize how lonely I had been since Grace died.  Yes, I'm living with my brother and sister-in-law, and we're having a good time reconnecting with each other.  But there was something missing.

Yesterday I brought Lee and Filly home.  Lee's name has been changed to Leo, although I still call him Lee, and Filly is Abby, although that might be changed to Maggie May.  They both have an upper respiratory infection, which means lots of wet sneezes and goopy eyes and noses.  They're busy exploring; this morning I found Leo on my brother and sister-in-law's bed, happily climbing on my brother to wake him up.  I think a baby gate is in order - nobody likes to be woken up early on a Sunday!  I lived with senior cats for so long I've forgotten what it's like to have kittens, with their rambunctious antics like launching themselves through the air in the middle of the night only to land on your head.

Last night when I went to bed, they both followed me, and immediately settled down; Lee at the foot of the bed, and Filly next to my face.  She wrapped both paws around my neck, and fell asleep with her face on my cheek.  Did I mention that they chose me?

I'm hoping that my house will be move-in ready in 4 weeks.  Drywall taping and texturing is , happening, and after that the flooring and cabinets can go in.  I picked out my paint colors Friday, and my home will be a riot of color - no bland boring white for me!

And tomorrow is the end of the option period for my house in Texas.  They've had it inspected, and so far, no word on more repairs.  There's a water leak somewhere; my water bill went from $49 to $206 in a month.  My only hope is that it was caused by the sewer repair and they take care of it.  But if all goes well, we'll close by December 7th, the day that will indeed live in infamy for me.  Sounds like my Mom's house won't close until then either, since the buyer finally admitted that he hadn't contacted the bank until last week (it's been under contract for 2 months).

So my luck is due for some improving in 2016.  And I think that the two adorable little purring creatures that entered my life yesterday might be a good way to kick that off.

Something Bigger Than Me

Anyone who is friends with me on Facebook knows what an incredibly crappy year I've had.  Totally first world problems, but nonetheless, I've been a stressball all year.  And when Gracie, my cat died, I broke a little.  There are pieces of my heart scattered throughout the universe, never to be found again.

Just like I've done when my other beloved cats died, I went to work.  Physical labor helps me to not forget exactly, but to focus my grief on something I can control.  When Maalea died, I dug a pond in 2 days in the heavy clay Texas soil.  With Sydney, it was a garden in Minnesota on land that used to be a gravel pit.  And so with Grace I needed to find an outlet too.  Enter the animal shelter, with the 50 pound bags of litter, the knee crushing concrete floor, and the insistent meows of 80 cats and kittens wanting to be fed.

I've always known that after my last Texas cat died I'd start over again, with 2 kittens.  And unlike all of my previous cats, who chose me by showing up at my doorstep, I thought that this time I'd choose them.  After all, getting a kitten is a potential 20 year committment, and I wanted to make sure that I chose a kitten that was beautiful, sweet, and healthy.

And God laughed.  I can keep telling myself that I chose them, but the fact of the matter is, Lee, Filly, and Meep chose me.  They crawled into my arms and into my heart at the same time.  Some people say that our pets will reincarnate and come back to us over and over again.  I don't know if that's true, but that broken piece of my heart has a scab on it now, and while it will never completely heal, it's whole enough to love again.  Are they beautiful?  To me they are, although Meep has a cataract in one eye, Filly has more toes than the average cat, and Lee is just another black cat.  Are they sweet?  YES!  Are they healthy?  Not yet.  Living in a shelter is hard on a kitten, and all of them have had their issues, from upper respiratory infections to parasites.  Who knows what issues they'll have in the future; it's a crapshoot at best.

Now, I'm not so fixated on whether my house in Texas will ever sell (it's under contract for the 4th time), or what paint colors I'll use in my new house.  Now I'm impatiently waiting for the day I can take my babies to their forever home.  And what I can do to help the overcrowded shelter continue to help homeless cats and dogs.  It's bigger than me.