4 Things

I had a theme going and yesterday was supposed to be about three things but it was one of those days so now we're up to 4. It was one of those days because we had some teenage angsty drama with our Aussie. Long story. Suffice to say that our Aussie was very homesick (her mum told me that she probably wasn't ready to make such a trip) and has moved to another house where there is another student from her school. There were bits about it all that were very annoying but the good news is that The Child took it all very well (and not at all personally, which is good, since it wasn't) and frankly, it's nice to know that there's a three day weekend ahead wherein I will not be required to entertain someone else and can just veg.

The Cat is weird. Every morning, very early, she comes into our room, jumps up on my nightstand and drinks from my water glass. The "clink" of her collar on the glass wakes me up and then I instantly get very thirsty, which requires me to get up and get fresh water because, while cats are not known for being a drooly animal, who wants to drink water that has potential cat spit in it? Not me. I've tried leaving out a decoy glass but she always goes to the one nearest me. Every night. The Spouse has suggested a sippy cup.

My little Wii Fit friend informed me today that I am only 10 pounds from my weight goal. I love my little Wii Fit friend.

Project Runway is back! New season premiers tonight. Yippee! And also, skippy! Not to mention, it means I get to start work late on Friday because, as you know, MAB insists that I have my recap up before I come in to the office. I love my job.

Batter Up

The Cat is back. She is under house arrest. She was found blocks from here, up by the synagogue. Now, I am a very ecumenical sort of person by nature. I do not have any issues with her wanting to be Jewish. I would not have any problem feeding her gefilte fish. But the whole hanging out up by the synagogue for 3 days and making me worry thing I am NOT down with at all. Thus, she will stay inside for a bit. She does not like it and that makes me sad but she clearly isn't confining her jaunts to approved areas.

The new fridge arrives today. I. Can't. Wait.

When I'm not celebrating my cat and new fridge I'm going to be making a ruckus at City Hall. There have been 2 break-ins and 1 attempted one just down the street this week. The one yesterday involved a teenage kid being tied up and stuffed in a trunk while the punks ransacked his family home. A neighbor on the scene asked one of the cops if this meant we could get an increased police presence until they catch the perps. The response was, "No, we only have 4 patrol cars for the area".

Really? Hey, it's call "reallocating resources". If you know an area is being targeted for crime, wouldn't it make sense to rethink the current patrol routes and frakking do something about it? We live in a relatively safe and certainly very stable neighborhood. People have lived here for generations. People know each other and look out for each other. We do all the things you're supposed to do to help keep your neighborhood safe. But right now there are two skanky punks who are busting into homes and helping their sorry asses to other peoples' hard earned stuff. That's not right. To be told that the taxpaying citizens of this neighborhood can't be afforded additional police protection is even less right. What the hell are we supposed to do? Quit our jobs, patrol our own 'hood with baseball bats and make our own justice? I don't really like that thought but it's pretty much the way all of us are feeling right about now.

So I'm going to be ruckusing. First City Hall, then my state representatives and then I think I'm placing a call to a reporter I know from a local TV station. And also, you know, practising my baseball swing.

What's New in Rainey's World

Things That Are Wrong

1) Our fridge died. There was fish in it at the time of its passing. I had to throw out a lot of otherwise delicious food. Eeeewww.

2) The Cat is missing. She took off when The Dog's sister came for a weekend visit. (One dog is her limit...2 make her very irritable). Usually she comes sauntering back when the sister leaves but she hasn't. I know she was ok as of Sunday because an irritated (and very rude) person up the street had her in his house and had called Animal Control. I called him but he was, as I said, extremely rude so I didn't want to go to his house. I asked him to just put her outside because she knows where she lives. He hung up on me before further conversation on that or any other point could be had. (Bastid). But she still hasn't come home. I suppose I should call the rude person back but I don't want to because he scares me. I don't like confrontation. But I do want my cat.

Things That Are Right

1) When a 10 year old fridge dies there really is only one solution.

Agreed? Isn't it superfantastic? It will be delivered on Thursday. Plus, I always feel grand about stimulating the economy.

2) I got up this morning to find The Spouse being all Hilda Homemaker in the kitchen. "Are you calling me a girl?" he said. "Oh. I mean Harry Homemaker". "That's better,"he said, as he continued to wipe counters and hand wash annoying bits. (Definition of "annoying bits": odd shaped things that don't fit in the dishwasher but are covered with grease or other disgusting things that you don't really want to touch but you don't want to leave them lying around so you put them in a sink of soapy water but leave them overnight, resulting in disgusting water and still annoying bits).

3) The Child has finals this week and then is done with school for the year. Well, except for the whole having-to-go-to-summer-school-because-she-flunked-English-because-she-didn't-always-turn-in-assignments thing. Despite that reality (which, let's face it, is going to be a pretty big lesson about consequences in and of itself, especially as her mandatory attendance means no mission trip or drama camp this year) she really has done a pretty terrific job of adjusting to life in a big school for big stakes. I'm proud of her. I told her so last night. And, for a change, instead of pulling a "Muuu-therrrr" she smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom".

Here's What Happened

We were sleeping. It was maybe 5 in the morning; who really knows? We were sleeping the sleep of the just. Not exactly a cogent hour. Suffice to say it was early. And we were, as I said, sleeping. The animals, who are noted for being more sensitive to the rhythms of nature, were also sleeping. They slept. And we slept. And then we woke up. Because our alarms went off and it was time to get up. And the animals slept.

I got to work and MAB's husband called and I heard her tell him that Louie, their dog, woke her up right before the earthquake.

Huh?

Guess we had an earthquake. Whatev.

Gross and Weird

No, this post is not about the governor of Illinois. Although your assumption was reasonable.

Rather, this morning I would like to reveal an odd thing about The Cat. The fact that she eats butter when she gets the chance isn't so weird. Who doesn't like butter? It's up there with bacon and pie for sheer nummy goodness. And as Dame Judi pointed out, it helps with hair ball control. Always a good thing.

We had hoped our new cat would be a hunter like Phoebe. Turns out she is, but not in the way we'd desired. The Cat hunts worms. With deft skill she finds the longest, fattest worm in the garden and then, much to the disgust of The Child, she brings it into the house. Then she plays with it. She pats it with her paw and watches in amazement as it wiggles around. She nudges it with her nose. She gently lifts it with her paw and tosses it into the air. Sometimes she'll get up on her hind legs so she can bat it around a few times before it drops. Then she nudges it again. This repeats for a bit until she decides to bite it. She usually does a few test bites before snapping the thing in two. Or three. At this point she loses interest, leaving what is left of the poor tortured annelida to dry out, only to be discovered later by the completely grossed out Child.

Last night we watched her play with a worm for a good 10 minutes. As soon as it was dead she went outside and came right back with another one. It's like she's got her own personal worm farm out there somewhere. Why she is compelled to bring them into the house I'm not sure. I guess the lighting is better.

It is a weirdly fascinating habit and I suppose finding the occasional dessicated worm isn't nearly as foul as finding bird or rat guts...which is what Phoebe liked to leave behind. But still.

Eeeewww.

The New Cat

Buck asked after our new cat, suggesting I write about her. And I realized that I haven't said a peep about her since she was rescued and became a part of our family.

• The chief concern, of course, was how she would get along with The Dog, especially given how much Phoebe (may she rest in peace) hated him. But to Phoebe (may she rest in peace)The Dog was an interloper. She was there first and his skittering, furry black puppy presence was not appreciated. Not ever. This time around, it's The Dog who is alpha and Kitty had to accept her place in the pack and she is just fine with The Dog, so long as he doesn't pull one of his, "Oh, yeah, I'm The Dog, I was here first and I feel like barking at you" things. Because if he does that and gets in her face she swipes at his nose with her very sharp claws. But then he doesn't usually do that again for a while.

• She likes to hunt. Well, at least, she really enjoys pouncing. You will be walking around, la la la la la, going about your business and all a sudden she will leap out at you and try and grab your legs. It's very disconcerting. And, as I mentioned, she has very sharp little claws.

• She sleeps with us. And The Dog. And quite companionably, too. Although last night she must have done something to disturb The Dog because he started snarling at her. I think it is because she walked over his head to get at my bedside water glass. Which, btw, eeeewww.

• She is way more people oriented and friendly than Phoebe (may she rest in peace), who was so unsociable that many of our friends didn't even know we had a cat. This one is quite the opposite. She prefers to sit on a lap or perch on a shoulder and generally be in the room where the most people are. It's quite sweet.

• She also likes to lick people. Like a dog. Once she perches on you and you start petting her she licks you. She especially likes to lick heads. The Child believes this has to do with the litter that she never brought to term and her deep desire to be a mommy even though she never will be now because she had The Procedure. I think it's because we taste like meat. But it is very funny because one thinks of cats as licking for grooming. That we have one who does it to show affection cracks me up. (Unless I'm right about the meat thing).

• We intended to keep her as an inside-only cat but she's having none of it. She likes to roam. She comes over to The Neighbor's every night at cocktail hour, which is amusing. She likes to poke around the garden and climb the fence. I don't know how much farther she's gone than The Neighbor's but she comes back so I guess it's ok. I certainly don't mind the whole not-having-a-litter-box-in-the-house thing. BUT I also don't like it because we have coyotes around here and they like to eat cats. So I worry about that. Unless she mistakes them for dogs, swipes their noses with her very sharp claws and gets away in time. Mostly, I try not to think of it and take a que sera attitude about it. Although it would totally suck if she didn't outrun the coyotes. (And I do wish the city would do something about it because it's a little scary to think of these pack animals roaming the streets eating pets. I worry that they'll eat someone's baby). But she's a cat and her catness cannot be stifled. So I just pray to St. Francis a lot.
  

• The Cat likes to sleep in very small spaces. She once curled up in a soup plate. She enjoys the basket that contains the TV remotes. The smaller the space, the better. It's quite amusing.

• She likes to explore. She's fascinated with the dishwasher.

In short, we like her very much. For those of us with a cat inclination, a home really isn't a home without one.

Introducing The (New) Cat

I took about a dozen shots of her face...she would NOT hold still. That's why this one is blurry.









But isn't she a pretty thing?







And this is a more comprehensive shot. She very much enjoys watching "Hannah Montana" with her Girl.



Rosie said it best in her comment ...a house really isn't a home without a kitty (if you're into felines). We needed some time after Phoebe's passing but it feels really, really right to have a kitty again.

Well, That Was a Productive Weekend

As if the arrival of Joshua Dale wasn't enough, there were some other pretty awesome things that happened this weekend.

First, I found my cell phone. I was getting ready for church, pulled on a skirt, stuck my hands in the pockets and voila!. Funny thing is, just about every day for the last couple of weeks I've thought to wear that skirt to work and then decided not to. It was like St. Anthony was nudging me toward the answer to my "lost things" prayer.

Anyway, the replacement phone hasn't yet arrived and hopefully it won't be that big a deal to send it back (you know how I am about mailing things).

Then yesterday afternoon The Child and I went to the U district to pick up still more textbooks for her (I swear by all things academic it is always something) and then to the Apple store to see if they could explain why her iPod has died. Except the Apple store is being remodeled. So we went to Johnny Rocket's and ate hamburgers. Then I wanted to go to Barnes and Noble to spend my birthday gift card and what should be parked outside the store but a Humane Society bus? And what should be in one of the windows of that bus but a kitten who looked just like Phoebe? So we went into the bus. In the cubby next to the kitten was another young cat, who immediately put her paw out to The Child. When she bent close to talk to the cat it immediately began to lick her face. Well, sure; she probably still smelled of hamburger but it was the cutest thing ever.

The Child looked at me. The Cat looked at me. The Cat poked her paw out at me and rolled her little head when I stroked her. We tried to call The Spouse (silly us, that man never has his phone on) and the upshot is yeah, we have a new cat. Her name is Kiera. She is about 18 months old. She has topaz eyes and a caramel and vanilla coat. She is beautiful. She hates the dog (and I have the 3 inch scratch on my hand to prove it...that'll teach me to try and break up a fight) and he is a little bewildered but I expect they will eventually make a separate peace.

I'd show you her picture but I can't find the cord for downloading from my camera. I am apparently only allowed one working small electronic device at a time.

Happy Joy

Last night we ate delicious fish and chips and watched, as The Spouse likes to call it, "My Immense Adipose Hellenic Nuptials". It was a very pleasant evening, all the more so because The Cat is improving.

Her spirits and energy had seemed much improved to me. She was wandering away from the house and walking on top of the fence, feats quite beyond her earlier in the week. She was hissing at The Dog and fought furiously when The Child put her in the pet carrier. We were trying to be guarded when we went to the vet yesterday but we couldn't help being hopeful.

Upon examination the vet said that her kidney was smaller and softer than it had been on Monday. She still has a heart murmur but that could absolutely be connected to the kidney issue. Therefore, she will stay on her regimen of fluids, pills and special food for a month and then he'll do some more blood work. We were all extremely relieved and The Child and I indulged in happy tears.

(I keep thinking what a good thing it is that Charlie is on hiatus and not reading blogs. This all would have pained him so deeply).

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Btw, yes. I know. Thank you. We've already had one phone call and an email about the pet food/kidney failure recall thingy. Neither the food she had prior to The Incident or the new stuff is affected. Although it did occur to me that if we had been giving her tainted food we might be able to sue for the costs of all the vet bills. 'Cause I'm American like that.

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I mentioned earlier in the week the "wallpaper" nature of The Cat and how easy it is to take her for granted. I've since been spending time every day petting her and telling her what a pretty kitty she is and listening to her purr. The fact that we thought we might be losing her was the motivation, of course, until I realized - and not for the first time but I'm slow - that we really can't take the creatures in our lives for granted because we really just don't know what each day will bring. And when I say "creatures" I mean all the living things around us.

I remember the stories after 9/11, family members and friends recalling last words, last interactions with those they lost. I think of ChouChou, who has twice beaten cancer and knows a thing or two about how fragile and precious life is. She never ends a conversation without saying "I love you". It's a good practise.

Oh, I know there are people who think that you cheapen the phrase by overuse. But can you really be overusing "I love you" when it is said to people you really love? I don't think so. If you love people, you should tell them. Don't assume they know. Heck, I know that the people in my life know that I love them. Of course they do. But telling them is still a good thing, something I need to make sure I'm doing more often. (Sometimes it seems I say "I love you" to people like The Neighbor, ChouChou, JP and Buck more than I do to The Spouse and The Child. I need to work on that).

Anyway, the point is, I took my cat for granted until it was almost too late and I'm not going to do that anymore. Not with her or The Dog or The Child or The Spouse. Or with anyone else that I love. At least, I'm going to try really hard to be more mindful.

Thanks for all your sweet words of encouragement and prayers and stuff. I know she's "just a cat" but it meant a lot that so many of understood. And I'm just so happy to be telling you that it looks like she's on the mend. Yippee!

The Middle of Lent

The middle of Lent always stinks.

In the language of the Church, Lent is a time in the desert, modeling the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness before He began His earthly ministry. Catholics "go into the desert" in Lent to prepare and be purified, as He did. We simplify, fast, give up and take on things all in an effort to become better Christians and to be ready for the great mysteries of Easter.

The beginning of the journey is always rather exciting. Having considered what needs to change in my life, I embrace the notion of a 40 day retreat. I'm ready, enthusiastic. And the beginning is like any journey, anticipating what's to come with eagerness. The edge of the desert has a wild beauty and besides, I can still see "home" back over my shoulder.

But after a few weeks the desert isn't such a perky place. The vista is nothing but barren sand, the occasional rock and maybe, with luck, a scrub brush. But there is no beauty, no oasis, no cleft of rock in which to hide from the heat. It sucks. Whatever load I'm carrying suddenly seems heavier; sometimes I lose my bearings and mostly am asking, "Why am I doing this again?"

But once in the middle of the desert there is no option but to keep moving until the 40 days wind down. There begins to be vegetation. The sandstorms aren't so frequent. And there, in the distance, a glimpse of the other end of the desert. There is a cool, green place waiting. The journey is over and I'm able to celebrate the 50 days of Easter with a new kind of joy and a fair amount of relief.

At least, that is how it plays out for me.

Another thing about Lent. I always start out with my own intentions, which come out of thoughtful reflection and prayer. But just about every year there's a point where God says, "Sure, that's a pretty good idea but here's where I'm really taking you".

This year's Lent is, without question, about waiting and about how impatient I am for the "big things". When it comes to little stuff, I have no problem with waiting. Standing on line for the grocery check-out, waiting to be seated in a restaurant, even traffic tie-ups...I'm the queen of Little Waiting. I don't fight it, don't complain. I'll take out a book or my day planner, ring up someone on my cell, chat with someone or just take the time to breathe and be. I am a model of charm and poise with the little waitings of life. Big stuff, not so much.

I want it now! I want the deal to close, the test results back, the decisions made sooner rather than later. Forget this waiting for a contractor to show up to finish the kitchen. Forget about backed up labs and department directors who have the nerve to go on vacation when I'm looking for a job. Escrow? Who needs it? These are the sorts of things that it seems I've had to deal with every Lent of my Catholic life. There is always something big going on, something that won't be accomplished quickly, something that is moving forward but so incrementally as to be imperceptible. And. I. Hate. It.

This morning I had a little breakthrough. Here's a bold statement: I'll bet you I do get The Job. We all know I'm perfect for it. They'll know it soon enough. But you know what else I bet? I'll bet if I get it the offer won't come until Eastertide. Just bet you.

And then I thought of something else. All this stuff with The Cat? It's consuming a lot of time and emotional energy. How much would it stink to be dealing with this AND working at the same time? (Granted, once I am working I'll have to deal with all sorts of things while holding down a job. But there is a mercy in the fact that right now there is time to attend to this).

This isn't a major breakthrough on the subject of Big Waiting, but I may have stumbled on a piece of it: I need to develop a similar attitude and discipline toward the Big stuff as I have with the Little. Breathing into it, letting it be and not wasting all my time in the meantime with fretting. Yes, the scenery right now is a little austere but there's beauty to be found even in the barreness, if I'm willing to stop complaining long enough to look around.

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Cat Update for Those Who Are Interested

Got the blood work back yesterday, with elevated levels that confirm funkiness in her kidney. Doc wants her on a special low-protein diet, wants us to push fluids no matter how much she's drinking and he wants to see her again on Friday. The second he said he wanted us to start the IV, I freaked. The tech showed me how to do it but eewww... I spent the day visualizing how to administer a subcutaneous IV and getting skeeved out. I told The Neighbor that at least it would give me one more important skill for The Tribe after the apocolypse. ("Why, you'll be a medical technician! she said).

But then I remembered that our friend Jennifer is studying to be a physical therapist and maybe, just maybe she'd know how to do it. "Sub cute?" she said, "That is soooo easy". Hi. I have a new personal hero. She came up last night to give Phoebs her fluids and is going to come tonight and tomorrow as well.

May she and all her descendents be blessed for ever more. Selah.

If the problem is a kidney infection, then the antibiotics and fluids will help immensely and the vet should see an appreciable difference by Friday.

Also, her thyroid is normal. And that's the bad news. She's underweight but eats all the time. It could be that she's not getting enough nutrients because her kidney is otherwise occupied. It could be. It could also be cancer. There. I said it. So basically, if her kidney doesn't respond to the diet, pills and fluids, that's pretty much the diagnosis.

I told The Child yesterday and immediately began crying. She, on the other hand, remained stalwart. "The thing is," I told her, "we need to start preparing ourselves for the worst. If it really is just an infection and she's going to be fine we can be really happy. But if we tell ourselves that's all it is and it's worse we are going to be even sadder than we are now".

So there you go. And in the meantime, we're just loving her up as much as we can.

Some Updates

The Cat

Our vet saw her yesterday. She is much improved in fiestiness and spirits, which is a good thing. It suggests she's responding to the antibiotics. He did find some other things which could be indicative of a more severe condition, however, so he's doing some blood work and we'll see if that tells us anything. Meanwhile, she's dehydrated so if she doesn't seem to be drinking enough we have to push fluids. Hi. Picture me administering an IV bag to a rascally cat. Yeah, I can't see it, either.

We should have the blood tests back today or tomorrow.

The Child is being very brave and hopeful. Which is sweet and distressing. This is really hard for her.

By the time I was her age I'd seen so many animals go to their reward. I lived on a farm growing up. It happened. And if they were sick, Sean Connory was the one who moved them on to the next realm. (Something he did not enjoy, btw). Besides a frog, 2 fish and a couple of stick bugs, The Child hasn't had to really deal with pet death. The frog, that was tragic, as she'd raised it from a tadpole. But after a proper keening and a liturgically correct funeral, she was pretty much over it. The Cat would be a much bigger deal.

This sucks.

The Job

I learned yesterday that my application has made it past the HR people and onto the desk of the Department Director. Said Director has been in London and just returned. So I'm assuming I'm only one of 412,000 things she has to deal with in the next couple of weeks. But it was nice to know that I've been deemed a qualified candidate by HR. I continue to be very excited by the possibilities of this gig so that news made me superfantastically happy.

Newspapers

City Mouse gave me a fine addition for the newspaper list I posted yesterday:

The Chicago Tribune is read by people who work their butts off so other people can run the country.

This inspired me to consider another omission from the list:

The Seattle Times is read by people who are trying to come to consensus on whether to commission a study to determine the viability of developing a non-partisan board to conduct a survey on whether to call a public vote on the question of the desirability of running the country. Latte, anyone?

Baseball

The Mariners are 3-10 in spring training. Bodes well. Not.

Nothing Exciting to Report

My standing Thursday morning meeting ran long. I hate when that happens. It ended up being one of those things where our agenda (working out the final details for a Mardi Gras carnival next weekend) was pushed aside by the book-keeper, who needed help with the budget, and a representative from a learning center. Oh well. The learning center lady brought an apple caramel pie with her. We liked her. A lot.

So now I'm fully loaded on sugar and ready to make up for lost time. Which is good.

In other news, there's nothing to report.

The Child has been very well behaved this week. She seems to be owning this teenager thing in all the right ways at the moment. Plus, she's working on a story for her writing class that she is beyond enthusiastic about. I love seeing that. Last night she told me, "This story is so good, Mom, that I think I'll have to send it to a publisher when I'm done".

The Spouse has resigned his commission from the on-line infantry unit he's been playing with for, golly, at least a year. (Don't worry; Mr. Stickler McSticklerson will let us know how long and also correct me if it's not an infantry unit). I think it made his imaginary friends sad but he said he just wasn't having that much fun anymore. These days he's into a flight simulator game. Last night he flew to Bangor, Maine. Last week he was in Key West but he didn't bring me any imaginary Key Lime Pie. Bad Spouse.

The Cat has been eating dog food and shunning her own. The Dog has been very doggie, but seems confused by The Cat's sudden interest in his kibble.

I've been frustrated lately by the size of my desk. It's fine for using the computer but there's not a lot of surface area so when I have to pungle bills or do other paperwork it gets very crowded. I was thinking of swapping my desk with The Child's, but that would involve a lot of heavy lifting. Last night I figured out that I could move my laptop to the side and still have room to operate my mouse (because I hate the little mouse pad on the computer). It's like having a whole new desk. And yes. I'm very slow when it comes to thinking outside of the box.

JP and I are rolling through on Operation Restoration over at Here's the 80s. He's working from the front end of the catalog and I've bringing up the rear. So far we've only had to box about a dozen videos because we haven't been able to find replacements. Considering how many artists are already in the catalog, that's pretty impressive. We're still urging a boycott of Viacom. The next phase is to figure out who some of their major advertisers are and start a letter writing campaign to those folks. Because Viacom isn't going to care that a bunch of non-Neilsen families aren't watching their programming. But the advertisers will. Gotta hurt 'em where it counts, in the pocket book. Bastards.

That's all. Now I've got work to do. Have a great day.