Kids

It's pretty clear to me that I will never have children. I never really thought I would but there was a point somewhere in my late 20s where I might of sort of kind of thought that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. That era is over. I feel a little bad that my mom won't have grandkids (my dad has grandkids through my step-brother, so he's fine), she'd be a great grandmother, but other than a little guilt over being the end to this branch of the family tree, I'm pretty "whatev" about it all. All of this is really just a prelude to telling the internet that I had to give Freckles a time-out today. She was being a complete butt-head to Sugar, chasing and harassing, and basically bothering the poor creaky old dear who just wants to sleep all day and occasionally cuddle if the mood is right. So I locked Freckles in the bathroom for five minutes. It worked and she was a reasonably decent cat for the rest of the day. Score.

Facebook is killing my blog

My ability to post facebook status updates three times a day has totally killed my desire to blog.

But, I can't just leave that weepy post about Sugar sitting here at the top of the page. Sugar's doing alright for now. She had three tumors removed from her leg last Monday. Yes, in the week between me finding them and taking her in for surgery, another tumor appeared. Not good. The vet wasn't sure she was able to get all of the tumors during the surgery. One was deep, and one was undefined and looked like it might have infiltrated her lymphatic system. Not good. We're still waiting to get the pathology reports back, to find out exactly what kind of cancer we're dealing with. I've gotten the names of two vets in Boise that someone I trust, trusts. I'm not comfortable with my vet anymore, so depending on what the test results are, I might be taking Sugar down to the valley for treatment. Sugar's godmother has offered to underwrite her care, which is taking all kinds of stress away from the situation. I couldn't afford to do all of this for her myself.

I've set up Sugar in the guest room, which is driving Freckles insane. Freckles really needs a companion, but Sugar needs a quiet and safe place to recuperate. And they both need me. It's wrenching. But it makes me really glad I didn't get a dog this fall when I was feeling the fever to collect another pet. I think two animals per human is all a household should really hold.

Sugar

I just found two more tumors on her leg. The same leg where a tumor was removed last spring. I feel guilty and horrible for not finding them earlier. I knew when she started losing weight again that something was wrong. I kept meaning to check. I can't stop crying. My poor kitty.

Cat(s) and Mouse

Apparently there's a regular Thursday night mouse convention at my place, because for the second week in a row we had mousetastic adventures on a Thursday night/Friday morning. Luckily, this has not (yet) ended in tragedy. When I came downstairs this morning, both cats were stalking and sniffing and generally behaving oddly in the vicinity of a certain leather club chair in my living room. I peeked beneath, and sure enough there was a scared (but fully alive and uninjured) little mouse taking refuge. The cats and I spent the rest of the morning trying (with completely different intentions) to catch the creature as it darted from chair to sofa to behind the TV. Eventually I had to give up and go into the spa. But I knew for sure Freckles would eventually eviscerate it, so I locked Freckles in the laundry room before I went, and left older, slower, and de-clawed Sugar circling the sofa. I haven't found a mouse carcase since I got home (and believe me, I looked everywhere), so I can only hope that it made its escape out of whatever little hole in the foundation it found its way in through. I'm too soft for my own good. I'd rather the mouse took up permanent residence under my kitchen cabinets than know one of my cats killed it. Of course, I'm not looking forward to any sleep tonight. I'll be bolting awake at each scuffle and thump of Sugar and Freckles on their nightly rounds.

Ooooh. In real wildlife news there are six bucks grazing not 30 feet from my living room windows! How pretty.

31, Now With Roommate!

Because a friend of mine was scheduled to show up at 4:30 with her clothes and her dog to stay with me for a bit while she sorts out her life, yesterday turned out to be one long cleaning binge. Now she's here, and until we make the guest room habitable with primer and paint and maybe some actual furniture (soon I'll have a guest room with a door and a bed and everything, NOW will someone visit me?!?!) she's sleeping on the couch, and her dog is snoring and of course I woke up too early and have been sitting in the living room drinking my tea, and trying to type quietly and not wake her. (Have I mentioned that my wireless router hasn't mysteriously started working as mysteriously as it stopped? I am beyond annoyed.)

So what with the cleaning, and the nerves over temporarily losing some of my privacy, my birthday was not quite as peaceful as I was anticipating. But it was lovely nonetheless. My roomie and I (let's call her L) met another friend for dinner and life change debriefing. They didn't know it was my birthday until I mentioned it late in the dinner, and they were a bit pissed. But . . . all sentimentalizing aside, my birthday really isn't an occasion I like to have become a thing. It's nice when people remember and call or write (thanks to all who did!), but I don't mind when friends don't remember. I actually think a completely normal dinner out, with no one the wiser, was a great celebration. I honestly don't LIKE being the center of attention. Anyway, birthday nonsense over with, it's time to move on to just being 31. And the first order of the day is to wake up L, meet our friend Nadine, and start out the new year with another muscle destroying yoga class. YAY!

(Oh, and because I know at least one person will be curious: The cats are reacting surprisingly to this invasion. Sugar seems fine with the dog. Wary, but not scared. Freckles on the other hand, once a bold invader herself, has been hiding upstairs since this giant gentle Akita showed up in her living room.)

Things I'm Preoccupied By Before Dawn Today

(1) It rained last night. It's still dark so I can't yet see what the rain has wrought. Yesterday was warm, in the upper 40's, and I came home to a largish pond in the low spot in my driveway. I think spring is going to be harder than winter. The snow is getting black and rotten, and I can already see glimpses of the sour sucking mud to come. I told my mother about the pond, and about the feel of my tires ripping up the road as I drove through it . . . and she told me to go dig a tunnel into the snow bank on the side of the driveway to give it a chance to seep away. I looked blankly at the phone and started wishing myself . . . somewhere else. I'm too lazy for this. I might just have to start parking in the cemetery and avoid the worst of the driveway until either everything freezes and I can drive on lovely solid ice (Seriously, other than bare pavement, and fresh packed snow, ice is the best possible surface for driving right now. Can you believe it?) or . . . June and nice sold dirt returns. In the meantime, I think I might actually need a pair of galoshes.

(2) I'm worried about Sugar. She has a nasty spot on one of her back legs. She was at the vet recently being treated for a UTI, and they wanted me to bring her back when she was through with her antibiotics to take a closer look. I'd thought it was just some wound, possibly inflicted by Freckles, that was taking a while to heal. They thought it was a growth. Which could be cancerous. And last night I noticed that she was limping. She's finished the antibiotics, but I won't be able to get her into the vet for another week. And, this is horrible, but my savings is really running low, and I can't afford cancer.

(3) Speaking of not being able to afford cancer. I need to be able to afford cancer. It's time for me to stop living in lalalalalaiamgoingtowinthelotteryanydaynow land and find a way to take care of myself and my kitties. The last few days? I've felt really tired of being poor. Which is RIDICULOUS and slightly embarassing because I have not exactly lived the life of a poor person this past year. I've traveled a lot, I've eaten fancy cheeses, I bought a brand new car for heaven's sake! But still . . . I wandered into Anthropologie a few times this week between sessions of the bar exam, and I coveted things. Cute spring jackets and absurd camel-shaped creamers and over-priced kicky little flats. New things. Things. And my covetousnous was visceral and made me feel ashamed. But it's not this urge for new things that is causing me to worry about my bank balance. I can make-do without new things. I have lots of pretty, cool old things. But . . . as my savings shrink, so do my options. I need money for necessities. I need money to pay for Sugar's biopsy, and if she has cancer I need to be able to pay for whatever treatments the vet recommends. I need to stop fantasizing about living this life of luxury and ease forever. I need to pull out that old excel spreadsheet and figure out just what income level will make me feel safe, and I need to find a way to earn it. In the meantime, I've agreed to work another day a week. This third work day will be at the owners' other spa, the one at the fancy new ski resort across the valley.

(4) Should I take up embroidery like I kind of feel like I want to?

(5) Sugar and Freckles might just kill each other tonight. Tomorrow I'm driving over to the Oregon coast and I'm taking both cats with me. Tonight, all three of us will be spending the night in a bedroom at my grandparents' house in Caldwell. I will be drugging them with kitty valium, but still. I'm not expecting much sleep.

Not Much to Say

I've been in hibernation mode this last week. My mom sent me a full Tivo and it's now almost empty as I've been bingeing. (Let's not talk about BarBri, shall we?)

The cats are driving me insane. Right now they're having a stareoff: Sugar is sitting in a cardboard box full of wood scraps, and Freckles has wrapped herself in the living room rug, and it's the quietest they've been since I woke up. They've been chasing each other and growling, which wouldn't be such a big deal if their well-established chasing route didn't run right over my body, wherever my body happens to be relaxing at that moment.

I'm tentatively scheduled to go to Chicago next week for a job interview. Part of me is really excited and can't stop obsessively looking at apartments on Craigslist. Part of me is very disappointed in myself and feels that at 30 years-old, I should really just settle in somewhere and not keep moving every 1-3 years. That's what this move to Idaho was supposed to be. But I'm already getting antsy.

Cat Update

I'm down to two kittens, both of them spoken for, YAY! While I was off galivanting, my mom took three of the kittens to the local shelter. Apparently, they don't have a ton of kittens right now, and they were sure they'd be able to find homes for them. I'll wander in next week just to see if they're still there.

Freckles seems thrilled to have fewer kittens around pestering her. She's eager to get outside and go hunting . . . which means I really need to get her in to the vet to be spayed. Don't worry, I will. There's no way I'm going through another kitten crisis if it can be prevented.

And Sugar . . . well, Sugar is an apartment kitty. She's never lived in the mountains before. This is all really new for her. Which background I'm providing to pre-empt all of you who might call her "dumb" (and yes, I'm talking to you DAVID) for jumping, with all four paws, onto a brightly burning wood stove last night. Don't worry, she's going to be fine. I took her to the vet this morning and apparently she only burned her toes and not the main paw pad, so barring an infection, she should heal just fine. She doesn't seem to have any trouble walking, the only indication that she's been injured is the occasional disgusted look she directs at her right front paw once in awhile.

STILL unpacking

I don't even want to think how long it's been since that wonderful day on which my stuff finally arrived . . . but I've done remarkably little unpacking since then. For a solid month I had the excuse of houseguests, but it's been a week and a half since they left and still . . . my living room, dining room and bedroom are still lined with half-unpacked boxes and boxes whose packing tape is still intact. But yesterday I made a HUGE stride and finally unpacked the enormous box housing my TV. A 15 year-old TV that I'd thought I'd left behind in DC. That I'd meant to leave behind in DC because it's huge and heavy and really unnecessary. But once the box came off the truck I vaguely remembered that the TV was so freaking big I couldn't move it down to the dumpster by myself and so had ended up having it boxed up and sent along. That's so lame of me. But so me. I don't want it, but it's easier to keep it, so keep it I do. Argh. Anway, here's a cute photo of Sugar playing (this morning) in the two tons of paper the movers used to protect my still working but essentially worthless albatross of a TV. Yes. I unpacked the TV and set it up yesterday afternoon and all the paper is still on my living room floor this morning. Don't judge. I've been busy . . . doing . . . stuff.

Movin' on out, part 1

Sugar's all packed and ready to go (you can't see it, but she put her favorite mouse in there with her). Me, not so much.

I'm a little nervous about blogging about my real life, so I thought a cute picture of a cat might break the ice. And if Sugar in a beach tote isn't cute enough to do it, this whole blogging thing was a very bad idea.

Yesterday was my last day at work, and you see that expression on Sugar's face, sort of dazed and unfocused and staring into the middle distance at nothing? Ditto.