Drift by my window...
Autumn arrives with a mild breeze, a hint of winter, and a helluva a lot of chard. I can't eat that much chard. But it does tell me something for next year. Chard grows well here, don't plant so much chard, deer don't like chard, but it looks cool.
I got exactly one single tomato that never ripened, planted too late, and zucchini, that the deer ate. Which is OK. I did get one decent sized zuch that I used in a ratatouille and it was one of my best ratas, one of my signature dishes, (hint, lots of herbs). They also ate my geraniums; but how can you fault Bambi?
The culprits are a family of deer: buck with amazing horns, two little Bambis, one fawn, one buck with tiny horns, and Mom, that graze the nearby small park within a short walk away, and they walk in a daily circuit that includes my street. I fear that they are too comfortable around people and dogs, people who drive carelessly, dogs who are dogs, and the thought of seeing them injured haunts me. I brake for skunks. There is a coyote I have seen twice who also frequents the street. I love them all and they can have my geraniums and zucchini. And even the tomato, which nobody wants, including me.
As the world turns...my little cat, Stella, is finding life more challenging, (aren't we all?) She went blind with a detached retina this week. Caused by high blood pressure; older cats get that. She is 22 years old, that is 100 equivalent in human years. She is dealing with it, after some serious blood pressure medicine, a vet bill, and a lot of love from her mom and her dog. Saw Penny lick her for the first time last night. Luckily she has one eye still working, so she can manage to cross the "bridge" I built from my bed to the chest of drawers where her food dish is. She's figured that out now. She is my idol. Didn't realize just how much I want her to stick around until I faced life without her.
A few people, who really don't get it, seriously said to me "well, she's had a long life...well, if the vet says toast her, it's best to do it...well, just put her to sleep". Yeah... in a nice way...those folks don't get it. Perhaps, they have never loved an animal of another species. Perhaps, they don't understand a relationship of 22 years; whatever it is, I forgive them for their ignorance.
http://youtu.be/-FhcKJMQeyc
She is a cat. A simple house cat. A mutt. I didn't pay anything for her. I got her from a litter in the Santa Cruz Mountains from a friend 23 years ago. I didn't even choose her initially. I chose her sibling, Blanche, a beautiful all-white kitten, Snowball, they tentatively named. I was so excited to pick her up 8 weeks later.
I worked at Network General with her owner, in fact, I hired him, Ed, and he convinced me that I needed this kitten, I visited them at 8 weeks with my son way up at the top of the Santa Cruz mountains. I fell in love with Blanche (Snowball). 2 weeks later, when I came to pick her up, they informed me that the gray one had to go with the white one, they had bonded. I accepted them both. And for the next 18 years, it was a wonderful relationship of commitment and love. Blanche, Stella, and me. Husbands, boyfriends, houses, adventures, cross-country trips, jobs, assholes, traumas, dogs, they stood by me all the while. They needed love, food, cat litter. Blanche was the sweet one. Always sweet and gentle. Just loved love. Stella, the toughie, in charge, BIG attitude. Aloof, sweet but tough. The two of them never weighed more than 7 pounds, but they ruled.
I lost Blanche a few years ago. To a mysterious and sudden neurological problem. My theory, a black widow spider bite. But you have to give that little, gentle spirit credit. After her initial near-death crisis, she held on for 9 months, fighting back; but she eventually lost the battle, peacefully dying on my dog's bed. I still await her annoying constant jumps on my lap and resting position across my stomach at night. We still miss her.
Now Stella, at 22, is nearing her end. Due to old age, high blood pressure and blindness. The winds of time are blowing towards us both. I am aware and I am feeling it. I love the old girl. Yes, blind, yes, needs medicine, yes, sits on my bed waiting for me every night. I wait for her, too. And I wait and will wait. She is more than a task or a duty, she is in my DNA. Understand that, sad animal-haters. She won't be "put to sleep" because she is a hassle. It will be because she is in pain and I can't do anything to relieve that suffering. A pet is a life commitment, not a companion until it is inconvenient, after 8 years when they are sick, or when it is too expensive. Love is a life-long commitment.
Stella is still fighting on. I will hold on with her until she is ready to go. And I will know when that time comes. But until then, Stella Lives!
Autumn arrives with a mild breeze, a hint of winter, and a helluva a lot of chard. I can't eat that much chard. But it does tell me something for next year. Chard grows well here, don't plant so much chard, deer don't like chard, but it looks cool.
I got exactly one single tomato that never ripened, planted too late, and zucchini, that the deer ate. Which is OK. I did get one decent sized zuch that I used in a ratatouille and it was one of my best ratas, one of my signature dishes, (hint, lots of herbs). They also ate my geraniums; but how can you fault Bambi?
The culprits are a family of deer: buck with amazing horns, two little Bambis, one fawn, one buck with tiny horns, and Mom, that graze the nearby small park within a short walk away, and they walk in a daily circuit that includes my street. I fear that they are too comfortable around people and dogs, people who drive carelessly, dogs who are dogs, and the thought of seeing them injured haunts me. I brake for skunks. There is a coyote I have seen twice who also frequents the street. I love them all and they can have my geraniums and zucchini. And even the tomato, which nobody wants, including me.
As the world turns...my little cat, Stella, is finding life more challenging, (aren't we all?) She went blind with a detached retina this week. Caused by high blood pressure; older cats get that. She is 22 years old, that is 100 equivalent in human years. She is dealing with it, after some serious blood pressure medicine, a vet bill, and a lot of love from her mom and her dog. Saw Penny lick her for the first time last night. Luckily she has one eye still working, so she can manage to cross the "bridge" I built from my bed to the chest of drawers where her food dish is. She's figured that out now. She is my idol. Didn't realize just how much I want her to stick around until I faced life without her. A few people, who really don't get it, seriously said to me "well, she's had a long life...well, if the vet says toast her, it's best to do it...well, just put her to sleep". Yeah... in a nice way...those folks don't get it. Perhaps, they have never loved an animal of another species. Perhaps, they don't understand a relationship of 22 years; whatever it is, I forgive them for their ignorance.
http://youtu.be/-FhcKJMQeyc
She is a cat. A simple house cat. A mutt. I didn't pay anything for her. I got her from a litter in the Santa Cruz Mountains from a friend 23 years ago. I didn't even choose her initially. I chose her sibling, Blanche, a beautiful all-white kitten, Snowball, they tentatively named. I was so excited to pick her up 8 weeks later.
I worked at Network General with her owner, in fact, I hired him, Ed, and he convinced me that I needed this kitten, I visited them at 8 weeks with my son way up at the top of the Santa Cruz mountains. I fell in love with Blanche (Snowball). 2 weeks later, when I came to pick her up, they informed me that the gray one had to go with the white one, they had bonded. I accepted them both. And for the next 18 years, it was a wonderful relationship of commitment and love. Blanche, Stella, and me. Husbands, boyfriends, houses, adventures, cross-country trips, jobs, assholes, traumas, dogs, they stood by me all the while. They needed love, food, cat litter. Blanche was the sweet one. Always sweet and gentle. Just loved love. Stella, the toughie, in charge, BIG attitude. Aloof, sweet but tough. The two of them never weighed more than 7 pounds, but they ruled.I lost Blanche a few years ago. To a mysterious and sudden neurological problem. My theory, a black widow spider bite. But you have to give that little, gentle spirit credit. After her initial near-death crisis, she held on for 9 months, fighting back; but she eventually lost the battle, peacefully dying on my dog's bed. I still await her annoying constant jumps on my lap and resting position across my stomach at night. We still miss her.
Now Stella, at 22, is nearing her end. Due to old age, high blood pressure and blindness. The winds of time are blowing towards us both. I am aware and I am feeling it. I love the old girl. Yes, blind, yes, needs medicine, yes, sits on my bed waiting for me every night. I wait for her, too. And I wait and will wait. She is more than a task or a duty, she is in my DNA. Understand that, sad animal-haters. She won't be "put to sleep" because she is a hassle. It will be because she is in pain and I can't do anything to relieve that suffering. A pet is a life commitment, not a companion until it is inconvenient, after 8 years when they are sick, or when it is too expensive. Love is a life-long commitment.Stella is still fighting on. I will hold on with her until she is ready to go. And I will know when that time comes. But until then, Stella Lives!
No comments:
Post a Comment