“One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.” ~ Henry Miller
I don’t like to let the cats out for a variety of reasons, but sometimes when I’m home, and it’s a gorgeous day, I can’t deny them. Their cries to go out can be heard in Tennessee I’m sure. When I give in, I try not let them out at the same time. You know the term “herding cats?” That’s why I don’t let them out at the same time. Of the two, Leo is the most photogenic, or rather, the least likely to throw me a kitteh middle finger and walk away before I can trip the shutter. I love a wide angle lens, especially for something like this where I can put it near the ground and get a sense of what his point of view might be. I’m thankful he’s feeling better without his sore eye, and he healed very well. He’s back to being feisty and brave. Leo the Pirate Lion King prowling his kingdom. That makes me happy. Makes him happy, too.
“In any given moment, we have two options: to step forward into growth or to step back into safety.” ~ Unknown
Here’s sweet darlin’ Leo. I call him Cap’n Leo now, and soon after he has his stitches removed, I’m going to find little kitteh eye patches for him. A cool cat should have cool duds, doncha think? As you can see, no pun intended, he’s doing great. He’s jolly and playful like his old self. He was able to overcome the spatial complexities of only one eye very quickly. Wally took after him yesterday, and he promptly batted him across the nose. Oh yea, he’s just fine (and Wally backed off). Speaking of Wally, he goes to Aunt Millie tomorrow for the abscessed tooth removal. When I go back to pick him up in the afternoon, Leo will go along to have his stitches removed. They’ll both feel a lot better after tomorrow I’m sure. And Leo? I’m so proud of how resilient he’s been. A great example of picking yourself up after something horrible and going on with life. What a babe. Who knew a little cat could be such a big inspiration?
“What consumes your mind, controls your life.” ~ Unknown
I hadn’t planned on another pic of Leo, but so many people have been asking about him that I felt compelled. Warning: do not scroll past the text if you’re squeamish. Aunt Millie was just as sweet as she could be, and she confessed that this surgery really bothered her. Weird as it sounds, I felt so relieved by that, though I felt really sorry for her. I’ve been feeling super bothered by this, too. I’m normally level headed about such things. In fact, there’s not much that rattles me when it comes to illness and accidents, but this is different somehow. Even Millie couldn’t quite describe why she was bothered. She said it must be because we humans are so visually oriented that the idea of any being losing an eye is automatically devastating to us. Leo will be fine, logically I know that, but trying to comprehend what it must be like for him right now is tough. I gained a whole new level of appreciation for veterinarians today, that’s for sure. It takes a special soul to work on these sick animals and come away still smiling. I told Millie there is a special room in heaven for her with that big heart of hers. She’s a great doctor, and I’m extremely grateful to her for the care she gives all animals, mine and everyone else’s (most of UK library take their pets to her, too). Anyway, our boy is home now, donning the cone of shame and feeling none too perky. He’s being sequestered in Wally’s kennel while his wound continues to drain. He’s none too happy about that either. It didn’t help that Lilly hissed at him as soon as we got home. (I’m still laughing about that.) Poor guy, he’s just not had the best of days, but he’s alive and everything else will heal. If he could talk I’m sure he’d say a big kitty thanks for all the good thoughts and prayers. I thank you, too.
“My goal is not to be better than anyone else. It is to be better than I used to be.” ~ Unknown
Here’s my orange boy from a sunny day in the window. He’ll have surgery this coming week and I’m trying not to let it bug me, but I can’t help thinking about the little guy. All shall be well. All shall be well. And all manner of things shall be well.
“One positive thought creates millions of positive vibrations.” ~ John Coltrane
Notice the dilated iris’. That’s what kitty-kalm-down will do for ya. And look at that sexy pose. If she had a bikini she’d be a centerfold. I sure love this little black cat, panic attacks and all. I can just look at her and feel my blood pressure drop. I’m so glad she found me, and she really did find me. Just showed up on my porch one night as a little kitten and never left.
“As we move from one year into the next, let us heal this hurting world with love and beauty. Let us live in hope instead of fear. Let us do the work we came here to do with peace as our guide. Let us shine for one another. Let us allow the movement of grace. Let us dream into one another’s hearts, remain open to possibility, and remember our true selves.” ~ Lori-Lyn Hurley
My faithful companions spent New Year’s Day with me. If we treat their ages as thoroughbreds, turning another year older on January 1 regardless of their actual date of birth, then Lilly is 10 years old today. Leo is an estimated 13 to 15 (it’s really hard to know with him, even for the vet), and Wally an estimated 6. I was scrolling back through the outhouse and found the day I got Wally in December 2014. He’s still as adorable and lovable as I’d hoped he’d be after we got to know one another. I wouldn’t take anything for him. I wouldn’t take anything for any of them. We four are off to a great start for 2018. I hope the same for all of you.
“Some days you just have to create your own sunshine.” ~ Unknown
After National Puppy Day my feline companions were feeling a little put out by the attention Wally got. It was super warm today, so I came home and threw open the windows. Sitting in the kitchen window is Leo’s favorite thing. I kept shooting until I caught his mouth open. If you look real close you’ll notice there’s only one fang. He lost a fang a while back. He slobbers now. I try not laugh, lest it embarrass him. I had an excellent and productive week, the latter is something I can’t say very often. Here’s to an equally fantastic weekend. I hope the same for you!
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work. And when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey.” ~ Wendell Berry
This is Geoffrey. He’s the sweet boy that looks after Catherine and Susan. He’s got a curious look about him with huge eyes and a wonky ear that looks like a piece of wadded foil on the tip. He’s a small build with a mighty heart. Unlike many cats who shy away from visitors, Geoffrey joined the gathering in the kitchen for a time, and he was interested in my camera. I couldn’t get it to fire when he had his nose stuck to the lens, so I stalked him down the hallway until he did a pirouette in the bedroom doorway as if to say, “What do you want, human?” I was smitten with this kitten.
“The Bible says ‘a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word sours up anger.’…Righteousness is complicated. Self-righteousness is the root of all evil. Let’s start with ourselves.” ~ Meg Barnhouse
When I first met Jack he had two eyes. He then disappeared for many weeks. When he reappeared he had only one eye. He kept sticking around the duplex that Stacy and I shared on Fontaine. When winter set in, we let him inside, though he was always free to roam. He rarely wandered far, and he was always home by dinner time, a bit like a child. Eventually, we learned that he belonged to the family in the duplex next to us; that he’d contracted an eye infection, and rather than treat him with meds, they chose to remove his eye. I wouldn’t have gone home either if I’d been treated like that! By spring, his family had moved, leaving him behind. I adored Jack, and I wasn’t about to have him abandoned a second time. So, when I bought my house I brought him with me. He and Sadie got along great, and when Lilly showed up on my porch late one night, he welcomed her in. She, being a feisty kitten, slapped Jack’s jaws more than once, but he never retaliated (frankly, I’m not sure he saw it coming, what with only one eye). That was my one eyed Jack. The most gentle animal I’ve ever known. We hadn’t lived here long before he was diagnosed with cancer. I brought him home for what was only to be a short time, but his disease had progressed much further than the vet and I realized. It was a cold February night. At supper time he gasped, gurgled, and that was it. It was over just that fast. I called Stacy to come hold the flashlight as I buried him beneath my beautiful fir tree. A few weeks later my friend Jill LeMaster gave me this handmade marker. It was a most thoughtful gesture. Now, I say hi to Jack every time I’m outside, and it’s been nice to watch how time has treated his stone; now a natural part of the yard. I’m so lucky he picked me.