This is where I am at these days:
Recap:
Once upon a time we had a house full of animals. Four cats, three dogs.
Life was good. We were all young and healthy.
But time passed, and we all got older.
Dusty went to live with my mom. Dusty never seemed to like being part of such a big family, and my mom had no other animals at the time. They needed each other. Dusty eventually succumbed to cancer.
Not quite three years ago I came home from work. Cecilia was acting wonky. I wasn't sure what was going on. What was happening. When Mark was home at 2pm, she was fine. Her usual, playful self. When I got home by 4pm, she was dazed and confused. By 6pm, she was gone. The vet surmised she had had a stroke. Somewhere in that window between when Mark left the house and when I arrived home.
Three months later, in August, Georgia cut her foot. It was just a stupid cut. That's all. But from there, she went straight down hill. Her foot took forever to heal, but, even as it healed, something else would come up. It all started with that cut on her foot, but from there she, we and the vets were just battling one thing after another. We spent the next three months in the revolving door of the vet's office trying anything and everything to make our precious girl heal. Sleepless nights and worrisome days. But in the end, it was time to let her go.
We got a reprieve for a little while and then late last summer we noticed our little Mitzi was blind. OK, we thought, we can work with that. Then she went deaf. It got a bit harder, but she got our time, our attention and our patience, because she was ours to take care of. And we did. But she went down quickly. In the end, she left this world without our help.
Then my little Dolce. As with the others, our free time was spent making her as comfortable and as spoiled as possible. She gave us seventeen years, hopefully we gave her a peaceful good-bye.
Each and every one of these broke our hearts, and, if you go back, there is a blog post or two on each of them.
With almost all of them, when they were restless at night, I would go outside with them. Sit out in the grass. Contemplate the stars. Pet them. Talk to God. Feel those special moments when there are no other distractions from the world. Just me, God, the night and my absolutely wonderful beloved family pet. Those nights could be so hard knowing what was coming, but they were also so so beautiful.
That leaves us with two cats.
Ray Ray is my latest "project".
Ray has always been an outside cat. He comes in during inclement weather, but otherwise, his entire life, he has preferred the great outdoors.
Early in life, Ray got into a fight with a cactus. The cactus got him in the eye. He had a bad eye, but it never seemed to bother him. Until about a year or so ago(?) All of a sudden, one day, his bad eye was a completely black eye. We had it removed. At this point he obviously wasn't using it anyway. OK.
Then last autumn, Ray started licking all his fur off. We don't know why. We honestly don't know what started it. He has now been into the vet quite a few times himself. There is no physical reason. He's had the blood work, X-rays, tests etc. Was there a new pet added to the home? Nope. A new cat in the neighborhood? We don't know. It did begin about the same time our neighbors began a huge construction project in their yard. Lots of noise, lots of activity, lots of people. Did that cause his anxiety? We don't know. But we have been battling this for months now.
Just a few days ago, as I noticed the licking continue and no physical reason for it, I brought him into the house and gave him a cone. Hoping to give his hair some time to grow. However, I am sure both the cone and being inside are causing even MORE anxiety. Also, with the smaller one, he can still reach his tail, so he's licking the ever living stuffings out of his poor tail. Put a bigger cone on him, and he figured out how to shake it off.
Whilst he has been inside the past few days, he has been sleeping on me. Yes, ON me. Not by me. On me. This morning, roughly around 3am, I startle awake, because I thought he fell off the bed onto the floor. I quickly sit up, which, I guess, has now startled him, because, he had not fallen but rather jumped. He must have jumped onto the headboard, because once I sat up, he jumped from the headboard to my head, to my shoulder to the bed. All with his nice sharp claws engaged. Mark wakes up repeating "What? What?" I'm bleeding, Mark's confused, Ray is scared. It's great.
Yes, I will be calling the vet yet again today.
And after all this, do I learn?
Nooooo.
Of course not.
Because, after all this, after ALL OF THIS, we're supposed to be going and picking up a scared, previously injured doggie who we are adopting, because some yay-hoo abandoned her and let her down, and my heart cannot take that.
And after all this, my house NEEDS a dog. Life could be easier. Life could be cleaner. But people still don't spay and neuter their animals. There are still far too too many animals out there who need a home. And, as hard (and as expensive) as it can be, it is always worth it.
Even when it hurts your heart... and sometimes your head.
