Saturday, February 26, 2011

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

R.I.P. Little Missy

Almost 18 years ago my husband and I were visiting my sister Debbie.  She had this little tiny black kitten that had been rescued from inside a barn wall.  It needed a home. The kitten was too young to be away from her mother but was eating wet food for my sister by "nursing" it. That, by the way,  made a huge mess as she would cover all her feet as she kneaded it and face as she sucked the wet food!

There was a small boy in the home that would pick this kitten up by her little tail and just really had no compassion at all for handling the little thing.  My husband who has never wanted "inside" pets took pity on it and told me I could take her home.  I told him I didn't want her unless she could be an inside cat.  After about 10 more minutes of watching this little boy mishandle her he gave in and we owned a cat!

We named her Little Missy because she was so tiny.  She has been a great pet over the years.  She always slept in bed with me and my husband for about the first 5 years we had her.  Then I crazily brought home another kitten for the kids at Christmas time.  She resented that very much and held a grudge.  She absolutely hated Ali and never got over the fact that we got another cat.  He would bully her like crazy too so that didn't help their relationship any.  She left my bedroom and began sleeping with my oldest son Cory.  She was Cory's cat for the next 10 years.  Then he moved out for college and she moved in to the next oldest child's room, our daughter Brandi.  She wouldn't even sleep with Cory when he came back for weekends or holidays.  Like I said, she could hold a grudge.  Brandi was only a year younger than Cory so when she moved out Missy moved on to James our youngest son.  She slept with him until he moved his bedroom to the basement and then the only reason she didn't still sleep with him is because we kept the basement door closed so the cats couldn't get down there.  This forced her to become my cat again. 

I have to admit, I missed her little tiny feet on my face.  She loved to stretch out and touch your face lovingly as she snuggled with you.  She was really a smart cat too.  We would not allow her on the table or kitchen counter tops.  She would sit at the dinner table with us when she was younger and sit up with her front feet on the table and wait for crumbs.  If someone dropped something near her she would paw it off into the chair and eat it.  Once she got a urinary tract infection.  I had no idea she was sick with it as cat litter tends to hide the color of their urine.  She jumped up into the sink one morning while I was getting ready for work and began peeing in the sink right in front of me!  At first, I was like, "OMG are you peeing?!" Then I realized it was bloody and understood she was trying to tell me something was wrong.  She was never mean, although once we had a friend of ours house sit for us and when she came over to feed the cats Missy jump on her leg and held on attacking her.  I still chuckle at the thought of this, our little Missy, so brave.  As she got older she got arthritis and began using the doggie steps to get on and off our bed,  I highly recommend them to anyone with older pets in the home.

I wish she would of just got old and passed away but she got sick.  It really broke my heart today to have to put this little gal to sleep.  I cuddled the morning away with her and said my good-byes.  I hated to take her to the vet.  She hated that place and even when she was healthy would make herself sick after each vet visit.  She would just get so stressed out.  I work there and I would have to get the leather gloves out to handle my own cat at times because she just turned into this devil cat at the vet!  I have to say, the thought of smothering her with a pillow to end her suffering and not cause any further stress with a vet visit crossed my mind.  In the end, we made the drive.  I waited while they placed a i.v. catheter for the euthanasia solution to pass through. Maybe I should of stayed with her but I just thought things would go better if I was not there to make anyone nervous.   She was bad for that and they had to use a little gas anesthesia to get her to hold still.  I don't know if she would of been calmer with me present or not at that point.  She was struggling to breath and restraining her for a catheter would not of been something she wanted to deal with.  They brought her back to me still half out of it from the anesthesia so I held her until she was feeling back to normal. 

We talked.  I told her who to look up when she got to heaven and to wait for me.  Then the doctor came in and gave her the injection thru the i.v. catheter port.   This went peacefully and she died in my arms.  I left her there to be cremated and I'll get her cremains back in a week or so.  I will get a little kitty urn to put them in and sit them somewhere sunny. 

It was a very sad day and hard to say good bye to such a part of our family.  I just wanted to write something to help my heart heal and to let the world know what a blessing this little creature was to our lives.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Rubbish

I've been thinking lately about simplifying my life.  I have a lot of crap.  I'm not a hoarder....yet.  But close.  I have begun to post some vintage items on my Etsy store just to clear out.  Things are nice but memories are better and I have decided to sell many of my things in the hopes of going to France. 

I like the things I have that have a memory attached to them.  Like my Grandma's cow cookie jar.  It's not really my Grandma's but the act of love my mother went through to get it for me is unbelievable and now it means more to me than the my Grandma's would at this point. 

My big problem is I love to go rubbish collecting.  I even love to say the word.  Rubbish.  It's such a fun word and just rolls off my lips.  Maybe it's my English heritage.  I can't get enough of auctions, garage sales, junk stores, etc.  I think the memories I have of junk collecting rank right up there with some of my best times.  Maybe because I'm never alone in the act.  My friends or family seem to enjoy it almost as much as I do. 

Even as a young girl, my best friend and I used to go into vacant old homes and see what was left behind.  We would scour the local dump for things we didn't consider "trash" but someone threw out.  We had a ball!  Who at age 8 has an antique collection?!  Too bad we didn't keep our stuff from back then!  Maybe it would be worth some whopping number and I wouldn't have to get rid of all my rubbish to fund a trip to France after all.  Then again, my point of simplifying would never happen either.  Oh rubbish!