Saturday, June 12, 2021

Whiskers, Paws, and Attitude

 Next up in the "Exciting New Developments" series is this guy: 


We named him Jet, because he thinks he's very, very fast. Though "Maverick" might've been even more appropriate, given the flybys and chaos he leaves in his wake.

Still, he's a welcome relief.

Last September, in the middle of pandemic unknowns, battles with depression and panic attacks, and all that ugly mess, we lost all three of our fur babies. All three. In the space of one month. It was one bitter blow after another.

Some predator must've moved through our neighborhood, because several pets vanished at once. First our six year old cat Leo disappeared, then two weeks later, we had to put down our Great Pyrenees. Her hips had given out at last and she could no longer get up by herself. 

On the same morning we delivered our dog to vet for the last time was the last time we saw our 15-year-old cat Gabriel.

We simply didn't know what to do with ourselves. Reading in my cozy chair under my cozy blanket just didn't feel the same without a kitty on my lap. Evening walks with the dog stopped. We had supplies of food and toys, medicines and litter with no critters to use them.

In one horrible rage, I filled a trash bag with every pet thing I could find and tossed it all in the trash and bawled my eyes out.

Slowly we adjusted to being pet-free. No more surprise messes to clean up, like gopher guts on my welcome rug or regurgitated food devoured too fast or wads of white dog wool rolling across the floor. We no longer had to seek out pet-sitters when we went on road trips. Our lint roller fell into disuse, and I got to wear pretty clothes for no reason than I could wear them without fear of cat hair or dog drool spoiling them.

It was nice.

And lonely.

You know it's past time to remedy the situation when all you and your partner text to one another are gifs of adorable kittens. But we waited. We've never had to seek out pets. They've always come to us. So I kept an eye out for kittens who'd gotten lost or dumped. No luck. Seemed, with the pandemic, everyone was keeping their critters close. 

Then on Mother's Day, my husband and I went to have dinner with his family. After dining, his brother said, "Hey, would y'all be interested in a kitten?"

My husband and I looked at each other. He started giving all these excuses about why we didn't want a kitten. We have trips planned, for one (that's in an upcoming post).

Then he said the fatal words, "If there's one that looks like Leo."

His brother showed me a picture. The kitten might've come from the same litter as our lost Leonidas.

I said, "Is it a boy?" (I cannot abide female cats. They're so ... catty.)

The answer the people sent back was "b" for boy. 

"He's mine!" I shouted, as if we were at the world's first-ever kitten auction. We left immediately for the store to replace the supplies I'd thrown away in my grief, then picked up the kitten.

The babies, it seemed, had been moved into the back of an old car, which was about to undergo a restoration project. The mother had either gone hunting or abandoned them and was nowhere to be found.

Now my lap is full. All the time. Even when I'm trying to eat. And type. And I've learned to think of myself as a jungle-gym. And a bathtub. And a chew toy. My happiness is complete.

Jet plays hide-and-seek, afraid I'll steal his favorite toy.

Chilling in the driver's seat, because we all know cats are in charge.





Wednesday, June 9, 2021

A Year Later: Exciting New Developments

 A year is a long time to let a blog sit idle and languish in a state of neglect. The smallest, simplest tasks, those like blogging, lose all draw and seem like impossible millstones to carry around when depression enters the picture.

Last year, as we all know, was terrible. Pile lingering issues on top of pandemic woes and you get a recipe for major breakdowns. It happened to me. Took me out completely. To the point that I finally realized I couldn't "fix" it on my own. I got help. And that brings me to the first exciting development. 

Dopamine blockers are amazing! Everyone needs this stuff. My counselor advised meds thirty minutes into our first session together. So my doc put me on Lexapro. This time last year I never would've admitted that in a public space. But I have zero shame about it. In fact, I'm proud of myself for taking the step. It was more necessary than I realized. 

Both the counselor and doctor said I wouldn't really notice the pill taking effect for a couple of weeks.

Seriously? Greeeeeeat, I thought. Two weeks of hell while this builds in my system, and I can't even drink liquor to dampen the horribleness.

BUT! Thank God, that's not what happened. I took my first dose right before bed -- and woke up in the night feeling like I was floating. The effects were immediate! My poor brain, scored raw by torturous thought processes, felt as if it was swaddled in a cozy silk cocoon. Goodbye depression, goodbye anxiety.

So, it's three months later, and I feel recovered a enough to give a damn about blogging. Hurray!

To spread out the positive and keep things brief, I'll shout out about the other exciting new developments in later posts.