Rest in peace

How exactly does one sum up the life of a loved one? Do we view and review their lives a little less if they are a family pet? I'd say that if you loved your pet even a little, this would not be the case. Love lost is love lost, no matter how many legs your loved one might have.

Numa started what we like to call the herd... I went to find myself a kitten, mean while Numa had other plans. She put on her best face and immediately began to fawn all over my husband. Yeah, you could say she was a bit of a ho'. :) John decided that he wanted the momma kitty (Numa), and I wanted a kitten (Sophie), so we compromised and each got the one we wanted- after I refused to back down.

We took Numa home a year after we were married and let me tell you, that cat drove a wedge between the MISU and I. Litterally. If John and I were snuggling, she would plop herself right down in between us, or on his lap... and the lovins that were once mine were now split between the 2 ladies in his life. I was a jealous wife, I was not happy.

Numa and I came to an understanding early on, the arrangement was still not quite equal if you ask me. She got his attentions during waking hours, and I got what was left over... usually while the MISU sawed logs.

We saw Numa through her second pregnancy, most of which John and I were away in the Persian Gulf. Yup, while her parents were away at war, she got knocked up. Lookin for love in all the wrong places, sheesh. This new litter would give us another of her fur kids, Ivan.

18 of her 19 years were spent with us, and I will say that she was a surly foster mother to 5 other kittens (besides Sophie and Ivan, her own) , and at one time ruling over the Herd- 6 cats. I have affectionately called her Big Momma, or Momma Kitty since then.

Numa never lost her spark or spunk until about a year and a half ago, and since then it had been a slow and steady decline. She had a hard time moving around, she was after all about 166 in human years. Over that last year and a half, John and I had contemplated more times than I have digits to count on whether or not we should put her out of her complete and utter misery. We'd think about calling the vet, talk about calling the very next day, and that would be the day Numa would decide to get up out of bed, clean herself and chat with the family. I kid you not, every single time.

Yesterday was different. I checked on her while she was sleeping and noticed that she had stopped breathing. I continued to watch for several seconds, holding my own breath in dread until I saw her chest move again. This time it lasted over 20 seconds, and her eyes were open. Nausea set in, and I stood there paralyzed. Part of me was relieved... yet so devastated and sad.

Numa repositioned herself and began to breath again, and I continued to stand there in horror. No, she hadn't gone peacefully like I had hoped. She smelled the hot dogs I fixed for the girls and raised her head a bit, and I noticed that just this small movement was quite an effort for her. She was breathing fast and shallow, her eyes half lidded as if she were in pain.

I gave her a few pieces of hot dog which she barely touched, which was very unusual for her.

I called John... and watched her suffer to her feet. She moved around painfully and restlessly for another half an hour until she finally couldn't take any more... and uncomfortably went back to bed.

Yesterday, we had to make 5th decision in 4 1/2 years... It never gets easier, it never gets less painful.

We decided to bring her home and bury her under our pine tree in the back yard, and put the ashes of Yuri (who died 12 years ago as a kitten, from a heart problem), Ursa, Seven, and the ashes of her kids Ivan and Sophie with her. We said a prayer and thanked God for sending Numa to us, for giving us such a wonderful, noisy and sometimes grumpy cat. We thanked Him for taking care of her for us now, and for showing her the way to the place where her kids and foster kids now play.

It's the end of an era and almost 2 decades, lady... we love you and miss you. You were such a good kitty.

Rest in peace, Big Momma.

Wordless Wednesday- He's NOT fat... He's just big boned ;)

ICHC Kitteh Zoey

Four Things About Me

My friend Judy tagged me for this meme, thanks Judy! :D

FOUR JOBS I HAVE HAD IN MY LIFE:
1. My very first job as in the family owned "sweat shop"... We all of a sudden were the cleaning crew for an advertising agency for extra cash. My younger brother was 7 or 8 when we started and we worked very hard for little money.

2. Cashier at the local grocery store, down in the boon docks.

3. Corpsman (medic) in the United States Navy. :D

4. LVN or LPN depending on which state you're in.



FOUR MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1. So I Married An Axe Murderer

2. Wedding Crashers

3. North By Northwest

4. Anne of Green Gables


FOUR PLACES I HAVE LIVED:
1. Hell.

2.Treasure Island, California (formerly a Naval base)

3. Oakland, California (when it was the murder capital of the US, Yipeee!)

4. Hayward, California


FAVORITE FOODS:
1. Since I have lost my craving for it I'm sad to say that chocolate, the previous reigning champion has lost it's heavy weight belt to steak and burgers. Which brings this saying to mind: I love animals. They taste good.

2.Any Asian food. Especially sushi which I haven't had any of in over a year :(

3. Any kind of pasta. I heart carbs, much to my butt's dismay.

4. Sorry chocolate, but at least you still make the top 4. Right?


PLACES I WOULD RATHER BE NOW:
1. Italy

2.Greece

3. S.F.

4. Eastern Shore, Maryland


FOUR PEOPLE I TAG TO DO THIS MEME:
1. Michelle

2. Maggie

3. Slackermommy

4. Dorky Dad



By the way... I was wondering if any of you have lost a pet unexpectedly? My bud Michelle
just lost her beautiful furbaby Coco during a dental cleaning procedure while under anesthesia. I know like a lot of people, Michelle felt like Coco was more than a pet and was just another member of the family. Michelle and her family are doing better, but Coco passed away on Tuesday. If you would like to, please head over and show her some love right now. Thanks.

Manic Monday: Seven

Today's Manic Monday was brought to you by the word SEVEN :D

When I think of the number or word seven, I always think of a big burly man I used to have in my life. When I think of him, all of his funny little quirks come to mind.

He loved the smell of my just washed hair and would often rub his face in it. He loved to put his head in my lap and gaze lovingly into my eyes until drifting off to sleep... always with a smile on his face. If I was having milk or cereal, he insisted on having the same and would sometimes eat out of my bowl.

I miss him so much, that even the thought of one of his less endearing habits brings a smile to my face: he liked to pee on my furniture and twice when I was pregnant with each of my children ... he tried to pee on me.

Now that you are completely mystified- or horrified- I'm talking about my furangel Seven.

I miss his "Got Milk?" mustache, and the feel of him hefting himself onto my lap or on my side while I was sleeping. I miss how he would climb onto the back of the couch purring so he could mark his territory with his face- all over my head. I miss the way his little meow didn't match the size of him, he was a big boy. I'd put up with a lot just to hold him for one more moment... including a little (or a lottle) pee on my couch.

I miss you Seven... I hope to see you again, even if it's only in my dreams.

Late night visitor

I had a visitor last night, after everyone was asleep. She often comes late at night, but I don't mind. Actually I am always happy to see her, and I cherish those moments ... however fleeting.

We have known each other for 12 years or so, and she was there for me during some really rough times. When I lost my baby 3 years ago, she was there to comfort me. She sat with me while I sobbed and though no words were spoken, her green eyes told me so much.

What made this so wonderful was even though she was showing signs of being ill, and was beginning to lose weight- she never faltered in her unconditional love. Months later she would indeed be very ill. When I think of her, I cry tears of joy and sadness. I miss her so much.

Last night, in my sleep... she came to me. She was not the first cat that I was to be own by, but she and her brother were adopted at a time when I longed for something to love and nurture, but knew children would never be.



When we adopted Ursa and Yuri, they were only 3 weeks old. We came for one of course, and I immediately chose Yuri. He slept at the bottom of a wiggly fur pile, and all I could see of him was a black and white nose with a bit of orange. It turned out that the bit of orange was formula, but I loved him anyway. As I held him in my arms, the volunteer told us that because they were so young, needing bottle feedings every 2-3 hours, we would have to take two. My husband, being the practical man he is reminded me that we already had 3 cats and tried to steer me in another direction. Bottle feeding? How perfect! I couldn't imagine anything else... my husband on the other hand was less than enthused. I stood my ground and refused to budge.

With a helpless sigh my husband and I tried to decide between a pair of twins. "Pick the quiet one," he said, pointing to the gray and white ball of fur that wasn't yeowling at the top of her lungs when touched. Thinking that we had picked a pair of quiet and cuddly kittens, the joke was on us!

Ursa and Yuri turned out to be yin and yang. Where Ursa showed more personality and intellect than the average kitten- being wiry with scant fur, Yuri was dumb as a rock, but very sweet and cuddly, soft and fluffy. Since I was the proud momma of 2 baby kittens, I tried to use what knowledge I had to be a momma kitty to them. I bonded with them by actually licking their necks (I know, I am a goof!) and rubbing my chin on them as if I were grooming them, and used wash clothes to wipe their bums... to stimulate elimination like momma kitties do.

Though we tried to keep them in a box, they soon learned to climb out and we would wake to find them curled up on our necks. Years and many pounds later, Ursa would still attempt at sleeping on our necks but learned that our pillows were more spacious and comfy. I can't tell you how many times I woke to find that I had been sleeping on a tiny corner of my pillow, while the Green Eyed Goddess slept luxuriously on the rest.

I truly believe that Ursa thought she was human, having been adopted at such a young age. She called my name (Maaaa!), talked back, and answered her name when called. She also showed signs of sibling jealousy when Anna was born, and was very upset that the new furless addition was so noisy and intruded on her precious lap time. So, she got my attention by crying like a new born baby at the top of our stairs. Many times I was confused because though I could hear a baby crying, it wasn't coming from Anna's baby monitor. She like to take showers with me occasionally, but always jumped in the tub when I was done... cleaning her hind quarters after a good soaking. She also liked to share our drinks, but would test the temperature with the tip of her paw first. After she discovered the joys of licking moisture from her paws, she would was her hands after using the litter box. Unfortunately , it was in the water that every other fur kid drank from, requiring frequent water changes and cleaning.

Yuri would have a short life, and would suffer through 3 months of labored breathing. I noticed one day after he and Ursa had been spayed/neutered at 5-6 months that he seemed to be short of breath and his lungs sounded wet. We took him in, and after a heart ultra sound we were told that he had a heart valve birth defect. Several times a day we gave him pills of baby aspirin and Lasix (a diuretic), many times to find that the little booger had cheeked them and spit them out under the bed. I guess he was a lot smarter than we gave him credit for. Yuri died at 9 months, shortly after speeding him to the vet after finding him gasping for air. I think we both new he would die that day, but that didn't stop us from driving as fast as we could , both of us in hysterics at the though of losing the sweetest and most loving cat we had ever known. Our baby.

Ursa, we realized, had probably known all along that something was wrong with Yuri. She practically cleaned the fur off of that kid. She constantly licked and fussed over him. He never fought her, he would just lay there and let her do her thing, softly purring and squinting in delight.

That would be the first day Ursa would bite me on the foot, and not the last. All she knew was that I was taking her sick brother somewhere, I was putting him in the carrier as he yelped and gasped. When we came home without him, she bit me once more, only harder. I knew she blamed me, since I was the one who had stuffed him in the crate, and I cried harder.

Every once in a while, at least once a day, Ursa would come up and give me a good chomp on the foot in passing, lest I forget (in her eyes). I never forgot. Yuri died April 3rd, just 2 days before my best friend was married. Still , to this day, on that day every year I weep for him. But always with a smile.

Last night, in my dreams she came to me... and bit me. It's been almost three years since she has done that, almost three years since we put Ursa to sleep for cancer, just 3 short weeks after John dad passed away from the same. Only this time, she bit me on my hand.

I am hoping that since she has had almost threes year of catching up with Yuri in furball heaven, she may have finally forgiven me.

Miss you, Ursa. I can't wait to see you again, even if it's in the my dreams.

Wordless Wednesday- Remembering my fur-angels

Sophie- Numa's daughter from her first litter


Ivan- Numa's son from a second litter, Sophie's brother


Seven- Wolfie's brother


Yuri- Ursa's brother


Ursa-boo

Wordless Wednesday #4, True Love

I know, this is supposed to be wordless, and trust me ... when I saw this picture on my Yahoo homepage yesterday, I was speechless. I can't tell you how much I love this photo. I have always been a cat lover, big and small, and though I know this a monstrous and wild animal in this picture... I wish that could have been me. :O) This woman is amazing, read about her here.

Sleeping Kitten, Hidden Airway- Wordless Wednesday #2