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Archive for October, 2008

Court Date

I got a postcard in the mail with my court date on it.  Yes I’m going to court.

The violation occurred October 14.  I got home from work, and saw Omaha was in dire shape.  I put him in a carrier and rushed to the car and started driving to the nearest emergency animal hospital.  I could maybe have made it to my regular veterinarian clinic, but I wasn’t sure I’d get there before they closed and obviously he needed care and I hated to make my vet stay after hours AGAIN for me.

So, I’m driving to the emergency vet, and I’m crying and screaming and begging Omaha, the powers-that-be, anyone and everything to PLEASE not let me lose Omaha… not now, not so soon after Afer… and traffic is HORRIBLE and I’m getting NOWHERE and EVERY SINGLE TRAFFIC LIGHT, I kid you not, is RED.  Every single one.  Every one.   The trip to the emergency vet is taking FOREVER.
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Hanging on by a thread

No, not another self-pitying post about the loss of my cats.

It’s all about pants.  My pants.  My stupid pants.

If you’ve met me, you know I’m incredibly fashion-challenged.  Love Tim Gunn, but if he met me, I’m certain it could be the death of him.

Today I’m wearing a henley sweater and gray pinstripe trousers.  These pants are pretty darn new, by my standards, I bought them in August.  I’ve only worn them a few times. 

While walking to the train this morning, I noticed the hem on the left pant leg has FALLEN OUT.  Fabulous.  Now it’s dragging in the dirt, looking pretty darn sad.  Four little safety pins I use at work to “mend” the pant leg likely fools NO ONE. 
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Okay

How am I doing?

I’ve been asked the question more times than I can count over the past week. Sometimes by people just making small talk or as a casual greeting, other times by those that know I’ve suffered the loss of two cats in four days. To the latter, I sometimes reply to the effect I’m carrying on, or I’m hanging in there… but the vast majority of times I simply reply I’m okay.

Truth of the matter – I’m NOT okay. It’s NOT okay to lose something so precious. The pain is a physical ache in my heart. It’s almost fitting Louie ruptured an anal sac, as the raw open wound he physically exhibits seems to reflect my broken heart.
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It’s been a pretty bad month at Lintee Bean’s house. No question.

Louie seemed a little lethargic the weekend of September 28 and 29. Saturday night, he didn’t eat much dinner – and he ate none of his breakfast this morning. Due to his diabetes and FIV+ status, I was particularly concerned, though other than some inappetance, higher blood sugar levels than typical, and being a little less active than usual, there were no symptoms I could point a finger at. He cried a bit if I picked him up. I closed him in the bathroom Sunday night to get a urine sample. He tested negative for ketones, but the urine was pretty bright yellow and there wasn’t much of it, so I gave him some sub-q fluids. Monday morning I took him to the vet’s office.

Once there, the veterinary assistant takes his temperature, but he is screaming and hissing at her. That is NOT like him. The assistant notices his back legs are wet and thinks he may have peed in the carrier.. but she starts cleaning it up and he is SCREAMING and she sees it’s blood. It doesn’t smell like urine or diarrhea… just mucus and blood. I look in the carrier and there’s just a tiny bit of blood – so we decide it must have happened as we took him out of the carrier.
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Heart and Soul

I’d written recently of my loss of Afer E Granny, my “heart”.

When it rains, it pours – I lost Omaha, my “soul”, last night.  Perhaps they were meant to make this journey together.  Perhaps the powers-that-be just felt as long as I was grieving, best dump everything on me at once.  I don’t know, but my heart aches and my home feels empty and life isn’t the same without them.

I never knew Omaha healthy, nor has anyone I know.  He was admitted to the shelter with leg/hip injuries and potential neurological damage.  So, I have difficulty imagining him running free now – but I’m sure he is.

Omie da Great

Omie da Great

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I am in support of “mandatory” spay/neuter in Chicago.  While, primarily due to the great lack of animal control officers, I doubt there will be enough enforcement, it would be something… and if nothing else, those that violate other laws (such as dogfighting) but can’t be convicted of it for lack of evidence, could at a minimum be fined for violating the mandatory spay/neuter.  It would also HELP. You would not believe the number of shelter admissions I’ve seen who are DECLAWED but not SPAYED and obviously have mothered litters of kittens.  These are obviously NOT feral cats, and not cats for whom the owners couldn’t afford a low-cost spay given they could afford to the cat declawed.
The ordinance would exclude registered breeders – however there are NO breeders in Chicago registered with the USDA – yet I’ve seen numerous for sale at a local pet store (I will not shop at) and advertised at my vet’s office.
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Completion

I love all my cats, past and present. I have to admit, though, two of them are a bit special to me. I don’t love them any more than the others, but there’s just this particular feeling about those two. I suspect it’s because I didn’t adopt these two cats because they needed me (unlike the others), but because, in a way, I needed them. Adopting them just seemed to complete my life and my home. A shelter staff member once laughed at the first two I’d chosen from their organization, these two, saying they were the “yin and yang” of the shelter. I often said it was as though they were my heart and my soul: Afer my heart, so brave and strong, slightly elusive, expressing pure joy at the simple pleasures of being petted or brushed, a bit of cheese or sour cream from my plate… Omaha my soul, so smart and loyal, hardened by life yet so protective of those he loved, distrusting and willing to fight to the end for what he wanted (or didn’t want), ready to do whatever he wanted or needed to do despite any obstacles faced…
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