I took Gabby Abby to the Vet for her post adoption checkup.
She's been sneezing a bit which I think is from a touch of kennel cough from her being at the Humane Society with other animals.
The Vet checked her over and thinks that she might be much younger then the HS noted on her chart.
We had been told she was 1 1/2 years old. The vet seems to think she is about 8-9months old! (This would explain why she is still so tiny)
The good news is her kennel cough isn't real bad. The bad news is she has a broken tooth and it needs to be extracted.
One of her back molars is decaying :(
We will be scheduling her to have tooth surgery in a couple of weeks--after she's done taking antibiotics for her kennel cough.
The antibiotics is in liquid form. We have to shove a eyedropper and a half full of the stuff down her tiny gullet once a day.
She was great the first time I gave it to her. The second time she wasn't having anything to do with it and protested mightily!
I wrapped her up in a towel and handed her to Lord V to hold while I attempted to get the medicine in her mouth. She wriggled and struggled to get out of the towel hold, swishing her head from side to side to avoid the medicine dropper--but we managed to get it down her right before she freed her back feet and dug her claws into Lord V's inner thigh!
Friday afternoon, Lord V, MiniWarrior and I went to go see the movie "UP".
I wasn't really in the right mind frame to go see a kids movie as I was/am still grieving over losing our Guido, but I thought it would be good for MiniWarrior to be out of the house and to have something that would make him laugh.
Lord V and I were blown away with how wonderful this movie was. Without giving you too many details (as I don't want to ruin the movie if you haven't see it yet) I will say that the message in this movie is powerful, heart rending and uplifting all wrapped up in a huge bubble of animation brilliance.
It was because of this movie that I finalized my decision to get another kitty.
I urge you to go see it.
You'll understand what I mean when you do.
Oh...and before I forget. HAPPY FATHERS DAY to all of you men out there who created or help raise a child in your life.
There is something so deep and precious about a mans hand on a child's life. I hope you all never underestimate how much you are valued.
I had an interesting event happen yesterday to me at work.
Awhile back, I'm thinking over a month ago--I can't remember exactly, I found a wallet on my lunch walk.
It was pretty beat up and, from what I could see in my quick peek at it for identification, filled with money and strange odds and ends.
I could only imagine the horror at losing my wallet. It's more then money lost...its the deeply personal things we put in it that cannot be replaced.
As there was no identification, I brought it to the guards at my work. They had me put my name down on a piece of paper so they could put who dropped it off in their reports and that was that.
Or so I thought.
Yesterday the building manager came to me with my Boss and presented to me an award along with the saga of the wallet.
Apparently they had quite a bit of trouble trying to locate the owner. There was no identification in the wallet. There was, however, a receipt for a bank.
They contacted the bank and had the teller put a note on the persons account directing them to the guards at our building and that they had the wallet.
A month passed with no contact...then one day, a man approached the guards.
He was dirty and appeared to be carrying his belongings in a bag attached to his shoulder. He was mentally and physically challenged. He cautiously approached the guards and inquired about his wallet.
When they presented it to him, complete with the 120.00 dollars that he had in it, he began to cry and jumped up and down frantically hugging the guards.
The building manager told me that they all had tears in their eyes, witnessing the joy of this man.
The award was nice and the kudos that have come my way, frankly, quite embarrassing as I think--truly--that I did nothing more then others would have done...but the ending? To hear about the joy? God. That made me feel wonderful.
MiniWarrior is always losing things. He rolls his eyes at me when I tell him to tuck his money back into his wallet or pocket. He has concentration issues and loses track of things very quickly if he doesn't tuck them safely away. I fret about it and when I cannot be there to keep him from losing important things later in his adult life.
I'm hoping I just bought him a little good karma :) That someone, someday, somewhere, will take the time to turn in something he's lost and they can share the joy with him.
An eclectic couple with large hearts that "he" hides behind with his gravely man voice and stoic stance while "she" flits around and sprinkles gentleness like dust from butterfly wings.
"He" was the one who introduced Lord V to me 6 years ago: "I know someone you're going to like, she's a good gal..."
And for months while Lord V and I were beginning to date and getting to know each other he would call me faithfully, each night, inquiring how my day was and how things were going.
A short, 2 minute call, like a Dad checking in.
He seemed to know when we moved past the stage of dating and into the deeper relationship of falling in love. The nightly phone calls stopped. He no longer checked in. He handed his watch over to Lord V with faith that I was in good hands.
They stood around me last night while I grilled huge T-bone steaks on our outdoor BBQ. The air was moody with the smell of oncoming rain and mingled nicely with the cooking food.
We talked of their recent travels and work around their garden at home. They exclaimed over my new garden and listened to my plans for more yard renovations while I shifted the meat on the flames and shook the grill basket of roasted red potatoes, carrots and onions cooking slowly beside the steaks.
The flow of our chatter followed into the dining room where we consumed our feast over cold glasses of beer and a bottle of red wine.
We finished with Key Lime Pie and French press coffee then ambled to the family room to the sofa and talked until the sun went to bed and the stars peeked through our windows.
I yawned and like a mother hen "she" gathered up "him" and declared it time for me to get to bed as I had to work early in the morning.
Hugs, manly handshakes and a wave as they drove back to their home and the evening was done.
I awoke this morning and the heaviness that has pressed upon me since the death of my friend was lighter, more bearable. The pain still lingers like a canker sore inside me, but its better and I find myself smiling today.
So yeah, I've spent the last week moping around questioning the futility of humanities exhausting grind through life.
I realize this is a natural process of grieving. The minds shock of a life and all it entails suddenly "gone".
I wish I had answers as to what is on the other side of life. That mysterious place where we go when we leave this world.
Unfortunately, all my religious studies in college answered nothing for me, thus my Agnostic stance.
The world, as I knew it, before my friends death has changed. I look at familiar things and they have taken on a strangeness.
There is a hollowness inside me. An empty spot that was reserved for Mikey.
I find myself talking to him. Asking him to let me know he's OK. That I understand he is busy with watching over his family and, I'm sure, the shock of no longer being part of this earth...but to please, let me know there is more then this life.
More then the daily grind that ends in...
So yeah. I'm in the state of what psychologists would label as "grieving".
Grieving. Such a small word for a flood of feeling.
I don't have any answers. No guide book to life and the here-after. I just know that my friend was once here, laughing with me, grousing with me about work, pondering life and family and struggling to answer his grandsons billionth "WHY, Grandpa" question...and now he isn't.
He isn't here.
And I am.
All that makes up life continues and I watch my right foot follow my left as I move forward. Ever forward, because that's what we do.
We laugh and cry. Fight and embrace. Eat and sleep. Ponder and Dream...
We live. Until...we don't.
There is no other solution. No other recipe we can follow.
I took an extra moment this weekend to stroke the soft skin on my sons cheek, tracing the line of freckles that dance across his nose.
I played his favorite game of frogs with him and revelled in the sound of his laughter.
I let him have that extra half cup of coffee.
I baked cinnamon twists for my little family to enjoy with their Saturday morning coffee because it filled the house with the happy smell of home.
I walked and picked wild flowers, arranging them in a vase with some roses that grow along side our house.
I curled up on the sofa in the living room and shared the afternoon silence with Lord V as we read our books.
And today friends are coming over for a BBQ.
There will be laughter and feasting and shared life experiences.