Life with a diabetic cat is like seeing your best friend living in pain, until you have the Neosporin or Tylenol to squelch it.
Our cat, Kitti, is 6 years old. He lives with two 1-year-old cats, Jack & Reluctance. Kitti never was very hospitable to them, as we often began the evening or morning with very loud warning calls from one or the others. Now that he’s been diagnosed, he seems heavily sedated— both to them and to us. He sits at the doorway of their room, rather than wandering in for their food or water. I feel emotionally charged for him to be the same vibrant cat he was, but he must adjust and he must stabilize before we may see that side of him.
I wander through thought the same way he wanders through his day— pacing back through the same paths he’s been, only skirting the same footprints. He lays on our bed, looking at us through those ears and closed eyelids— he’s content now, not readying himself for an attack or a pre-emptive gesture of dominance.
Maybe this is from us leaving for vacation for a week, wherein Candi’s Mom helped feed and maintain the three of them. Maybe, through that week, he saw how invaluable we are to him— just as invaluable as he is to us. He makes our days, when we arrive home and the windowsill is occupied by a paw-walker waiting for our touch and presence. He is our home, a remnant of whom we carry inside of us on our journies to work, and a piece of whom we carry on our clothing.
I really receive random phone calls. People are never on for more than an hour, and, in that hour, I know them as much as I had before they responded to my answering: “I need service or support.” That’s my job.
I always believe these people are good, in some way, and are in desperate need to wash their dishes any way other than by hand. That’s what bothers me: they are in need, and I am the only current support their lives have available. It’s sad, as I really cannot look beyond the phone number and text written, or inflections heard, for a glimpse at their lives. It’s the reverse of being a retail worker: I don’t have to know the customer, just provide them support and repair what they already have, not give them what they may need.
I love this position, in that I know where I can grow within the company. It’s a subtle change, each day, when I realize I am a day closer to being able, having the ability, to join another faction, or rise in this same faction. It is a subtle change, but a change.
enjoying a cookout with fam. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!
enjoying a cookout with fam. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!
Gave the kittens a bath each yesterday. Jack clawed and screamed, but Reluctance was calm and kind. Had to re-teach them how to play with our cloth-hangy-thingy. they eventually started pawing with it. they live in the couch, so playing, to them, has been alienated for 3 months. we must develop their sense of pleasure into an active happiness, rather than a fearful tolerance of Kitti.
purple passion plant had grown roots this week, but they buoyed themselves out of, and the leaflets into, the water. had to plant them right away, but the roots were so craned that they couldn’t be in the soil with the leaves above. had to remove one leaf and the bend to put it back into the water to regrow roots. trying to save the split-off leaf, too.
new car .
Sometimes you have to stay tuned in as to not miss anything as anything is what tells you the story; sometimes you have to look away and know you are missing something, something that may change your view, so you know that what you knew and what you will know may be closer than if separated by what you now know, even if you are allknowing.
God gave us foresight and hindsight, but only the ability to turn our heads to the sides, not completely around. That’s what we have: the ability to see the background from one side or another, and rarely both at once, unless we turn ourselves completely around.
We are young, you and I;
the epitome of style,
justified by our place
in society’s higher.
We are young, you and I,
and spend many breathings
of our hearts without
seeing one -others’ movings,
though know we are
but voices away,
in feelings of warmth
long past any normal home’s
bedtime.
We are young, you and I,
here to be as fore-thought
memories: the times
in change’s grasp
as seasons looked
from distant past..
and I hold these times,
as real as you,
and know they are
but many in few
fleeted glimpses of
what makes us Us
and who we are
as who we were
before.
Sorry for the disjointed style; it doesn’t flow for me, either. The message is out, though, and I can rework it later.
50 Amazingly Helpful Time-Tested for the Kitchen: http://ping.fm/gD0RH
i’m eating a pb&j which is on rye and made with spreadable fruit (blueberry) and natural peanut butter (the oily kind). it’s ok.
candi has this thing where she eats rye bread, and i love it, but it’s hard to fit the slices into the takealongs rubbermaid containers for sandwiches. the containers are square, whereas the rye bread (cobblestone) is rectangular. very odd. i guess corners can be lifted and it will be okay.
candi just called from work and i loves that girl.