I Won!

one angle of garden

Newport Highlands, the 200 unit  townhouse community I live in, had a garden contest this year. I won the contest. It's kind of a hollow victory in lieu of my recent loss, but it's a bright spot in my heart where the flowers bloom and the sun shines in memory of Bear.

My feline pal was always right beside me chasing leaves, digging in the dirt, "helping" me plant flowers, and sniffing the horse pucky. He was the best.

Back to the contest. I won for two main reasons; #1: I had about 200 pounds of horse pucky mulched into the soil and I watered twice a day. The plants loved it. #2: It's not that my garden is so great, it's that everyone else's either dried out due to lack of rain in these parts and they gave up, or they didn't have Bear helping them, or both.

Anyway, I won a $100 gift certificate to Wegmans. When I found out I had won, I was going to run out and get Bear more treats. Instead, I plan on fixing a buffet lunch for our wonderfully supportive maintenance and office staff on Monday in memory of Bear. Life is good.

Sweet Dreams Dear Friend

BEAR

This is the most painful blog post I've ever written, but it has to be done. As a trained grief facilitator, I know it's good therapy. And I need hugs from all of you out there. 

Normally, Bear would be helping me with this post by padding across the computer keys ZZZZZZZZZZZVv11!!!!!!, but he isn't here. He had to be euthanized yesterday. It was so sudden, and such a shock, I can't get my head around it.

Bear was sitting on the front porch with me at 5:30 a.m. for our routine early morning coffee, cat treat "chat". Then I let him back in the house where it was cool and went to the barn. When I returned from the barn, he greeted me at the door as always. I picked him up, gave him his customary cat hug, put him down, then let him outside and left the back door open so he could come in when he got too warm.  When he came back in he "chirped" his usual cheery "hello", then went upstairs to lay on the cool tile in the bathroom. Nothing unusual so far.

Within five minutes I heard a painful meow. I went into my office where he was trying to get comfortable and noticed him breathing heavy with severe panting and inability to use his back legs. I immediately called the vet. They said to bring him right in.

When Dr.Brattom checked Bear's hind legs, Bear had no pulse in either of his back legs and no pink color at the base of his toe nails. One of his back toe nails was purposely cut short to see if it would bleed. There was no blood and absolutely no blood supply to Bear's hind end. He was suffering from cardiomyopathy and getting worse with labored breathing, drooling, and obvious pain. Dr. B looked at me and said, "Pam, I know this is emotionallhy traumatic for you, but it's his time. You don't want him to suffer."

There really was no decision at that point. Before the syringe with the pink liquid was administered Bear looked up at me, in obvious pain, as if to say thank you for this last great act of love. I told the little guy I loved him, and kissed the top of his head. He seemed both resigned and relaxed as he cradled his head in my arm while the vet injected the pink serum into his forearm. Bear's heart stopped beating immediately. It was a relief to see him free from pain and not gasping for every breath. That's the good part. The bad part is Bear isn't here anymore.

I'm sobbing my heart out as I write this post. I have a hole in my heart the size of the Grand Canyon. He was/is a very special cat. He slept on my bed every night, woke me up every morning, and had coffee "chat" with me on the front porch every day for 11 years. He was my best pal. I can't imagine life without him.

 It all happened so fast. He looked great, was playful, and perfectly fine, then within two hours, he was gone. That's cardiomyopathy. It's a  silent killer. Everything appears to be perfectly normal then bammo; it's over.

I feel a smidge better now. Writing is good therapy. Thanks for reading.

Remember, life is fragile. Love one another, hug one another, and know that I love all of you. Oh yes, please say a little prayer to remember Bear and say one for me so I can get through this devasting loss.

Sweet dreams my dear little Bear.

Fried Eggs on Asphalt

Before

After

Scorching is the word for the day. It's 95 degrees in the shade. It's so hot in Rochester, NY today, you can fry an egg on the asphalt.

Hey, ya know what? I think I'll go outside and try that fried egg thing and see what happens. I've been hearing "It's-so-hot-you-can-fry-an-egg-on-asphalt" for years now. I'm gonna go outside and see if it really works. Be right back.

Guess what? It doesn't work. I cracked an egg on the hot asphalt, then went to weed and water the garden for 30 minutes. When I came back to look at the egg, all it did is run into the cracks in the driveway with no evidence of frying anywhere, even though the air temp is 96 degrees.

There are a couple of facts here. First of all I won't be getting the Nobel Prize for best science experiment this year. Second don't believe everything your grandmother tells you about hot summers and being able to fry eggs on asphalt. It's a lot of horse pucky.

To make matters worse, I used up my last egg for that numb skull experiment; now I can't make banana bread tonight. Oh yeah, and I had to clean the driveway.

Horse Pucky Advice: What do I say?

Dear Horse Pucky,

I was invited to an acquaintance's house for dinner, for the first time. When the food was served, I didn't care for the entree. Should I have been gracious and eaten it anyway or told the hostess I don't like squid even though I've never tried it before? I ended up feeding it to the family cat, under the dining room table when no one was looking. ~Don't Like Squid

Dear DLS,

I tried squid once and it tasted like rubber bands. It probably wasn't prepared correctly.

In your case, there are a couple of "firsts" here; first time at a new acquaintance's house, and first time for squid. I would have tried a very small portion of the entree. If you've never had it before, and your hostess cooked it properly, it may have been delicious and you would have added a new taste sensation to your repertoire.

If, on the other hand, the squid reminded you of the strings on an old banjo, I'd be honest with your hostess and tell her you just don't care for squid, but the rest of the meal is delicious. You certainly don't want her to fix squid again for you. You don't want to hurt her feelings either.

As for the cat; if the little fur ball likes squid, regardless of the texture, you may be on to a different kind of cat food flavor. Try calling Purina.  ~Horse Pucky

My New Office Manager



Bear, Office Manager

Bear just got promoted to Office Manger. He types (zzzzzzzzzzzzzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxf), talks to clients (meow), and is an inspiration for those who come to the office.

If you look closely, he just finished reading the local paper. I caught him checking out the want-ads, so I decided to promote him to Office Manager in order to give him more of a challenge.

His benefit package includes more treats, with ample time for a nap. After his nap, he has a chance to work outside catching rodents. Then it's back inside for more schmoozing with clients and padding across the computer. 

I have to tell ya', it's tough keeping good employees if you don't give them the benefits they deserve.  

Limericks

I love *limericks. A friend of mine sent this one to me this morning. I just can't help myself, so I'm gonna' share this with all of you. All I can say is, I wish I wrote it 'cause I think it's really funny. 

There once was a pervert named Weiner,
Who had a perverted demeanor,
Forced from the hill
for acting like Bill,
Now Congress is one Weiner leaner.

HA!

I know what you're all probably thinking; enough of the Weiner jokes already.

*For those of you who are more literary types I've provided an FYI: Limerick is an Irish word that dates back to 1896. The definition of a limerick according to Webster's Collegiate Dictionary: a light or humorous verse form of 5 chiefly anapestic (metrical) verses of which lines 1,2, and 5 are of 3 feet (metrical), and lines 3 and 4 are of 2 feet (metrical) wth a rhyme scheme of aabba.

Suggestion: Try your hand at writing a limerick on any topic. I can't wait to see what you all come up with.