Ramblings of the confused

Wishing a great big happy birthday to my best friend in the world, headbanger118 .

I threw her a little party on Saturday. She got a gift from captainsblog and plantmom that was a very nice surprise!



Hilarity always ensues. Always.



Singing "Happy Birthday", whilst Terri cuts the cake.




I was actually there! That's nonspecific in the kittycathat.




( It's a birthday cut. )

And it's snowing. Again. I think this may be a long winter.

Dad and I made a snowman in front of their big window, so mom can see it from the sofa. I don't think I've seen him smile this much in a month. :-) He was like a little kid playing in the snow with me. Unfortunately, all the good wet, packing snow fell Friday night, and what we got last night was powdery and too fluffy to build a good snowman. I really wanted to build an igloo. Maybe next time. Like, twelve years from now when we get our NEXT big snow.







This little chapel in Madison County, NC is where my ex wanted us to get married, but it wasn't big enough to hold our massive guest list. It's a pretty spot though, and I hated that we didn't get to use it.



Betcha didn't know there were ski resorts in my neck of the woods, huh? Wolf Laurel, NC is ten minutes from my old house.



This is just around the corner from where I grew up. I often found scenes like this when I woke up in the morning, because we got a LOT of snow.

OK, no mom news (hopefully on Wed., I'll have some), so I'm gonna ask you about my cats and see if anyone can figure this the heck out.

I did a really awful and irresponsible thing on Thanksgiving, but I swear it wasn't my fault. No, really. It was sleep deprivation and not having my wits about me (gee, I wonder why...)

So, normally when I come in, I drive into the garage, lower the door and come through the house like a normal person. But I realized on Thanksgiving Day that the garbage cans were still out, and had been at the curb all week. So I left the garage door up, brought in the garbage cans and then entered through the front door, rather than through the garage. And then I forgot to lower the door from inside the house. Do you see where this is going?

The boys wanted to go out in the garage, as they often do, and I just opened the door that goes from the house into the garage and let them out there. About, oh, 15-20 minutes passed and I was making something to eat, when I realized "oh. crap." I went running to the door, looked out, and sure enough, garage door is wide open. Fortunately, I found both boys right at the house. In fact, Trouble had not actually left the garage, although General was lounging on the sidewalk in front of the house. I was ever-so-grateful that since neither of them has been outdoors since I've had them, that they had the good sense to stick close to home. I scooped them both up and put them safely indoors while I lowered the garage door, then went about trying to find the girls. Both of them were huddled up underneath the futon like they were scared to death. I think maybe they'd looked out and seen the big, bad world, and declared they didn't want any part of it. Smart girls.

So, when Trouble and General came in from the great outdoors, they started hissing and growling at each other, and it eventually escalated to honest-to-God fighting. Because I seriously need a little more stress in my life, y'know? I finally had to separate them, because (a) I had to be up at 4:30 the next morning to get to the hospital and couldn't sleep for their yowling and (b) I was afraid they were going to hurt or kill each other. I kept General in my bedroom, where he normally sleeps and left Trouble out in the rest of the house. The following morning, they were still sort of stalking each other, but at least they could be in the same room without ripping each other to shreds. By the time I was ready to leave, they were tolerant of each other, so I felt OK leaving them in the same environment together. When I got home Friday night, they seemed sort of "meh." Not friendly by any stretch of the imagination, but they largely ignored each other. However, every now and then, a scuffle would break out and they'd be at it again. The weird thing is, even though Trouble is now much bigger, General was still quite obviously the Alpha cat, and when they'd playfight before, Trouble would always submit and General came out the victor. He never backed down. Since their little foray outdoors, General has been hiding like a little scared kitten and Trouble is quite obviously in control now. Why the power shift? I don't get how 15 minutes outside has changed the dynamic in our household THAT much.

My question is, do any of you have a clue as to what might have gone on? I'm wondering if they got a whiff of an un-spayed girl kitty? Or just the general smells of the outdoors? If that's the case though, I frequently leave the windows open to the screens, so they get smells of Outside. They're just not actually out IN it. And have any of you had a similar instance happen where all of a sudden a less powerful kitty suddenly overthrows the sitting government and takes power? It's just weird and I don't like it. General is almost 13 years old. Trouble is a year and a half, and nearly 20 pounds of solid muscle. I'm afraid he could hurt General (which had oddly never been a concern before, because General kept him in his place.) They're both neutered, so I don't know how it could be a testosterone thing, but they're driving me mad. last night, whenever Trouble would walk through the room, General would run and hide under the bed. It breaks my heart that he is scared to be out in his own home.



I want brothers to love each other again. :-/ I miss my boys getting along and being best friends. Will they ever get back to The Way We Were, or now that Trouble has established his dominance, is he gonna be keeping that title?

Cat people, advice please!!!

This is one of my favorite pictures of Oreo. She looks like she's doing an ad for Excedrin or something. I think that's pretty much how we both felt over her whole ordeal being "lost."

She finally came out from behind the bed, around 11 last night and ate some cat treats. I put down a can of food just for her and she scarfed almost the whole thing down. She's come out very cautiously a few times and I've gotten to pet her a bit, but I think it may be a while before she totally gets over the trauma. The other cats kept sniffing her like "where have YOU been?"

I'm still so happy to have my little floofball home!!!!

I was hoping that my first post in a while might be a bit happier news, but unfortunately I have to report that I am completely distraught and panic-stricken.

Tuesday night, Oreo did not come out when I put down a can of food for the cats. I didn't think *that* much about it, because sometimes she holes up somewhere and sleeps really soundly. She has "disappeared" before, but always came out within a few hours. I remember one time a couple of years ago when I stayed up until about 5am looking for her, only to have her come slinking through the hallway an hour later. But when she didn't come out for breakfast the following morning (yesterday), I knew something was wrong. I looked everywhere for her...in cabinets, drawers, closets, boxes, everywhere I could think to look. She was nowhere to be found. I've gone through the garage, and again, nothing. I walked and drove up and down the street, hoping against hope not to find her in the road, but again, nothing. (I did find a black and white cat that had been hit by a car near my house, but I'm 99% sure that it is short-haired and a boy.)

I don't understand this. I am SO super-diligent about keeping the cats safe. If they go to the garage (which I sometimes do let them do), I always do a nose count before I leave. I'm completely paranoid about anyone coming in and out my door and even have a sign on my door about making sure to watch for cats. I fear that she may be sick, hurt or even dead and has crawled in a little crevice somewhere that I cannot find her, because I can't fathom how she'd get outside. Anyone who has ever been to my house knows how crazy I am about watching the cats to keep them safe.

My dad's coming over today to help me look again, and I've been checking the local animal shelter just in case she did somehow get out and they've picked her up. I submitted a lost cat report with a picture of her, but I don't hold out much hope for that. She is so shy and timid, catching her would be next to impossible.

I was actually beginning to feel a little better, but this has just been so devastating and I have a really bad feeling that the outcome will not be good. Even if she is dead...which I hope against hope is not the case...I just want to KNOW. Wondering where or how she is, if she's out wandering lost, hungry and cold is absolutely killing me. Of all the cats, she is my baby, the one who is so totally dependent upon me. Thinking that she could be out on her own is just unbearable.

Very soon, I'm supposed to do something that I really, REALLY don't want to do. A year ago, when I had all the kitties to the vet for their shots and checkup, my doctor told me that General needed to have his teeth cleaned. He did have some noticeable yucky spots, and there were a couple of places on his gums which seemed overly red and inflamed. However, this checkup took place about two weeks after Sabrina's death which happened when...she was having her teeth cleaned. Now, I know the situations are completely different. Sabrina was asthmatic and had had respiratory issues her whole life. I knew going into the surgery that there was a risk with the sedation, and I had a really horrible feeling about it, but I still trusted the vet that it needed to be done.

General is healthy as a horse and at the age of nearly 13 still plays like a kitten. If you just looked at him or played with him, you'd never guess he was a "senior" cat. But the truth is, in January he will in fact, be 13 years old. There's a risk in sedating any cat, or well...anyone in general, animal or human. But age is a big factor in these things. Last year when the vet told me he needed to have his teeth cleaned, I said there was no way I could do it then. I'd *just* lost Sabrina, and to think that I could potentially be sentencing General to the same fate? No way. So, I was told that it wasn't *that* bad, I could wait a little while and see how he was doing at his next checkup.
The last time we were at the vets, which was just recently, he actually didn't see much change. In the past year, I've been getting them the expensive good cat foods, so I like to think that maybe that's helped. But I was reminded again that periodonatal disease in cats can lead to heart disease, discomfort when eating and a plethora of other ills. He asked if General ever drooled. Well, yeah...he drools a lot, but he always has. But he only drools when he's lying on my tummy, purring contentedly, and it comes from the front of his mouth, not the back area where the affected teeth are. He doesn't drool when he eats. He drools because he loves his mommy. He never has any trouble eating, and isn't dropping any weight. Well, that is actually kind of untrue. He had lost a bit at his last appointment, but that was good, as he was overweight before. He's gone from 17 to 15 pounds, which is more desirable and healthy for a cat his age. Thus far he's maintained the 15ish pound range for a while now and he looks fantastic. No more belly dragging the ground. I'm certain that the better cat foods have helped that.

So, this is my quandry. He's doing fine, at least outwardly, without the teeth cleaning. However, if he WAS hurting, it's not like he could tell me, y'know? I've heard that vets make a lot of money on teeth cleaning, and they often use scare tactics to pressure their clients into getting it done, even when it's not absolutely necessary. And it IS expensive, but if he truly needs to get it done, I will. I just wonder, is my vet being honest? And is the risk worth the potential benefit? He might (heaven forbid) die of natural causes in a couple of years, whether or not he had clean teeth. Or if I DO get them cleaned, it could extend his lifespan by another five or more years. I just don't know. And I'm so torn. I mean, I obviously want to do what's best for ALL my cats. The girls are no spring chickens either...they both just turned 12, but evidently their teeth are just fine and neither of them have any health problems whatsoever.

headbanger118 has already said that she will go to the vet with me, if I do have it done. And I would sit in the waiting room for five hours, if I need to. No way I'm leaving him there by himself. I'm going back and forth and I just have no answers.

[Poll #1471242]

My knee has been giving me FITS for the past week and a half. I was attempting to train for the Komen 5K and the next day, it felt like it just sort of blew out. I really want to do this race, so I'm going to try wrapping it and doing whatever I can to get it back to normal. A couple of you have already contacted me about pledging, which is really awesome. I hope to not be hobbling across the finish line on a busted knee!

I have like two seconds to update (OK, maybe not *that* little, but not much), because I'm at ETSU working on an assignment. Yeah, on a Sunday night. How motivated am I? Anyway, I just had to write about something that made me so very happy today.

For a while now I've been wanting a black peacoat. For one thing, I think they're just incredibly snazzy, and also, being wool, they're very warm and I am a cold-natured little thing. Last year, my cousin got one for Christmas, and I was admiring it, but I just couldn't bring myself to shell out the cash to get one of my own. Today however, I went up to the cabin to help my parents clean. They're getting ready to have some work done on the attic (finishing up the walls, which are now just framed in, and putting down flooring.) They wanted to clean some up there, and get rid of things that needed to be gotten rid of. Some of it was my stuff, so I went up to help out. We found a huge box of clothes, which was a regular walk down memory lane. My first band uniform, AND my first cheerleading uniform from 6th grade was in that box, as was the dress I wore the first day of school, my flower girl dress from my aunt and uncle's wedding and a couple of my t-shirts that I bought in Europe. We also found my mom's wedding dress and the outfit that my dad bought her their first Christmas together. Dad found a ton of stuff from his youth as well. And you wonder how I got to be such a sentimental schmuck/packrat. My parents save everything.

Mom lifted out this big, very heavy garment bag and said "hmm, wonder what's in here?" It was dad's dress Navy uniform, AND his government issue official Navy peacoat that he had from basic training in Great Lakes, IL!!! Seeing as my dad weighed 130 lbs when he joined the Navy (this was with him standing 6ft. tall...the guy was a beanpole), I thought "wonder if I could wear it?" I tried it on, practically holding my breath, because I WANTED that coat. The sleeves are a bit too long and come down over my hands, but through the waist and shoulders, it is a perfect fit. It's super heavy, has those cool Navy anchor buttons and says "US Navy" on the tag. Man, oh man, I am so friggin' proud of that thing! It comes down about mid-calf and will keep me incredibly warm. Naturally, after being closed up in a box for 43 years, it's a bit musty and there's a spot on the back that can hopefully be removed. But I'm taking it to the dry cleaners tomorrow and will see what they can do with it. Finding that coat absolutely made my day.

I was just thinking the other day that I've not had a "true" migraine (as in, full-blown) in probably a couple of months. In migraine years, that's like a lifetime, because I normally get at least a 2-3 per month, sometimes more. Well, I shouldn't have been thinking, because I now have been stricken. Or is that struck? Strucken?

It started yesterday afternoon, as a seemingly normal headache, but I soon felt it moving to the left side, which is my usual side for a migraine. I sedated myself and went to bed fairly early last night in hopes that it might go away. No such luck. This morning, it was back with a vengeance and had moved to the right side, which is never A Good Thing. If you are a migraine sufferer, you probably tend to get them on the same side of your head each time, but on the rare occasion that they strike the other side, you usually know you're in for a whopper, and not of the Burger King variety. I have felt like absolute death today. Seriously, death.

I'm out of Imitrex and have no hopes of scoring any at the moment. So I've been making up cocktails of Acetominophen and aspirin, which has done nothing but make me nauseous. I finally decided I needed a Coke, so I set out for the store to get one. I don't keep soda at my house, well..ever. Because if I did, I'd drink them. I so rarely have caffeine that when I DO have a migraine, I can use it to my benefit to treat it. I had some Excedrin Migraine in the car, which is basically the aforementioned cocktail of Acetominophen and aspirin, spiked with a dose of caffeine. I had two left, so I got the bright idea to take them in my car as I was drinking the Coke. I dropped one into the black hole under the seat of my car and never found it. Yay me.

So, now the pain seems to have dulled a bit, but my eye is all twitchy and I look like I'm up to something. As I was driving from the store, I could've sworn I saw a huge flock of birds go flying by, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was merely sky. Then I almost ran into a car going through the parking lot, but thankfully I narrowly avoided any bodily harm. I keep seeing things go flying in front of my eye which I think is a gnat, so I swat at it, but I'm pretty sure there's nothing really there. Once I start talking to myself, I will totally have the Crazy Homeless Lady act down. Oh wait, I already do that.

Man, it's been a day. A day that I'd really like to end.