Pets

I haven't done very well with being consistent here. I'm not sure if there is some unwritten rule about how often one is supposed to blog. Oh well! I guess I'll just do it when the urge strikes.

On that note, our cat, Holly, returned to us last night after being missing since Sunday afternoon. We had been out on several searches for her with no results. We weren't sure where exactly to look, and if we should look for a body along the road, or a cat in need of ambulatory care. All in all, it was very frustrating. My biggest worry was that she was hurt somewhere and suffering and I couldn't get to her and get her help. By yesterday, I was actually praying that she was dead and had been the whole time. I just couldn't stand the thought of her needing us and us not being there for her. Thank God, she came home last night. A little thin and very thirsty, she was otherwise okay.

All of this has brought home how much our pets are a part of our lives and family. It was very strange to not see her around here. She wasn't there in the morning yelling at me to get her some food NOW!! We have built a routine around her and our dog, Joey, the same we have around our kids. If that routine is missing a part, I go through the day thinking I've forgotten to do something. Going to bed, knowing I've left something incomplete, made for a difficult night's sleep.

I always had a pet of some sort growing up. It was something that made our family complete. They drive you nuts, then and now, but also can make you laugh like nothing else. I had a cat, Muffin, the whole time I was growing up. She was originally my Aunt Debi's, but when she married an Englishman and moved to the UK, we inherited Muffin. She lived to be 19, although my uncle Steve(said Englishman) insisted that we kept just getting a new cat that looked like her. She used to catch hummingbirds, of all things, without any front claws. Pissed my mom like nothing. One time, she even managed to knock one into the house through the open sliding glass door. There were feathers everywhere. I took some to school for show and tell. By far the weirdest thing about her was her fascination with notebook paper. I can't remember how many times I would be doing homework and she would come lay in the middle of my paper that I was working on. We actually tested the theory that it was attention she was after or the feel of the paper. We laid a piece of paper in the middle of the floor and she promptly went and plopped herself down on it.

Every pet my family has had, has some kind of quirk. And is continues at my house now with my own family. Joey catches flies better than Holly (and eats them). He also will bury his head under a blanket and bark until you wrestle with him. Best of all, he makes Chewbacca noises. It's so cool! Holly will suck on a catnip toy like it's a pacifier and then run her high off through all three floors of the house. She also likes to drink out of the toilet. Usually, I would expect this from a dog not a cat.

Best of all, is the comfort they will provide when everything else has ceist (sp?) to work. My mom had to serve jury duty on a rape trial once. Every night she came home from court and took our dog, Brandy, into their bedroom and told her all about the day. Brandy was the only one Mom could talk to. For me, it's the days when I've just had it and Joey or Holly will come up and just sit with me and love me. They don't need anything, aren't whining or complaining. Just sitting there with me and chillin'. Or when I've been sick and they spend the day on the couch or in bed with me. That simple comfort I wouldn't trade for anything.

These are all the things I'll try to remember the next time Joey poops on the basement floor, or Holly pukes on the couch. :)

Really? Am I that old?

"What's Atari" This from Michaela, who then proceeded to tell me that she's 13, this is the 21st century and I should be glad that she knows what Nintendo was. I can't imagine that I'm really that old. I truly believe that age is a state of mind. I finally feel like I could be one of the "cool" people and now I'm past the point where it really matters. So, now what? How do I enjoy the confidence that I seem to have achieved? What purpose does it have? I wonder if that's why I feel called to work with the high school youth group at my church. Does this mean I'm one the again "cool" adults the kids can relate to? I'd certainly like to think so. I find this group of kids to wonderful, funny, smart, creative and just a joy to be around. I'm not sure what I'm hoping to show them through my life. I have a feeling that I will learn more from them than they will from me. And maybe that's God's plan. It's taken a year for me to get this worked into my schedule. I just pray that what I have to share is relatable to them. Even if I help just one of them. Who knows, maybe I should ask them if I'm really that old. Nah, I don't think I really want to know the answer.

And away we go!

So, I've been following my friend's blog for a little now, and I'm curious if I can find it as theraputic as she does. Of course, I don't think I want to write one of those blogs that bore everyone to death, or whine about all my problems. I guess I'll just have to see where inspiration takes me.

I could talk about how Shawn almost burned the house down last night, but he has requested that I stop talking about and telling everyone the story. Little does he know that I've already told everyone I'm going to tell. At what point is the line crossed between telling funny/scary/sad tales about your kids life lessons and dragging them down? I know for me, it's partly to get reassurance from other parents that all kids do things like this and survive. Sometimes I worry that Shawn is never going to make it to 18 after pulling one stunt too many. Is this just what parenting a boy is all about? He is our ER kid. The last time we were in there, the triage nurse asked if I had any reason to fear for his safety. I explained that "no, he's just a boy". He hasn't been to the ER in over 2 years and I'm getting a little nervous.

I rode my bike to and from work today. I thought I was going to die. I didn't realize how out of shape I am. I was aware that I had gain weight (obviously, as most my clothes don't fit), but it was a rude awakening this morning. I could lay the blame on my leg injury last year, but mostly, it's a result of laziness and lack of motivation. I haven't even been cooking much. If I don't cook, I don't eat right.

I LOVE to cook. The creativity that comes with cooking and baking is a blessing. I also find it comforting. I love going to bbqs and dinners, as it gives me an excuse to try new recipes. Although, I'm still struggling with St. Patrick's Day. I like to concentrate on the presentation just as much as the flavor. God Bless the Food Network.

Okay, I've just read back over this and it's a bit of a ramble. I hope to get better.