mystery of the friendly Rose

The other day I was looking back through old pictures and I ran across a few that really puzzled me. Pictures of Rose being friendly - what?!

April 26, 2013

April 26, 2013

April 26, 2013

I have no memory of Rose being so friendly. The only thing I can think of is she must of drugged me and then enlisted the help of the other cats to take pictures of her being all friendly just to mess with me.

July 11, 2012

July 11, 2012

July 11, 2012

July 11, 2012

She must have known that one day I would look back on these pictures and wonder what the heck was the deal. Well, that day has come! Well played Rose, well played!

a narrow escape

Oliver has gotten to spend some time inside over this past weekend - practicing his inside kitty skills!

 

I think he's got his inside kitty technique down pretty good.

 

On Sunday afternoon we had a scary event. I was out repairing the camera in Oliver's house and he came over to assist. He had climbed up between the insulation top enclosure and the large hinged heavy wooden roof. Then disaster struck, the support holding up the heavy wooden roof somehow gave way. The roof came crashing down - the next thing I saw was a black blur, as Oliver darted across the yard, limping heavily - his back leg not moving like the others. He made his way into the crawl space under the house - he was terrified. I crawled under with him and in time he crawled in my lap, purring. He was so scared.

Oliver let me touch him all over without visible signs of pain. I've been monitoring him closely since and he seems fine. I've been feeling sick thinking he might have been seriously hurt, but he's not limping anymore and is acting like nothing happened. I'm guessing he might have jumped out of the way in time to not have gotten squished, maybe he landed funny, thus the limp. It's a miracle he's okay as the roof of his house is insanely heavy. It could have easily been a serious injury. I felt awful but am SO grateful he's ok.

Limping is not new to Oliver, in fact it was seeing him limping on his back leg many years ago, that made me realize I needed to TNR him and get him medical help. By the time I had trapped him and got him to the vet the limping had stopped, so they never found out what was going on with his leg. I've noticed over time he sometimes takes stairs carefully and sometimes favors a back leg. Even though he's appearing normal, I might still take him to the vet to get checked out just for my own peace of mind and to get some x-rays of that leg to get a better idea what might be causing the longstanding, sporadic limp.

Monday night, I brought him inside for more monitoring and some healing inside kitty time.

I'm holding my kitties close tonight in love and gratitude - each moment I have is a gift and I'm aware that crazy, unexpected things can happen at any time. Be safe out there my friends and hug your furry ones!

Fall into kittyworld

Hi all! Where did October go?!

We're all well here, still working on settling into new routines. Here's the latest from Fourwhitepaws kittyworld!

Rose is getting braver every day! Go Rose!

Theo is as wiggly and cuddly as ever!

 

 

 Willow! Oh my Willow. She's quite the cuddly flirt.

Pierre, handsome as ever.

The midday laptime cuddle line is ridiculous!

Never enough Willow!

 Fuzzy Nahum is getting more lovey by the day.

 

 Oliver, my Oliver. Quite the Oliver

 

 Marvin being Marvin

I hope the fall season is kind to you all! Soon winter will be here with all it brings. Blessings to you all!

feline asceticism

Marvin refuses to indulge in mixing softness with his heat. He likes just heat, no soft cushy bed, no soft towel. Just plain heat.

I keep moving his bed over to be on top of the heating pad and he continues to move it back to the floor. I've purchased at least three different kinds of soft, comfy beds for him, all of which he refuses to take part in.

Ok, Marvin, you win, enjoy your heat sans soft. 

throne makeover

Willow's always loved the view from atop the wicker hamper in the bathroom.  It was a frequent perch for just hanging out or a handy way to reach Buddy's food stash.

Theo however found joy in shredding the wicker lid that covered the hamper, which left it unusable for Willow. Of course, I couldn't just standby while Willow suffered without her spot, so I recently rebuilt it for her, this time with a soft, fabric top, that's fit for a queen.

Introducing the new and improved wicker laundry basket with soft throne-top!

And now the Willow test...

I approve!

 I think the boys approve too!

the gift of grief

It's been almost three weeks now since Buddy crossed over the bridge. Among the many seasons of life I'm in, grieving is one of them. I want to share a little about my grieving process this time around.

Coming home without Buddy was really hard. The energy in the house felt off, it's crazy how much quieter it was. The absence of his presence was deafening. As the days went on, the grief-pain began to increase. All the little things I've come to expect are no more. Buddy was the most vocal of our cats, he talked all the time. First thing in the morning, he greeted me with a loud MEOW! Every time I came home, MEOW! Whenever I sat down, he would immediately sprawl out on me. He wrestled me for every bite of mac n' cheese. Everything is different without him.

Eating the same mac and cheese without Buddy stirs pain of his absence. That pain feels like a gift, like a testament to the joy of his being. I am learning to welcome the grief-pain, to lean into it with gratitude.

The grief-pain is real and at times pretty intense. But this time my experience of the grief is so much different than any of my previous experiences. For the first time in my life, the grief-pain is not completely overwhelming me. In the past, reading about cat-blogosphere friends crossing the bridge would overwhelm me. When Max died in 2009, it was incredibly traumatic and I couldn't work for weeks. Suicidal thoughts even came in, it was really scary. Since then I lived in constant fear of having to go through that all again.

The day after Buddy crossed the bridge, I stopped by the house for lunch, and
Nahum hopped on my lap for some fluffy purr therapy - just what my ouchy heart needed!

Over this past year, I've done a ton of intense therapy work. (A little history: I experienced pretty significant pet-loss trauma as a child, which basically kept me in a perpetual state of hypervigilance as I anticipated the next death - my fear was rampant and overwhelming, can you say PTSD?!) A bunch of my therapy work involved working through that trauma.

I'm now getting to enjoy the fruit of having done all this trauma work, for the first time in my life, I can actually experience the sadness and grief pain without crazy anxiety and fear overwhelming me. Which means, I can stay in the moment and feel just the grief of Buddy's death without the past and future rushing in. This season of grief feels clean and for that I'm super grateful. This doesn't mean the grieving is easy or pleasant by any means, I still feel the hole in my heart and the sobbing still overtakes me at times.

When I picked up Buddy's ashes at the vet last week, I felt like the reality of him being gone really sank in. As I carried his ashes back, tears streamed down my face. When I got home, I sat with his box of ashes in my arms and I sobbed. The beautiful cat I knew as Buddy would not be coming home again.

  In this season of grief there is much I'm grateful for.

• Your kind messages, comments and cards are beautiful and have been like soothing balm for my ouchy heart. It really helps to know I'm not alone. The weight of grief is heavy and intense, sharing it in community makes it more bearable. I'm deeply grateful for all of you and your outpouring of love.
• My amazing, kind veterinarians and their staff that somehow are always available. I love that they bring their humanity as well as their medical skills and knowledge to their work. What a gift.
• Onsite and all the amazing healing that I've experienced through their intensive therapy programs.
• Buddy - his love was the real deal, just as mine is. The grief wouldn't be here if there wasn't such delightful love. The delight of our relationship was so worth the grief-pain I feel now.
• The love and joy of Willow, Nahum, Theo, Rose, Marvin, Oliver, and Pierre!
• God's love never seems to stop, even in the deep pain. Crazy.

 
The other cats are stepping up to fill in the now vacant roles Buddy filled.

Theo and Nahum have volunteered to have a go on the mac and cheese bowl. 

 

Nahum's started a rigorous cuddle-training program.

 

He's also taken to sharing my meals with me.

 

Every morning, Theo has been my new morning cuddle and prayer-buddy.

 

Willow's offering extra cuddles.

 

And Oliver is even stepping up and generously offering extra tummy rubs.

My grief is held in a beautiful container made of gratitude and love. My heart is grateful.

Willow Wednesday

Woke from a nap to find Willow napping on my chest.

Purrfection!