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My cat, Fuzzy

Owner’s blog, cat date 66292.29

I have a list of things to complain about. But I’m tired of all that. they’ll always be there. I read all kinds of things about how to deal with anger, frustration. I think of reams of rants, but when I look at my blank, white screen I fight to keep my nemeses at bay to limit their voices- their power- in MY journal. I never want to be an enabling sheep. I point things out. I already just deleted 3 paragraphs that derail me from what I want this chapter to be about. The shepherd has to prevail.

There are lots of isolated characters I’ve read and seen on film & tv, from the wise man, to the deserted man to mad scientist, to the guy in his evil lair. what a lot of them have in common is a pet they contemplate life plans with when there is no one else.

Let me start off with, yes I have owned dogs when I was young. Not much fun with the barking and the crap mine detail around the house. I was a dog person when I had them. Now I’m a cat person. Poop and pee in one convenient box! I know plenty of the dog and cat debates. I have owned pets in tanks, from fish to hermit crabs top lizards. I’ve owned caged pets, including a parakeet whose shrieks went right to my nervous system. I preferred the cooing of a finch I had. All of those pets have come and gone, but my cat remains. I’ve been pondering that “___ come and go, but ___ remains” quote a lot, trying to absorb and appreciate those second blanks.

I got fuzzy and his sister when I worked rides at a theme park, from a girlfriend’s parents house. They came from a littler of 4, the mother had over 5 different colors and patterns of fur, her name was Muffin. My g/f at the time named the small “runt” of the litter Bunny for some reason. We also got one of her brothers that I got to name, Fuzzy which made more sense to me and the name still went with Bunny’s. The other 2 were blonde boy kitties that remained at her parents court, outdoor cats. We took them as soon as they were weaned from their mother. I hope, looking back… Fuzz was black and grey stripes, Bunny was a mix of colors, greys, black, white and tan, just like her mother. I never saw the father.

We used to take them to the park in a basket, everything they did was precious. They scampered around the house when they were little, I used to enjoy hearing their little stampede around the condo, of course when I was quiet working on something else. You could hold one in your hand like a softball. We took them to the vets regularly for checkups and shots. The county offered a free voucher per pet and early on, we got them both spade and neutered. I remember that it took Bunn longer to recover, with her poor little radar dish.

I have blogged elsewhere about her brother and it’s in a file I can’t find, the blog entry lost in some server that GeoCities or MySpace was absorbed into something else.

It happened after I took a trip to Vegas, when I decided I needed to go look for work there. When I came back, I let the cats out in the front yard as I had done. The stupidest thing I did was let them out for progressively longer periods of time, trusting they would stay out of trouble and come back in on their own. Top 5 You Fucking Idiot time of my life award.

“SCREECH.” I went out front and a car was stopped. Bunn was inside. Her brother wasn’t. I ran out and thank the driver that he stopped to get out and consider what he had hit. He was even very apologetic. I told him to stay there, I was already running in the house for the kitty carrier.

I had a car at the time, so after carefully placing my wailing boy in the kitty carrier, I drove him to the vets. I remember guttural growling as I cried and drove with my right hand nuzzling his head in the passenger seat as I drove us, shaking and struggling to say comforting things towards the vets.

Our vet was in fact someone I worked with at the theme park, it was his “weekend” side job for fun. We worked on the park’s railroad together. He was there and the one I could count on to work on my cat as if it were his own. I cried and even called my mother, as I had before in an emergency.

A couple of hours into it, I had to accept some things, drowning in tears. No, I just wanted him to live. I’ve seen people take care of cats without all their legs. What was important to me was that I keep his spirit alive, let me love him longer.

The vet told me that he couldn’t realistically keep Fuzzy alive, his mind wouldn’t be fully there if he could. I really didn’t give a shit about what money I had to “borrow” to keep him alive. When I realized he most likely wouldn’t be in his state of mind again, I had to accept things and drive him home in his kitty carrier until he went to sleep for the last time.

I kept my hand on him as I lay, he smelled like blood. I told him how much we loved him over and over and happy memories we shared. I’m happy I took pics of them playing.

Bunn was confused, she would wander around. After he passed away, I just left him in the carrier until I figured out what to do the next day. I kept good thoughts and smiled thru tears. It wasn’t a time to debate God, it was a time to celebrate my boy fuzzy and if there was a spirit rising from him I had to let him see we loved him and how he enriched mine and Bunn’s lives. She approached him, smelled that he was… different and walked away. I cried for the 3 of us all night & the next morning, pretty useless for me to try to lie in bed.

I would up buying him in the front yard among some rose plants that line the front of the condo I’m staying in again, now a decade later. When we came back, I’d sit out front and let Bunn play for a while until she started eating the grass. I saw in a documentary about yard maintenance and all the chemicals they put into lawn care. It made her sicker than I thought all those years.

I meant to write about Bunn, but this needed to be shared again. I’ll write about happy times with her within a few weeks.

2012/04/16 Posted by | History 101 | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My trail on the interwebs

I feel kinda nervous starting another blog. Each site I devoted months and years on made the eventual big Change that pissed off all it’s users, drove them to other sites. In Myspace, it basically wiped out over 10 years of blogs (circa 1997-2008) and more important, comments that inspired me to write more and basically cheered me up a hell of a lot.

Facebook drew my interest for a couple of years (2008-2010-ish). When I joined people were complaining about a big change I missed. When I had to move away from Vegas and back to the bay area, I was honestly depressed and didn’t want to read about all the fun things I was missing and bragging that people do about how they’re in a better place in life. Facebook blogging paled in comparison to Myspace, they called it making a “note” and for some reason it only filled the middle third column of the screen that couldn’t be adjusted.

Google+ was something I didn’t even want to get involved in and it’s already tanking with issues from verification checks on your “real name.” They basically want your phone number, social, checking account numbers. My trust fell with all the big social network sites and even search engines. I wouldn’t have guessed that Big Brother came from social networking instead of government. But every word we type is accumulated market research to sell ads.

I have even started blogs on other sites, to have them not last more than a few entries. I want to feel the interaction w/ notes and comments I felt back on Myspace, less like I’m writing to a wall. It’s part of why I gave up on facebook, also. I had my friend list, but I ranted a lot with my unemployment. My support dwindled with my frustrations. My world was systematically collapsing and honestly I lashed out when my pleas for assistance were met with silence. I was always there for others.

I found yelp and that place was great for a couple of years, too. I helped me find new small businesses in Vegas. I tried keeping it up after I had to move back, but it became increasingly frustrating. My reviews of Vegas started getting out of touch. Things change fast over there, I felt like my reviews were obsolete. There was even a point where I was reviewing places as they closed down. That was a bummer, too. I may link that sometime. It’s should be easy to find if you want to search on your own for it, if not note me. I did a lot of first reviews.

It’s December, so everyone does a resolution thing. I told myself I wouldn’t, but I do have a goal here. I have written so much about Vegas that it leads my mind to other things. For some reason, I brainstorm an essay in my head, even if I’m waiting in line. I get the need to post it somewhere, to get it out of my head. Sometimes it’s tips, a lot of times it was ranting.

A page long essay every week is what I want to do, about things that wouldn’t go into the Vegas book I dream about writing. I have assembled a couple of binders of research and I have tons of printouts from when I was a concierge. I have 3 years of pamphlets and years of weeklies I basically hoarded. Those can get me thru these times so far away. I have to put them away sometimes when I get depressed and feel that I’m looking back more than forward about it. I eventually realize it’s both. I can’t go forward without remembering what I am capable of.

I want this to be a place of hope. I rant semi anonymously on twitter. I have noticed I’ve been un-followed by people I actually know. I don’t know where I can vent. In person, I’m actually friendly, pleasant and mostly listening to other people’s problems. When I go online and rant, people could think that that’s all I am and I understand that. Maybe I could take racquetball so I can slam a ball around.

Maybe next time I’ll write about what I’ve accomplished this year so you can get an idea of where my head has been the past couple of years.

2011/12/20 Posted by | History 101 | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment