Unemploymentosphere

an Amazing WordPress.com site

I lost my poor, poor baby girl

Mourner’s blog, kitty date 120724.09

Sunday morning, my cat who let me share my life with her passed away. She shared her life with me. A lot of this blog is going to be things I cried out to the close people I talked on the phone with the past day or so.

You may think she’s just a cat, but to me she was my companion that accompanied me thru the struggle of moving 8 times, having 6-8 jobs, 4-5 vehicles, a few girlfriends and a couple of states.

It’s safe to say a lot of people have put up with my shit for 17 years, but she always got the better of me. No matter how mad I got for the mess she made, she would respond with rubbing her head on my arm or leg or meow at me saying “pick me up and hug me, please? Pet my back. Scratch the back of my head.” She disarmed me faster than any human could. And that’s a big lesson for me to learn about dealing with others for the rest of my life.

I sensed her time coming, but there were some things. I couldn’t afford the vets and even if I did, did I really want the vets to cut her up and drug her to something that wouldn’t recognize me anymore? I learned a lot from watching my mother and uncle dealing with trying to drag my Grandfather to convalescent homes, where they wouldn’t allow him his cigars and white port. His temper went up and health down. Eventually, they relented and decided to let him sit in his living room, watch tv and drink his “medicine” and smoke his cigars. Go out HIS way.

When I had to move from Vegas to protect my girlfriend from living with the unemployed I eventually lost her to her ongoing life while mine was frozen. No matter how many times I applied, no matter how many books I read on psychology, happiness, motivation, coaching, business, marketing, Zen Buddhism, and war stratagems, I could not get a job to save my life. That first month back to my mother’s condo snapped me into a reality where I didn’t have to remind my girlfriend what needed to be done anymore. I was relieved, but soon saddened by this. I had to learn how to shop at the grocery store by myself, without considering what we’d get.

I still had my baby girl. Whatever odds were against me that was compounded by being “out of state” even though I returned was made worse by month after month of unemployment. When my job search faded from getting Back to Vegas, it continued as I have to get work, to pay off a credit card, to get a vehicle to get me and my cat out of here, if not Vegas.

2 years later, my cat’s health was deteriorating. I knew how long I had her, but I had also heard cats could live to 20-21 and I was going to drive her somewhere with trees and grass she could play in.

In Vegas we developed a tradition of taking her to the drive in movies! We decided to go there for nostalgia and hell 2 movies for $4 each? It was a BONUS when I realized we could put baby kitty in her carrier and smuggle her in. Really, no pets? She could see the family of cats that lived on the roof of concessions that wandered around. We always worried they’d get run over. We always brought string cheese and Cane’s chicken for all the cats to snack on.

One time we even drove her thru x-mas in the park! Vegas is a great place for annual holiday events, but for kitty and my girlfriend, they let me forget about my problems with the holidays and the religions behind them and enjoy the pretty lights. “Look baby!” (There go writer’s tears.)

I have so many memories of my cat, I’ve been scribbling them down the past couple of days and will do so until I’m all wrote out. I always want to remember her how I remember her. 10 years goes by and you forget things and I can’t let that happen. I have to mind dump my memory on a media, a “hard copy” I can have.

I talked with someone recently about digital cameras/ pictures/ computer storage. It’s more convenient than film, but look how less permanent it is. One zap could crash your drive. You could lose your cell with all your pics. In fact it happened to me and the only thing I used my first cell cam for was kitty pics. There were a few I e-mailed to myself that I pulled later. You could post your pics online but I did that for 10 years, who the hell goes to myspace anymore? Who will go to face book 10 years from now? I gamble that word press was around for a long time and could be here until I can at least afford my own domain someday to transfer all this to. Even then, domain companies get bought out. Who knows. It’s why I want to write a book, so copies have a chance of being out there in the world after I’m gone. But the internet is even turning books into vcrs or Kodak film.

I want a physical photo album, physical pictures to post up at work or whatever locker I’ll have some day or god forbid my own office. Instant replaces longevity, another lesson the remote culture needs to learn.

I have more to say and I’m at the end of my page. I’ll write another blog and post it tomorrow, okay? Thank you all for reading this. Losing my baby makes me want to apologize to everyone, appreciate the people I love and thank everyone for the rest of my life.

2012/07/24 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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