To Be a Kept Cat.
To be a kept cat is a wretched thing. A life so full of hard decisions and likely turmoil. Stress and danger lurk around every corner of their warm houses full of comfortable couches and beds. One never knows when their next meal is coming- could it be 6:00? 6:30? 7:00??
And with their superior minds, they must decide what to do all day! Should they sleep in the sunlight? Tear around the house like a demon out of hell at 2:00 am? Nimbly explore the kitchen countertops, looking for leftovers? Destroy valuable furniture, old and new? Puke up hairballs as a good-morning gift?
And these same superior minds must deal with.... the humans. The unspeakable slave race. They are good for nothing but serving and catering to the cats' every single need. That and butt scratches. And living scratching posts.
Though they cannot speak, cats can communicate with ease. When they want to! When their human asks, "Oooooh, where's my sweet kitty today?" the cat must decide whether or not to deign, to sink to the human's level. It can be disgusting. Sometimes the cat will decide to answer abruptly-- either a cordial meow and a purr, or a hellish growl like a lawn mower. But often, cats, after lengthy meditation, decide that nothing needs to be said at all, and just flick their tails at the human.
Kept cats must deal with the injustice of being petted when not in the mood, and this can be dangerous for the human. Cats, with their built in weapons (claws, teeth, bunnykick, occasional flatulence) can incur hefty and painful wounds! Imagine humans' ripped hands, bitemarks, tears down forearms! Gas!
But every cat has a softer side... often and strangely at feeding time, but it is there! Sometimes they will bump up against their human, or sleep in bed next to or on top of them. There is shared fun in cat lasers!
Believe me, I know. I'm servant to three! And I'm just playing, Iove my kitties!
Sarah
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Day Eighteen- Pretty
I'm not a pretty girl. I'm just not! It's the truth, and certainly no tragedy. My mom and my sister are absolutely beautiful and I... I dunno, it skipped me. I'm overweight, with crater-like scars all over my face. It's been years since the actual acne did all the scarring, but I'll carry them the rest of my life. My eyes are a dull brown. I'm short enough I can't reach tall shelves and despite years of orthodontia, my teeth are not ideal. My nose is long and big, and I've got what some people call a "butt chin" but I don't mind so much... I got my chin from my dad! Some of the un-prettiness is my choosing. I choose to dye my hair crazy colors and get tattoos. Ironically, these "ugly" things make me feel.. good.
Some of my appearance is my fault, and some of it's not. I could definitely eat better and exercise more! But years of high doses of Lithium did the face-scarring, and I'm on Zyprexa, which my psychiatrist nicknamed "The Fat Pill."
Over the years of battling schizoaffective disorder and OCD, I discovered something: when fighting the war of mental illness, your body is the battleground, where the wars are waged. The antispychotic Abilify made me throw up for months. I was fighting hellish mood swings so Lithium took a few chunks out of my face. I was fighting hallucinations and anxiety and the pills stored a lot of extra fat and made me eat more. But, as in any war, sacrifices are made. To this day, when I talk to my doctors about my meds they all agree it is better for me to be healthy, than be physically attractive. Which makes a lot of sense!
But I have found beauty in other, unexpected places. I think my writing can be beautiful, and I love taking photographs of everything. I DO feel pretty when Mose kisses my face and puts his head in my lap, and when Sheldon yells at me so I pick him up, which makes him purr. I feel good inside when I make my sister and my dad laugh, and when I talk to my mom on the phone. I think I'm beautiful on the inside, and I enjoy the beauty of others.
So I will never be most people's definition of "pretty." So what? I'm past it. I put on weird makeup and take selfies all the time. Because it's fun.
And I'm gonna keep dyeing my hair! I want more tattoos! I think my unique brand of beauty will get me somewhere someday. Maybe my writing will boost me up, so millions of people read my words... that's what I dream about, not a flawless face.
So let's embrace ourselves exactly as we are, okay? Believe me, you're beautiful.
Sarah
Some of my appearance is my fault, and some of it's not. I could definitely eat better and exercise more! But years of high doses of Lithium did the face-scarring, and I'm on Zyprexa, which my psychiatrist nicknamed "The Fat Pill."
Over the years of battling schizoaffective disorder and OCD, I discovered something: when fighting the war of mental illness, your body is the battleground, where the wars are waged. The antispychotic Abilify made me throw up for months. I was fighting hellish mood swings so Lithium took a few chunks out of my face. I was fighting hallucinations and anxiety and the pills stored a lot of extra fat and made me eat more. But, as in any war, sacrifices are made. To this day, when I talk to my doctors about my meds they all agree it is better for me to be healthy, than be physically attractive. Which makes a lot of sense!
But I have found beauty in other, unexpected places. I think my writing can be beautiful, and I love taking photographs of everything. I DO feel pretty when Mose kisses my face and puts his head in my lap, and when Sheldon yells at me so I pick him up, which makes him purr. I feel good inside when I make my sister and my dad laugh, and when I talk to my mom on the phone. I think I'm beautiful on the inside, and I enjoy the beauty of others.
So I will never be most people's definition of "pretty." So what? I'm past it. I put on weird makeup and take selfies all the time. Because it's fun.
And I'm gonna keep dyeing my hair! I want more tattoos! I think my unique brand of beauty will get me somewhere someday. Maybe my writing will boost me up, so millions of people read my words... that's what I dream about, not a flawless face.
So let's embrace ourselves exactly as we are, okay? Believe me, you're beautiful.
Sarah
Friday, December 28, 2018
Day Seventeen
I am cold today, so very very cold! And I think a cold is involved. I'm sitting on my couch, socks and slippers on my feet, my got my new sleep pants (Christmas present!) on, my hoodie over my t-shirt, and a blanket, drinking some hot chocolate and I'm just cold.
I'm watching Blow, which I had forgotten is such a good movie. That Johnny Depp, man!
In my last post, I talked about Mosey, and realized that on this blog, I have not yet spoken much about Otis. So, if you are a regular reader, or even know a thing or two about me, you know about Otis already. You probably know the story, the history that she and I shared.
I am going to talk about her anyway.
We celebrate, and I will ALWAYS celebrate, her birthday on April 20th. That's not her real birthday- she was born in May sometime. But April 20th, 2004 was the day of my suicide attempt. It just makes sense to take such an awful day and give it a positive twist! I gotta say, though, this next April 20th is gonna be hard.
'Cause she saved my life. I know that sounds horribly dramatic but it's horribly true. Some--- I can't think of a word bad and bitter enough-- EVIL person abandoned Otis and a couple of her siblings in the wee hours of a bitter cold morning and my Tissy was the only one to survive. I met her when she was a week old and I was twelve. She was young enough she needed to be fed from a bottle every few hours like any newborn, needed to be kept warm and safe and just... loved. I was up for the challenge!
When I set eyes on her, I thought she was the prettiest, most amazing thing I'd ever seen, and I had no way of knowing I was absolutely right. To this day I think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on. Just a fuzzy potato in a cardboard box lined with towels, but my heart could see more.
And so, giving me something to live for, a life to care for far more than I cared for my own, it did the trick. I got a life I valued way more than I valued my own. We gave each other life.
She had the softest ears I've ever touched, and my hands memorized the arch of her back, the curve of her tummy. For years she slept with me and both the last thing before bed and the first thing in the morning I did was run a hand down her side, and talked to her. I told her everything. My most trustful confidant.
She lived an incredible 14 years, but it wasn't enough. No length of time would have been enough. But she was sick and hurt and I had to put her down. Talking to her right before was the most important conversation I've ever had in my life. I HAD to let her know that she saved me. I had to tell her thank you. I told her she could play with Grandpa in heaven til I got there. And when her life peacefully ended, I curled up around her in the dirt and grass just like we were going to bed. I ran my hands down her sides like I'd done a million times. I kissed her nose one last time. And I loved her. Oh, I love her.
And I miss her! Every day. New Year's day will be five months.
I just had to get it out of my system- had to tell you about her, how amazing she was, what incredible things she did... since I hadn't covered it on this blog project yet. And how could I write for a year about myself and not mention her?
Anyway, headed to bed soon. My nice WARM bed!
Mose is sleeping on my feet, snoring softly. He's a good boy, and he got to know Otis too. I think he misses her.
Sarah
I'm watching Blow, which I had forgotten is such a good movie. That Johnny Depp, man!
In my last post, I talked about Mosey, and realized that on this blog, I have not yet spoken much about Otis. So, if you are a regular reader, or even know a thing or two about me, you know about Otis already. You probably know the story, the history that she and I shared.
I am going to talk about her anyway.
We celebrate, and I will ALWAYS celebrate, her birthday on April 20th. That's not her real birthday- she was born in May sometime. But April 20th, 2004 was the day of my suicide attempt. It just makes sense to take such an awful day and give it a positive twist! I gotta say, though, this next April 20th is gonna be hard.
'Cause she saved my life. I know that sounds horribly dramatic but it's horribly true. Some--- I can't think of a word bad and bitter enough-- EVIL person abandoned Otis and a couple of her siblings in the wee hours of a bitter cold morning and my Tissy was the only one to survive. I met her when she was a week old and I was twelve. She was young enough she needed to be fed from a bottle every few hours like any newborn, needed to be kept warm and safe and just... loved. I was up for the challenge!
When I set eyes on her, I thought she was the prettiest, most amazing thing I'd ever seen, and I had no way of knowing I was absolutely right. To this day I think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on. Just a fuzzy potato in a cardboard box lined with towels, but my heart could see more.
And so, giving me something to live for, a life to care for far more than I cared for my own, it did the trick. I got a life I valued way more than I valued my own. We gave each other life.
She had the softest ears I've ever touched, and my hands memorized the arch of her back, the curve of her tummy. For years she slept with me and both the last thing before bed and the first thing in the morning I did was run a hand down her side, and talked to her. I told her everything. My most trustful confidant.
She lived an incredible 14 years, but it wasn't enough. No length of time would have been enough. But she was sick and hurt and I had to put her down. Talking to her right before was the most important conversation I've ever had in my life. I HAD to let her know that she saved me. I had to tell her thank you. I told her she could play with Grandpa in heaven til I got there. And when her life peacefully ended, I curled up around her in the dirt and grass just like we were going to bed. I ran my hands down her sides like I'd done a million times. I kissed her nose one last time. And I loved her. Oh, I love her.
And I miss her! Every day. New Year's day will be five months.
I just had to get it out of my system- had to tell you about her, how amazing she was, what incredible things she did... since I hadn't covered it on this blog project yet. And how could I write for a year about myself and not mention her?
Anyway, headed to bed soon. My nice WARM bed!
Mose is sleeping on my feet, snoring softly. He's a good boy, and he got to know Otis too. I think he misses her.
Sarah
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Day Fifteen... and Sixteen. Whoops!
I started yesterday's blog last night and dozed off while writing it. I hope that that's not the case for other people reading my blog! I promised I'd write a blog everyday... and wow, I made it a whole two weeks! Anyway, with much ado, MY BLOGS, mushed into one!
I smell nice. Got a new perfume for Christmas and I smell nice! That's all.
I'd like to tell you about my dog, Mose. He proudly bears the name of The Office's Dwight Schrute's cousin. It's quite a burden to bear the same name as the (somewhat famous) beet farmer! But Mose does so with class and sophistication. Kinda. Like his namesake, Mose's intellect is somewhat questionable. Like I mentioned previously, the dog once ate a thumbtack and only knows one trick. But his heart is true!
A few years ago, the shop guys at ACE came across a big white puppy trapped in one of the back sheds. How he had ended up there, and for how long, nobody knew. When the guys approached him, he growled, but when he saw my sister, he melted a little, enough to tell he was a sweetie. Somehow I think we all knew he was meant for me. I still had Otis, but when I looked into his brown eye and his blue eye, I knew he was mine.
I lost Otis almost 5 months ago now, and god I miss her so much. Every single day. But I don't feel so alone with Mose. He'll never be what Otis was to me... nothing ever will. But he will be something different...he has found a way deep into my heart and he's gonna stay there.
He is simple in the way a lot of dogs are- it doesn't take much to make him happy! A car ride, a cheeseburger, an ear rub. He's good friends with our next door neighbor's dog, Nacho. In fact, there have been holes dug underneath the fence and they've both spent time on the other's side of the fence. Naughties!
He pretends to be brave, but little things spook him. The other night at my dad's, my sister was wielding a scary set of tongs, stirring up some pasta. When they clacked together, menacingly, he dove for cover. He slowly ventured back out from behind the couch, and my sister clacked them together again. Panic ensued. But can you blame him? They are pretty creepy.
I love him.
I could lie and say I'll never miss a blog day again but we all know that's destined to be a big, fat lie!
Sarah
P.S. It just occurred to me that I haven't said much about Miss Otis on this blog so she will probably be discussed tomorrow :)
I smell nice. Got a new perfume for Christmas and I smell nice! That's all.
I'd like to tell you about my dog, Mose. He proudly bears the name of The Office's Dwight Schrute's cousin. It's quite a burden to bear the same name as the (somewhat famous) beet farmer! But Mose does so with class and sophistication. Kinda. Like his namesake, Mose's intellect is somewhat questionable. Like I mentioned previously, the dog once ate a thumbtack and only knows one trick. But his heart is true!
A few years ago, the shop guys at ACE came across a big white puppy trapped in one of the back sheds. How he had ended up there, and for how long, nobody knew. When the guys approached him, he growled, but when he saw my sister, he melted a little, enough to tell he was a sweetie. Somehow I think we all knew he was meant for me. I still had Otis, but when I looked into his brown eye and his blue eye, I knew he was mine.
I lost Otis almost 5 months ago now, and god I miss her so much. Every single day. But I don't feel so alone with Mose. He'll never be what Otis was to me... nothing ever will. But he will be something different...he has found a way deep into my heart and he's gonna stay there.
He is simple in the way a lot of dogs are- it doesn't take much to make him happy! A car ride, a cheeseburger, an ear rub. He's good friends with our next door neighbor's dog, Nacho. In fact, there have been holes dug underneath the fence and they've both spent time on the other's side of the fence. Naughties!
He pretends to be brave, but little things spook him. The other night at my dad's, my sister was wielding a scary set of tongs, stirring up some pasta. When they clacked together, menacingly, he dove for cover. He slowly ventured back out from behind the couch, and my sister clacked them together again. Panic ensued. But can you blame him? They are pretty creepy.
I love him.
I could lie and say I'll never miss a blog day again but we all know that's destined to be a big, fat lie!
Sarah
P.S. It just occurred to me that I haven't said much about Miss Otis on this blog so she will probably be discussed tomorrow :)
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
Day Fourteen- Christmas!
Merry Christmas to everyone! I had a really good day. Gave some great gifts, received some great gifts! One of the absolute best parts was talking to my mom on the phone.
Last night I was going to leave out pizza and bourbon for Santa, but I finished them off instead... maybe that's why he only visited me dad and not me! Or maybe it was Mose, my ferocious pup, scaring off the big man! But then again, maybe not. Mose is not the brightest crayon in the box, that's for damn sure, and he gets scared of things like cooking tongs and the smell of whiskey. And I say he's dumb because, well, the dog ate a thumbtack once. He's just not very bright. I try to bolster his self esteem though. I tell him to "Sit! Shake!" and by god about 2 out of 3 times he does, and I tell him oh! how smart he is! How wonderful and brilliant! The third time he just looks at me with his big multi-colored eyes and blinks at me like a cartoon character.
I got a new DVD player for Christmas today, which was impeccable timing, being that my old one hit the dust hard. So, I got it all hooked up and needed to test it out- "Secondhand Lions" was my pick. If you have never seen that movie, I HIGHLY recommend it. I think it's incredible. So! STOP READING HERE if you've never seen in because spoilers are coming.
Watching it makes me think about my grandparents. The big idea the whole time is Walter, the boy, hearing his great-uncles tell amazing, unbelievable stories, about their crazy lives, and kind of wondering if "stories" is all they are, or if these incredible things really did happen. They did! Well, since losing my Grandma so recently, I've had a lot of well-wishers come up to me to give their condolences, and some tell me stories. And oh, the stories I've heard about my Grandpa! And my amazing Granny in Tulsa... they have all lived such amazing lives- it's inspiring. I hope to live a life like theirs.. just my own. They all have changed the world in ways big and small, and NEED to be remembered.
And just an aside, I think the actual lion in the movie, Jasmine, is so achingly familiar to every dog or cat owner, ever. The lazy, fuzzy butt panting in the shade of her crate, rolling around in the cornfield. Not to mention, the 5 or 6 dogs and pig that follow Walter everywhere.
It's just a darn good movie.
Oh, and if you're wondering, NO, I do not torture my dog with liquor. I was drinking some out of a mug the other day (shut up, it was clean! And now my sister gave me an actual Game of Thrones cup!) and he, Nosey Mosey, came up and took a big sniff. He yanked his head back, instinctively, looking troubled. he breathed in deeply, like he was about to sneeze, but then kind of hacked out loud. All this happened in a matter of seconds! I sat there, amused, and after he had coughed up some mucus I slowly extended the cup towards him. WHOOP!! His nose crinkled up and he hurriedly backed up over my empty shoes on the floor. After laughing, I just shrugged. More for me.
I finally got to reveal my Christmas craft for the year! Ahem:
An electrical outlet cover (from ACE!) painted like Edvard Munch's "The Scream"! The idea is that when placed over the outlet, the empty space will be filled with the outlet, HOPEFULLY looking like the scream.
I have nothing to prove it, as I only made them for other people and not myself.
I'm sorry Christmas is over, but it was amazing.
Merry Christmas!!
Sarah
Last night I was going to leave out pizza and bourbon for Santa, but I finished them off instead... maybe that's why he only visited me dad and not me! Or maybe it was Mose, my ferocious pup, scaring off the big man! But then again, maybe not. Mose is not the brightest crayon in the box, that's for damn sure, and he gets scared of things like cooking tongs and the smell of whiskey. And I say he's dumb because, well, the dog ate a thumbtack once. He's just not very bright. I try to bolster his self esteem though. I tell him to "Sit! Shake!" and by god about 2 out of 3 times he does, and I tell him oh! how smart he is! How wonderful and brilliant! The third time he just looks at me with his big multi-colored eyes and blinks at me like a cartoon character.
I got a new DVD player for Christmas today, which was impeccable timing, being that my old one hit the dust hard. So, I got it all hooked up and needed to test it out- "Secondhand Lions" was my pick. If you have never seen that movie, I HIGHLY recommend it. I think it's incredible. So! STOP READING HERE if you've never seen in because spoilers are coming.
Watching it makes me think about my grandparents. The big idea the whole time is Walter, the boy, hearing his great-uncles tell amazing, unbelievable stories, about their crazy lives, and kind of wondering if "stories" is all they are, or if these incredible things really did happen. They did! Well, since losing my Grandma so recently, I've had a lot of well-wishers come up to me to give their condolences, and some tell me stories. And oh, the stories I've heard about my Grandpa! And my amazing Granny in Tulsa... they have all lived such amazing lives- it's inspiring. I hope to live a life like theirs.. just my own. They all have changed the world in ways big and small, and NEED to be remembered.
And just an aside, I think the actual lion in the movie, Jasmine, is so achingly familiar to every dog or cat owner, ever. The lazy, fuzzy butt panting in the shade of her crate, rolling around in the cornfield. Not to mention, the 5 or 6 dogs and pig that follow Walter everywhere.
It's just a darn good movie.
Oh, and if you're wondering, NO, I do not torture my dog with liquor. I was drinking some out of a mug the other day (shut up, it was clean! And now my sister gave me an actual Game of Thrones cup!) and he, Nosey Mosey, came up and took a big sniff. He yanked his head back, instinctively, looking troubled. he breathed in deeply, like he was about to sneeze, but then kind of hacked out loud. All this happened in a matter of seconds! I sat there, amused, and after he had coughed up some mucus I slowly extended the cup towards him. WHOOP!! His nose crinkled up and he hurriedly backed up over my empty shoes on the floor. After laughing, I just shrugged. More for me.
I finally got to reveal my Christmas craft for the year! Ahem:
An electrical outlet cover (from ACE!) painted like Edvard Munch's "The Scream"! The idea is that when placed over the outlet, the empty space will be filled with the outlet, HOPEFULLY looking like the scream.
I have nothing to prove it, as I only made them for other people and not myself.
I'm sorry Christmas is over, but it was amazing.
Merry Christmas!!
Sarah
Monday, December 24, 2018
Day Thirteen
I've been watching Santa's progress on the NORAD tracker all night! At about 12:04 he passed right over us. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE CHRISTMAS! Tomorrow will be great. The only thing that could make it better is if I could hang out with my mom.
I broke down this evening and gave Mosey one of his new presents for Christmas- a chew toy! He's pretty excited.
I'll let you know tomorrow how my Christmas crafts went over!
I'll write longer blogs soon, I promise.
Sarah
I broke down this evening and gave Mosey one of his new presents for Christmas- a chew toy! He's pretty excited.
I'll let you know tomorrow how my Christmas crafts went over!
I'll write longer blogs soon, I promise.
Sarah
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Day Twelve
Christmas Eve Eve! I was just going to bed but realized I hadn't blogged tonight. So dammit, I'm writing a mini-blog, just for the principle of it.
I am ready for Christmas, but I'm not at the same time. I don't want it to be here yet, which is exactly the opposite of how I used to feel when I was little. When I was small I couldn't WAIT for Christmas. Santa was tangible proof that there is magic in this world. It sounds funny but the eaten cookies and empty milk glass was my favorite part of the whole thing. Presents are AWESOME but seeing that Santa had been there and accepted our offering.. somehow that was the most incredible part of all.
And I'm headed to bed! Tomorrow doing the bookwork I have to get my books done before noon to make it to the bank before it closes, so it wouldn't do to be late!
Sarah
I am ready for Christmas, but I'm not at the same time. I don't want it to be here yet, which is exactly the opposite of how I used to feel when I was little. When I was small I couldn't WAIT for Christmas. Santa was tangible proof that there is magic in this world. It sounds funny but the eaten cookies and empty milk glass was my favorite part of the whole thing. Presents are AWESOME but seeing that Santa had been there and accepted our offering.. somehow that was the most incredible part of all.
And I'm headed to bed! Tomorrow doing the bookwork I have to get my books done before noon to make it to the bank before it closes, so it wouldn't do to be late!
Sarah
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)