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From the category archives:
Personal
A few days ago I happened to be outside walking around our yard, enjoying the gorgeous weather. It won’t be long before the trees are leafless and covered with frost and the grass will suddenly crunch beneath my feet. That’s fine, of course, I absolutely love winter – there’s something positively cozy about it.
I walked toward our pear tree and noticed, from a distance, all the fallen pears on the ground. They weren’t exactly attractive lying there, half exposed, and rotting. But as I got closer I realized that there was, indeed, a great deal of beauty. There were, literally, hundreds of the most beautiful butterflies imaginable feasting on the fallen fruit. There were yellow, white, orange, red, purple, and pinkish butterflies. I plopped down on the ground just to watch their colorful show.
I kicked myself for not having my camera on me.
As I was watching the butterflies enjoying their find, I couldn’t help but think about the poetic scene. Here was a pile of nastiness on the ground – not one of the fallen pears looked even decent, let alone attractive. Yet, some of the most beautiful creatures on earth – delicate little butterflies – came to the scene and enjoyed the spoils.
That’s how it happens so often in life. Just when we think we’re hovering over a situation that couldn’t get much uglier, something beautiful springs forth.
To a certain degree, that’s what happened when I lost Bo and Svenn. I sat outside so many mornings, afternoons, and evenings – missing my boys. The yard (and my life) were missing something and I felt it in every inch of my body. Anyone who has lost a beloved pet knows the profound sadness that I’m talking about.
God certainly did. And God is generous!
Flash forward to today. When I go outside, there is absolutely no emptiness or sadness – whether it’s in the morning, afternoon, evening, or middle of the night! (People who have visited this blog before know that my beautiful, spoiled little Alexa lives inside – which is why all of the other babies must live outdoors, on the carport and in the garage loft)
When any of us go outside now, we’re once again greeted by precious cats:
- Ming Li – A feral cat who has become extremely friendly – she allows me to pet her now and rubs against me. I’ll add pictures of her soon, I don’t think the camera will frighten her now. She is very tiny and, of course, perfectly adorable!
- Hannah – Beautiful Hannah is a sweetheart. She’s the girl in charge out there. All of the other cats defer to her and she relishes the arrangement.
- Cynthia aka”Cindy Clawford” - She’s a beauty. She came along about a week or two ago. She reminds me a great deal of Prissy, in her younger days. Very pretty, very friendly, and never met a bite of food she didn’t want desperately. When they’re eating, Cynthia will hiss at the other cats if they come near food that she’s interested in. Ming Li and the boy cats will back off, but Hannah ignores her. Hannah slapped toward Cynthia once and she hasn’t hissed in her direction since.
- Jelly Bean - Jelly Bean is solid, solid, solid black, precious, and very playful. I can only touch him if he’s in the middle of eating or distracted. His shiny black fur feels just like silk. He is one of Ming Li’s kittens, so he has pure feral cat blood in him. Hopefully, with patience, I can win him over like I did Ming Li.
- Peanut Butter – PB is Jelly Bean’s brother and is even more standoffish than him. Even Ming Li was never as overly cautious as PB is. He’s adorable but seems as interested in being touched as I would be in drowning. I’m not giving up, though! I’ll win him over.
Cats are so precious and so much fun. I’ve always had cats in my world and I’ve always cherished them. However, lately I think I may cherish them even more so. I have three human daughters. I was always a stay-at-home mom and even homeschooled our girls all the way through school – Kindergarten through 12th grade. They’re in college now, have boyfriends, work, and so on. For any parent, it’s a huge adjustment – but for one who, for over 20 years had little ones near her, depending on her every single day – it’s an adjustment that I can’t even begin to describe.
Put simply, my cats keep me sane!
One of Ming Li’s kittens, Jelly Bean, has become a member of the family. Since his mom (Ming Li) and dad (Jet Li) were both feral, he’s very, very cautious of humans – including this cat-obsessed human even. However, unlike his two siblings (nameless until I determine their sexes), he comes close enough to touch.
He lives in the garage with Hannah and she has sort of assumed a motherly role with him. Ming Li came through about a week ago and was majorly pregnant. I haven’t seen her for a few days, but I have a feeling that when she shows up again, she’ll be her slender self again. Jelly Bean went running up to her, glad to see his cat mommy – but she hissed at him and stopped him in his tracks. He ran back to Hannah’s side.
Can’t say I blame him!
A few nights ago, I took out a couple of Alexa’s toys to entertain Hannah and Jelly Bean. Hannah is hilarious when she plays. She’ll sit really still, acting like she’s only half-interested in the ball, feather cat toy, catnip mouse (whatever). As I rub her head, she seems only interested in that – nothing else in the world seems to matter. Then, all of a sudden, she’ll prance on the toy and give it heck.
Then…. back to the head rubs.
The first time Jelly Bean saw a toy ball, he looked so adorable sweet it brought tears to my eyes. He hunkered down, sort of unsure of what he’d do next, then he threw caution out the window and joyously pounced on the ball. Then he swatted it in my direction. When I rolled it back to him, he swatted it back again.
Even wild, feral babies enjoy a good game of pitch and catch.
His siblings – who are both beautiful with dark gray fur and black stripes – always watch the playing but never approach a toy until I’ve gone back inside. When it comes to cats, patience is my middle name, so I’ll win them over. Funny thing is, these two are going to be really hard to tell apart. One was a lot smaller, but it has caught up with the other one. Jelly Bean is totally and completley black – even the bottoms of his paws are black. He doesn’t have any white or gray on him whatsoever.
When I lost Bo and Svenn, the outdoors (which I’d always loved with a passion) just seemed sad and empty to me. I can’t tell you what a blessing it is to have Hannah, Jelly Bean, Ming Li (when she shows), and ???? and ??????. It’s as though God knew how empty my yard felt to me and filled it with something that means the world to me – precious, beautiful, wonderful cats!
**** I’ll add pictures of the kittens as soon as possible – I also have new pics of Alexa and Hannah to add.
I have a new little girl to tell you about. She’s a tiny little thing, with huge, suspicious eyes. She’s dark gray with black stripes. I’ve named her Ming Li (because, well, we’ve never had an Asian cat before <3). She can’t be much over 1, if that old – but she already has kittens. I haven’t seen her kittens yet, but I see the signs on… rather under… Ming Li.
The thing is, I can’t touch her! She’s the first cat, among thousands it seems, that is too timid to actually allow contact. Every other cat that has ever sauntered into my life has come right up to me and soaked up the petting, hugging, cooing, and all of the things we extreme animal lovers put them through. Ming Li is extremely timid and scared, however. I don’t push it, of course, because I think a scared or startled animal is one of the saddest things on earth. This is why I don’t have a picture of her to post along with this article. I’m certain that having her picture taken would send her straight up a tree. For weeks.
She comes into our yard 4 or 5 times a day to eat and drink. I try to catch her arrival and meet her with turkey, chicken, fish – sometimes even cat food. See, I can be normal when I put my mind to it. She’s coming closer and closer to me and it’s my huge, huge, huge hope that she’ll let me pet her in a day or two. Do you have any idea how much I’d love to hold her?!?!
For now, we’ll do what she needs and wants for us to do. I put the food down (with baby talk that years of daughters, cats, and dogs has allowed me to perfect) – then I sit quietly as she eats. Yesterday, I sat on the patio watching birds while she ate – then I glanced over and saw that she was lying on the ground, not far from her empty plate. She was watching the birds, too, but I knew she was keeping an eye on me at the same time. It was like she was thinking, “No funny stuff lady with the food.” So the lady with the food simply sat perfectly still.
I heard something and looked around, thinking that Bo or Svenn were sneaking up on the scene – which would have been disasterous. Then I realized what it was I was hearing: Tiny little Ming Li was purring. This was, I’m certain, the closest she’d ever been to a human or, for that matter, to any semblance of love. Something that my other cats practically drown in daily was completely new to Ming Li.
It was, at once, very precious and rewarding – yet also sort of sad. When the tears showed up in my eyes, I honestly wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy or sadness. I didn’t ask them. I just sat still, enjoying the type of moment that seems to make the world stand still.
Ming Li decided that it was time to go, after all, her baby or babies needed her. So she took off across the yard and under the fence to the empty property next door. She lives in the barn, apparently.
I know there would be tricks to employ that would allow me to touch her sooner – such as holding the food in my hand and making her come to me to get it. But that would be selfish. All I want is for her to be comfortable and to feel safe.
She did something else that nearly choked me up. She’s obviously accustomed to finding her meals in trash. I set a bag of trash out by my van to haul off a few days ago. When I went out to haul it away, I noticed Ming Li beside the bag. She had torn a little hole in the side and was enjoying spaghetti for lunch. I pointed out the dish of dry cat food, as a reminder that she didn’t have to do that anymore.
She is such a little doll, I can’t wait until I can get pictures of her. Mostly, of course, I just want to get my hands on her!
Well, of course we cat lovers give gifts to our feline babies. If you think about it, we see them more during the year than we do most people in our own family. Theyr’e always there for us, they never criticize what we wear, they think we’re the best cooks on earth, and they make our world light up with just one purr. We love to buy things for them all year, but at Christmas time, it seems even sweeter.
Consider the following great tips and ideas from Cat Age:
Toys and treats: Stuff a stocking with catnip-filled toys and a few healthful treats. Your pet will love digging them out. Choose indestructible toys with no bells, baubles, or strings he can bite off and choke on. If in doubt about a toy’s safety, supervise during playtime.
Warm and snuggly: Wrap a padded plush bed in crinkly paper that kitty can tear into. The paper will entertain him for hours, and the bed will keep him cozy all winter.
Playground accessories: Keep his life interesting with cat climbers, scratchers, tunnels, and laser pointers.
At Prissy’s age, Christmas is just like any other day. As long as she has her food, her extra large pillow bed, plenty of chin scratching, and fresh water – she’s a tiny, purring, ridiculously happy 20 year old cat. Svenn and Bo love when Christmas season first arrives because they love sorting through the garage with me as we find all the santas, snowmen, trees, lights, etc. Truth be told, they aren’t a lot of help, but the company couldn’t be sweeter. Or cuter.
Alexa gets the most excited about Christmas though. Her splint is off her leg now and she’s getting around perfectly well. Every now and then, she’ll favor the leg – but I’m just so thankful my little girl’s back to her normal, enjoyable routines. She has assumed her rightful place in front of me on my computer desk and, somehow, all feels right with the world again.
One of the first things she wanted to do first (after being set free from her doggie kennel cage and splint) was explore the Christmas tree and presents. Last night, my husband and I were watching a few dvds. During the first one, she kept walking around on top of the presents and gift bags – swatting, chewing, and examining. Apparently, the second movie was more to her liking (She’s a Vin Diesel fan.) because she got on the couch beside my husband and watched with us.
In Prissy’s younger days, she would actually climb the Christmas tree, knocking ornaments and bows down along the way. I had to watch that girl 24/7 to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. Fortunately, Alexa (who’s weight would make things especially disasterous) seems content with staying on the ground.
I hope you, your furry babies and the rest of your family are enjoying every single magical second of Christmas! There’s really nothing quite like it.
I’m writing these words on paper as I lie on our remarkably cold and unforgiving marble kitchen floor next to Alexa’s extra large training kennel. No, she hasn’t been a “bad girl,” she’s a hurt girl.
She’s in this cage to heal and protect herself from hurting herself any further and I’ll go to the computer to type this in as soon as my baby goes back to sleep.
Our little girl broke one of her back legs in two places Sunday when she tried to jump up on an ironing board. It gave way, toppled over on top of her and fell on one of her little legs.
Thankfully I found a veterinarian who said she’d meet us at the animal clinic. Why DO these things always happen on Sunday’s?
Alexa had to stay overnight at the animal hospital which, of course, meant that between the time I left her and 4:00 the next day when we were able to pick her up, I cried several rivers of tears. Geez, mothers. Everything was so different without her in the house. She’s always my constant companion and I found myself missing her terribly. When I made coffee, she wasn’t under my feet wanting to play, when I took my bath, she wasn’t on her nearby rug, when my husband checked his e-mail, she wasn’t on the table beside his computer demanding his attention (which she always gets!), when I checked mine, she wasn’t on the desk in front of me.. Basically, she wasn’t anywhere she was supposed to be.
And it was so quiet – I missed (and miss) her little meow. She’s a talker, which is why I love the picture of her above so much. It captures the true Alexa… talking!
She has a splint on her little hurt leg and it’s wrapped in special bright blue medical bandages all the way up her hip – creating a blue peg leg for a cat who isn’t a very happy little girl right now.
One of the workers at this animal clinic told Alexa she was “a gorgeous kitty.” I thought, “Yeah…that’s not going to help. She already knows that.” She’s very vain about her looks. Very.
It’s killing me, overtime, to see her so uncomfortable and miserable. I want to cry every time she meows in pain or frustration. Fortunately, she’s on pain medication so these meows have almost gone away – except when the little hard headed diva tries to move around in her cage in awkward directions.
I want to cry every time I see her so uncomfortable, but like most moms, I do a good job of staying brave when my baby’s watching. It’s when I’m away from her that the tears come.
I slept most of the night on the floor by her cage. I woke up several times and she was looking at me – making sure I was still there. I fell asleep with one of my hands inside her cage and woke up with her little face lying on it.
Comfortable? No Way. 35 minutes of No Way comfortable! – But I wasn’t about to disturb my baby.
Almost 20 minutes ago (around 8:00 am), Prissy and I were trying to do some laundry (my little 20 year old girl has always loved laundry time – even now that she’s lost her sight, she knows what the sounds of the dryer and washer mean and she comes running fast walking slowly). When Alexa woke up and saw that I wasn’t beside her cage, she “called” me to see if I wouldn’t mind dropping everything to lie beside her while she went back to sleep.
Like I said at the first of this post, I’m writing this as I’m lying next to Alexa’s cage…
She’s sleeping now – and hopefully healing godspeed.
If your pet is, at this moment, healthy and unbroken – say a prayer of thanks. And while you have God on the line, I’d really appreciate a prayer for our Alexa’s healing. The fastest, most pain free healing God can send. Filled with plenty of sleep. So far, it’s the only time she’s comfortable.
Thanks and, oh yeah, hug your pets!
Our elderly baby, Prissy, gave us a horrible scare Friday night. She had a housefull of people in tears. My husband, our middle daughter, and I had gone to the movies (We had a date with The Mummy.)
After the movie, when we came in the back door, our oldest daughter (Emily) and her boyfriend (Dill) were eating cookies and watching Prissy. Stephany and her boyfriend (Rusty the snake catcher) were nearby as well.
Apparently, Prissy had had some sort of a seizure. Emily said that she started going around in circles, disoriented and even fell over. She picked her up and held her for a while – telling her everything was all right, etc. When she put her back in her bed (on the kitchen floor, near her food), she was restless and kept getting up – but couldn’t walk, she kept going extremely to one side and falling down.
The kids rubbed her and got her to lay down and go to sleep.
When we came in, Prissy heard the door and was getting up as Emily told me about what had happened. Sure enough, she kept falling – breaking everyone’s heart in the process.
Given the fact that our girl is almost 20 (her birthday’s next month), has lost her sight entirely, and weighs less than 10 pounds, we thought this was pretty much the heartbreaking end. I got out of my clothes and into my gown and took up my rightful place by my baby.
Alexa stayed nearby, keeping a concerned watch over everything. She kept looking from me to Prissy, then back to Prissy… I held Prissy and offered her water and food – she seemed grateful for all of it, especially the holding. She didn’t seem to mind that I was crying all over her. I just kept thinking how I wouldn’t allow her to suffer or to die slowly. I made up my mind that I’d take her to a vet and have him help her along. Oddly enough, even through all of the drama, Prissy (the sweetest cat in the world – I swear) managed to purr.
Stephany knew me well enough to bring me a pillow and cover – she knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I spent the night sleeping on and off on the floor beside Prissy’s bed. We had frequent visitors through the night, everyone checking in from time to time – on both of us. I’d always loved our white marble kitchen floor before, but it’s miserable to sleep on! Around 3:00 am I was certain that it was the coldest, hardest floor ever made.
Saturday morning, Prissy seemed much better. With my arms steadying her, she even managed to walk to her food and water rather than them coming to her. The improvement felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of my chest. By Sunday, her movement was even better – she ventured pretty far a couple of times… Purring the whole time, of course. She was pretty proud of herself.
The emotional rollercoaster has left all of us drained. I know full-well that the time will come when she doesn’t rebound. I know that, at 20, she’s really pushing the envelope. But she’s still happy, able to eat, drink, and do her business. She loves to be talked to, rubbed, and brushed. She enjoys life and I can see that. She gets excited over food, fresh cool water, and (oddly enough) when I give her fresh blankets, pillows, or stuffed animals to cozy up with. If they’re fresh from the dryer, she really gets excited! She loves attention and was born to be the star of the show. I know that our days with her are coming to an end. I know we dodged the lightening this time and probably won’t be so lucky the next time.
But I also know that my baby is right in the next room, still with me after nearly 20 years. It means so much to me that she AT LEAST makes it to her 20th birthday, but if she begins to show signs of suffering even in the slightest or (as my husband put it), losing her dignity and pride, every other concern will go flying out of the window. She’s always been a very proud, “prissy” little diva – which is how she got her name in the first place. We owe it to her to make sure she’s able to leave this world with as much pride as she entered it.
God willing, it will be peacefully in her sleep after a day spent in the center of the stage – receiving the love and attention of her audience. That’s how she’d want it and it’d be a fitting end to our little star.
But, for now, the show goes on and I thank God for the extended performances!
Alexa and I got the scare of our lives Friday. It involved the thing I’m most scared of in this world (hissssssss).
I noticed her at the sliding doors in our home office. She’s a totally fearless cat, so her odd, sort of frightened demeanor freaked me out immediately. It was also weird that she was looking upward – as in about 4 feet off the ground. Oddly enough, I never even suspected a human. We live sort of out in the country, so I knew it was an animal (or bird) of some sort. Problem was, Alexa has never shown any fear toward birds or any of our other frequent visitors (rabbits, raccoons, possums, skunks, cats…) She even saw a coyote (through a window) once and just bugged out a little.
But this time, she was sort of transfixed, almost frozen – yet she was trying to back away. I oh so carefully walked over, bent down to her level (while baby talking her, of course – she loves that stuff), and followed her gaze.
AAAUUUUGHHHH!!!! You’ve heard of a rebel yell? I gave a “Kill me now” yell. This thing was quite big – and had slithered up the bricks, cut over sideways and presently was jutting it’s ugly face toward the glass, all the while sticking out its God-forsaken tongue.
My daughter (Stephany) and her boyfriend (Rusty) were in the driveway, getting ready to go somewhere. Being the brave person that I am, I went for their help. I knew they’d get a thrill or two out of it - they love the Animal Planet channel and watch it religiously. In fact, they’d just left the living room where they’d been “visiting” with bears.
My brave little Stephany stayed on the safe side of the glass doors with me and Alexa, while Rusty got a huge stick and got the snake down. She got her camera to “capture” the drama as it unfolded!
Even though I’m scared to death of the vile things (snakes, not Rusty and Steph), I was honestly very impressed with the way Rusty handled the situation. He never (not once) was agressive toward the snake or even gave it cause to think it was in danger. Granted, my brain was thinking, “Club it! Kill it! Destroy it! Make it wish it’d never been hatched!” – but the snake was very lucky that Rusty has a respect for all living things, even snakes. If it had been poisonous, it would have met a different fate.
He “led” the snake away from the wall and the windows – for which all of us females were grateful. He even let it all seem like it was the demon’s idea. He sort of coaxed it with the stick – it kept “feeling” for the stick with its black tongue. Gross! Sorry, that just slipped out. When he got it to an open area, he gently touched it’s back (?) with the stick a few times. It kind of got into a little coiled heap (ugly) and Rusty put the stick down. I love the kid, but I thought he’d lost his mind entirely when he made his next move. He reached down, grabbed the thing close to the head (so he wouldn’t get bitten), while holding it’s tail end with the other hand.
The whole time, Steph and I were afraid that Rusty was about to face a certain death, but Rusty seemed to like the fool thing. He kept talking to it. I’m pretty sure that IF I ever did speak to one, it’d be through screams and possibly even profanity. Rusty spoke to it calmly, though. Then he took it to a field and let it go.
In all honesty, watching the whole thing actually made me a little less afraid of snakes. I have no intention of ever befriending one, mind you, but I think it and Rusty both handled themselves remarkably well. And I’m struck by the fact that Rusty wasn’t the least bit scared the whole time. He treated it the same way I’ve always treated stray animals when they make their way onto our property. I, of course, go way out of my way not to scare them and I always do what I know is best for the animal. He did the exact same for the snake.
This experience showed me that snakes are simply wildlife, too. Like the raccoons and possums I leave food out for and joyfully watch, rabbits I toss carrots to, and birds I feed every day – they’re pretty helpless in a lot of ways.
I even thought one was kind of cute one time. My husband, knowing my intense phobia, has often tried to expose me to them – in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, I’d become a little more reasonable. The first time he ever took me near them, it was in a Snake House in a zoo in Kansas. The minute I saw one, I ran (not walked) out of there, screaming the whole time.
Calm. Cool. And oh so collected.
Fast forward about 10 years and we were in a pet store. Behind the glass were some of these things. One was curled up in what appeared to be a dog’s food dish. I said, “That’s cute.” Of course, I immediately turned and walked away, but at least I didn’t find it totally vile.
I’m still mystified by Alexa’s reaction. I just don’t think she knew what to make of it. She was actually born outside (her mother was the very essence of a wild cat… and I still miss her), and until I brought my baby girl inside, she lived outdoors. So, I’m pretty sure she’d seen snakes before. But she seemed completely out of her element and was very unAlexa-like.
Hopefully another one of those unwelcome visitors will never come calling again. She and I still go to the glass doors and peek out, like, a couple of billion times a day – sighing with relief when the only thing on the patio are cardinals, furniture and a grill. The things that belong there!
Obviously, someone who’s familiar with Alexa, Prissy, Svenn, and Bo used them as inspirations to create a bumper sticker. You’d think they’d at least send me one free, right?
The Cats running wild! Bumper Sticker lets the world know you love cats and gives them something to smile about at the same time.
You gotta love that!
Prissy
My little girl is going down pretty fast. It seems like she’s aged 10 years since November.
I moved a large, shallow box that Prissy’s fallen in love with right beside her food and water dish. I’ve lined it with a soft baby blanket. She, literally, hasn’t left the area for over a week. No more scratching on the wall in our bedroom each morning to let us know it’s time for breakfast, no more wandering into the office to see what we’re up to, no more curling up beside Stephany in the evening for tv and snacks. Frankly, our work, breakfast, and even Steph on the couch just don’t matter to her anymore.
Needless to say, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through in my life. I’ve had (and loved) Prissy longer than any animal I’ve ever had – last September it was 19 years. I can’t remember NOT having this beautiful, pampered, graceful, and incredibly sweet-tempered cat.
I’ve been trying to look at the entire situation from a perspective that doesn’t make me want to lie down and cry for 3 hours straight. Yes, she’s actually dying more than she’s living right now – but what a life she’s led! She’s lived in Kentucky, Indiana, Iowa, Florida, and then back home to Kentucky. Kentucky’s her favorite – she loves the climate and she says that Kentucky boy cats appeal to her more. She’s always been a flirt.
She has helped to raise three beautiful girls. She has played barbies, been a “baby” in a stroller many times, celebrated many rowdy Christmases – right under the tree! She’s swatted countless ribbons and helped shred more paper than any secretary. She has supervised Scrabble games (from the opened box), helped work puzzles (often from sitting right ON the puzzle), and helped with many, many, many school assignments.
She has watched my husband fix and repair everything from kitchen faucets to bathroom light fixtures. Her reward for her assistance was the periodical rub on the head, the scratch under the chin, and the reminder of what a “good girl” she is. According to her, he gives the best chin scratches around.
And, the number of meal preperations she’s over seen! She’s been a constant kitchen companion for me since she was so tiny I had to watch out for her. One of her favorite pastimes used to be when I’d sort through my recipes. She’d lie across half of them while we decided what exactly would be made that week and what we’d need from the store.
She has seen every episode of Little House on the Prairie, I Love Lucy, Andy Griffith – as well as every cartoon ever made. She has been there for every major sporting event over the past 19 years as well. She’s seen her St. Louis Cardinals win the World Series and her UK Wildcats win more than one championship. She was stoked for weeks.
I’m thankful that she isn’t in pain and doesn’t appear to be uncomfortable. In fact, she purrs as much as ever and loves baby talk more than she ever did. Her breathing isn’t laboured and she still eats and drinks. She just sleeps in her box – getting out only twice a day to have a little bit to eat and a drink.
Needless to say, if it weren’t for the purrs and if we detected any pain or difficulty breathing -we’d take her to the vet and end her suffering immediately. That’s why I’m so thankful that, while her fading away is extremely hard on me, she just seems to be enjoying the extra rest.
For all the extra fun, love, and enjoyment she’s given us – she’s earned it.
***The picture at the top of the post is one that one that my daughters took back in January. Prissy was actually playing a little bit and they wanted to capture the moment. She had more people around her giggling and awwww-ing than most pre-school kids do!
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