Meeting Molly

Last week I wrote about the loss of my cat Max. I still miss him. This week I want to write about someone else.molly 3

This is Molly.

She is two and a half years old German Sheperd/Husky mix and, until recently, belonged to an 85-year-old woman in Georgia. Molly spent her days loved but on a chain in the backyard. Then her owner got sick and couldn’t take care of her anymore. Her owner’s son tried for a bit but he had health problems too. Soon Miss Molly was at the animal shelter and slated to be put to sleep.

Both her owner and her son were heartbroken. Molly was such a sweet girl and deserved better. So they reached out to friends and family on facebook, begging someone to adopt her before it was too late. Time was running out.

Then a distant cousin reposted their desperate plea. (Try to follow me on this connection, I know I should have created a flow chart but I didn’t think about it until now.) This distant cousin was my cousin’s best friend growing up. My cousin passed away at least 18 years ago. (We were very close but she had CF and was limited in what she could do. I grew up with asthma and so we bonded over our closeness in age and inability to breath.)

So here it is, a very long time since I have set eyes on this person, and I see a facebook post about this adorable dog about to be put to sleep just because she doesn’t have anyone to take care of her. I would have happily continued to care for my Max, but there was only pain waiting for him and eventually death. His was a hopeless situation. Molly’s was not.

I have never really been a dog person. We have Duke but he hardly qualifies because he

Duke
Duke

is so small. (But don’t tell him I said that.) However, my heartstrings were plucked as I looked at the post. I wasn’t ready for another cat, but maybe I could take in this dog who needed someone. We could sort of help each other.

I messaged my cousin’s friend, who messaged her cousin, and the race was on. We had to get her before the execution could be carried out. Sabrina’s (my cousin’s friend) cousin got her from the pound that night. Sabrina and her son drove down the next day. (My kid had a doctor’s appointment so we couldn’t go pick her up directly.) Then they brought her straight to my house.

At first, Molly was nervous and shy, though she quickly adapted. We’ve learned a lot about each other in the week or so that she has been here. She has learned that if I am writing at my computer and she lays directly behind the chair, I have to give her tummy rubs before I can get up. I have learned she has a mischievous personality and knows exactly how cute she is, and uses it to her advantage when she gets in trouble or doesn’t want to go outside.  Molly is very sweet and loves attention. I am still not sure that I am a dog person, but I do know that I am this dog’s person.

molly 4

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Mourning Max

3This May I lost my cat Max to cancer. It was sudden and I wasn’t prepared. I took him to the vet because he wouldn’t eat; I thought I was being overprotective and they would tell me he had a cold or something. I thought “better safe than sorry”.  Turns out sorrow can creep up on you even if you are trying to be safe.

The doctor came back after doing some x-rays to let me know Max wasn’t going to get better. She had felt a mass in his abdominal region and wanted to get a better look. The mass showed up as several tumors that were pushing down on his digestive system. He couldn’t eat or drink because he couldn’t go to the bathroom. There was nowhere for the waste to go and it would only get worse until he eventually died in great pain.

During this explanation, Max kept trying to crawl back into his carrier. He wanted to go home. He didn’t feel well and he wanted me to hold him or take him home. I shattered.

I had Max from the time he was a tiny kitten. I probably have other posts about him on this blog. He showed up on my porch three years ago with a bad eye infection. He 4eventually lost both his eyes, yet being blind never slowed him down.

He knew when it was time for me to come home from work and would wait near the door for my arrival. Then he would stand up on his hind paws and reach up, like a toddler, wanting to be picked up for cuddles. He very rarely meowed, we joked that it interfered with his sonar, but his purr was strong and deep.

So there I stood in the vet’s office facing the worst possible scenario. They advised that we put him to sleep. The cancer was too widespread for them to operate. They asked that I stay with him while they got him prepared, in order to keep him calm. I didn’t want my baby to suffer any more than he already was so I agreed. I stroked his soft black fur as the injected him with a tranquilizer. I eased him down to his side as it took effect.

7 Tears blinded me through the whole processes. Yet when the vet came in with the final shot I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t watch the life leave him, so I gathered my things and fled. I couldn’t tell you what the vet bill was. I just shoved my credit card at them, signed where the told me, and then left.

I could have taken the body home but I wasn’t strong enough at that point to deal with it. So the vet’s office took care of that as well. (They are a very well respected office in my city. A bit more pricey than some others but the way they treat the animal is worth it. They didn’t just dump him in the trash can out back.)

2So here I am. It’s two months later and my heart is still broken. I miss my Max terribly. We have two other cats and I love them, but I was Max’s person. The other cats have claimed my kids. Our chihuahua is without a doubt my son’s dog. All the animals have been giving me extra attention since Max passed away but there is still a hole…

 

 

This story has been more difficult to write than I thought it would be so I am going to have to cut it in half. This is the sad half. Like most serious events in life, this experience clings to me. However, there is a light of hope and happiness. Her name is Molly. I will tell that story in the next post.

 

LibertyCon 31, 2018

Day 1 of LibertyCon 31:

We arrived at the convention a little later than originally planned but our timing worked to our advantage. My sister-in-law and I got our badges and checked into the hotel without issue. We’ve been to a few awesome panels and bought probably our weight in books. I’ve met some new people and was able to reconnect with old friends. So far we have had a good time.

The only problems that have shown their warty heads were the internet connection and the fact that we went left when we should have gone right (or the reverse) after getting off the elevator a few minutes ago. This meant we spent ten minutes trying to open a door that was to the wrong room. It took a handy passerby to point this out to us. In our defense, we were tired and just about ready for bed.  I am looking forward to tomorrow.

libertycon 31 no shit there I was

Unplanned

black and white house under thick clouds
Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com

Sometimes life doesn’t go as planned. Take this weekend for example. I had planned to get a ton of writing done. I was going to work on this short story I want to finish and send out before the end of June. I was going also work on this other thing that looks like it might be part two of something I’ve already completed. I was also hoping to plot some of a series I’ve been planning, then write a blog post.

None of that happened. Well, this is the blog post but not the one I originally planned on. Yesterday the sky was overcast and the wind was shouting nature’s fury through the trees. Then the storm began and the power went out. No power, no internet.

It was fine at first. All the people in my neighborhood opened their curtains and doors. People stood on their porches and watched the storm rage. When it the weather cleared the power was still out, so my son and I went to visit family, run a few errands, and grab some lunch. We passed downed trees and broken limbs everywhere; evidence that the storm had been worse than I thought. Traffic lights were down and a lot of places were without power.

It took us longer than expected but we returned home by seven in the evening to a dark house. The power rarely goes off where I live so I had expected it to be repaired by the time we made it home. It wasn’t a big deal to me. We have candles and lanterns if we need to see and I have a camp stove if we needed something warm to eat. I also have a reading list that never seems to get any smaller.

My son, however, thought the apocalypse had come. The battery in his game console was almost dead and so was his phone. He couldn’t turn on the tv or his computer and we had to use a tap light to see in the bathroom. I told him to read a book. He pouted for a bit but finally started a series he received for Christmas.

The power was back on by 10PM but it was kind of nice to unplug from technology for a bit. I managed to read three books and my son focused on something that wasn’t Minecraft for a few hours. So, even though things didn’t go as planned and I didn’t get the writing done that I wanted, it was still a pretty good day. (The power went off for a while today too but only for a few hours.)

Morning Magic

dandelion
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

This morning I let the dog out into our fenced in backyard and turned my attention to feeding my demanding felines when I heard him bark. It was different from the bark he uses when the neighbors are out and about. It was just a single bark with a couple of seconds pause before he did it again. Curious, I stepped out on to the back porch to see what he was barking at.

By this time he was back to sniffing clover and his normal routine. However, as I stepped out onto the back porch a big gust of wind ripped through the yard, disturbing the fluff from some dandelions. The fluff took flight into the air as a big cloud that slowly dissipated into individual seeds dancing on the wind. It was amazing. It was like dozens of tiny white fairies swirling around the sky.

So while I still don’t know exactly what caught the dog’s attention, I am glad he barked so that nature could attract mine. The cats, on the other hand, were unimpressed about the delay in serving breakfast.

I’M Back

For two years this blog has been sitting here waiting for me with little more than a couple of updates a year. For the most part, it is because I went back to school and that took a lot of focus. However, the rest of my life went through significant upheaval as well. I changed jobs, my youngest child was diagnosed on the Autism spectrum and my eldest is a giant can of worms I will not open here. (For my privacy and for their’s.)

So basically I lot has happened. A lot is still going on, but I am finished with school. I graduated with my Bachelors in May. This means I am now back to writing…well, in between everything else. I have greatly missed it. I am also a little worried about how rusty I may be. I have written for school of course. I have written on everything from hearing implants to the intelligence of corvids and even papers on mob bosses as well as papers on the possibility of extraterrestrial life in our universe.

I should be good, right? I mean I have still had to exercise those writing muscles. I haven’t let them atrophy. It is just that now my goals aren’t so well defined. It is something I have to work on. I want to write. I would love to do that and not have to have a day job or at least be able to go part-time somewhere. That’s the dream. It’s just a bit scary and I am not all that confident at the moment that I have the ability to accomplish it. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it a shot though.

There Are No Words

Mad Genius Club

I would have loved to be able to rant about the stupidity of certain ideological literary types, the kind who think that disinviting someone from a guest of honor position because someone might get offended is perfectly acceptable, but sadly, my ability to produce a decent rant is horribly impaired by one simple problem.

These folks have plumbed depths of stupid so deep that to call them morons risks offending perfectly decent morons. If I called them flaming turds of stupid, that would be an insult to all the flaming turds out there – and let’s face it, flaming turds are capable of being useful.

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