A Sad Day - Goodbye Annie

For the past few days, Annie, our old cat (see December blog about her) has been having difficulty getting into and out of her litter box, has developed diarrhea, and was requiring more food preparation.  Everything had to be watered down and stirred into thin gruel before she could eat it.   Her robust howling was getting weaker and weaker and she stood on her bed sometimes for a half hour trying to figure out what she was doing.

Yesterday, after she left a trail of diarrhea across the bedroom rug getting to her litter box, we decided it was probably time and beyond time for this old cat to go.   What kind of life could she possibly have in so much pain and confusion, so little ability to even go outside and enjoy the sunshine (I left the door to our balcony open all day Sunday to encourage her to go out into the warm day to no avail).   We kept hoping that we would wake up one day and find that she had died in her sleep.   But no such luck for her or for us.

But just because you know it is the right thing to do doesn't make it any easier.  I called the vet, Rod got her burying place ready, and I put her favorite bedding in a laundry basket along with a fleece baby blanket.   When we got to the vet, we got to talk to her and pet her for awhile.  But we didn't hear the purring that usually occurs when we talk to her or brush her.   When Dr. Lung came in, we took her out of th basket and laid her on her side.  Dr. Lung shaved a spot on her back leg. But when the needle went in, she cried and struggled, obviously scared.  That really did it for me.  I so much wanted her to have a peaceful death.  Rod and I both sobbed to see her in distress, if only for a moment before it was over.

I am crying right now as I write this because not only is it hard to lose her, but it brings up all of the old feelings about every loss that has ever been -- every pet, every friend, every loved one.   Some people would say -- "That's it! No more attachments for me!  It hurts too much!"  but all it does for me is to make me so grateful for the wonderful relationships I had, and the wonderful memories I will keep.

Rest in peace, Annie and I hope that over the rainbow bridge you are a youngster again, frolicking in the warm sunshine chasing butterflies, pain free and happy.

And if there is a heaven, I'd better be able to see and hug all my cats there, or I'm not going.

February in California and Gratitude

I just had to post the remarkable weather we had over this past weekend.  All kinds of records were broken, and it was 81 degrees in Napa on Sunday.  A staggering, hypnotically beautiful day indeed. Normally February is the wettest and grayest month but not this year.   Everywhere I look there is something getting green or colorful -- the hillsides, the fields of mustard, the forsythia, the flowering quince, and narcissus popping up everywhere.   So on Sunday, I headed out with the camera determined to record a little slice of this heaven I am so grateful to call home.  

Especially with friends who are toughing out the cold of Wisconsin (hi Edna and Gary), I am doubly thankful for the fate that brought me here, first to San Jose, then to Guerneville, on to Santa Rosa, Rohnert Park, and finally Napa.   Growing up, I dreamed about a life like this, and I still can't believe my luck in ending up here.

On my Sunday drive (everyone else on earth was watching the Super Bowl), I headed up Coombsville Road until it turned into Wild Horse Valley Road  and snapped the views on the flatter side, and then across the valley as I climbed higher.

As I turned onto Shady Oak Lane,  I encountered a flock of wild turkeys -- maybe 15 or so -- casually ambling across the road .  They took me by surprise and I tried hard to get a picture, but they were so illusive, and my picture came out kinda fuzzy.   But this is just one example of the amazing kinds of things that happen around here pretty much all the time.

So this was a day filled with smiles, peace, gratitude, warmth, joy and turkeys.  How could I ever want more?