wishlist and mailing address

Friday, April 18, 2003

It's been such a long road.

Thirteen years ago, my mother used to work for the county. She read water meters, which meant walking for miles a day stopping at residential homes, and imputing the readings into her bulky, hand-held electronic processor. (Thirteen years ago, it wasn't a pda, it was a 20lb monster of electronics). While walking along Fox Hollow Drive, she heard a small little "meow" and looked to see it's source. A tiny, six-week old all grey kitten was laying on the tire of a car and came over to see her. She picked the little thing up and wondered where this too young kitten came from. Walking up and down the street, knocking on doors and asking everyone if they knew who it belonged to, or had any idea where it came from, she was met with unbroken ignorance as to it's origins. My mother is an animal lover to the extreme, stopping her car to move turtles out of the road and becoming vegetarian to protest the treatment of food animals. So, she packed up the little kitten and drove home.

Thirteen years ago, I was home sick from school. I was sitting around in my pj's watching tv and generally doing what thirteen year olds do when they're home sick. It was a surprise then, whey my mother came home with a little grey kitten in tow. She asked me to bath the poor thing who was riddled with fleas, put him in the pool area - "Don't let him in the house" she told me - and that when her day was done, she'd pick him up to take him to the animal shelter. With this she had to leave and go back to work.

So I ran water and bathed the kitten, washing him probably with shampoo and trying to kill the mass of fleas which covered him. I dried him off and saw there were still more and I washed him a second time. I put him in the pool area as told, and sat by the door, watching him, thinking how cute he was. I started playing with him and eventually - you saw this coming - brought him inside anyway. My mother came home that day to find him curled up, sleeping on my chest as I sat in the oversized Lazy-Boy chair.

Oh mom, I said. I want to keep him.

I had, in the past (back when I lived in PA), a cat who was all white named Sammy. We found him one night during a blizzard, white-on-white in our backyard amidst deep snow drifts. He was such a sweet cat and was taken from us by a horribly cruel neighbor who ran him over to spite my family. From that point on - I was a very young child; probably six or so when he was killed - I never had a kitty, but always loved playing with the cats at my Great Uncle's farm (yes, a real farm - I was in rural, country mountains back in PA) and always said I wanted an orange tabby to name "Marmalade" or a pretty calico cat. (Growing up, I was a big fan of Garfield and always loved orange tabbies because of it).

My mom reminded me of this, saying But he's all grey! She tried to tell me that he was neither orange nor calico; that he was a plain grey kitty and that's not what I had wanted and that she should just take the little kitten with her to the shelter.

Oh no, I did not care that the kitten was grey, for I had fallen in love with the little ball of purring grey fur, so happy to be held; so eager to snuggle up with me. In the end, somehow, I won out. The hard part was convincing my abusive father who was still at that time, married to my mother to allow us to keep him and despite the odds, we some how managed.

I wanted a unique name for my new kitty. I wanted something different. My friend, who lived up the street from me had a mother who was born in Russia. I asked her how to say "cat" in Russian and what I remembered it as was (phonetically speaking) "kushka." I went home and told my mother that I had decided on his name. Kush-ka. Of course, we took him to the vet, got him all his shots, had him fixed, the works and was surprised to learn from the vet that the cat was of a breed. That breed was Russian Blue. I had managed to name a Russian Blue cat the word for cat in Russian. His ironic and very originally unique name has suited him every day of his life and has brought a smile to those who hear of this odd turn of events.

Kush-ka and I grew up together. My mom eventually rescued two other cats - Panda, a black-and-white ball of scaredy-cat fluff; and Socrates, a massive 18lb silver tabby with the smallest little meow you ever heard - and these two entered our house, though Kush was always solely my cat and the others my mom's. Kush never liked the additions to the house, but he stayed by my side and made the best of it. He slept on my bed and in my bedroom with me pretty much all his life and always sought me out to sit on my lap. Kush learned early on how to do all sorts of things from fetch (though he stopped doing it once he was about two or three - I think he realized it was demeaning to a cat *lol*), to open doors, pantries, and such. Kush loved people food and from the start, I had to limit his intake since he'd munch down Cheez-It's, popcorn, ice cream, yogurt, bread products, tuna, chicken, pretzels, etc. Just about anything that I ate, he wanted.

Kush-ka, like Russian Blues in general, was a quite cat, almost never meowing, but instead, fixing you with his weighty gaze and big, open eyes, getting your attention all the same. We used to joke that when he was young, people thought he was mute because you could almost never get him to actually speak. In fact, we had to try to train him to meow by holding a treat from him and saying his name, asking if he wanted it until he'd meow. Can you imagine, actually trying to get a cat to meow? But, he was so quite, it was fun to hear his little voice.

Kush was always so smart and loving. He never hissed or scratched or bit. He would just sit and deal with things he didn't like - such as baths - and make small gestures of his unhappiness, but he was never an angry of aggressive cat. He followed me from room-to-room all my life, earning his nickname as my Little Grey Shadow. Other nicks stemmed from his immense personality and curious nature. My mom referred to him as "Mr. Investigator" since he always had to have his nose in what you were doing and check out everything without fail from paper bags (which he loved as a young cat to lay in), to food, to a book you were reading - anything which was around him, he wanted to see and be part of it. I always said he was more a little person in a grey cat suit then a kitty, and his nick of "Little Grey Man" has ever stuck.

Kush has ever been a companion and friend to me. He's always known when I was upset and come to find me, wherever I was in the house without me doing a thing. He'd come to me and look at me, and give me a little "mwrrr?" and jump up on my lap, purring and happy, making me instantly feel better. He smothered me with his love and never for a moment made me think he was anything other then a little, precious gift, sent to help me through my hard days - the beatings I took when my parents divorced and my biological father took his rage out on me; the stresses of moving in with another man and his delinquent daughter far too soon after the divorce; the stresses of school and life and relationships; problems with health and pain and suffering - and give me something solid and real and good to counter those hurts.

Kush moved out with me when I did, following me around in various apartments over the years, always just settling in with minimal fuss to wherever we went next. For awhile, he had to live back with my mother, but I visited him every few days and he was ever happy to see me and when I took him back home where he belonged, he was right there at my side as if I had never had to be away from him.

In June 2001 I had to take him to the vet because we found a lump. Turns out the lump was cancerous. He had surgery to remove it and the vet proclaimed it a success. A little less then a year later, another lump was found. He underwent a second surgery, which again, was dubbed successful. But in September 2002, it came back a mere four months later, it came back a third time. At this point, the vet called it terminal and didn't advise a third surgery. He gave Kush-ka a few weeks to a couple months.

And now here we are. April 18th, 2003. Seven months after his last vet appointment and today is the day I call the vet to make the final appointment. I'm putting it off and stalling because I don't want to do it and make it real. If I just don't do it, will it go away and can I pretend it doesn't need to be done...? How can I express the depth of love I have for what some people would see as nothing more then just a cat? How can I ever explain the years we've seen and the tragedies we've overcome? How can I ever tell the ways he improved my life and the things he did that kept me going with his unwavering, unconditional love? He is family to me in the deepest and most meaningful way I could ever describe.

As I sit here and think about this which I must do, I cry and cry, and I wonder how there can ever be enough hugs to give him, or times with him on my lap, or listening to him purr, or hearing his sweet little meow to fill the long, cold years that I'll never have any of it again. How can it ever be enough? How can I hold on to the next four days (having arbitrarily decided I will schedule the appointment for Tuesday - no day being any better or any worse then any other for doing such a thing) enough to make them last my lifetime? I don't ever want to forget those little things; those small animating characteristics that you take for granted until they're gone. The feel of his fur; the way he paws at my leg and chair; the texture of his little charcoal grey nose...all these things will be gone and I can't fathom this. It's just not enough time. He beat the odds for so long, and lived months longer then we ever thought possible, and now I sit and face the day I didn't want to think of and still don't want to deal with. It's now up to me to end things and it's just so....hard... Looking at him and knowing I'll be without all those little things...

Stalling and passing time...hoping to make it not real and to keep hold of these moments just a little while longer. But the clock keeps ticking and I need to call the vet and make the appointment. I can't back down because all I want to do in the world is back down.

Think of him in the coming days for me. Wish him well, send your thoughts, give your prayers that he passes softly and painlessly. That I can get through this loss and that he comes to peace. Above all else, love each other; your pets; your family; your friends and capture those little moments in your heart. These days will never come again.

Got up. Mom came over. Sobbed most of the afternoon.

Went to Rand's and dyed eggs with him and his family. Had a pretty good time though the fancy dyes and painting/sponge application stuff kicked all our butts.

Came home, sobbed a few more hours, heard something up in the roof, freaked out and cuddled up to my Love, watched Hardball on Showtime and am now typing this. Don't want to get into all the sad bits so I don't sob again now, but my time's almost up with Kush.

I think I'm finally getting sleepy, so I'm out.

Thursday, April 17, 2003

*yawns*

I am so sleepy and I meant to be in bed about an hour ago now, but I just had to show off something pretty before I did since tomorrow (today techincally) will be a darned busy day and I probably won't have a chance to update.



My Love brought home a dozen beautiful roses for me just because. Man I love him. *smiles*

Off to bed with me now.

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

I got a message from a man interested in Russian Blue cats and curious about them as a breed. He had seen Kush's site and wanted to know more about the breed. Of course, from everything I've read, Russian Blues are wonderful cats and a very smart and loving breed overall.

He was also curious about how to get a cat not to scratch furniture and this made me think of this post about how declawing has been banned in part of California. I did a quick search on the web and found a great resource on how to teach your cat appropriate scratcing behavoir and I wanted to share it with everyone who has a cat or is thinking of getting one. CatScratching.com has a great, in-depth article on why cats scratch and how to encourage them to use the items you provide for them instead of your couch. It's a good read for anyone interested in cats, cat owners, and those who enjoy insights into cat actions. Above all else, it reaffirms the fact you should NOT declaw your cat.

Some good resources here for everyone and I wanted to share. Heading out to the mall now with my friend Jef, so I'm out.

Monday, April 14, 2003

Inspired by TLC's What Not To Wear I wanted to give everyone a very quick good and bad reference on what to wear at your local Ren Faire. The bad anything like a garbage bag; the good is something more along the lines of a simple top, skirt and wings. See the difference h.e.r.e

My weekend in quick recap...

Friday
Got to see La Nouba (another good site here) by Cirque du Soleil out in Downtown Disney. It was even more amazing then I had thought possible. I had seen shows of theirs on tv in the past and I always thought it looked cool, but to see it in person was literally magickal and breathtaking. I was floored, I really was. There's one part called Aerial Ballet in Silk which was the single most amazing thing I had ever seen. At one point, the man gathers the silk up in his arms and runs the back length of the stage and then goes airborne over the audience and flies across the front of the stage. It was so beautiful I actually wanted to cry. So graceful and so beautiful, it was an amazing show. We had the most amazing seats as well - second row, dead center. It was fantastic. Though, there's really not a bad seat in the house. I suggest that people do whatever they can to get a chance to see one of their shows in person - I look forward to going again - they're just that good.

Wrapped up with dinner at the House of Blues (the chicken tenders are really good there) and got some yummy fudge (chocolate/peanut butter and snickers - mmm...) to go. All-in-all, it was the best night I had in a very long time.

Saturday
Back down to earth a bit, my Love and I went about with Rand to the stores to do the normal "hit-the-shops" kinda day. Picked up a new book at Barnes & Noble, then hit Target for the normal run-of-the-mill escentials, and then drooled a bit a Best Buy (though not that long for once as we bought some milk while at Target. (oops). Topped the night off by picking up some beef and my Love made us a nice steak. (A side note, I have to very strongly recommend the steak marinade we use called Dale's. It's soooo good and makes the steak taste just right). It was a nice day overall.

Sunday
Went with my Love, Rand and Jef to the last ever Renn Faire at that location. (I was wrong by the way, it's been there 24 years, not 22 as I had thought). It's so sad. There is a library right across the street from the park it's used and they want to tear down all those beautiful trees - many of them upwards of a hundred years old - to build a new location for the library. This place that has been home to wonder, imagination and a touch of magic awe for twenty-four years will be leveled over and paved to make room for something that already exists. Such a waste. So sad to walk around there knowing those trees all had death sentance in a few short weeks.

The day was beautiful and the Faire was crowded to capacity. Everyone was in slightly somber spirits, though all had a good time. Took a bunch more pictures and I'll work on getting them into a gallery like I did for the 2002 Fesitval soon. There's quite a bit to go through, so it might take a couple days.

Made some new horns the night before, so I wore a pair of purplish ones that have a neat glitter to them as part of the clay. They got quite a few compliments from people. I had to be quite-witted when one guy said he'd never seen purple horns before and I told him that some of the Faeriekin have such colors. They look a little something like this:


After coming home and showering and taking a nap on the couch, my Love and I watched another episode of the very excellent Band of Brothers and then pretty much called it a night.



Hrm...well, that wasn't quite so quick as I had planned! *lol* Oh well, I'm glad I had time to write it out nonetheless. I think I'll call it a wrap for now since I still need to vacuum the living room. Have a good day all. :)

Sunday, April 13, 2003

Oookay...blogger's apparently fucked up right now. My last entry just didn't go anywhere and now the page won't even refresh. Weird. If this eventually posts, cool, but I think this and the last one will be lost somewhere in a fuckup.

Damn it's early! *yawns*

Had an AMAZING time at Cirque du Soleil but didn't get a chance to post yesterday and I'm up and getting ready to head out to the very last Renn Faire at the location it's been at for the last 22 years (hence the early awakening) so I'll be gone all day today, but I'll get a recap of both La Nouba and the Renn Faire tonight maybe when I get home (if I'm not too beat) or at worst, tomorrow.

Ciao!

journal archives