Sparks and Butterflies...

But aside from that, she's still completely normal

  • Home
  • About Michele

What the Hell Happened to Me?

November 5, 2019 By Michele Leave a Comment

In a word… Life.

I was looking at my blog and realized that I haven’t written consistently since 2016. Wow. And then life went crazy.

Here’s a very short synopsis, and I hope to come back write more specifically.

  • Mom died.
  • The after mom stuff – like what happened to her body and teaching dad how to function.
  • Getting used to dad’s new normal – which includes hording.
  • Getting used to our new normal.
  • Sassy dying.
  • Pebbles dying.
  • Dad becoming more dependent on us.
  • Dad getting sick.
  • Dad dying.
  • The after dad stuff. Like my family being fucking crazy, and death bringing out the very worst in people, and realizing I really don’t have anyone but Jay. Finding out what people really think of you? I don’t know.
  • Joseph graduating – and going from a minor to adult in all services.
  • Jamaica.
  • Lucy
  • The houses – pre-selling. Selling.
  • Moving, renting, the guest house, and more family what-the-ever-loving-fuck.
  • Hysterectomy?
  • Where we are now.
  • What the plans for the future are.
  • Jim. And Jeannette, my dad, and the whole tale.
  • Updates on Jay, Joseph, Logan, the pets, and me, now.

I Call Her Ringer

November 9, 2012 By Michele Leave a Comment

I have a sad story to tell. But first, election results. Hm. I don’t have much to say. I do not think the best man for our current situation won. But what’s done is done, and now we look forward in hopes that things will get better. Deal with the cards you’re dealt, right? I am, however, disappointed in a whole lot of people’s reactions. Whatever happened to being graceful winners and losers? What I’m really mad about, though, is my home state of California. Seriously. I’m having trouble articulating myself here, so please, go read Headless Mom’s post. She says it better.

On to other things.

For about a week, a young cat – not a kitten, but not full grown – was coming to my back door. I keep the screen door closed but the back door open, so it was coming right up to the screen and meowing at me. From my desk, which I’m at most of the day, I look right at that door, and so it could see me. It was a sort of brown striped cat, but I think it might have been grey stripes, like my old cat Bandit, and just really dirty. It wanted love. My other cats did not bring down the roof that we had an intruder – which they normally do with small animals. I went outside and gingerly pet it. I have kids and cats, and didn’t know where she’d been, or how feral she might be. But alas, I did not feed her. Can’t afford more vet bills. I had hopes she had a home nearby and was just dirty from recent outside forays, because in general she seemed well-kept, thin, but not starving, and liked humans. I’m a sucker for animals that come to my door. But potential vet bills (I would have to make sure shots were done, no worms and fleas, no bad kitty diseases to pass on to my other cats, and neutering happened), plus litter box issues (I have no where to put another one, and I feared that one more cat would be too much for the system we have in place), I couldn’t be responsible to take her in. But I talked nice to her, rubbed her belly ’cause she wanted me to, and secretly named her Ringer. She had dark brown distinct rings around her tail, kind of like a raccoon. I didn’t feed her, ’cause I didn’t want her to think this was home, or become dependent for food. She had dark brown distinct rings around her tail.

The next day she was back. She didn’t come to the door this time. I just saw her wandering the back yard taking nips of grasses.

The next day she was back. This time, I had salmon in my hand in the kitchen, and had to call Poe to talk me down. It was like an addict calling a sponsor.

The next night we had blood on our front porch.

The next day she didn’t show up. My father told me in a different topic of discussion that the rats were really bad, so he’d put rat poison out around his place. He lives next door.

The next day she showed up at my back door. Again she was meowing for me. She completely ignored everyone else. She wanted me. She was bleeding from her paw and her chest. Her meow sounded like chirps. This time, damn the money, I was taking her to the vet. I pulled out the carrier. She walked right into the damn thing. I took her to the vet, but they couldn’t see us for an hour. So I took her back home. I fed her some salmon and water. She was hungry, and she loved it. I scratched her head. She was extremely calm and content in the carrier, which had a squishy towel and was all enclosed. I kept her in the backyard til I could take her back to the vet. She was fine in the carrier as long as it wasn’t moving. She hollered a lot when it was though.

In the vet’s office, she yowled unless she could see me. If she could see me she was fine. She was absolutely fine while they weighed her, and while the vet examined her. While I was waiting on the vet, I found a special place behind her ears, and she started purring. Sadly, the vet told me that she had been poisoned about 10 days ago. The reason she wanted me, and kept showing up for me? She’s still young and it was her instinct to find a mommy to take care of her, ’cause she knew something was wrong. He told me we could spend about $1,000, and try and treat her (which we don’t have), but that in his opinion, she was simply too sick to make it. He said that really, the best thing to do at this point, would be to put her to sleep. He said that she would be too far gone once they narrowed down the substance in order to antidote her. He also said that had I not brought her in, she would die in about 2 days, and it would be an excruciatingly painful death. And so, I decided the kindest thing to do would be to put her down. The reality is, I would not be able to raise the funds in time to save her, and he said it was a 90% chance she wouldn’t make it anyway, with treatment. He gave her a sedative, and left me with her to love her to sleep. She snored. As she went to sleep, I talked to her, and scratched her behind the ears. The vet charged me for an office visit, but he’s taking care of all the other costs. So, once she was asleep, he took her away. He said, “I know what you’re trying to do here. I’ll take care of everything else. She found a mommy, and that’s all she wanted. I can tell by my exam that she’s had a really, really hard life.” So. In the end, she got to have salmon for a last meal, she was warm, she had something soft, and someone scratched her ears.

By the end of it, I’d gone through half the doctor’s kleenex, which he slipped me during the exam.

In my family, they always send me to put the animals down at the end. I’m not sure why. But I always go, and sit, and talk, and rub. Everyone should have love at the end. But I always feel as if a little part of my soul was ripped out and ground into dust.

Freaky Cat Number One

November 4, 2012 By Michele Leave a Comment

We have two cats. I thought I’d tell you about them, one at a time to lengthen my nablopomo posts so you don’t get overwhelmed.

So the first… Sassy. Here, have some cuteness…

This one. Oy. First off – she loves herself a warm body. Kids go to bed – she’s with one of them. Then one of us goes to bed, so at some point, she can be found in one of our crotches, or wrapped around my head. Then we get up early, so she goes to Joseph. Joseph gets up next, so she moves on to Logan. At which point, he gets up, and she bides her time until I sit to work for the day, so she can claim my lap.

I don’t care if she’s dead to the world, if she hears the food, it takes 1/2 a second for her to show up in the kitchen. Possibly still half asleep. Also, if she’s awake, it doesn’t matter what I’m doing in the kitchen. OBVIOUSLY there must be food involved.

And her most endearing quality… If I start talking in my teacher voice (explaining something to the kids), or speak animatedly (telling Poe a story), or really am mad and venting, she assumes I’m mad or sad. She will do anything in her power to get into my arms in order to bury her head in my neck and hug me. You can tell, she’s just trying to calm me down. “Mommy don’t be sad!” And rest assured, if someone’s sick, she can tell, and she’ll stick by them like glue (with lots of snuggles and head butts) until they feel better.

Her biggest quirk? If we have a cold drink she will find it and lick the outside condensation. She doesn’t want the drink – she wants the outside. She does the same thing to the windows on foggy days, or in the bathroom when the condensation forms on the glass due to the steam. And? She may have the most noxious flatulence in the animal kingdom.

Freaky Cat Number Two

October 30, 2012 By Michele 1 Comment

Number two brings us Pebbles. Here is a visual.

Pebbles is… Unique. She is the half sister biologically of Sassy. They came from the same home, from a family we knew and trusted. Sassy, when she came to live us, was loving and attached to me as Mama very quickly. A couple of years later came Sassy. She… Had a much more difficult transition. If I didn’t know better, I would assume that she was abused. In fact, it’s like she hid under the bed for her first two years here. Every time she came out, Poe would grab her up, hold her firmly, and love on her just a second past her wanting to get down. Over time, it took longer and longer for her to fight to get down. Over the last year, we’ve seen SO MUCH PROGRESS! Now… She’s our buddy. She’s still not a snuggler. But she can be found near us at all time. She begs for attention. She LOVES getting love.

Some quirks of this cat… If someone goes to the bathroom, she barrels through the door. She has somehow figured out that if we’re on the toilet, we’re indisposed of for a period of time. What better way to pass the time, than to scratch her head? She does not want to drink out her water bowl, although she will if she has to. She’d much prefer you run the bathroom sink for fresh water out of the faucet, thank you. Battery operated toothbrushes are the devil, period. If she’s going to eat, she’d like you to rub her tummy while she does it, thanks, during which she will purr as she chews, which is the oddest snarfy sound. If she falls asleep, she will suddenly startle awake, think that she’s been unconscious for 10 years, run for us yelling loudly, and start doing somersaults to try and get you to rub her belly. It’s been 15 minutes since she got her belly scratched, you see. And finally – she loves to lick plastic. Plastic bags, plastic packaging… Her Favorite.Thing.Ever. is a partially opened package of toilet paper. She’s very, very strange.

Princess and Snufflupaguss

March 14, 2011 By Michele 2 Comments

There’s lots’ of stuff going on right now. Frankly, I just don’t want to think about it at all, so I’m just not going to. Instead, I’d like to tell you a love story.

As a crossing guard, I spend a lot of time watching the grass grow. Literally. To remain sane, you become hyper aware of your surroundings. You begin to pick out patterns and routines around you. My “post” is across the street from a park. Many folks walk their dogs there in the mornings.

Around 8:30am, a large gold truck will park. An older, large man in his sweats will get out, hike his paints up a bit, open the back door to grab some stuff, and then will grab his dog. I have no idea what breed this dog is. She’s white (it’s totally a “she”), with curly hair, and on the large side of the small category. She’s totally perked up and ready to go. She doesn’t bark at anyone. She goes right to the grass to do a little bit of “business” and lifts her head and tosses her hair, and goes on to march around their route – which she picks. She picks the same one every time. This is one spoiled dog. On particularly cold days, she has a bright pink sweater on. On rainy days, I kid you not, she wears a yellow doggie rain slicker. (It’s absolutely adorable.) She wears her clothes with a panache that many humans cannot duplicate. I have named her Princess in my head.

On most days, another set of dog/owner come along to the park. Sometimes around 8:30am, and sometimes not. They walk there. The owner is a scruffy man with a large backpack and a visor. They vary their route, and the dog also picks the route. This dog… I don’t know what it is, but it looks like a small horse. I think it’s a “he.” He will bark at all large vehicles – not in a warning manner – more like, “Look!  A Toy!” When standing next to me (they sometimes cross to my side of the street), his head reaches my ribcage. He has very long hair. It is worn in two pigtails so he can see. His hair is so long that when you see him trot from behind, his hair swings in a very distinctive manner. Thus, I have named him Snufflupaguss in my head.

The magic happens when both Snufflupaguss and Princess arrive at the park at the same time. They will spot each other from across the park. At that moment, the music swells, both owners let them off their leashes, and they run to each other from either side. When they meet, their tails wag so hard, their entire bodies move. Snufflupaguss will lay down so Princess can actually reach him. She’ll run circles around his body while he just wriggles. I can tell from all the way across the park and crowded intersection that they are screaming, “OMG IT’S MY FRIEND! MY FRIEND IS HERE! LOOK! IT’S MY FRIEND!” After their initial greeting, Snufflupaguss and Princess will form a circle and go around and around and around greeting each other in the timeless way of dogs… Sniffing each others butts. Their owners look on like proud, indulgent parents.

When these two get together, and I’m able to witness the event – it makes my whole day. Joy. It’s everywhere if you choose to look for it.

Next Page »

Wife. Mother. Daughter. Business owner. Please send coffee.

Follow Me

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • LinkedIn
  • RSS
  • Twitter

My Main Gig…


I provide Virtual Assistant services to individuals and small businesses to help them flourish...

View the Categories

Archives

My Writing Elsewhere

Recent Comments

  • Headless Mom on What the Summer Looked Like to me
  • Abbie on My Mom Died Last Night
  • Lamont Wimberly on A Joke from my Dad
  • Abbie on Help Me Understand Obamacare
  • sara on Help Me Understand Obamacare

Copyright 1998-2016 Michele Wilcox