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The sky is never the same twice.
It’s something I say all the time.
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Yet these photographs were taken on successive days.
That long, straight gap so noticeable.
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Even when the weather pattern doesn’t change, I’ve never seen such similarities. Even storm clouds have different appearances, but the thin cloud with long gap was in itself unusual.
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“Always got her head in the clouds.”
Maybe it accounts for the way I drift through a day on auto-pilot.
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Like most people I guess, I am a creature of habit.
Habits surely help us to organise our lives?
So many things you do every day, you don’t think about. You just do them, at least until some interruption occurs at just the wrong moment.
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Then…
“Did I give Willow her meds this morning?”
It’s rare that I forget cat medications, but Willow has on occasion come to remind when it’s time!
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Something that is more a preference than a habit:
My appointments at Clifton Park are always on a Monday or Tuesday, so I was completely certain that we would be going there this morning.
4th June was my father’s birthday.
Over the weekend I noted that it fell on a Tuesday and I remembered when making the appointment, I’d noticed that it was for the day after Dad’s birthday.
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This prompted me to check my weekly planner.
Ah. On Tuesday, we were bringing Tinkerbelle to have blood drawn, so I’d made my appointment for Wednesday.
Good job we didn’t drive all the way there for nothing.
Although the vet’s reminder call yesterday would have saved me from that embarrassment.
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Note to self: Don’t rely on memory.
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Tinkerbelle is a firecracker, at the best of times.
Carted to the vet to have needles stuck in her, she unleashes her ire at anyone or anything that comes within reach of her claws. Or teeth.
The vet has warnings posted about her.
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Taking our sweet kitty there is not a two-person job, but I went along so as to hold her carrier in my lap.
Not that she will have derived any comfort from being there, given the way she feels about me!
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But it’s nice to be out and about early and while the techs wrestled with our girl, I admired the flowers which decorate the parking area.
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They are always beautiful.
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Tinkerbelle is one of our four seniors.
And one of our thyroid cats.
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“One step closer, I shred you!”
Sad to say that as usual she misbehaved.
A blood draw is one thing, but today they needed to put a needle in her bladder for a specimen.
Even the mildest-mannered cat would have objections to that!
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“Making up for lost sleep.”
“I only got 23 hours yesterday.”
Lily sleeps quite a bit more than she used to and she does a lot of loud talking. Elderly cats sometimes do.
We think she is about 14 which isn’t all that old for a cat, but she no longer seems like a kitten, as she did until fairly recently.
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“I hope you’re not calling me old?”
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Muffin was already mature when she came to us in 2017. She has been through a lot in the 7 years we’ve had her and sometimes she seems so frail.
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We don’t know what trauma scared Sophia into leading such a solitary life.
When she was young she had many snuggle-buddies but one by one she lost them all.
Even Patches, her half-sister stopped curling up with her when she decided to broaden her horizons.
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For years, we scarcely saw Sophia.
After very patient and consistent efforts, Grant was able to coax her out. She has learned that she loves being petted.
But she is an old girl now, with the issues that come with age. To force treatment on her would destroy the progress she’s made and ultimately it probably would not extend her life.
Deafness is maybe a blessing for an animal that is easily startled.
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The four losses of recent months were a harsh reminder of losses past and too many more to come.
A bit like Sophia, in old age I found peace and some happiness. But the one heartache I have never learned to deal with is the loss of my beloved animal companions.
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I’ve done a lot of reading, talked at length to therapists.
I am not totally stupid. I know that animals live much shorter lives than we do and grief is part of the contract we must accept when we take animals into our lives.
There are those who consider people like me weak or deluded or mentally deficient in some way.
For a long time I thought so myself.
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But I know now that I am none of those things.
I feel very deeply. I just do. It’s who I am. I can’t change it anymore than I can change the colour of my eyes.
I don’t need to be ashamed or apologise for it.
You are right, Carolyn, you would have to have a heart of stone not to grieve for the friends you lost.
The flowers outside the veterinary surgery are very beautiful indeed!
I wouldn’t torment an elderly cat with invasive tests, that you would not like later in your life either!
Joanna
We grow old with our pets. We see parts of ourselves in them, and they become part of us. Anyone who doesn’t get that is barely worth speaking to. Stay as you are. (I know you will)
Best wishes, Pete.
The long gap in the clouds is very interesting indeed – even if you just saw it on one day, but two days in a row is quite special. Wow, the flowers at the vet’s premises are beautiful (thanks Tinkerbelle for the opportunity to see them). I agree 100% with you Carolyn: There is absolutely no way we need to apologise for who we are. Your cats are lucky to have found you and Grant.