Author: mec2973

I work as a software tester for an awesome company.

Missy and the Spider

Missy unlike Skip was always up to catch bugs, mice, spiders, etc. You name it and she probably wanted to kill it.  One night this playfulness could have cost her life.  I’m stretching it a bit, but a Brown Recluse spider bite is serious in humans and even more serious in cats.  This incident happened when Missy was fairly young.

I was an avid reader growing up.  I used to use my extra allowance to buy books plus my parents and grandparents used to buy books for me.  It was nothing for me to buy 4 to 5 teen books on Friday and have them read by Monday.  Then the whole week, I would read and reread the books until I could get new ones.  If for some reason I was out of allowance or we didn’t make it to the store, I would just reread the books I had.  Once I turned sixteen, my Grandma started sneaking me adult romance novels to help me out with books.  Grandma gave me some of the less explicit romance novels. 😉  At sixteen, I now had to pay for gas for my car, so I had less money to go towards books even if dad did add $10 a week for gas (Oh how times have changed).

Since we were generally busy on Saturdays, cleaning or working outside, I read in the evening or late at night.  Plus Sundays was our day of relaxation, so I would spend my time reading.  Homework?  I did that at school.  I rarely brought homework home.  Math and English papers were the primary items that I brought home, but my math teacher took pity on us and rarely assigned homework on Fridays.  Fridays were our test days over the material we studied for that week.  In general over the weekend, I had no homework to do.

One Saturday late at night, after a successful book run that weekend, I was in bed reading a particularly good book, and it occurred to me that Missy wasn’t curled up next to me like usual.  I always read with the door shut due to the light and it was like 2 AM, and I knew Missy was in the room.  I looked around and she was on the floor playing with something.  I didn’t think anything of it; I just figured that she found one of her rabbit’s feet that she loved to play with.

I settled back down into the nice warm waterbed and my book.  Suddenly, I got startled out of my reading to see Missy jumping straight up and down at the foot of the bed.  It was spooky because she was literally jumping straight up and as soon as she landed, she’d jump again.

I got up and told Missy she was scaring me.  I knew something was wrong, but when I ran over to her, I saw nothing around that would cause her to jump up and down.  When she landed, I wrapped my hand under her to pick her up and instantly felt pain like someone stabbed me with a pin.  I kind of tossed her into my other hand and caught her while shaking my hand that was injured.

Missy was no longer freaking out and I still saw nothing on the floor.  I looked down at my hand and I saw two marks right next to my middle finger knuckle.  It had to be a spider, but I didn’t see the spider around.  I kept Missy in my left arm; she was perfectly happy there.  For some reason, I picked up a jacket on the back of a chair and went to hang it up.  My room used to be a mess, so I guess I decided to clean up to try and find the spider.

That’s when I noticed that my right hand was going numb; it wasn’t completely numb, but it was getting there as I had limited feeling.  I immediately headed with Missy to the bathroom.  I ran my right hand under cold water for several minutes.  I then opened my parents’ bedroom door and went to mom.  Now my mom sleeps pretty sound and doesn’t wake up very well, but she’s in the medical field, so she is the one I needed.  I shook her while saying “Mom, mom, come on mom wake up!”

Finally, she awoke and asked what was wrong in a very sleepy voice.  I told her I was bitten by a spider.  In her grogginess, she said “Get a baggy fill it with ice and ice it.”  And she promptly fell back asleep.  I said “Ok”, and with Missy still in my left arm (at least Missy was young at the time and very light), I headed to the kitchen.  I got a baggy out and filled it with ice.  I could have done it faster with Missy on the floor, but I was worried about her running back to the room and trying to kill the spider.  I didn’t want her hurt.  I grabbed a kitchen towel and headed back to the danger zone as the spider was still somewhere in my bedroom.

After about 30 minutes, I think mom in her sleep, realized that the bite must have been pretty serious for me to wake her.  I rarely complained about bug bites, so for me to actually wake her, told her that something more serious was going on.  Eventually, her brain kicked in and woke her up.  The next thing I know, my door is flying open.  She looked at me, and all lights were on in my room, Missy was still in my arms, an ice pack on my hand, and tears coming down my face.  I was spooked.  I’m not sure if I have ever been more spooked.

She sat down and asked to see my hand.  It was starting to swell up, and I told her I couldn’t’ feel it.  She went out and grabbed her evil tool kit that she uses to get splinters out.  Yes, it is evil, and if you have ever had her dig a splinter out of your hand, you would know just how evil it is.

She said, “This might hurt a bit.” And then lanced the bite open.  I didn’t feel a thing.  When she lanced it, liquid came out that had a rainbow shine to it from the light.  Mom immediately started sucking out the poison.  Once she got blood to come out, she stopped.  She then put alcohol on it and dressed it.  She told me to keep the ice on it.   Then she had me hold Missy, so that she could see if there were any bites on her.  Other than ticking Missy off, Missy was fine.  She never was bitten.

The next day, my hand was swollen again, so mom reopened it and did the same thing.  I also found and killed the spider the next morning.  It appears to have been a Brown Recluse.  I know people say the bite shouldn’t hurt when it first occurs, but I have a low tolerance for pain, so I felt every bit of the fangs breaking my skin.  Plus the bite was on my hand which was extra sensitive since earlier in the year I was hospitalized for dehydration and pneumonia.  They stuck my right hand three times for the IV, so my hand was extra sensitive.

What had happened was the spider was at the foot of the bed.  Missy at some point decided to kill it, but instead, the spider jumped on her mid section right where her heart was.  I have no idea how Missy knew that this was bad, but she did.  She started jumping to try and dislodge the spider.  The vet said that Brown Recluse spider bites can be very dangerous to a young cat especially if bit right where the heart is.  The vet said she was a lucky cat.

It took several months before the venom was completely gone from my hand.  If I hit my knuckle on anything, it would swell up and mom would relance it.  We’d see the venom come out.  Mom would keep extracting it until we saw blood come out.  I think the initial steps that we took that night were what kept me from having a severe issue like the Brown Recluse spider bite pictures you see out on websites.  Plus I was on antibiotics, antihistamines, and steroids for chronic bronchitis at the time which was probably a tremendous help.

The interesting thing that I noticed after this incident was that mosquitoes avoided me.  They only attacked me when there was no one else around and were desperate.  Spiders were however attracted to me.  I got numerous bites from non-venomous spiders.  While those were felt, they did not even come close tot he bite I felt that night.  The location of where I was bit probably has something to do with how much the brown recluse spider bite hurt.  This could all be coincidence, but you just never know.

Btw, dad had an exterminator come out and treat our house; just in case the guy who bit me had any friends.  Missy…she was fine.  She still attacked spiders and everything else that moved.  She wasn’t fazed in the least.  I figure that I saved her life that night by taking the bite for her, and I’d do it again if I needed to because our bodies are a lot larger and can dilute the venom over a much larger space.

To this day, I can’t stand spiders and I am afraid of them.   I still have the scars today from the bite.  They are a lot fainter now, but I know where they are and can pick out the dots.  I can at least kill spider, but I do have to take a deep breath before doing so.  I imagine that my reaction to spiders is probably what has Skip scared of spiders.

Missy and I declared war on spiders.  I used to have no issue with them, but they drew first blood, so I really don’t care how much good they do.  If they come around me, they are dead no if and or buts.  Well, actually most are.  I won’t kill Daddy Long Legs.  While Daddy Long Legs are extremely poisonous, they can’t bite through our skin. I know that so, I will move them out of my way.  However, Missy just likes to kill bugs, and really doesn’t care what type they are. 🙂

And that is the story about Missy and the spider.

Missy

Everybody remembers their first pet very fondly and I am no different.  However with my first pet, everyone in my family has a Missy story to tell, and I mean everyone.  Some are good, and some are…hmmm…evidence that she wasn’t so sweet to everyone.

When I was a kid, dad had a dog named Sparky and mom had a cat named Precious.  I grew up with the two of them, but neither was mine.  Precious avoided me like the plague; due to my ill advised pulling out of his whiskers on one side when I was pretty young.  I got into deep, deep trouble over that.  I have no idea why I did it, but after that incident I was not one to harm the hair on the head of any other animal; unless it was suffering.  So, whatever punishment I got (probably a spanking, grounding, and chores) was enough to scare me straight.  Precious and I did make up once I was older and had a nice warm water bed. 🙂

Anyway, by the time I was thirteen, I had earned the trust of my parents that I was responsible enough for a pet.  Or at least mom was up for another cat; dad was still a dog person at that time and did not want to live with two cats.

Mom called the humane society on my birthday and a guy had just brought in a mommy with 6-week old kittens.  His apartment on campus wouldn’t allow pets and it broke his heart to take them to the shelter.  Dad and I met mom there and I was told I could pick out one kitten.

It’s there that my dad’s life changed because I picked out Missy.  And when I say his life changed, I mean big time.  Missy was the most stubborn, affectionate, fast, nimble, playful, protector, hunter, etc cat that I and my family have ever met.  Part of why my dad likes cats now is because of Missy.

When I held Missy, something set her apart from her sisters, and I decided on her.  Her first act was pulling a stitch out of my sweater. 🙂  Missy was half Abyssinian and half Siamese.  She looked like an old tabby cat, but her voice had the dialect of Siamese.

From day one Missy was a talker.  She would talk to you or wander through the house looking for you crying for you to answer.  She was really funny with hide and seek which was one of her favorite games.  I’d lose her somehow in our house and head over to dad’s bathroom (only named that because that’s where his stuff was).  He had a shower that we rarely used in there.  I’d quietly open the door and get inside.  Then I would holler as loud as I could “MISSSSY!!!”  She’d come flying through the bathroom.  When she got to either the bedroom or kitchen (depending on direction) she’d yell “MOM!”  I’d quietly say her name the next time “missy”.  She’d fly back through and would holler “MOM!” with urgency because she couldn’t find me.  I’m telling you she would have been a good mouser with as good of hearing as she had because the next time, I’d whisper “missy”.  She’d be right at the door.  Only the first time, did I have to step out to show her where I was.  After that, it didn’t take her long to figure it out.

Along with having awesome ears, Missy loved her tail.  Oh my, how she loved that tail.  It was the scrawniness tail you have ever seen, but she was quite proud of it.  It was the one thing that if you grabbed onto would get you bit.  She never broke the skin on the first bite; it was more of a warning.  If you continued to persist, she would go deeper until you got the idea that touching her tail was not the greatest idea in the world.  Missy would bite any kid that touched her tail.  The kids could pet her and pull her fur, and she wouldn’t say a thing.  As soon as the kids touched her tail though, there were words and usually teeth involved.  As far as I know she never bit a kid and broke the skin.  She definitely scared a few though.

What’s funny is that scrawny tail is why she was so nimble at walking on ledges or narrow fences.  She was very coordinated at maneuvering her tail to keep her body balanced.  So far, she is the most nimblest cat I have ever met.  Skip and Mason aren’t even in the same league they are so poor at being nimble and Oreo, well he’s better, but he has so much fur on his tail that he loses out.  Missy wins by a long shot.

Missy was leash trained and this time by leash trained, I mean you could walk around outside with Missy and she would follow.  Now she was a little slower than a dog because she had to smell everything, but just a little tug would get her moving again.  My favorite thing to watch was her jumping after a bug in the yard.  I’d be holding the leash, but she had plenty of slack.  The bug would jump and so would Missy.  Missy would have both paws out in front of her landing where she thought the bug would be.  She could play that game for hours.  Her other favorite outside activity was laying on a wood swing that we had.  I would tie her off on the swing; she’d climb up in it and lay across it.  When the wind blew, she was swinging.  🙂  She loved it.

One of the unfortunate things that did happened when Missy was really young was she got into some ivy that mom had up on the counter.  Ivy is poisonous to cats.  We came home from Christmas Eve at Grandma’s to a mess.  Missy knowing that she had a problem after eating the ivy started eating the real Christmas tree we had until she did what cats do and expelled the Ivy.  Not knowing what the problem was…Christmas tree or Ivy; Dad promptly placed the Christmas tree on the deck outside.  That’s how we celebrated Christmas next day with the tree lit up…outside.  On Christmas Day, Missy couldn’t keep any food down.  Mom suggested Second year Baby Food Meats because the food is already processed to try and get her system to relax.  Dad and I headed out and found the one grocery store that was open.  Missy loved the food.

It only took a week to get her back onto real cat food.  To this day, if a cat of mine is having trouble eating for whatever reason, we get the second year meats baby food.  Usually, it only takes a day or two for kitties to heal enough for regular food.  I don’t recommend the baby food for long term use because it’s baby food and has high sodium, but short term use, it works great.

Missy was rotten, but in a funny way.  🙂  One of the things she used to do was knock over the trash can for the dog.  Missy had the size and strength to do it where as our dog was little.  As far as I know Missy never actually ate anything out of the garbage, but merely assisted the dog.  My dad would be the first one up and in his bare feet (after walking through it in socks once) would walk in coffee grounds.  Sometimes he cleaned it up (it was his dog) and sometimes I was awoken (my cat) to clean it up.  Not too long after, mom and dad just bought a wood trash can that Missy couldn’t knock over.  You see we were human’s in training by the cat.  Some things were just easier to change rather than try and catch the stubborn cat in the act.

Missy was also a meat thief.  This is totally another story and funny, but as my aunt and uncle learned when they watched her once (only once as she was told she could not return) when we warned them about putting meat in the microwave when you leave the kitchen…we were serious.  This story is also where my dad got his big training and I think came to really respect Missy as more than a cat.  So, for now I will leave it that she was a meat thief. 😉

Another part of our training was to put the toilet seat down.  Missy loved water! And spray bottle containing water were play for her.  Before we got her, my parents and I rarely put the toilet seat down.  After finding Missy playing in a toilet which got her a prompt bath, we started putting the toilet seat down.  Any visitors were given instructions to put the seat down.  One of us would go and make sure they did when they were finished.  They probably never realized it as we did it by stealth.  She was the easiest cat to give a bath to and a single person could do it right in the kitchen sink.  She wasn’t running anywhere, she liked the water.  You could also blow dry her on the slowest setting.  Being vacuumed with the brush attachment was another of her odd favorite things.

The other thing Missy (she was really long) could do, that very few cats can do was open doors.  When we moved to our new house, Mom thought the lever handles on the doors looked nice and so she had dad replace all the round door handles with the lever kind.  Missy was smart enough that she figured out how to open them.  Obviously, if she was on the side where the door would open inward, she had no trouble.  But she was smart enough and worked hard enough at opening a door that opened inward from the opposite side.  It was really funny to watch because it took her several tries to get the door unlatched.  Once it was unlatched she’d work the door from underneath until it opened.  She loved standing on her tip toes to see over things.

Missy was really intelligent and you could see it in her eyes as she figured out how to get what she wanted.  Of course, what she wanted wasn’t necessarily what she should have or what she should do.  For example, Missy could not stand to see me pay any attention to Mechant (mom’s cat).  Mechant would pay the price for me even talking to her.  Missy would get into trouble for hitting Mechant.  And then the funniest thing would happen (funny now), whoever would tell her to go to her room for timeout.  She’d go trotting back to my room with a human following her to shut the door.  She’d be put into timeout for 15 minutes.  If Missy came out with a bad attitude which resulted in Mechant getting hit again, then we’d send her back to her room for another timeout.  The next time she came out, she wasn’t happy, but would avoid any confrontations.  For the record, there was a difference between her playing and just plain old hitting Mechant.  You’d have to be there, but we knew the difference.

Now I don’t want it to sound like Missy was a mean cat.  She wasn’t; even if she had the vet scared of her. 😉  Missy was more vocal (read Siamese which sounded really scary) than she was physical.  Her bark was actually way worse than her bite.  She was very sweet if you were dad, mom, my grandma (mom’s mom) or I.  All of us knew that to control Missy you had to get the upper hand and could not allow her to be alpha over you.  Most people (even dogs) would shy away which gave Missy power.  She once hit a German Shepard so hard that it ran tail back to its owner.  She would not back down, but would hold her ground.  If you stood up to her, she respected you.

I really miss her and some of the things she pulled.  Today they are funny, but boy she could get dad’s blood boiling.  He’s since been fully trained by Missy and our boys today don’t realize how good they have it.  We still enjoy telling Missy stories which usually begin with “Do you remember the time she…”  Everyone has a story to tell, and if I haven’t seen my aunts, uncles and cousins in awhile, they will ask about Skip and inevitably a Missy story is always told…usually with affection.  She touched a lot of people and even people who are dog people could appreciate and respect her.

Missy was the ultimate first pet and there will never, ever be another cat like her. 🙂  May everyone have a first pet that is as memorable as mine was.  Rest in peace, Missy!

Cable TV

My grandma (mom’s mom) was an awesome grandma who loved me and the Cubs very much.  Back when I was a kid, many people just used antennas to get cable channels.  There were three main channels that you could get ABC, NBC, and CBS.  If you were lucky on a clear day you might get a fuzzy picture of another channel, but for the most part, it was just those three channels.

My parents at some point when I was young decided to get cable.  It was the thing to have because you could get 12 channels with cable and the channels were so clear.  Later on, cable companies added cable boxes which started the influx of more channels until we are where we are today with way too many channels.

My parents worked different shifts, so that for the most part one was home with me at all times.  A really good friend of the family used to come over for the hour between when one had to go to work and the other was one their way home.  My dad worked nights.

Once he was home and the friend of the family had left, I was taught how to watch my shows on TV.  There was no remote control, so I learned to turn the dial to specific channels. 🙂  My shows were Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.  This gave my dad some time to get some rest while I watched and played quietly.  This is something that many parents today probably couldn’t do, but my dad could because I never bothered anything other than my own toys.

At some point, my dad was switched to days and both of my parents worked the same shift.  I was in early grade school at this point and my parents had to find someone to watch me during the summers.  My grandmother was chosen and one of the few my mother trusted with me.  She was a Tupperware salesperson (and a really good one at that time), and she knew that I wouldn’t bother anyone at the parties she had to host, so she agreed.  Besides when I was older I was free labor to help load and unload the car. 😉

In the mornings, I was taken to grandmas and dropped off.  There was only one problem…they didn’t have cable.  I couldn’t watch my shows.  Before the people who say kids shouldn’t watch too much TV, at the time, those two shows were my TV.  I only watched these two shows during the day.  The rest of the time I played outside/inside or I helped grandma out.

Now my grandma was an avid Cubs fan.  She listened to every game on the radio.  Listening to the radio just wasn’t the same as watching it on TV.  She knew that my grandpa couldn’t stand to see me cry.  People tell me that I would get big ol’ crocodile tears in my eyes, but wouldn’t make a sound while crying, and it just about broke their hearts to see any tears from me.

One day, while grandpa was at work, grandma asked me if I wanted cable at their house.  Of course I said yes.  She told me that when he gets home that I needed to crawl up in his lap and ask for cable TV.  When he told me no, I was to start crying and tell him that I couldn’t watch my shows and I really wanted to.  She said that will get cable TV for you to watch your shows and for me to watch the Cubs.  Grandma was adamant that I had to be the one to do it and that she couldn’t ask for me.

Now some might say that this is a bad habit to start with a little kid, and I’m not real sure if grandma thought I’d go through with her plan or not.  I was a really shy kid, so she probably figured that I would back out.  But we made a deal, so in my young mind I couldn’t back out.  Plus I wasn’t just doing this for myself; I was doing it for grandma, so that she could watch the Cubs.

Grandpa finally came home from work and gave me the gum from his lunchbox.  Grandpa always bought a pack of gum from the vending machine at work.  This was back when it only cost a quarter for 5 sticks of gum.  Whatever gum was leftover at the end of the day was mine.  I think he bought the pack everyday for me.  Sometimes there would be 3 sticks and sometimes, he never even touched it.  It was just something little that he could give me, and he knew I would light up with happiness that he had thought of me.

I took his lunchbox from him and into grandma, so she could clean it out and get it ready for the next day.  Grandma looked at me and motioned to the living room with a wink.  I nervously turned around and quietly went into the living room.

Grandpa was in his chair cooling off.  So, I crawled up onto his lap.  By this time, I was so nervous about what I was to do, that I already had tears streaming down my face.  I had never manipulated anyone in my life to get what I wanted.  This was my first time, and I was scared that I would get into trouble.  Even knowing that grandma would come to my rescue couldn’t stop my tears.

Grandpa scooped me up and asked why I was crying.  I said in a very garbled voice “I <sniff> ca <sniff> <sniff> n’t <sniff> wa <sniff> <sniff> tch <sniff> <sniff> my <sniff> s <sniff> <sniff> ho <sniff> ws <sniff> <sniff> be <sniff> ca <sniff> <sniff> ca <sniff> use <sniff> <sniff> you <sniff> <sniff>  do <sniff> n’t <sniff> <sniff> ha <sniff> ve <sniff><sniff>  CA <sniff> BLE <sniff> <sniff>”  Of course my grandfather couldn’t understand me.  He asked me again which just made it worse because I was worried this meant he was onto me.  Finally grandpa hollered into the kitchen “What’s wrong with this baby? She’s crying and I can’t understand what’s wrong!”

My grandma came in and said “She’s upset because she couldn’t watch her shows today or any other day.”  Grandpa replied with “Her shows? She has shows?” An exasperated grandma said, “Yes, her shows: Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.  They are on cable and she can’t watch them here because we don’t have cable.  She’s upset because she found out that she can’t watch them all summer because we don’t have CABLE.” She really stressed the word cable.

Grandpa looked at me and asked if that was why I was crying.  I nodded my head while looking at him with the crocodile tears welling up in my eyes.  It’s the last part that put him over the edge.  He gave me a big hug and said, “It’ll be ok.  Grandpa will fix it. How much is cable?”  Now if he were thinking, he’d realize that grandma answered a little too quickly.  He pulled the money out of his pocket and told grandma to go down to the cable company tomorrow and get the cable installed for this baby.

My tears turned into a big smile!  It worked!  My grandma just winked at me and said to grandpa, “Whatever you say.  You know you spoil that child too much!”  🙂 I spent the rest of the afternoon on grandpa’s lap.  When I went to leave, my grandma gave me a big hug and told me that I did great.

And that my friend is how my grandparents got cable.  My aunt who was still living there at the time was livid.  She had been trying to get them to get cable for a long time, and all it took was little ol’ me to cry and get what I wanted.

My grandmother and I had an agreement.  I got to watch what I wanted in the mornings and she got to watch the Cubs in the afternoon.  Back then all games were day games, so I became a huge Cubs fan growing up.  I usually watched the game with her, but some of the time, I did 50-50 between watching the game and playing outside.  In the mornings, I usually only watched a couple of hours of TV (sometimes while helping her bag Tupperware) before heading outside; unless it was raining of course. 🙂

Today my grandfather tells me that I owe him for the years of the cable that he has had to pay for.  At some point, someone told him about grandma’s scheme.  Of course, he came to enjoy watching cable and decided to keep it even after he found out.  You just never know what you want until you have it. 🙂

I’ll Follow You

As you may have determined, my poor mother who is probably about ready to kill me, was just a tad protective.  My aunt is the one, who thought of this story, and it is funny in a way and we laugh about it now. 🙂

An exciting time in any young person’s life is getting their driver’s license.  I was no different.  My parents sent me to Driver’s Ed the summer before I turned 16.  Driver’s Ed was fun, easy, and nerve-racking all at the same time.  You see I had no problem with driving and the instructor only commented that I was cautious which I don’t think is too bad.  Of course my car had the scary driver in it.  You know the type where they hit the gas instead of the brake. 🙂  I think our instructor about lost it when that happened.

I was not that scary driver.  Of course my dad might comment that I was scary in my own way.  For example, if I didn’t need to cross a centerline, I wouldn’t.  I drove my mom’s Buick Regal down a road with parked cars on it and didn’t cross the centerline once.  Dad actually brought his arm in which he had been hanging out the window.  I made him a little nervous.  When we got to my destination, my mom started criticizing me in front of my grandparents.  Dad had a nervous laugh over it while we were there and was more teasing me.  I asked a simple question, “Did I hit anything? The answer is no, and I knew that there was room for the car and had no need to cross the centerline, so why would I.”  Grandma (GmaS) sided with me which put an end to the discussion. She was great about that. 😉

Anyway, I flew through Driver’s Ed without any trouble and at some point close to my birthday my dad and I went car shopping.  Dad was looking for something in good condition that looked sporty, but without the cost of a sports car.  I was just excited to get a car.  Honestly, I think getting me a car was more for dad than me.  My father had been hauling my behind to/from school for band practice, games, competitions, clubs, etc through junior high and high school.  At least my high school was only 15 minutes away (the junior high was over 30 minutes away).  🙂

We found a 1987 Plymouth Duster in red of course that I fell in love with and dad liked as well.  It looked sporty, but wasn’t a sports car which meant the price was reasonable.  This became my car and was promptly named Little Red.  Dad had a red pickup at the time which he called Red…he soon got another vehicle, but the name stuck with my car.

Luckily my birthday fell such that I didn’t get my license until the weather was nice out, so I could get a whole spring, summer, and fall behind the wheel before dealing with snow.  I still remember my first time driving.  This was before cell phones, so I had no way to let my mom know I was ok until I returned home.  I am sure she worried the whole time.

Anyway, my first drive was up to the general store that my other Grandma (GmaB) worked in.  I drove up there and spent some time with her.  It was a Thursday and little did I know I was there on delivery day.  I stood talking to GmaB while she put price tags on items and stocked the shelves.  She was the only one working, so she had to take care of the register too.  Well, stocking is in my wheel house.  I love organizing things.  So, while she took care of a customer, I stocked the shelves for her.  When she returned, she was a little surprised, but I had done it correctly by moving the old stock to the front and every single can was turned in exactly the same direction.

Before the next customer arrived, GmaB showed me where the price was on the next box and how to set the machine.  So, I just continued on stocking the shelves.  I loved it and GmaB was happy for the help.  After that, I went down there every Thursday that summer to help with the stocking.  Most of the time it was for free, but every now and then I’d get $20 from GmaB for helping out without being asked.  She said it was gas money for coming down there.

Fridays I spent at GmaS’ house taking her to the store and wherever she needed to go.  We played Yatzee and ate lunch together which usually consisted of Totino’s pizza.  I loved spending time with both of my grandma’s.

Time flew by and school was back in session.  I was driving to school every day and made sure before I left that the calendar was up to date with my after school activities.  The snow came early that year and we got some snow in December.  I woke up to about 2 inches on the ground.  Not much at all, but enough to panic my mom.  The normal routine in our house in the morning was dad was up first and then I got up at 6 am.  My job before walking out the door was to wake mom up.  This was back when alarm clocks only had one setting.  I know the dark ages.  It was easier for me to get mom up than for dad to reset the alarm clock.

Dad told me before he left for work to be careful and take my time getting to school.  He also suggested leaving at 6:30 am instead of 6:45 am to ensure that I had enough time.  He may have been nervous about me driving in the snow, but he didn’t show it.  Dad told me that what would be, would be and if I got in an accident, that we could fix the car and just relax and drive smart.

Dad left and mom was up.  I think he knew what was brewing and got out of there.  Mom first said, “You’re not driving today.  You’re taking the bus.”  To which I replied, “Of course I’m driving to school today.  I refuse to take the bus.  I hate that bus.  Plus dad is fine with me driving.”  My bus went through a bad neighborhood.  We lived in a safe area, but there were just a few of us over there, so we got stuck with the bus that went through the bad trailer park.  I had some trouble in the past with bullies on the bus, so I was not eager to get back on that bus.  I had the taste of freedom.

I told mom that dad said for me to leave a little earlier and that I would be fine.  Mom, not wanting to undermine dad, found another way to make sure I was ok.  She said, “Fine! I’ll follow you.”  I was flabbergasted, “What? To school? Nobody else’s mom is following them.  You can’t do this to me.”  She said, “It’s that or the bus.”  I then realized the time…Dad had told me to leave at 6:30 am and it was 6:10 am.  I could get ready in 20 minutes, but could mom?

I said, “I’m not riding the bus.  If you want to follow me, fine! I will not be late to school though.  Dad told me to leave at 6:30 am and that is the time I will walk out the door.  You want to follow me?  You have 20 minutes to get ready.”  It’s funny now, but I was hopping mad.  Mom was just worried.

Miraculously, my mother was ready at 6:30 am.  I have no idea how she did it.  Knowing her, she probably didn’t put her make-up on until she got to work.  So, out we headed.  I had to clean off my car since it sat outside, but I was ready to go in no time.  Mom said she was ready and for me to lead.

I was nervous, but I kept my head like dad told me.  I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.  I pulled forward to the stop sign on the street and waited for mom.  When I saw her behind me I took off.  Our road’s speed limit is 45 mph, and I gradually increased to 35 mph.  I was comfortable at that speed and the car was fine.  It was not slipping or sliding.  All was good.  I decided to look to see how mom was doing.

Let’s just say not well. 😉  Hee-hee.  You see my car was front wheel drive and hers was rear wheel drive.  This means that my car had the weight of the engine on the tires with the power.  Moms’ car however did not and add on top of that that dad hadn’t put weights in the back of mom’s car yet, so she had no weight on those tires at all.

I was fairly confident in the road ahead, but I couldn’t leave her, so I slowed a bit and watched her in my rear view mirror.  Mom’s car was fish-tailing like you wouldn’t believe.  She had absolutely no traction at all.  I was just thinking “Ha! My car is just fine!”

Once we got to the busy intersection at the end of the road, I could no longer hang back or I would affect other drivers, so I said to myself “Self do you what you need to do to get to school safe and sound.  Do not cause an accident by driving too slow.  Mom is an adult and can take care of herself.”  I did just that.  The light turned green and I took off.  I glanced back and mom was still at the intersection spinning her tires.  Hee-hee. Poor mom!  This wasn’t turning out how she thought it would.

I drove the rest of the way to school which wasn’t that far.  Mom followed the whole way with her car fish-tailing the whole way.  I pulled in the school parking lot, and mom pulled in to go out the other entrance to get turned around.  When I walked in school, several people walked up and asked me if my mom followed me to school.  I said yes, but my car was better and I don’t think she’ll do it again.  Most kids left at that because they all knew my mom and how protective she was.  I just had to endure teasing from a small lot which I could handle.  They were friends and I would certainly rib them a bit if they’re parents even thought to do the same.

After school, I headed home.  The roads were clear by then, and dad asked how it went.  We got home around the same time.  His eyes twinkled when I told him mom followed me to school.  He asked how that went.  I said, “I had no trouble, but mom fish-tailed the whole way.”  Dad was a little worried that he had forgotten to put weights in the back of mom’s car.

When she got home, we asked her how her morning drive was.  Her reply?  To dad, “You need to put weights in the back of my car.”  To me, “Don’t ever drive away from me again when I’m following you.  You were going too fast.”  I had already told dad of my speeds and that I traveled with traffic, so I knew I had backup if needed.  I just simply replied that I did not want to cause an accident by not traveling with traffic because I was waiting for you to catch up. I then dropped it.  Mom hadn’t thought of that.

After that whenever it snowed; my mom may have been concerned about me driving, but she never followed me again.  In fact, my mom would beg me to let her drive my car.  I think this did two things, she knew I wasn’t driving and she got a better car in snow.  The only drawback for her was I still wouldn’t ride the bus, so I said “Fine, but you have to take me to school and I’ll get my friends to drive me home.  Also, please don’t make me late because I don’t want to get into trouble.”  Mom agreed knowing that more than likely the roads would be fine for the drive home, but she was putting my life in my friends’ hands instead of mine.  It is a thought that has always occurred to me.

And so that’s how it went all winter.  It would snow and mom would steal my car.

I don’t want people to think that my mom and I fought all the time.  We didn’t and we probably weren’t even close most of the time.  This is a story that we laugh about now. 🙂  I think in general we picked our battles.  Most of the time I had no problem with respecting my elder’s decisions, but in certain instances like this one, I wasn’t giving in.  Riding the bus was like a death sentence to me.  I had put up with it for four years and I didn’t feel like I should have to deal with that any more because I had my own car.  Although at some point during the year, I did make “friends” with the people who previously picked on me.  Helping out their friends with class work helped with that. 🙂

The moral of my story is please parents who are worried about their children driving in inclement weather for the first time and there’s only 2 inches on the ground…relax and trust your kids.  Every time they drive, it is a learning experience and that is how we grow up.  As my dad said, a car can be fixed and just tell them to use their heads.  Please don’t follow them to school and embarrass them.  For some kids, that could cause a major uproar in their school life where you just try to fit in.

Saturdays

After my brother passed away (well even before then), my mother became extremely protective (an understatement).  This was the 70s back when parents who grew up in the 50s-60s still remembered what it was like to run around a small town without parental supervision as very young kids.  But times were different, Manson and Dahmer were well known serial killers plus Adam Walsh was kidnapped and killed in 1981.

So my mom was extremely protective.  Dad was protective too, but I think he remembered what it was like to have freedom as a kid to make decisions and learn what the consequences to those decisions would be.  When my parents moved into their second house (the first I remember), they put up a privacy fence.  This fence was funny because if the wind blew just right, sections would fall down.  When it was built they didn’t use treated lumber, so it just came right back down.  I think in the time that we lived there that my dad actually put up two fences.  The first fence was all at once and the second fence in sections as they fell down. 🙂

When I finally learned to ride my bike at five, my mom would only let me go to the end of the third house to the right and to the end of our neighbors to the left.  The reason I couldn’t go far to the left was our neighbors had a really tall hedge that my mom couldn’t see over.  If she couldn’t see me, then I couldn’t go there.

Btw, the guy in the third house really didn’t like us kids.  He hated kids riding in his yard.  I was ok because my father was the same way only he had a kid (and I told my friends to not ride in our grass), so the guy never had any ill will towards me because I wouldn’t ride in his yard or anyone else’s.  But I do remember my friends telling me that they got yelled at by him.

Once I was in elementary school and had friends in the neighborhood, this was a pain.  Nobody wants to play with you if you can’t go very far.  I mean what’s the fun in riding on the sidewalk between 5 houses?  Not much.

Around age nine, my reach extended to riding on the sidewalk to the end of our street.  This was about 3-4 houses more to the right.  I still couldn’t go past the hedge to the left.  This opened me up a tad and at least I could use my imagination to go further.  My friends still lived in another area of our neighborhood.

At age 11, I was allowed to ride in the street.  I still had the same reach, but now it was extended to the other side of the street.  I used to log a lot of hours just simply riding up and down the street looking for someone outside to play with.  The problem was that most of my friends could go further than I could and went to play on other streets.

Around this time, my mom started working some Saturdays.  It wasn’t all the time and she only worked a half day, but those were the greatest days of my life. 🙂  One would think that a child would miss their mom on that day, but my dad made things fun for me.  🙂  Dad was the more relaxed parent in case you can’t tell.

The first Saturday mom worked, my dad and I were eating breakfast when mom left.  Dad looked at me and asked if I could keep a secret.  I replied with yes thinking that he and I were going to go buy or build something for mom.  He told me that a half hour after mom left; I could go outside and ride my bike.  I said ok, but I was a little let down…I mean I do that all the time and I was kind of thinking that this was going to be special.

He continued and said that I could go anywhere in the neighborhood I wanted as long as I didn’t cross or go near the busy road that was the entrance to our neighborhood.  My jaw dropped at this!  I mean, I could go over to Eddie, Jesse, and Melissa’s house!  A miracle was happening right in our kitchen. 🙂

He finished with asking if I was wearing my watch.  Of course I had my Big Bird watch on and dad made sure that the battery was still functioning and that it was currently set to the correct time.  He told me that mom was due home around 12:30 pm and to be safe that needed to be back home by 11:30 am an hour before she was due home.  He asked if I could do this, and I said yes.

Dad finished with “It is real important that you are home by 11:30 am or we will both be in trouble.  You cannot tell your mother now or ever.  This has to be a secret because if she ever finds out, we will both be in more trouble that you know can happen.  Have fun and be safe!  I will be here if you need me.  You have to finish your breakfast first and then you can go.”

I think dad knew that I wouldn’t be back until 11:30 am, so he wanted me to be nice and full before heading out.  I snarfed down breakfast at a pace that was very unladylike.  I put my plate in the sink and ran to put on my tennis shoes.  With a “Thanks Dad”, I headed out on my adventure.

My first stop (and I would formally like to apologize to Jesse’s parents for showing up at 8 am on a Saturday) was Jesse’s house.  I rode as fast as I could to her house because I knew she’d be surprised to see me.  She knew I wasn’t allowed out of my area.  I knocked on the door and asked if she could come out to play.  I think her mom was shocked to see me and that shocked expression it wasn’t just the time of day I was there, but that I was there at all.  Her mom said something about Jesse watching cartoons and asked if I wanted to come in.  I told her that I would pass because I only had until 11:30 am to ride my bike around the neighborhood.  My mom didn’t talk to her much, so I figured I was pretty safe.  Plus I think most of the mom’s around the neighborhood were just happy to see me get some freedom.  They wouldn’t rat me out.

The next thing I knew as I was riding away I heard my name being called.  Jesse heard what I told her mom and went to get dressed and put her shoes on in record time.  After chatting about this new liberty I was given while riding, I asked if she wanted to ride over to Eddie’s house to see if he could play as well.

Jesse knew exactly where he lived and we headed over there.  Once again a mom was surprised to see me at her door and called Eddie to see if he wanted to play.  He did and so our group was now three.  We all three wanted Melissa to play as well, so over to her house we went.  Now going to Melissa’s house was interesting because she lived close to the road that I was not allowed to cross.  I was a tad nervous, but I knew we wouldn’t cross it and she wasn’t on the corner, so I went along.

Melissa being a really good friend, of course came out to play.  Her mom was the one I was most worried about because our mom’s talked more frequently.  I was asked about being over there, and I said that my dad said it was ok and that mom wasn’t home.  I asked her to not tell my mom or dad and I would be in trouble.  She smiled and said that she was very happy to see me and that she would keep our secret.  She told us all to be safe, smart, and to have fun.

We rode all over the neighborhood.  We had bike races and stopped to chat with various friends along the way.  We all wound up over at Eddie’s house playing some game outside.  Time flew by and the next thing I knew it was 11:00 am.  I told everyone that I wanted to ride some more before going home as I only had a half hour.  I thanked them all for being great friends and making my Saturday the best I had ever had.  Jesse and Melissa joined me on my final ride.  Melissa had to head home as well, and Jesse was getting hungry for lunch as she didn’t get any breakfast because of how early I was at her house.  So, we rode over there first.  Then I rode with Melissa to her house.  I circled back around and still had five minutes, so I went down a cul-de-sac behind our house before going home.  I was in the driveway right at 11:30 am.

I went inside to let dad know that I was home.  Dad told me that he was happy that I was home on time because mom got off a little early and was on her way. 🙂  He told me to remember it is a secret and to not tell her.  Plus he said that since I was responsible with my time and as long as mom doesn’t find out that I could do this again, the next time my mom worked on Saturday.  Dad then said that I should head out and ride my bike because that is what I would be doing normally on a Saturday morning.  I headed back outside to ride in my limited area.  It was way different riding there after having all that freedom.

I soon saw mom’s car come down the street.  So I did what I always did, I headed home to say hi.  Mom gave me a hug and asked if I had fun with dad this morning.  I told that I did and that he let me ride my bike all morning.  She simply assumed it was in the designated area.  😉  I never elaborated on it.  I was honest, I did ride my bike.  Dad said that same thing that I just rode my bike all morning.

I had a blast that morning and I thank my dad for allowing me to ride my bike around the neighborhood.  I remember asking mom week to week if she had to work on Saturday.  If she said yes, I said “Awww, that’s too bad.”  Inside I was excited as could be that mom had to work.  And so it went while we lived in that house.  If mom had to work on Saturday, I had freedom for a few hours.  I think dad planned to not have any errands on those Saturday mornings, so that I could have a little freedom.

I know that no one ratted dad and I out.  None of my friends or their parents said a word to my mom.  I know this because one evening when I was in my 30s and was home visiting, dad and I came clean.

We were at dinner and were reminiscing about the days gone by.  Without thinking first, I asked dad if he remembered those Saturdays when mom worked.  He said, “The ones where I let you ride around the neighborhood?”  I think both of us thought we would be in the clear at this point.  I was 30 for Pete’s sake.

Mom asked what we meant by that with a very wary voice.  We came clean and explained everything.  As we were detailing my exploits, mom’s eyes got darker and darker as she became madder and madder.  She turned and looked at dad and said “I can’t believe you let her do that.  She could have been kidnapped or worse.  How could you do that?” Dad and I said we were sorry for deceiving her, but I told her that I was happy that dad let me ride around the block and trusted me to be safe.

With that, mom was done with dinner and ready to leave.  In fact she walked out ahead of us.  We were upset that she was mad, but grinning from ear to ear that she never found out.  I figured one of the other mom’s would eventually say something offhandedly not remembering it was a secret.

Mom has never forgiven us for that and I doubt that she ever will.  She did say that she was happy that nothing happened to me and dropped the subject.  I am happy she knows though.  I think in today’s world that there are a lot of parents who are just like my mom which is why I am telling this story.  Should they be?  I don’t know, but I think the media adds a lot to perceptions about today’s world; just like the media did back in 1981 when Adam Walsh was kidnapped.

So, for those very protective parents, I suggest (unless you truly live in a bad neighborhood…we didn’t) that you let your kids have a few hours to ride around the block.  If they are responsible, let them do it every now and then.  It teaches them responsibility and gives them a feeling of independence plus it is a way to show your kids that you trust them.  If they don’t follow the rules, don’t let them do it again for awhile.  This will help teach them that there are consequences to their actions.

I know I will always cherish those days and I remember them fondly. 🙂  Thanks Dad!

Morning Sanctuary

As I posted previously, every year my family would make the drive down to Tennessee to visit with family. For most of the trip, we stayed at my great aunts house that had at least a window air conditioner in the kitchen. Since we always went to visit at the beginning of August, it was always hot and sticky down there and the window air conditioner gave a tad bit of relief from the heat. I am also a lover of animals as you may have figured out by now and would do anything for my own pets.

My great aunt (Nanny) and great uncle (Papaw) had a dog and a whole lot of cats living on her farm. The cats on the farm were all strays that somehow found their way to Nanny and Papaw’s house. They had a building that Papaw cut a corner off of a door, so that the cats could get in and be safe from any wild dogs running around. Nanny put a plate of food and a bowl of water in the building for the cats to eat something if they needed to. Every day Nanny went out to put out fresh food and water for the cats, and when we visited; I got the job along with gathering eggs and feeding the chickens.

Nanny always named every single cat that came to live on their farm; no matter how long it stayed. Sometimes, the cats stayed for just a couple of days and sometimes they stayed for years, but they always had a name and she knew them on sight. Sometimes they would leave and return a month or two later, but she always knew which cat was which.

One cat that stayed for years was named Tom-Tom. He was a beautiful yellow and white cat, but could be really mean. Tom defended his territory and was good at it. Tom wasn’t the type of cat that you just reach down and pet. Doing that would get your hand swiped at, and he had sharp claws. 🙂 He was always around, but resisted petting. He’d even take swipes at Nanny and Papaw. Papaw would just tell him “To git on out of here”.

I mentioned a dog, and while I don’t know how they came to have Bo-Bo, I know that they had him for many years. I believe Bo-Bo was a large shepherd dog. Not German though.

Bo-Bo was kid friendly and would protect any kids to the best of his ability. When I was outside, Bo-Bo was right there. If I stood still, Bo-Bo would sit in front of me. Of course to get there, when he sat down he’d knock into you and just about put you on the ground if you weren’t ready for it. I remember going to Nanny’s and being excited to get out of the car because Bo-Bo was right there to greet you. Basically, the whole time I was at Nanny’s, I had a shadow. 🙂 I miss Bo-Bo.

At Nanny’s there weren’t any air conditioners in the bedrooms, so you slept with the windows open. During the night, the fog would settle between the mountains and cool it off outside. Every morning the sun was up in the sky way too early for summer vacation. Of course as soon as the sun would come up, the rooster would start crowing. The rooster woke me up everyday. I have no idea how mom could sleep through it.

One summer when we were there, I would actually get up when the rooster crowed. My dad was already up and chatting with Nanny and Papaw and mom was still snoozing. I can’t remember how old I was (probably 10-12 if I had to guess), but I did this for a few years until first Bo-Bo and then Tom-Tom died. I asked my dad if I could go outside knowing that he was very likely to allow me to do so. He always said I could. He probably thought I was playing in the yard, but I couldn’t do that or I would risk the wrath of my mother who liked her sleep.

The first time, I did this; I had no destination in mind, but just kind of wandered out into the field. I had two companions: Bo-Bo and Tom-Tom. They simply joined me. Bo-Bo was in the lead and Tom-Tom was following me. We walked out to the edge of the property where you could see the other mountain and I realized that the fog was still in the valley. I sat down in the tall grass to watch the fog rise.

Bo-Bo was lying right behind me, so that I could lean on him and pet his head. In his older years, I didn’t lean, but simply petted. Tom-Tom the first couple of days simply laid next to me. I would chat with the two of them asking questions like what was their plan for the day and just talking in soothing tones. On the third day, Tom-Tom crawled into my lap and took a snooze. This was so out of character for him, but I figured he needed the sleep and felt safe in my arms. It was probably one of the few times that he didn’t feel the need to be on alert. I could pet him to my heart’s content during this time. He even let me rub his belly which was a sign of full trust.

We would sit in our morning sanctuary and watch the fog rise out of the valley. It was very peaceful out where we were. The only sounds we heard were the sound of the land. There were no people around, and if anyone had come close to where we were, I knew that Bo-Bo would let me know. The fog would slowly rise leaving behind the beautiful trees and farmland that was just waking up when the sun finally made it through the thick fog.

Once it fully lifted, I would tell my companions that our time was up and that we should check back in. Tom-Tom would rise up and stretch and get off my lap. Bo-Bo would yawn a sleepy yawn that said lets stay a little longer. We would start our trip back to the house. Once we got close, I would ask if they wanted to race. They would happily agree. Tom-Tom always won, and I came in second. Bo-Bo was always more interested in staying back with me than in winning the race. As soon as we were back at the house, I had to be careful to not overstep my bounds with Tom-Tom. Once Nanny caught me petting him and said “You better be careful! That cat will bite you!” Tom-Tom and I just looked at each other and I swear his eyes twinkled at me like we have a secret.

I enjoyed my peaceful mornings with Bo-Bo and Tom-Tom. I like to believe that they remembered me from year to year because the following year I did the same thing and had the same companions. Tom-Tom never hesitated after that to crawl in my lap and Bo-Bo always came along. In his older years, Bo-Bo was stiff in the mornings and our walk took more time, but he always came on his own. It was always his choice as I never said “Come on! Let’s go for a walk.” I think that is what made it so special. We were three beings who wanted to be together.

Now my dad knows where I went on those mornings. 🙂 And even more importantly mom knows that I was out in the field alone with two protectors. Dad will be in trouble…sorry dad. 🙂 I bet you don’t even remember those mornings. And to mom…you know Bo-Bo would have protected me with his life and plus out there…nothing can happen to you! 😉

I Grew Up an Only Child

Whenever meeting new people in a social situation, a certain question always gets asked: “Do you have any siblings?”  My answer is always “I grew up an only Child.”  Smart people will catch that I didn’t actually answer the question, and will ask a follow up question like “What does that mean?”

The reason I answer the way I do is avoidance, so I don’t have to deal with any lag in the conversation.  Most people won’t catch that I didn’t answer the actual question, therefore no lag.  You see I do have a brother, but he died right after I turned five and he was two and a half.  Therefore when I say I grew up an only child, it’s true…I did.

It is simply an easier answer than saying “Yes, but my brother passed away when I was five.”  That answer will only lead to surprising the person out of their socks and put them in a position where they don’t really know how to proceed.

I’m not sure why people are so uncomfortable when you don’t sugar coat something like this, but I guess it’s a difficult topic for most because they remember someone close to them who has passed away.  This probably makes them sad, and when meeting someone new, you usually like to have your best foot forward; not your saddest foot.

My brother was sick from the time he was born until he passed away, but let me tell you my parents were awesome.  I don’t remember ever thinking he was really sick or any resentment towards him because he was so sick.  I just remember I liked having a brother.  Personally, I feel lucky that I remember him at all.  I’ve heard that most kids don’t remember much until they are five, so I am very lucky indeed.

My parents took very good care of my brother, so much so that my mom told me later on when I was an adult that the doctors were surprised at how long he lived.  My parents made a lot of trips to the hospital with him during his short two and a half years.  They made a lot of sacrifices for him, but he received the best care that could be provided.

I only have a few memories of my brother.  Only one involves a hospital and that was the day he passed away.  Most of the time while my parents went to the hospital, I went to my Grandma and Grandpa’s house to be spoiled. 🙂

Other memories are silly like getting his leftover baby food jars when mom finished feeding him.  I used to stick my little fingers in the jar and get every last scrap of baby food out of it.

But by far, my best and favorite memory of my brother is an example of how much my parents tried to keep things as normal as possible for me.  They found a way for me to play with my brother.  🙂

Our house had an L-shaped hallway that started in the living room and ended in a bedroom.  It wasn’t a long distance, but when you are under five, it seems like a long way.  My mom would sit in the living room and dad in the bedroom.  Then Mom would put my brother into a stroller and strap him in.  After she double-checked to make sure he was ok, I was off.  I would stroll him from one parent to the other.  One of them could always see him, and I knew better than to run or be careless with him.  I had to stop at each end, so that my parents could ensure that he was ok.  Then I would turn around and go the other direction.  I have no idea how much time I spent strolling him and I am sure it was probably shorter than I remember.

It may seem like such a small thing to remember and not a fun activity, but I loved it!  I felt like I was taking care of him as well and I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for that memory.

Here’s some advice for everyone…When you meet someone that lost a sibling at an early age and they remember their sibling, try saying “I’m sorry that you lost your brother/sister, but I am happy that you got to know them and that you have memories to remember them by.”  Hopefully, this will help you get past the lag in conversation that might occur. 🙂

Transferred Aggression (feline)

As you may have gathered from previous posts, I used to have two cats: Skippy and Mason.  I still have Skip and my parents have Mason.  So, what happened?  Why is Mason living with my parents?  Well, it all started 11 years ago…

I had two cats: Missy and Socks.  Missy had to be put to sleep due to cancer and I was left with Socks who was fairly young.  Socks was always a very independent and mean cat, but hey she lived with a part Siamese cat which gives her an excuse.  I loved having two cats.  It gives them someone to play with while I work and usually one of them will want to spend time with me when I get home.

While at my parents’ house, I found an ad for free kittens, so dad drove me out to see them.  I fell in love with the only male kitten left.  He was so cute sitting on the ottoman with hiccups that shook his whole body.  The lady said that the kittens were 4 weeks old, but that they were all weaned and used the litter box.  When I saw a half-brother I saw why…he was huge!  This is how I found Skip.

I took both Socks and Skip home and did the introduce-the-new-kitten routine to Socks.  Everything was going great or so I thought.  One day Socks was headed upstairs and Skip started to follow her.  I was getting ready to head up and grab him; since it seemed a little early to allow them together without me.  The next thing I knew, Socks whipped around so fast and had Skip down.  Skip went immediately into a submissive position, but she started ripping his fur out anyway.  I was up the stairs in a flash to break it up.  Skip is still missing fur from that encounter.

After that happened, there was a no go on the introductions.  I tried splitting them apart for a few months alternating who was in a room and who wasn’t.  I gave Socks attention first, but she was having nothing of Skip.

I had a decision to make…do I find a new home for Skip or for Socks.  Socks was the cat that I had, but wasn’t really close to.  Plus she hated my parents and all of their animals.  Skip was the new kitten that was going to have a lot of vet bills due to the neutering and shots etc.  I chose Skip because I really wanted a multiple cat household.  I told Socks she had a home until the right people that I felt would take wonderful care of her came around.  I put an ad in the paper and a really nice lady whose cat just past away answered the ad.  She didn’t want a kitten due to all the vet costs.  I was honest and said Socks wants to be the only cat.  She said that she would take her.  I received a Christmas card each year from her for many years with a picture of Socks.

Now I was left to find another kitten.  While home visiting my parents, my mom and I went to Petsmart.  While there, I did what one who loves cats shouldn’t do…I looked at the kittens. There was one sitting at the front of the cage staring at us.  When we looked at him, he mewed.  It was a mew that said, “Please take me home, I’ll be forever grateful.”  He looked orange and that matched Skip, so I asked to hold him.  As soon as I held him, I knew he was the one.  He started cuddling, purring and held on to say he wasn’t going to be put back.  He was only one month younger than Skip which was perfect.   This was Mason who was actually a yellow kitten after a bath. Yes, he was that dirty.  I guess the kittens were found in a garbage bag on the side of the road in a puddle of oil.  At least, that’s what we were told.

I took both boys home and they were like true brothers.  They ate, slept and yes, they used the litter box together.  I have photo proof because I had never seen it before.  If one was on me, so was the other.  My mom got a kitten shortly afterwards named Oreo.  When I went back to visit, the three boys were inseparable.  Oreo loved Mason.  As soon as the cage was opened (both my boys shared a big cage), Oreo would wrap one arm around Mason and walk on three legs with Mason.  It was so cute.  All three boys had a blast knocking over mom’s fake tree and just playing like kittens do.

All was well for about 3 years.  Our house was very happy and the boys were inseparable.  Then it happened.  At first I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew things had changed.  New neighbors moved in and with them, two friendly orange tabby’s.  This made all the difference because for some reason these two cats loved my patio.

I came home from work one day and I only saw Mason.  There was no Skippy.  This was very, very unusual.  Skip always greeted me.  I went looking expecting to find out my worst fear.  Mason followed.  At the time, I did not know what was up, so I had no problem with his following me.  I found Skip in the laundry room (where the litter box is) on top of the dryer in a trance.  His eyes were highly dilated and he looked and smelled horrible.  He was extremely afraid of something.

As soon as he saw Mason, Skip freaked and Mason went to attack.  I took on Mason and got him locked in another room.  Then I had to calm Skip down in order to move him and clean up the mess.  Nothing was working, so I got out the big cage and grabbed a big towel to protect myself.  I threw the towel over Skip and swooped him up and into the cage.  After shutting the cage, I surveyed the damage.  Urine was everywhere.  Skip was so scared that he wet himself as he was fleeing, and then he was too scared to get off the dryer to go potty.  This is the only time he has not used the litter box.

I checked and there was a trail of urine from where the attack started to where it ended on the dryer.  I imagine Skip could probably protect himself up there.  Mason wasn’t a great jumper and Skip was bigger, so he could probably have kept Mason from getting up there.  I went into cleanup mode which was a huge task.  I must have done an awesome job because you’d never know that there was once urine on the carpet…in other words there is no residual smell.

Now I had to clean up Skip.  Mason was still locked up, so I checked Skip to see if he was amendable to being touched yet.  He was, so I promptly gave him a bath.  For the record, he does not mind water, so this isn’t as bad as you might think.  I think he was happy to be clean because when I say he was a mess…I mean he was a MESS!

Everything was cleaned up.  A second litter box and food bowls were set up in the bedroom.  Skip was placed in there to shorten his world and make him feel safe.  I let Mason out who investigated everything.  He seemed fine.  I still had no idea what happened to the perfect world my boys lived in.  I thought about it all night and the next day all while keeping the boys separated.

I decided I needed to reintroduce them to each other because something major happened.  So, I started the switching of who was locked up.  During the switch, nobody was allowed to see anybody else.  I put a ribbon under the door, so they could play with each other.  The one locked up always cried horribly.

After a couple of weeks, I let them under strict supervision to see each other.  All was fine, but I didn’t push it and slowly increased their time together.  Since I didn’t know the trigger, I didn’t want to just let them alone, but it was tough to keep an eye on them constantly.  For example, to go to the bathroom, one had to come with me.  Since Skip wouldn’t let me out of his sight, it was Skip.

Finally, one Saturday a couple of months later we were spending the day out.  They were lying down together and then it happened.  Everything fell back apart and I finally knew the cause, but I didn’t know why.  The neighbors’ illegal outside cats (against HOA rules) came to visit.  Mason threw a fit!  He attacked Skip who got scared and went running with Mason in chase and me following to break it up.  I knew I had to stop it fast.  I got Mason in a room and Skip was terrified again, but I got a hold of him safely and put him in his safe room.

Now what do I do?  I was perplexed, so I called my awesome vet to ask.  The vet and I were pretty good friends after Missy.  He knew I took good care of my cats and that what I was saying was not blown out of proportion, but what really happened.  He said the term “Transferred Aggression”.  I asked what it meant and what do I do for it.

Basically, Transferred Aggression is where one cat sees another cat that they cannot access, so they attack the next nearest cat.  In my house, Mason saw the outside cat, but couldn’t attack it, so he instead attacked Skip.  Skip has residual issues from the attack of Socks when he was sooooo young that it really affected him.

The vet said to reintroduce them to each other and block off sight to the outside cat.  I went out and bought some poster board and taped it up on the patio doors.  My hope was that this would discourage the outside cats from visiting.  I never acknowledged them out there, but I think they knew Skip and Mason had a good life.

I just lost two months of hard work to get these two back together.  Now I get to start over.  I started from the beginning again.  It is hard work each night to give each one the amount of attention that they want when you are doing this by yourself.  During the weekday I was at work, so I could split my evenings by spending time with the cat I wasn’t sleeping with and then the nighttime with the one I was. Weekends were really tough because the one locked up knew I was there and cried for Mommy to let them out.

Slowly, I tried to get them back together, but to no avail.  The vet then gave me some spray to put on each cat which was to calm them down.  I tried that for a month and Skip was having nothing to do with Mason.  Outside, I started spraying some stuff down to try and discourage the neighbors’ cats from visiting.  It just went away after a rain and they came back.  I tried saying something to the neighbors about cats outside and how they were bothering my inside cats.  I got the answer of “What do you want us to do?  Put them on a leash?”  Well, you know it is a busy neighborhood with a lot of cars around; maybe they would be better off inside.  These were country folk who believe cats belong outside which is fine in the country, but in the city chances are they will get hit by a car.  There was no reasoning with them.

That backfired and now my neighbors thought I was nuts.  I probably looked it considering I was at my wits end with how to get these two back together.  After eight months, I finally gave up.  I had to make a decision because for me, I could not live this way any longer.  I had tried and failed.  Skip was too hurt by Mason’s actions to try again and chances are it would have happened again because short of moving I couldn’t get the outside cats to stay away.  My two babies were in a pattern and Skip was too much of a lover to fight back.  What’s funny about it is, Skip has the size advantage and could have taken Mason, but at the time he wouldn’t protect himself.  It was probably because I protected him too much with Socks after she attacked him.

After spending some time crying and holding Mason, I made the tearful call to my mom to let her know my decision.  I knew mom and dad adored both boys, and would be upset.  I told her that I was choosing to find Mason a new home.  Don’t get me wrong, Mason is an awesome cat, but I thought he would deal better in a new environment than Skip would.  Skip was too messed up to have to move to a new house.  Mom didn’t hesitate a bit when she said “We’ll take him.”  She told me that Oreo loved having Mason around and with their other cat Mechant getting up in years, it would give Oreo someone to grow old with.  Plus I would get to see Mason when I visited.

I feeling of relief came over me.  I would still get to see Mason!  Mason didn’t have to adjust to a new environment because he was used to going there anyway.  Cranky Mechant (everyone gets cranky when they get older) even liked Mason because he was always warm to lie against.  Mason became dad’s cat.  He already had Mechant (she was first mom’s cat), but the three worked on positioning so that all were happy.

To this day, Mason loves his daddy.  The only negative thing that happened was my poor father could no longer eat cereal at a table.  Mason loves cereal and wants you to share.  I used to flick out Cheerios to him, but forgot to tell dad.  Dad started eating the cereal standing up, but Mason just wrapped around him and begged for some cereal.  Finally, dad just gave up cereal as it wasn’t worth it.

As for Skip, the first few visits to mom and dad’s were tenuous.  Skip wasn’t alpha there, so he took it and just played with Oreo, but stayed away from Mason.  When mom and dad visited me, we split them up when we weren’t there.  After eight years, both Skip and Mason can be trusted around each other without incident.  They still aren’t the best friends that they were and at this point will never be.  Skip tolerates Mason and Mason knows it’s Skip’s house now.

Unfortunately for me, I no longer have the two cats I wanted and with Skip, I will never have multiple cats.  So, I just replaced Mason with Boyfriend.  Boyfriend isn’t nearly as talkative as Mason, but I’m OK with that!  😉

Three Cats and Leftover Chicken

We had the pleasure of watching my furry brothers (cats) for a week while my parents were on vacation.  My mom won’t entrust their care to anyone else, but myself and boyfriend.  She knows that we will take care of them just as she would.

One of my brothers is named Oreo, and is by far the biggest trouble maker of the bunch.  Oreo loves to come and visit his sister because we have special food (canned) twice a day and we pull out the catnip.  Plus he gets a different view of the outside world and gets to destroy…oops I mean be curious in a new house.

Oreo can jump like no other cat I have seen before; from a sitting position or while running.  Oreo is fast!  He loves to play and he will play with anything…string, ball, feather, hair scrunchies, your hand, anyone else’s tail, and well his own tail too.  I think you get the point.  He loves to play.

My other brother is Mason and is the complete opposite of Oreo.  Mason would rather lay on you than play.  Mason second favorite thing to do is eat.  Even though Skip is the oldest (by 2 months on the youngest) and the largest of the boys, Mason weighs the most. Mason is part Ragdoll, so when you pick him up; you can feel how much an 18 pound cat really does weigh because Mason goes completely limp.

Mason is a talker.  If you talk to him, he answers back.  It at least gives you the feeling that he is listening to you.  Mason loves to be touched and prefers both hands to be used.  Boyfriend likes having Mason visit because he has a buddy for the week.  If Boyfriend sits, Mason is there.  Mason is also odd in that he prefers to be covered most of the time.  Once Boyfriend finally gets Mason to lie down next to him and then puts covers over most of Mason.

For the sake of Mason, it is better that Boyfriend be the primary holder.  Skip is very jealous of Mason, so Mommy has to be careful with how much I pet or hold Mason.  Mason used to be my son and since I live in Kentucky it’s ok that he’s now my brother. 😉  Back when Mason lived with me, we had some transferred aggression occur where Mason was the aggressor and Skip was the victim.  Skip has never forgotten and therefore could do without Mason.

But, the boys all get along well enough with Oreo being the glue that holds them together.  Skip will play with Oreo and Oreo will…hmmm…try to play with Mason?  Mason will just go and find the humans to lie on which leaves Oreo and Skip to play.  This is a huge treat for Skip and why he deals with Mason.

The boys immediately got catnip once my parents left the house after dropping the boys off.  This kind of sets the stage for a week without their parents.  PARTY TIME FOR THE KITTIES!!  Given that all 3 boys are 11 years old, they all promptly sacked out after the catnip.  Mason was of course near Boyfriend.

The week goes by and nothing really major happens other than Oreo acting out when he wasn’t allowed canned food due to his nervous stomach.  He just can’t handle it twice a day.  Oh, and by acting out, I mean knocking things over or off of a table.  He does that when he’s mad and our house has not been Oreo proofed.  My brother is a big brat…see I admit it, but of course my mom won’t. 😉  Parents never listen to the child that sees the truth. 🙂

The night before mom and dad are to come back through and pick up their kids, boyfriend had to work late.  He called me and said that he was almost on his way home which take 45 minutes on a good day.  So, I went through the cabinets and decided on a junk food night.  I could have chosen the leftover KFC, but I looked around me and there were 3 cats.  Umm…No, I’m not going there.

Well, boyfriend comes home and asks what I had to see if there were any leftovers.  I said, nope, I went the junk food route.  He went into the kitchen and started to scrounge for food as well, and he came across the leftover KFC.  Boyfriend politely asked if I had plans for it, and I said no, it’s all yours.  I was all smiles.  [Please insert an evil sounding laugh in your head here.]

Boyfriend grabs the chicken and coleslaw and heads to the couch followed by Oreo and Mason.  Skip was lagging a bit (not that he’s allowed any table food which might account for the lag).  Boyfriend sets his coleslaw down on the table and pops open the container with the chicken.

Here was his first mistake; he looked away for a second to answer a question I asked. Did I ask purposely, is the question?  The answer is that I really wanted to know if he wanted to watch Big Brother.  Well, in the split second he turned away, Oreo hit from behind the couch and was up on the table in a flash.

Boyfriend exclaims in a deep primitive voice, “Get away from my coleslaw.” Coleslaw from KFC is Boyfriends favorite. He then proceeds to knock Oreo off the table.  Oreo in a flash is in the front of the couch attacking.  Mason decides on the high route of the back of the couch at the same time.  Boyfriend was literally waving both arms…one in front and one behind to hold off the attack.

Me you ask?  I’m laughing my a** off.  Oreo not to be defeated runs back around to the back of the couch while Mason tries again from the back of the couch.  Oreo jumps towards the table and boyfriend gets him in mid air with the back of hand while exclaiming, “Back off, it’s my chicken.”  Boyfriend has yet to eat a bite.  I’m telling you people, it…was…funny!

So, I see Oreo heading around my side of the couch and feeling sorry for boyfriend; I snatch up Oreo and proceed to hold him.  Boyfriend with a sigh of “Thanks” starts to take a bite with Mason’s head right next to his.  Mason figured that you just never know…Boyfriend might miss his mouth and instead feed Mason.  Boyfriend waves his arm in the air to get Mason Back.

Cue the Skip-ster.  Skippy seeing that Oreo was subdued and Mason was losing the fight, decided to help out.  Skip took the couch seat route, and in laying claim that it’s his Papa proceeds to place to paws on boyfriend leg leaning in to see if he can have some.  Boyfriend is handling these two quite well, and Oreo can’t have that.  In a quick move, he gets away from me.

Ok I admit it; I wasn’t holding him very well.  I want him to remember the fun and not the bad times, so I couldn’t be mean.  I know…Poor Boyfriend.  Oreo taking the floor route heads right into the fray.  Boyfriend is growling like I imagine a bear would when defending his food, but is actually getting food into his mouth.  The boys backed down a level.

Picture if you will, boyfriend leaned over his chicken container with elbows out to prevent an unwanted helper with Oreo sitting on several books on the floor, but right where he can grab if needed, Skip standing with two paws on boyfriends legs leaning in to see if Papa will share, and Mason sitting on the back of the couch hoping for a piece to make its way up there.

Thank the heavens boyfriend didn’t actually share or pandemonium would have erupted.  Our rule in our house (before Skip’s food allergies) were if you don’t push, but sit politely we will share.  If you push, we don’t share.  It’s our way of teaching manners to the cats.

I sent my parents a text message with a picture of Boyfriend trying to eat KFC chicken with three cats.   Mom said that dad couldn’t stop laughing.  And dad’s reply was, “Our boys like chicken!”

And that my friend is the story of Boyfriend trying to eat chicken with 3 cats in the house.  For the record, Boyfriend did indeed finish his chicken and as soon as he got to the coleslaw, the boys slowly left as they realized that chicken was not in the cards for them this night.

Leaving the Nest

This is a story about me, my mom, and a doctor that my mom worked with. I apologize for not referencing the story that the doctor tells. I honestly do not know where he got the story/analogy from, but if you know the story and who should be referenced; let me know.

Way back when computers were really becoming a common household item, I graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in Computer Technology. I had been interviewing like crazy trying to find a job. It was difficult, but luckily it was very popular for companies to hire employees straight out of college. This was a time period that when someone got a job, they traditionally stuck with the employer until they retired. This practice has changed over the years and more and more people leave companies for “a better job/company”.

I was at home watching my dad iron his clothes in the kitchen and just chatting with him. At that time, there was no TV in the kitchen. I know it was a radical time. 🙂 I still lived at home, but was anxious to find a job. The phone rang and it was the recruiter from Great American life Insurance Company (GALIC) in Cincinnati, OH calling to offer me a junior developer position in the company.

I was ecstatic. I took down the information regarding the job, benefits, and his contact information. I told him that I would call back with in the hour with an answer, but that I wanted to think about it. Basically, that was all front…I just wanted to talk to my dad about the offer.

After talking it over, I decided to take the job. There really wasn’t much question about it; I was just confirming with dad that he felt it was a fair offer as well. Dad had way more experience than a green kid out of college and I knew that. I didn’t want the recruiter to know that’s what I was doing because I wanted to show that I was self-sufficient. So, I called the recruiter back and said that I was going to accept the offer. I received the information as to when my first day would be and where to go.

Once I got off the phone, dad says, “Don’t you think you should call your mom?” Excitedly, I called mom and gave her my awesome news that “I got a JOB!!!!” All I heard was silence on the other end. She finally asked where and how much I’d be making, but was very sad. I told her all the details ignoring the sadness I heard. We hung up and dad took me out to lunch to celebrate. Dads are great about things like that. He was just as sad as mom, but knew how much it meant to me. So he masked his pain to let me enjoy my moment.

I heard this part of the story later on from mom once she knew I was fine in Cincinnati. After mom hung up with me, she broke down crying because I was moving 3 hours away. I grew up an only child, so I was very close with both of my parents. Unfortunately, where I grew up, there just weren’t a lot of jobs at that time in the computer technology field. This was before the tech boom occurred.

Everyone tried to comfort her, but it wasn’t working. They were saying that I would be OK and she’ll come back to visit. All of the standard “make you feel good comments” were doing nothing for mom. Finally, a doctor in the practice came over and gave her a hug and started to tell a story out loud to everyone. He said:

There is this mommy bird and she has 2 little baby birds. She
nurtured the baby birds from the time they were an egg by
protecting the egg from predators and the elements to the time
they were getting ready to leave the nest. The mommy bird loved
her two baby birds with all her heart.

The day finally came where the baby birds were ready to leave
the nest. The mommy bird was very sad, but knew that it was time.
The first baby bird hopped out to a clear place on the limb,
tested her wings a bit, and jumped spreading her wings. The baby
bird flew back up past the mommy bird to show that she could fly
and soared off out of sight. The mommy bird was extremely happy
that her baby bird flew.

Next came her other baby bird who like the first baby hopped out
onto a clear spot on the limb. The little baby bird also checked
her wings, and jumped off the limb and seconds later went SPLAT
onto the ground below.

The doctor then pulled my mom away and asked, “Now do you have a flier? Or is your baby bird going to go SPLAT?” Mom replied that her baby bird was going to soar above everyone else. The doctor then asked “Why are you so sad then when you know that this is the first step to you baby bird soaring. You should be happy for her because you know you have a good egg and a good flier.”

Mom wiped her tears from her eyes and said, “I know you’re right. I have a flier and I should be happy for her.” Mom then went into a patient room with a little baby. As she was working up the physical on the little baby, she said, “You’re never going to leave your mommy for some job, are you?” The doctor she actually worked for started laughing and explained to the patients’ mom what was going on. The patients’ mom immediately gave my mom a hug and told her she understood.

When mom came home, she gave me a hug and told me she was proud of me. Then she suggested that we go out to dinner to celebrate and plan my move to family members’ house that lived in the area. Moms are great too!

So, to all you parents who are letting your kids grow up one way or another…Do you have a Flier or one that will go SPLAT?