Beggar 8/27

   This is what it's like to eat dinner at my house. Kismet often makes it feel like Gypsy is still here. :)

AU catch up: Mirrors & Metal

   Check one of the coolest pieces of artwork I've donated for sure: a wooden mirror frame with my logo in it; the annual Machine Head art work day; and the main event itself!

Annual Machine Head Day

   Today Dick once again opened his fantastic metal shop up to the motley crew of volunteers to make cat & dog artwork for the annual Art Unleashed auction. As you can see, Dick, Robert, Jana, Connie, Randy, Jason, Amber, Ricky, Matt, Jared—even Aki, Taylor & their new pal Lambert!—and I, had a blast.
   We made about 40-50 pieces of metal art for donation, and this year we got extra creative. Our best collection yet! Sincere thanks to Dick Jobe for his generosity!

"You're not thinking of putting US to WORK, are you?!"

Lutes family photo

Connie & her adorable grandson

Whoa. Ricky is TALL. And I am SHORT.

Dick & Matt get down to business

Cutting begins

A tribute to my dear Gypsy

Ricky prepares the rods for garden stakes

Sandblasting

Amber's in the grind

Artwork, and the dog who inspired it

The all-important lunch order: Jimmy John's this year

Artwork piling up

Tons of yard art

Artwork almost taller than me!

Frame me up

Sitting down on the job

Look at us—we're ART!

Friendship & Photographs

   My friend Rick is amazing. Not only is he super knowledgeable and talented, but he's equally generous and thoughtful. He took me on a great hike on my first day in Portland last November, and loaned me a fantastic hiking guide for the Columbia Gorge (which totally got rain-soaked despite my best efforts, and he wasn't even upset!). Since Rick & his wife have a dear dog with kidney disease, he knew all too well what I was going through these past few months, when I quickly lost both kitties.
   Rick recently surprised me by sending me a few prints of one of my favorite Gypsy photos, on several different high-quality papers. Each has subtle differences in value, color, and texture and I can't even pick a favorite. Rick joked that I could wallpaper the house with them, and I just might.
   What a sweet, thoughtful gift… sure to be as treasured as the creature who inspired them. THANKS, RICK!!!
   Rick is a keen observer of nature, an incredible photographer, and relishes life—which all comes through in his work. I hope you'll check it out. Great stuff.

images © Copyright Rick Stare

Visitor

   Mitty Moo, the neighbor cat, came around this evening & sat at my front door, crying out for his buddy Gypsy. He apparently doesn't realize she's not here to whisper sweet nothings to him anymore. He has always made me do a double-take because he looks so much like Atom, too... Double sadness for me.
   There are so many things I miss about having a kitty in the house... and the full impact of it has been hitting me the last two weeks. I miss having them run up and greet me at the door when I get home from work. I miss them snuggling up to me on the couch or in bed, purring like a motor. I miss them sitting on the toilet and waiting patiently for me to get out of the shower, so I can pay attention to them again. I miss Gyp yelling at me every time I whistled. She HATED it when I whistled—would come running from anywhere in the house and find me and demand that I stopped. I used to whistle the "I Dream of Jeanie" (or, more accurately, "I Dream of Gyppy") song when I wanted to get her attention. I miss seeing them rolling around on the deck in the sunshine.
   People often don't give cats enough credit for their companionship and unique personalities. Or maybe mine were uncommonly special. Maybe both.  :)

Gypsy: 4/1/97 - 4/30/12

   I always thought I was a dog person—I never intended to get a cat. But Gypsy found me fifteen years ago and changed my mind in an instant—and changed my life for the better.

I said goodbye to her this evening. Words can't describe how much she will be missed. 

Good-bye, dear friend… Until we meet again.

   Gypsy has only been gone a few hours, but I'm already struck by how quiet the house seems (despite the noisy Shibas). My life hasn't been without a kitty since Gyp entered the picture... I've become so accustomed to having her purring next to me, to her stealing my dinner, to seeing cat hair blowing around. It hardly seems possible that she's gone, and yet at the same time, it's so painfully obvious. 

   I've shared my life with so many animals over the years, and all are very special to me, but Gypsy has always been the most special. From the second I laid eyes on her, I knew she belonged with me.

  The last 24 hours have been difficult and surreal; she has been very affectionate, sitting near me and purring. She has eaten a few treats from my hand. There were signs of hope. But she was also wobblier in her walk, she had begun to resist her fluid treatments, and last night I realized she was going blind. I would have given absolutely anything to make her better, but we had already exhausted every option. I couldn't bear to let her go too soon, before her time; nor could I bear to see her suffer. I had asked her to me know when she was ready, and she did. I had to honor that.

   In one sense it's a relief because I've been grieving for Atom, then her, these last seven months. I'm exhausted and sad. But I'd gladly keep fighting for her if it had been an option. I believe she knew that.

   I'm grateful that Gypsy had a pretty good weekend. We spent lots of time together, and she spent some time outside on the deck, soaking up the sunshine today, listening to the birds, and feeling the wind on her whiskers.

   I'm grateful that everyone at my vet's office, from my vet to the techs, to the receptionists, has been so kind and caring through Atom & Gypsy's passing. When I took her in this afternoon, they were waiting with open arms and hugs and words of comfort.

   I'm grateful that Gypsy passed away so quietly and peacefully.

   I'm grateful that Kelly was kind enough to drive me to the vet, and Madeline brought dinner for me; Mary Ann, Allyson, Michele, Joni, and Sawako offered kind words and help too—I had more offers of support than I could accept. It feels so good to be around those who have been there, and who understand this pain I'm feeling, and who care about me, and Gypsy. The emails and texts from everyone mean so much.

   It will take me forever and a day to get over losing her, but as she was leaving me, I asked her to come find me again when she's ready. I've already been immeasurably blessed for being with her once, and I believe we will meet again.

Old habits die hard

   I've hardly eaten a meal at home, undisturbed, in 15 years. And although Gyp hasn't eaten for days, she still moves in, puts her paws up on my leg and sticks her face an inch from mine.
She's the reason my dogs don't get table scraps--I learned my lesson long ago, after creating this monster! She often used to jump on my lap and wave her paw wildly, trying to knock the food off my fork as it neared my mouth.

What a good, bad kitty!

Gyppy Time

    Gypsy had several good days last week, and ate a little food Tuesday through Friday. On Saturday and Sunday, though, she started vomiting, and went off food again. She's not in pain, and still loves getting fluids, but I can tell she is having trouble getting comfortable. These days she usually doesn't want to sit on me, but still snuggles up next to me. It's comforting to feel her warm body up against me, and the low, steady rumble of her purring. She is still bright and alert and happy.
   I'm giving her hospice care; neither hastening nor prolonging her life, just providing support and giving her the best quality of life possible. She's clearly not ready to give up, but is becoming a shadow of her former self; quieter, and thin. It's so difficult to see her go through this.
   I'm realizing that in some ways, though I treasure the time I have with her, I'm in the most difficult phase of her life—for myself, emotionally. While Atom's death was heart-wrenchingly fast—only 4 days from diagnosis to his end—in some ways it was easier to take. I didn't see it coming. Gypsy was diagnosed with kidney disease the same day that Atom died, so I've basically been grieving for her ever since. I'm torn between the hope that she can overcome this for a time, and the pain of watching her decline. It is awful to be grieving for someone while they are still here, and I remind myself that she will sense this and take cues from me.

   I feel so deeply sad, but am trying to allow myself some grace. I remind myself that I've been fortunate to have been spared the loss of someone so close to me for many years. Atom was gone so quickly that I didn't have time to stop and think about it. I've lost both my grandmothers in the last few years, but never in my life did I live close to them, so although I loved them, we didn't have a tight bond. Mom has lost Bailey and Madison, her Golden Retrievers, with whom I used to live. But I was already living in Kansas City when they passed, so I was sheltered from the pain. They didn't feel like "mine" anymore—I was sad for her, not myself.

   The last time I felt such deep pain was when I had to say good-bye to Justin, another Golden, when I was in college. He was the family dog, but really he was mine—like a big, furry little brother. I grew up with him at my side. He was ten when he was diagnosed with cancer. I'll never forget that call from the vet. Justin had been dropped off for exploratory surgery, in an attempt to determine why he had been so sick for a few months. "His body is full of cancer," the vet said quietly. "What do you want us to do?"

   I knew that he was so uncomfortable that it didn't feel right to let him come home and continue to suffer. I met the vet at the office—Charlotte drove me there. Justin's tail thumped against the inside of the metal cage when he saw me. He thought he was going home. I knelt and held his big, heavy head in my lap while she gave him the injection. It was the hardest thing I'd even done. I was twenty-one.

   These intense feelings were matched when I said good-bye to Atom. He declined so rapidly, and when I went to the emergency vet to visit him (he was on an IV for the weekend, to see if he'd respond), I knew immediately that the right thing to do was to let him go. He looked miserable. Yet, almost imperceptibly, he lifted his head and purred when he felt my hand stroking his face. His nose twitched. He knew it was me, coming to say good-bye, and he was glad I was with him.

   Gypsy will be the hardest yet; she has been with me longer than any animal, and we've had the tightest bond. It's hard to even describe how close I feel to her. I can't imagine life without her.

   No matter how long our pets are with us, whether it's one year or twenty-five, it's never long enough. And there's really no way to prepare for the big hole that they leave in your heart when you lose them. No matter how difficult this is, I'm reminding myself that they all have had amazing, happy lives that I have helped provide for them. They are the family that you get to choose. And my life is immeasurably better because of them.

Fun at the Pet Expo

Psst!!! Bring back something fun for me!

   This weekend was the Pet Expo at the The Overland Park International Trade Center. I attended last year with both dogs, but it was SO crowded that Aki didn't enjoy it completely, so this year, she snoozed at home while Tay and I hit the town. Tay is very okay with crowds! But he did look a little bummed to be leaving his buddy at home:

He perked up as soon as he walked into the Trade Center, though! He got to walk on carpeting, try out the elevators, and see tons of other dogs and people, not to mention shop booth after booth of doggy delights, sample treats of all varieties, and ogle a bunch of rescued parrots, whom he wanted to eat.

   His favorite thing at the whole expo? These empty cages. He was just SURE that there must be an animal in ONE of them! He raced back and forth, sniffing and checking them all, even standing on them for a top-down check. His goofy tail-hawk was wagging the whole time.

    The best part of the show—for me—was scoring a huge bag full of different dry & wet cat foods from a few brands, to try with her persnickety highness. Back at home, I piled more foods on the dining room table for Gyp to sample, then we all settled in together on the couch.

Zzzzzzzzzz.......

Spoiled cat of the year

   Here is my entry in the first annual "Spoiled cat of the year" competition... And its corollary, the "Crazy cat lady of the year". I really believe that Gyp & I are a cinch to clench both titles. Better clear some space on the mantle for the trophies!
In all seriousness though, my friends are awesome: fellow pet lovers, they are empathetic to the situation and came through on the sample request. We're up to NINE plates, plus assorted treats.
   Gyp is still grazing a little at a time, & needs to be gently reminded to do so, but I'm thrilled with her progress. I can honestly say that I am certain I am doing everything in my power to give her every chance to thrive, & the rest is in God's hands. At the end of all this, feeling sure of that will help me be at peace.

Tracking Progress...

   This morning's count was that Gypsy ate 52 pieces of food in 24 hours, up from 47 pieces the day before. And today Allyson and Amy stopped by, graciously bringing me samples of their cats' food, so I have two more to offer Gypsy tonight.

   My dining room table looks like a cat buffet. I have expect to come home from work and find hundreds of neighborhood cats peering in my windows and trying to collectively break my door down to get in. Or worse—that Gypsy has INVITED them in and they're having a raucous party!

7 and counting!

   Thanks to Olivia & Kelly's contributions, I'm up to 7 different dry foods. And although Gyp isn't eating a large quantity of anything, she is sampling most of them. And Allyson & Amy said they'd bring food too.

   Gypsy purred & purred while I gave her the fluids tonight--more than usual. How she can be so happy with a 2" needle in her neck is beyond me!

   I'll count kibble again in the morning to assess the past 24 hours. I may have to invest in an abacus or make a fancy spreadsheet. Hopefully things will keep looking up. Meanwhile, I'm going to need a bigger table!

Progress Vs. Perfection

   I'm happy to report that Gypsy made some much-needed progress last night! At the vet, we learned that the fluids we've been giving ARE helping: there was a very modest improvement in her BUN & creatinine levels. And this morning I counted the food pieces remaining on the plates to learn that she had eaten FORTY-SEVEN pieces!!! She left all the k/d (her most recent food), and ate some of the Science Diet Healthy from my vet, and some of the Nutro indoor adult salmon food, which was what I was feeding prior to the switch to k/d.
   Additionally, a couple of friends have already answered my pleas to bring samples of their cats' food. So tonight Gypsy can sample a different Science Diet blend (light) and some t/d (dental care) from Olivia and some Iams tuna flavor from Kelly. Here's hoping she loves it all. THANKS, FRIENDS!!!

   At work we have been using the mantra "progress vs. perfection" to remind ourselves that we need to be pushing forward and making an impact even when the results aren't perfect. I think that works for my Gyp, too. She's fifteen years old, and kidney disease and cancer are terminal, so I can't realistically expect a miraculous cure. But we will focus on making a little progress every day, so that she remains healthy and happy for as long as possible. I'm reminding myself to spend every free moment I have with her and be thankful for whatever time we have left. Life is precious!

My New Science Project

   My life continues to get stranger all the time... and it was pretty odd to begin with. See, I have this cat whom I treasure more than anything in the world:

    And her kidney disease (and probably cancer) is catching up with her. But Gyp isn't showing any signs of giving up (that's my girl!!), so I am holding out hope that she can still have a good, happy life for a while longer. After eight consecutive days of driving back & forth to the vet after work to have them administer sub-cutaneous fluids, they taught me how to do it myself. Here's where the odd science stuff comes in. I have a bag of fluid hanging from the curtain rod (height makes the fluid flow faster):

    And Gyp, amazingly, endures the treatments with no complaint. She really seems to understand that they give her energy and make her feel better! So every evening, I place her in her comfy bed, which fits conveniently in the kitchen sink:

    And I insert a long needle into the scruff of her neck. I stand there and stroke her fur and scratch her cheeks, and she purrs and leans into it. Far from distressed, she is relieved. Perky, content, and happy. In 5-6 minutes, she's had her daily limit of 200cc's and is done!
   I always loved science fair when I was in middle and high school. I'm down with science. And my current experiment is to offer a smorgasbord of different foods, 2-4 at a time, rotated twice per day, in an attempt to find one that pleases her Highness's delicate palate. The canned cat foods (variables group) & tuna fish (control group) weren't working, and she has dropped from 9 lbs. to 8 lbs. in one week!! So now I'm starting on the dry foods. She has eaten virtually nothing for 12 days, but tonight she ate 5 pieces of dry food from the variable group. The control groups (k/d, which she used to love, and Three Dog Bakery freeze-dried salmon treats, which she still will sample) will help me benchmark what's working.
   I emailed a few friends & coworkers tonight to ask them if they'd bring me a sample of their cats' food, so I can test many things in the next couple of days. I'm beginning with Gypsy's pre-k/d food, and a sample of what my veterinarian feeds.

   My hypothesis is that, since Gypsy looks bright and alert, and her coat is healthy and shiny, and because she shows a keen interest in most foods (though she sniffs & walks away, lately)... there must be a solution. Something she can eat that will help stabilize and maintain her weight. At this point I have nothing to lose but my dear kitty, so I'm giving it everything I've got. I will not put her through laborious treatments or allow her to suffer, but as long as she has the will, I will find a way. It's the least I can do to repay her for 15 years of friendship.
   And who says you never use anything you learn in school???

The Cat of 1000 Faces

Upon waking me up in the morning

Looking wonderfully indignant. "Feed me NOW."