Kitten Associates

Mazie went from having a strangely, rather shockingly elevated white blood count (53,000-when high normal is 19,000) and a high fever (105+°F) last week, to a NASTY upper respiratory infection. Her WBC went down to almost normal after hospitalizing her and giving her IV antibiotics. Her temperature went back down as of a few days ago, but she came home with the sniffle and each day Mazie seems more seriously afflicted.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Mazie, mid-sneeze.

Mazie IS eating, though much quieter than usual. She's found a place on the corner of the bed where the angle of the wall creates a comfy, almost hiding place. I put some towels and a pillow there for her. She's been taking it easy for a day.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Runny eyes and a spot of ringworm that's healing. Sweet...NOT!

I called the Vet and was given a message to get the kittens OUT of the room. That incubation is 7-10 days and that they should be in another room for that period of time. The problem is: I HAVE NO ROOM to put them into and we still don't have any foster homes.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Mazie has to constantly lick her face because her nose runs.

I begged a favor from a good friend. She's going to take Cara and Chester and maybe Polly, tonight. I hate to separate the cats, but it must be done. I think Polly could stay behind because she sneezes all the time and has watery eyes, but is really not in bad shape at all. I wonder if what Mazie has is something else, entirely and if so, then Polly should go, too. Mazie will have a quiet week, but I'll make sure to spend time with her. My biggest fear is transmitting what Mazie has to my other cats, especially BOB DOLE.

Bob could die from a cold. I've been furiously washing hands, not touching Mazie, changing clothes. I don't know if it will be enough. I just heard Nora, one of our other cats, sneezing. I am very worried.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. My how Cara has grown, yet she is still tiny compared to her siblings.

Little Miss Cara is STILL tiny. One of the cats vomited, but I don't know if it was her. Having her live away for a week will help me find out if she's still getting sick. I see her do her "I feel queasy" mouthing where she licks at her mouth and twists her head a bit. Her appetite is good and she's bright and fairly playful. I think she's very close to being considered ready to be adopted-after she gets spayed, of course.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Polly. Our little girl has grown up.

Polly needs to see the Eye Specialist. I'll have to do a fundraiser for that. Her left eye is still cloudy. She may have some blindness from being sick, so young. She's grown into a beautiful young lady. Even with all that she's suffered, she's very sweet and LOVES to escape from the foster room, run down the stairs with her tail held high and visit the other cats. If she wasn't rapid-fire sneezing so often, I wouldn't mind her being out, but she can't go near my cats until she is all better-IF she ever gets better!

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. That's “Mr. Handsom” to you!

Then there's the most Handsome Young Cat in the world-Chester Cheesetoes. He still has a runny eye, but it's very subtle. All the cats are getting a big dose of Lysine to help boost their immune system. Other than his eye, Chester is awesome. He loves to get onto a high perch and watch things going on, below OR run after the laser pointer like a crazy-cat. He is so soft and sweet and stunning. He's grown into a very big boy.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Polly and Chester boldy go where I don't like them to go!

The cats have been here too long. Kitten Season is in full swing and I haven't saved one Mama or kitten. It's driving me crazy. I must get these cats well and adopted. I'm also so attached to each one of them, that it will be very hard to say goodbye-much harder than usual. The only comfort I can take in all of this is to remind myself that I've felt this way before and over time the pain softens. Over more time, I get to a place where I need a minute to remember their name. That's when I know it's okay to let them go. I have to make room for more. So many need help. Whether or not I cry about the ones I have makes no difference. I need to do this. I need to rescue more cats.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Who loves Cara? Who doesn't?

But more than anything else...I NEED THESE CATS TO GET BETTER!

The Vet bill for Mazie came in a just over $700.00. It's a heartbreaking amount of money for us to come up with and thankfully, many of you have used our ChipIn to help out. We still need about $200.00 to get to our total, so if you can offer a dollar or two, we appreciate it VERY much! Thank you for helping Mazie!

(You can use the ChipIn for Maze on the right sidebar if you wish to donate. Your donation IS tax deductible.)

WARNING: GRAPHIC PICTURES OF CAT VOMIT IN THIS POST. YECCH!

Mama-Mazie, our foster cat, is a sweet girl. Just barely older than her own kittens, Chester, Cara and Polly, she's been waiting for her forever family to find her for months. No one has asked after her. No one wants to adopt her. I couldn't understand why because she's a VERY sweet cat and loves to “talk” to me. Her eyes are sparkling green and full of life-that is until yesterday afternoon.

I'm still struggling with constant headaches after a car accident I was in last year. Yesterday I had to have Trigger Point Injections followed by Physical Therapy. Basically TPI means, stick LOTS of needles into your muscle to “tenderize” the meat (muscle). It's not so bad until they find a knot in the muscle. That feels like a hornet sting. The Doctor did A shots into my upper back and into my NECK. Unhappy camper, was I.

I raced home to attend an online web presentation about Public Relations for shelters. I sat down for about 5 minutes, then realized I needed to feed the foster cats. I got their food ready and ran upstairs. The second I walked in the door something was wrong. Mazie was resting on top of a pillow. She looked uncomfortable. I went over to her and petted her. Tried to lift her down to the floor to see if she could walk. She CRIED when I touched her.

The kittens were clamoring to be fed, so I got them fed, but Mazie didn't want to eat. Bad sign. She is ALWAYS ready to eat. She was also unusually quiet. It's not the end of the world if a cat misses a meal. I ran down stairs to take part in the presentation. Meanwhile I started to fret about Mazie...I had a flashback that she had very loose stool on Sunday. Was she brewing a virus?

I couldn't concentrate on the talk so I ran back upstairs. That's when I saw it.

The wall, the bed, the cat tree, the floor was covered in vomit. It looked like a crime scene. My first fear was that it was CARA, but I had no way to know who did it. Mazie had moved to the floor and was laying on a cat bed, looking miserable. She started to lick her mouth, got up and went to a corner of the room and vomited. It wasn't much. Looked like the stomach contents after everything else had already come out.

I started to get really upset. I called Connie. Thankfully, she was on her way home from work and said she could stop by. I went back to Mazie. I petted her again, this time trying to feel for injury, but she didn't want to be touched. She hissed and cried. She was in a lot of pain.

I thought about the morning. Mazie and the gang were playing in my bedroom. She did see Nora and hissed at her, but that wouldn't make her get so sick. She ran around the room chasing the laser pointer light. Maybe she twisted a leg, pulled a muscle? No...she could walk, but it was very slowly. She kept trying to get away from me, searching the room for a place to hide.

I called the Vet. They were about to close. Now I faced taking Mazie to the ER Vet when we just don't have the funds to cover that sort of visit. Connie got to my house in record time. I was so glad to see her. We spoke about whether or not to take her to the ER. We knew they would charge a lot more for the same tests that Dr Larry would run, but if Mazie could get through the night it would be better on all of us.

I really felt like I was getting kicked when I'm down. I've always found a way to come up with whatever I need for the cats, but now I found myself just shaking my head. I had to chose to keep Mazie home. We'd have to make it to the morning. Maybe she'd even feel better by then?

I checked on Mazie every hour until midnight. She refused to eat or drink. She did pee and poop (though that was not completely normal). She did not seem to be in pain in the litter pan, so that was good. So what WAS wrong with her?

I tried to leave Mazie alone other than the quick check on her. I put my pajamas on and hoped I wouldn't have to do a middle-of-the-night drive to the ER. I couldn't clean up the linens from her vomit without moving her off the bed. It was only on the end of the bed, so I carefully set a place for myself to half lay down next to Mazie and not be in puke. Was that fun? No.

With my bad neck and back it was not good. Polly came over and laid on my shoulder, then moved to next to my face. She purred and looked at me, seemingly delighted that I finally was going to sleep with them one night. Mazie was still. Her breathing was shallow, but not too rapid. She was not open mouth breathing. Just laying there.

At 2 AM Mazie used the pan again. After that I was so tired, I dragged myself to bed. Set the alarm for 7am and fell into a nightmareish sleep.

This morning Mazie refused to eat. She was no better and no worse. I packed her up and took her to the Vet. She cried at the Vet's office. I told her it would be ok and that I would be back for her. They're going to give her fluids and do some bloodwork, probably a few x-rays, too. Hopefully I'll have some idea of what happened, fairly soon.

UPDATE: As I was writing this, Dr Larry called me. Mazie's white blood count is 53,000! High normal is 19,000. Her x-rays were clear. They can't get a cath into her-she is in too much pain and is resisting. They gave her sub-q fluids and injectable antibiotics. If she doesn't perk up, she will have to be transferred to an ER Hospital. They are repeating her FIV/FELV test-just in case. We do not know the cause for Mazie's infection.

Mazie was so bright and sunny barely 24 hours ago. Now the light has gone out of her eyes and she's in terrible pain.

If you'd like to help Mazie get the Vet Care she needs, please use the ChipIn widget below. Your donation IS tax deductible. Thank you for helping her. I am going to set the goal total high enough to cover a day at the ER Vet if it comes to that. I'll lower it if she stablizes later today. Remember, every dollar helps!!

Please be okay, Mazie. We're rooting for you.

It's been a long week of Vet trips. I think Cara's getting used to being in the car, as long as I don't go faster than 70 mph. The faster I drive, the more distressed she gets, so I try to go easy, though if any of you have driven I-95 through southern Fairfield County you'll know the motto is: “I survived 95.”

I find that the longer I have cats and the more often I go to the Vet, I find myself questioning their choices and pushing back on the test or medications they prescribe. I know these cats medical history better than the Vet. They have many other patients to tend to. I can't expect them to remember everything. I find, too, that it's a good idea to make the most informed decision you can. Sure, I'm not perfect, but I can tell you if I had gone along with some recommendations to feed Cara dry food, that she'd be dead by now or at least in very serious shape.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara, chillin.'

I found myself doing that, again, regarding giving Cara antibiotics even though I knew she had an infection of some sort. I wanted more answers before giving her ANYTHING. Two Vets said, Convenia. Well, I've heard too many bad things about it and even if all if it was false, the fact that it's injectable and lasts for two weeks, means you can't STOP giving it if she has a bad reaction to it. Also, she's been on almost EVERY antibiotic there IS and I do NOT want to give her more unless her life is at stake.

So I compromised. Two days in a row of a single shot that lasted one day. It may have been enough to get Cara over the edge. We repeated her blood work and the white blood cell count was back to normal, but her Eosinophils were quite high-indicating either infection or allergic reaction to something.

Again, you must remember that blood work is a snapshot, not the full picture. Often times you have to repeat blood work to make certain there's a problem. I know we'll have to repeat Cara's again at some point.

Cara vomited a few more times. Once at the Vet (good timing so they could witness what was going on) and once a day after that for two more days. I knew Cara was facing something major-another endoscopy or exploratory surgery. Surely this darn cat was going to bankrupt all of us!

I was slated to meet Dr. K in Norwalk, abut an hour drive from here, Friday morning. I knew I was going to have a rough time with the drive because I HAD to get up at 4AM to watch The Royal Wedding. I'm not a nut about weddings, per se, but I did it because it's part of history and I like to be part of things, even if I'm in my PJ's eating scones and watching it on TV. I also did it because my Mother and I watched Charles and Diana get married and it was a nice memory to have, now that my Mother has long since passed away.

I saw the monumental “Kiss,” then ran out the door before the shocking second kiss occurred. No sooner than I got in the car, I realized I was really tired. The last thing you want to do is drive I-95 when you're sleepy, but that's what I did. I decided I'd take it slow, just stay in the right lane-be mellow.

Once I got on the highway, it was clear, you can't be on 95 and be mellow. That doesn't work. You're either stuck behind a diesel belching dump truck doing 45 mph or you get tailgated going 80 mph. Even the middle lane was full of nutty drivers, so I sucked it up and got in the left lane. Better to get it over with.

At one point I decided I HAD to wake up so I slapped myself! HARD! I've never done that before and I must say it did help my face sting. but I felt like I was going to shut my eyes and go to sleep, anyway. I opened the window and let the fresh air slap me, but Cara didn't like the extra noise, so I shut the window.

I got to VCA VREC right on time-alive, so that was good. I didn't have to wait long for the appointment. Out came Dr. K. She's awesome, but very speedy. She just cuts to the chase and goes over what she feels needs to be done, talking 100 words a second. Fortunately, I was able to keep up with her or in my sleepy-mind I fooled myself into believing that was the case. She decided she wanted to take a quick look at Cara using their ultrasound machine-even though we just had it done by another Vet at a different hospital. Before I could start my mental adding machine, she said she was just going to take a peek-don't worry about any charge.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara was VERY popular with the ladies at the front desk.

This is when I was sure I was sleeping, because I must have been dreaming. Dr. K whisked Cara away and I went back to the waiting room and got a “free” cup of tea, hoping it would revive me. Everyone in the waiting room had a dog-purebred. I was definitely in the wrong place. I ended up impressing a woman by identifying her dog—a schipperke. The lady next to her challenged me to guess her dog's breed. Without missing a beat, I said; Clumber Spaniel. She was surprised I knew it and said most people got it wrong. I told her I watch Westminster Kennel Club dog show every year, which I do, but I didn't tell her I knew it was a Clumber because I really don't like that breed at all.

Another lady brought in a Scottie. He was carried in the door, wrapped in a towel. They rushed the dog into the back where the Vets do their secret things. The woman had been crying. The other dog owners were telling her they knew what she was going through and they were so sorry. I didn't want to know what was going on. I'd rushed my own cat, Stanley, there many years ago and he came home with me, in a cardboard box. It was too late for them to help him, too.

Dr. K came out of the exam room and motioned for me to join her. She said that (BIG SIGH HERE), there was no need to do endoscopy on Cara, nor did she feel there was a need to do exploratory surgery-just yet. She repeated the x-rays we just did two days ago and DID see evidence of a small amount of corn-based cat litter in her intestines. She didn't see anything else that was alarming, but did feel Cara could still have some sort of parasitic infection or allergic reaction to her food.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. They let her answer the phones, but she wasn't good about writing down messages.

Oh no...her food. Here we go again. She better not tell me to feed Cara dry food. Thankfully, she only asked me to feed a unique protein in a canned food and she had to write a prescription for me to get IVD Duck & Peas formula. I asked if it had grain. She assured me it did not. I grumbled about the food, but told her I would get some. She told me to de-worm Cara for three more days using Panacur and she also gave Cara an emedic to keep her from vomiting for a day or so. Other than that, we'd just wait and see.

Of course, if Cara DOES continue to vomit, we're looking at endoscopy AND possibly surgery. I wasn't going to start worrying about that. I wanted to focus on getting Cara better.

It's been two days since we saw Dr. K and Cara has been keeping her food down. Last night her energy level was jaw-dropping. She could almost fly on her own she can jump so high. This morning there was a mishap, a step back. I discovered one of the cats had broken the light bulb in the lamp in their room. Broken bits of glass were all over the floor. The cats were right in the area with the broken glass. I acted quickly to get them out of the room, but the next thing I envisioned was yet another trip to the Vet. What fun would it be...four cats with glass in their paws?

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara doesn't like “Love Triangle,” but I can't help watching it.

That Vet bill is not math I care to do. The cats seem fine, but Cara got so badly frightened by the vacuum cleaner, even though it was quite far away from her and she couldn't even see it. She started to viciously hiss at me, then ran and hid. She's never ever been even the slightest bit nasty with me or her siblings. She's doing better now, but I think we all need a nice quiet evening with NO MORE VET TRIPS and perhaps a restful nap.

Yes, a nap. I could go for that, just not a dirt-nap.

This morning I brought Cara in to see Dr. Larry. Thankfully, they were able to fit her into the schedule for today without an appointment, but it meant I had to leave her there and they'd do x-rays and an exam at some point during the day. I got home and sat in the foster room with Mazie, Chester and Polly. They've been in that room for FOUR MONTHS. Only Mazie can be adopted and no one has been interested in her. Polly STILL has a URI and Chester is dealing with that spot of ringworm on his head. I know that being in a small room, even if it does have one huge window that overlooks the yard and another smaller window that gives them a view of the sky and tree tops, is not enough. Since they can't really catch anything from my cats and vice versa, I let them out into my bedroom once in awhile. There's more room to run around, but they really need a huge space to stretch their legs. I suppose if being bored or not having a lot of space was their biggest problem, I'd be lucky.

Dr Larry called me early this afternoon. Cara's x-rays did not show any obvious foreign object, but he wanted to do a blood panel to make sure she didn't also have an infection. I wanted to push back and say, no, not to spend the money since Cara seems fine, but I agreed. He told me to meet him at 4pm and by then he'd have the results and I could take Cara home.

Things were busy at Maple Ridge today, so I grabbed a People magazine and looked at it while I waited for Dr. Larry in exam room number 2. I noticed photos of celebrities in their bathing suit, walking on the beach at some exclusive resort. I didn't even know who half the people were. Then, it dawned on me. Why does it matter that I need to see these photos at all? If there were photos of my neighbors walking on the beach, I would be just as uninterested. They're on vacation? So what! What are they doing that's unusual, interesting, important? Maybe People should be renamed; “Photos of people on the beach with really nice bodies, wearing huge sunglasses, but otherwise not really doing anything.” I swear they use the same photo each week, they just photoshop the latest celebrity A-lister face over the body they used the week before.

I was just about to read about why Catherine Zeta-Jones is disclosing she has Bipolar Disorder II and why there is a “II” and what that means? Is it a sequel to Bipolar Disorder I? Maybe it's fancy movie star version of Bipolar disorder? Dr. Larry entered the exam room before I could sort it all out. He sighed. Then he said something about me having too much on my plate. I had a feeling he was about to add more to it and I was right.

Cara's blood work showed her White Blood Cell Count was VERY HIGH. High-normal is about 20,000. Cara's is 35,000. She's got a raging infection. Her stomach is swollen full of gas. Her intestines are full of stool-almost packed solid. I looked at the x-rays and asked about something I saw in her stomach-some small particulate. Dr. Larry waved it off saying it was the cat food I feed...you know the RAW food with the BONES in it. I balked. Cara does not get raw. She gets canned. So of course it has to be the canned food. It's CANNED FOOD! There aren't BONES in it. Then it hit me. It was the cat litter. It confirmed what I had been suspicious of all along—that Cara has been eating the corn based cat litter. Perhaps the high WBC count is due to her eating out of the litter pan?

It's tough to say what's going on exactly. Dr Larry wanted to have an ultrasound done. The Vet who performs them had a cancellation. It's for tomorrow at 8:30AM. Larry felt we might be able to see if there's still a piece of yarn toy acting as a filter between her stomach and her intestines or if there's any damage to her stomach from eating the toy or ingesting the litter. It would give us some info, but potentially not enough.

Cara may need exploratory surgery or another endoscopy. Dr. Kittral, who's been performing all Cara's endoscopies needs to be included in our decisions. Sadly, she doesn't start her work week until TOMORROW. Dr. Larry wanted to put Cara on antibiotics, which, of course, raised a huge alarm bell in me. We can't give her oral meds or we risk causing her strictures to return. We compromised and Larry gave her an injection that will only last until tomorrow. By then, hopefully we will have more answers and be able to figure out a game plan for Cara.

I tried to be brave, but I felt a bit weak in the knees. Cara could be in a very dangerous situation. With her esophagus compromised already and her stomach lining possibly being damaged, we can't try to clear the stool out of her without risking her rupturing somewhere. Anything invasive that needs to be done, has to be carefully considered. Any medications given must be carefully scrutinized. She's been on too many antibiotics. She's been through so much already. I just don't know how we're going to get her over this next hurdle.

This Vet bill, even with a discount, is going to be bad. It could be the beginning of VERY BAD, I don't know how bad just yet. I'm going to open up yet another fundraiser for Cara. Her last two Vet bills came to $1500.00 and with the loan I got, we were able to pay everything off in full, but now we're back to loose change in our pockets to pay for the next Vet bills. I'm guessing that between today and tomorrow it will be $600.00 and counting. I can't give up on Cara even if the timing is the worst, ever. I thought we were over the hump, but now we've been pushed back down the hill like a feline version of Sisyphus.

I also have a lot of guilt about this situation. The past two weeks I just haven't been home much with frequent trips to NYC to care for Sam's mother. I couldn't feed the cats as regularly as usual and I fear that Cara resorted to eating the litter out of desperation and perhaps now has developed a taste for it. I really LIKE the litter and the other cats are fine with it, but I have to stop using it around Cara.

As for Cara; we've just GOT to get her well; for once and for all.

I realize we've had to ask for help more often than I ever imagined to get Cara well. I'm blessed with having devoted and compassionate friends of this Blog. My hope is that not one person has to donate more than $5. If we can all ChipIn, we'll hit our goal in a heartbeat. If you can share this request with your friends, I would appreciate it very much. Your donation IS tax deductible, as the funds go to a Kitten Associates, Inc. foster kitten (Cara).

I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. I just saw Cara PROJECTILE vomit. I've never seen so much fluid come out of such a small animal, so quickly, in my LIFE. The vomit was mostly water. She'd eaten a good 5 hours before she vomited, so this indicates she was able to digest her food, but why so much water? Clearly something was wrong with her when I sat down to have some play time with the foster kitties around midnight.

Cara licked her mouth—a lot. This is a strong indicator of nausea. I knew she hadn't eaten recently, so I couldn't figure out what was going on. I got her a bowl of fresh water, not really knowing what else to do. I have had some fears she's been eating her corn based cat litter and perhaps that was the culprit? I spread some chunky Yesterday's News over the corn litter to put a “protective coating” over the corn until I could change out the entire pan.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Poor Cara. She's been through so much already.

Meanwhile, Cara was troubled and uncomfortable. I lifted her up to listen to her belly. Was it rumbling? Was her breathing ok? Her heart was racing. I put her down, then moved her inside her cat carrier because if she was going to get sick, she could do it there instead of on the bed (which is why I've had to do a lot of laundry lately.). The past two weeks I've been finding these enormous watery vomits in the foster room. Due to the volume of fluid, I thought it was Mazie or possibly Polly or Chester. They're still twice Cara's size. Certainly it was not her.

Between everything else going on in my life, I just wasn't able to give Cara the close attention I normally can provide. I've had to spend much less time with the fosters.

The biggest reason it's been difficult to be more attentive to the foster cats is Sam's mother. She's having surgery today. I was told to stay home and keep things going here. It's partially due to the reality of having relationship problems with Sam, and possibly moreso that the folks at the hospital don't even know what time or what HOSPITAL she's having the surgery done. After being in the Psych Ward for TWO WEEKS, with little information provided, we only know she's had her meds adjusted for the pain in her hip and now her Orthopedist says, at 82, she's still a good candidate for a hip replacement. So...after her attempting to take her life over the pain she was in and the fear of having to have surgery to repair her hip, now she is fine with the notion of having her hip replaced, which I believe is far simpler and less painful than the corrective surgery she had five years ago. It's rather ironic she's at this place after where she started off, but she's alive and hopefully her surgery will go well and she'll be on to a new, happier chapter of her senior years.

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I'm writing this at 12:30 AM, so as soon as Dr Larry's office opens at 8 AM, I'm going to call to see if they can fit Cara in for an x-ray and an exam. Last week in one of the vomits, I found a length of a knitted curlycue cat toy that was attached to a plastic wand. I caught Polly gnawing on it and figured she had also been the culprit who threw up a piece of it. I made it tough for the cats to get at the toy. I was stupid. I should have thrown it out. I saw Polly chew it again a few days later, so that's when I finally did throw it away.

The problem is-it may not have been Polly eating the toy. In Cara's vomit, there was a 2 INCH long piece of that darn toy! Cara HAD eaten it. Was there MORE in her stomach? If I had saved the remaining cat toy, I would have been able to make a guesstimate, but with that gone, my only choice is to get her x-rayed to see if there's more inside her.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. 2 inches long. I measured it!

Cara's energy has been off and on, but mostly normal. She eats well. Her eyes are bright, yet...after days of wondering who was vomiting, I had to do something to figure out which cat was sick. I crated Cara for two days until she vomited in her crate, proving to me it was her all along. I made an appointment for her to see Dr. Kittral, her Internist, right away. The soonest we can get in is on Wednesday. I know I can't wait that long, so we'll start with x-rays in a few more hours and I've left a message for Dr K for when she starts her week on Tuesday, so she knows what's going on.

I'm terribly worried that after ALL the effort, the two endoscopies, the medications every 6 hours...has it all been UNDONE because Cara ate a cat toy? Are we back to square one? I'm terrified of what this is going to cost, but I'm going to take it one day at a time. We'll do the x-ray and hope for the best. Maybe Cara just popped out the only foreign object inside her? Maybe pigs will fly out of my butt, too?

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Polly (left), Cara (center) and Mama-Mazie (right) settle down on the electric blanket for a nap.

I have to admit, this cat is driving me nuts. She's so sweet and so dear, but I just can't keep up with all her problems! I keep thinking we're over the hump and she's on the road to being 100% healthy, but she just isn't getting there any time soon! Maybe her Internist will adopt her and make my life a lot easier and her's a lot better? Yeah, right...like that's gonna happen.

I'll update this post as soon as I can get Cara to Dr. Larry...

I just couldn't wait any longer. I got the cats fed and/or pilled. Got myself dressed. I double checked I had everything, then left the house at 8AM knowing full well I'd arrive at the PETS Transport drop off location in Danbury 30 minutes early. I needed to get my hands on Noelle and Amelia. I wanted them off that big truck and into a warm, quiet car...really, into my lap. I've seen only a few photos of the girls and heard stories about them, but today, Connie and I were finally going to meet them. It's been so long since I felt the joy of rescuing a cat. I really have missed it.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Look familiar? Yep! Transport day is here!

There were only a few cars in the parking lot when I arrived. The car next to me, a subaru from NY had a couple in it holding a small beagle. I thought how nice it was that this dog was getting a new buddy today and how much things would change for that dog-hopefully for the better.

I listened to the radio, which in my car is rather daunting since the reception isn't so great. I heard about a new book that sounded interesting, but already forgot the title. I was just too excited. I kept scanning the parking lot for the truck and for Connie's car.

I watched Connie's SUV pull into the parking lot. I watched her navigate past some geese who were waddling around in the the parking lot. As Connie got closer, I waved at her. She saw me and I could see her jumping up and down in her seat! It was a hilarious sight. Connie is the perkiest person I have ever met. Her energy and good cheer is contagious and it made me feel even more excited.

There was already a truck form PETS in the lot, but I checked with them and they said the cats were on the next transport to arrive (any minute). I tried to stop Connie from getting out of the car, into the cold rain, but the second she parked, she was out of the car, ready to RUN over to the truck. I got things sorted out with her and we both sat in her car while we continued to wait.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. One of Kyle's team brings out someone's new dog.

The transport was right on time and as it pulled up, Connie said she was going to start crying (again!), just like last time. Seeing people meet their new pet for the first time is very moving. I think the lousy weather and the fact there weren't many people to pick up animals made it less emotional for us. I saw Kyle Petersen, the owner of PETS and the guy you see featured on Animal Planet's “Last Chance Highway,” get out of the truck. I met Kyle at a Conference a few years ago and we had a good chat about moving cats north. He's a really sweet man. We said hello and I told him to watch the weather. Bad storms are due this afternoon and he said he'd keep safe. Since we were second in line we didn't have to wait long for the girls. As usual, they were the ONLY cats on the transport. It's always full of dogs, but cats are rarely moved. Yes, there's a big whoopdeedo about bringing cats anywhere since there's an overpopulation problem for cats nationwide.

In the northeast, we don't have a problem with dogs, so it's “ok” to move them without hearing a peep from local rescuers, though some say the pit bulls, which are often sitting in local shelters, get overlooked because folks can get a Lab or a Golden from the south. Honestly, I have gotten the most lovely, friendly and even stunning cats from the south and the odds are far greater they will be euthanized and have less chance to find a home than cats up here. Of course, if I had the space or foster homes, I'd rescue local cats, too. The best I can do right now is help network local rescue groups with folks here who need help with their cats.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Kyle and our first look at Noelle.

Kyle lifted Noelle out of the carrier to put her into our carrier. She looked scared, but we only saw her for a second. Another moment later, Kyle had Amelia in his hands. Connie and I were vibrating, we were so anxious to get the cats. Kyle handed me the paperwork and Connie took the carrier. We got into Connie's car. Noelle was meowing, not really crying. I carefully lifted Amelia out and gave her to Connie and I took Noelle.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Hi Amelia!

Both cats were frightened, so we just held them and petted them and let them settle down. Suddenly we were in no hurry to go anywhere or do anything. We just wanted the girls to relax and we wanted a chance to get to know them a bit before Connie took them to Animals in Distress's shelter in Wilton.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Amelia is a show-stopper, she's so gorgeous.

We held them for a long time before I even tried to take a photo. It was lovely to see them. Amelia is stunning. Her eyes are bright green and many of her toes are white on a black paw. She seemed interested in all that was around her and after a few minutes began to settle down. Of course Connie and I decided we wanted to take the cats home with us, but we knew we tormented ourselves knowing we couldn't.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. White toes! Hee hee.

I noticed the people who were in the car with the dog were back, but the car was empty. Then I realized it was because they gave the dog BACK to be transported back south. Connie and I were heartbroken. I think Connie wanted to get out of the car and smack those people. It was very weird because they drove a little way, then stopped suddenly just in front of the transport. I said I thought maybe they were reconsidering. They sat there for a few minutes. The transport started to leave and they followed it out onto the main road. It was very sad. I hope that dog will be all right.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Amelia sees the geese in the parking lot.

Noelle was finally settling down. I wanted to get some photos, so I put Amelia into the crate and gave Noelle to Connie. Noelle started to call out to Amelia and turned to look for her. She clearly did not want to be away from Amelia-even for a moment.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Maria had warned me that Noelle had bonded very strongly to Amelia. It was clear she was okay with us, but she needed to be close to her surrogate mother. I took a few quick photos, then offered Noelle some food. She ate a bit, but when she heard Amelia eating in the carrier in the back seat, she got very squirmy. I took the hint and put both cats with their food, together.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Noelle was a bit nervous but didn't mind being held at all.

The next thing I saw shocked me. Amelia was eating. Noelle was at the back of the carrier, afraid. Then she came over to Amelia. She didn't walk under Amelia, rather Amelia put her front leg over Noelle, as if to protect her. Noelle felt safe enough to eat some food

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Amelia protects her little ward, Noelle.

I grabbed a few clumsy photos. If you look carefully, you can see Amelia's leg over Noelle. Noelle ate like that for a few moments, then they ate peacefully side by side. I said to Connie that we've got to adopt those two cats out together. She agreed. What a pair they are! The love they obviously have for each other is deeply touching. Of course it will make them harder to adopt. Connie is determined to see they stay together.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Even though we had two carriers, we left the girls together in just one so they could snuggle up on the last leg of their journey. It'll be a bumpy few days as they get used to their new living situation, but I have a feeling that they won't be at the shelter for long, anyway. These lovely ladies had us both smitten. I'm sure there's a family out there who will feel the same as we do.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. I just LOVE Noelle's sweet face.

I was very happy to meet the girls. I had a good time talking to Connie. I hated to see them all leave for the shelter. My joy lasted until I walked in the front door of my home, had a huge fight with Sam, then he left for New York City, to visit his Mother in the hospital. Tomorrow it will be two weeks since she was admitted. It's unlikely she'll be going home any time soon.

Meanwhile, I'm left to wonder if Sam will be coming home any time soon, as well.

I want to rescue every cat who needs help. As far as I'm concerned, they could all live here with me. It's “Kitten Season” and so many cats are giving birth right now-kittens everywhere. It will only get worse in the coming weeks. This is the time when most cat rescue groups gear up for the onslaught with calls coming in from frantic owners or just folks that find a surprise litter of kittens in their yard. Many of those cats aren't going to see their first birthday. Thinking about that makes my heart ache.

I want to be one of those groups who can say YES to taking in pregnant mamas or mamas and kittens, but the reality is that without foster homes, my hands are tied. Between my own cat, Bob having lymphoma and ringworm and my current fosters too sick to be adopted out, I have nowhere to put any more foster cats—plus it's just not good to bring more cats into this environment until we can do a serious scrub down.

I can't tell you how much I HATE not being able to say YES. I want to get going; get more cats into our Program so we can help save lives. I know it's temporary. I'll work it out. We'll get more foster families. We'll get our funding going. The thing is...I know that more cats will die because I can't say YES. I know it's not my fault, but knowing that I could have helped, but couldn't put all the elements in place to make it happen-that troubles me greatly.

A few months ago I said my last “YES” to helping two more kitties: Noelle and Amelia.

©2011 Maria Sandoval. Sweet little Noelle.

Noelle was lost. A little kitten, cold and starving, hid under the hood of a car to get warm this winter. It was her mistake, but maybe her saving grace that she did what she did. Someone heard her cry when they started up the car. They were able to get to Noelle before she died. For her troubles, she had to give up most of her tail, but she got rescued and found herself in a warm home with our foster Mama in Georgia.

©2011 Maria Sandoval. Rub the belly!

Because I've been partnering with Animals in Distress in Wilton, CT, I've been able to help out an extra adult cat or two. When our foster Mama, Maria, asked to rescue one more kitty, I could say YES because AID was there for us. Her name is Amelia and she's a lovely tortie/calico and over the months has formed a deep friendship with Noelle.

©2011 Maria Sandoval.

The girls just gpt onto a PETS transport headed north-the same one they use on Last Chance Highway on Animal Planet. They'll be here early Saturday morning and I couldn't be more excited to finally meet them! Their arrival is another success-another sigh of relief. They're on to the next part of their journey-going to a small shelter that loves their cats, where they will make new friends and await their forever families to find them. Once they're adopted, we'll try to make room for rescuing a few more, but it's not enough.

©2011 Maria Sandoval. Amelia and her awesome white toes.

We've GOT to find a way to save more cats. If you happen to live near us in Newtown, CT and you'd like to know more about fostering kittens for a few weeks, please contact me at info(@)kittenassociates.org. and if you want to save lives in your own hometown, contact your local shelter or rescue groups (you can find a list of them on Petfinder by doing a “search by state”). It doesn't take a big committment-just a few weeks until the kittens are old enough to be adopted. You'll literally save lives, right before your eyes.

Help me say YES! Let's DO THIS!

This is Bobbi (image below) a few weeks after we rescued her. She was badly flea infested and severely underweight from being kicked out by her owner and left to fend for herself. A few hours after I posted about her, I got in a third photo (see bottom image). I couldn't help but compare it to one I shot last year.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bobbi shortly after she arrived in Connecticut after being rescued from a Kill Shelter in Georgia.

Her new family, the Murdoch's, definitely know how to turn that “MEH” into “MEOW!.” It's hard to believe that this is the SAME cat. The only thing that changed for her was now she gets a great diet, good Veterinary care and lots and lots of love.

©2011 The Murdoch Family. What a face!

Is it just me, or is there a glimmer of joy in her eyes that wasn't there before? I can't believe the transformation! Is Bobbi part Maine Coon? Maybe part Norwegian Forest Cat?

Bobbi, you're a dream come true. I'm SO HAPPY for you and your new family! Thank you Murdoch family for doing right by this sweet girl. I wish we had a thousand adopters just like you!

I finally have some good news to report. After the past few hellish weeks, out of the blue, today I got TWO updates on some of our former foster kitties! The news did my heart good and I hope it does the same for you.

Bobbi

Bobbi was rescued from Henry County Care & Control last summer. She was thin, covered in fleas and her skin was full of sores. To make matters worse, Bobbi was declawed! She had NO WAY to even scratch herself---and she was NOT EVEN SPAYED. I wrote a very "blue" rant about this which you can read about here if you're not offended by swearing. There's a more genteel post about her HERE, if you'd like to know more about this little girl's journey.

©2010 Henry Co. Care & Control. Bobbi at the shelter. Just looking at her, I knew I had to rescue this little sweetheart.

Apparently, Bobbi has settled in well with her new family. She's their only cat and is pampered and loved to her heart's content.

©2010 Maria. S. Bobbi out of the shelter and into foster care. She's thin and her coat is terrible. She was almost starved to death.

Bobbi's coat has surprised everyone. We thought she had Maine Coon in her, but her coat was shaggy and sort. Today it's plush and full. Her family tell us:

“We just love, love, love her. She is doing well, and has a healthy figure now:-) Her fur/hair is a complete surprise and amazement. I imagine her hair was thin and unhealthy when you first saw her in Ga. And when we adopted her, her hair was silky and medium. Well, I hope the photo I send shows this, but she has about 3 undercoats followed by lots of long hair. Her color is even a little different, more red has come out. She loves to be scratched and we love to give her the attention.

She loves to sleep in the sun, eat, play with a silk cord and jumping into pillows and blankets that I make into a big pile. ”

©2011 The Murdoch Family. What a difference six months makes!

This is why I do what I do. To get these updates and know I did something that changed this cat's life for the better and for the rest of her life. She will never know suffering again-and that's how it should be for every cat and dog in need!

©2011 The Murdoch Family. Life is good for Bobbi now.

Moonpie & Pattycake

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Moonpie (left) and Pattycake (right)

I had Moonpie and Pattycake for a long time—months and months. Patty had ringworm, then Moonie got it. Then I decided they HAD to stay together. I could not adopt them out separately. They were like two peas in a pod. I knew it would be tougher to find them a home, but I hung on and hoped against hope the right family would come along.

They did. In a BIG way!

Moonpie and Patty live in a 5000 sq foot home. At first it was too much for them and they spent a few worried weeks running around the house. They've been with their new family for a few months now and today I found out that they've adjusted beautifully and are very “chill” cats, indeed.

Their pet sitter told me they have not just a cat tree to play on, but they have a “city” of cat towers. Not just in one room, but on each FLOOR of the home! They get the best food, the most love, and are doing wonderfully well.

I miss them dearly, but am so glad they're happy and healthy. It was worth the time spent worrying they'd never find a good home to know they're where they were meant to be all along.

If you'd like to read some of Moonpie and Patty's story, you can read it here and here.

WARNING: THIS POST DISCUSSES A POTENTIALLY UPSETTING TOPIC. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. YOU'RE “SAFE” UNTIL THE SECTION AFTER THE UPDATES ON THE FOSTER CATS, NEAR THE END OF THE POST.

I'm very sorry to not have been tending to my Blog over the last week and a half. Every day that passes that I don't write, bothers me a bit more.

Initially, my plans were to talk about the lovely birthday party-a SURPRISE party, that Sam held for me, now over a week ago. He really pulled the wool over my eyes. I had no idea until the very last second-when I hoped, against hope, that maybe even though he had a bad cold, even though he said there could be no birthday this year, even though most of my friends said they were busy that weekend, it would happen.

It was Connie's doing, too. She called me around noon on my birthday, to say her cat, Big O was very sick and could I come over and help her give him a bath? Oh yes and “Happy Birthday.” Big O was covered with poo! She sounded so sad, I realized it didn't matter if it was my birthday, so I got changed, grabbed some things to help with the bath and told Sam I was off. He knew I was hungry so he said he'd come with me and we could go eat afterwards.

Connie lives a mile away. As I started to pull up her driveway, I realized that Sam had asked me to “kill” a half hour before we went to lunch, then Connie called me, it was too much of a coincidence. Maybe something was going on at her house? Surely not. No. I was going to break up with Sam. I was really mad at him. He'd hardly talked to me for weeks. He didn't even notice when I got my hair done (like a porn star-that's what my stylist called it)-and it wasn't just because he didn't give me a birthday party. The near-silent treatment was killing me!

Then I noticed two cars in the driveway, but certainly it couldn't be cars I knew. It must be a...then I saw it...a “Happy 50th Birthday” banner over Connie's front door. There stood Marcia, Super-Deb and Connie, all waving and shouting Happy Birthday and here I am in a t-shirt with a glow-in-the-dark Cheshire Cat on it and crappy pants. Thank God I had a change of clothes with me! I looked over at Sam and was torn between slapping him and kissing him. I never had anyone throw me a surprise party in my life. It was really nice.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

No sooner than we walked in the door, I realized there was no sick cat, so I got changed, then we all left for lunch. As I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, I saw my dear nephew, Ryan and my sister, Anne! Another suprise, yay! This was going to be a nice day after all.

But then I walked into the dining room at the restaurant. There sat Mary. My other sister. I didn't see anyone else for a moment. My mouth fell open. Mary had LIED to me, first saying she was coming to take me to lunch and there was no way I'd be alone on my birthday, then she begged off saying her cat was sick not 6 hours later. She had been in Baltimore for a book show (Mary is a Writer and Graphic Designer)! Then I realized she must have driven up from there. What a shock!..and there sat her partner, Shelly...and my friends Irene and Jennifer I.! I love those babes! I was literally speechless and it took all my reserve not to burst into happy tears.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Nephew Ryan shoots the flames while his mom, Anne watches.

We ate at a Hibachi style restaurant and had TWO chefs taking turns either trying to set fire to the place or tossing food bits at our faces (since most of us couldn't hope to catch the food in our mouth). Everyone was happy and getting along well. I never wanted it to end. I had a nice lunch and lots of lovely gifts. I missed my Mother and Father so much, but they were there, too, in spirit (and later that day, I discovered my Mother had sent me a message, too. More on that, in another post).

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. The cake on the left is what I ordered for myself, thinking there would be no celebration of any sort. I cut out the frown and turned it upside down later that day.

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I have a lot to tell you about the cats-especially Bob. The short version is, to me, he seems to have turned a corner and is doing better. He seems to have gained weight. Tomorrow he gets Chemo #9. I'll find out if he gained any weight then. A surprise blessing is that some of his fur is growing back ever so slowly. It's just peach fuzz on his head, but I can see the subtle stripe of his tabby pattern in the fur.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob and the gang on the electric blanket

I took him to a Dermatologist and she confirmed he as a terrible case of ringworm and that only he can really fend it off and with cancer and a bad immune system, the odds aren't great. We give him baths and add a special lotion afterwards. He's lost half of his coat, but I think, just maybe it's slowed down. He seems comfortable and he seems a lot more like his old self.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

The kittens are still struggling with URI's and this and that. Cara has grown some, but one of the kittens has been vomiting. I don't know if it's Cara. We're closer to the day we can call her healed, but we're not there yet. The kittens are as big as their Mom, now. I think Chester will be even bigger. He is the most darling cat in the world. He really is sweet.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara and Chester, bigger and better every day.

MacGruber is still here, too. Got a tiny dot of ringworm on his paw, so he seems to stay here another month and another month...he's a bit like gum stuck on the shoe...but very cute gum.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Okay. I'm suppose to adopt this cat out! Really?

I'm bringing Noelle to Connecticut next week, along with Amelia, another Henry Co. Cat we rescued last year. It's time for them to get their forever homes. I need to write more about that soon.

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The main reason I need to write is I need to tell you what happened and why I haven't been able to write more than this post-we had a family tragedy and I'm struggling to cope with it.

A few days ago, Sam and I were to visit his Mother in Manhattan. We were going to have a belated birthday party for me and Sam's adult daughter, Kate, whose birthday is two days before mine. The day before we left, Sam told me his mother was having trouble walking. The pain from her hip, which she broke six years ago and has long since healed, was back. We worried that if she couldn't stand for a long period of time, that we needed to come up with ways for her to fix meals that didn't require much effort. The plan was to finally buy her a microwave whether she liked it or not. Get her some wholesome meals she could just pop into the microwave and eat without standing over a stove or getting up and down to check on a pot on a burner. We put a lot of time into planning how we'd manage to get all this stuff into her apartment, since we'd have to double park to get the car unloaded. Parking is a bear on the upper West side on a weekend.

We thought we had it all worked out. We got a bit of a late start, but we got everything done. Sam called his Mom to tell her we wold be there soon. She didn't sound right. She said she might need to go to the ER. Sam pressed her as to why. All she said was, “You'll find out when you get here.”

This was not something his Mother would say. She has always been the most polite and kind person I have ever known. She was raised in the south and that sweetness never faded away even though she's lived in Manhattan most of her life. What was going on?

Sam drove as fast as he could to NYC. We had an hour to go. I texted his daughter. She called her Grandmother and found out that she was asked to get there soon. Clearly something was terribly wrong. Had Sam's 82 year old mother re-broken her hip? Why didn't she call 9-1-1? Why was she waiting?

When we got to the apartment building, I got a txt. Kate was there. I said we would be right up. I stayed with the car, as Sam ran up to her apartment. A neighbor came out and signaled to me to follow him up the block to take his parking spot. As I was about to try to park the car, I saw Sam in my rearview mirror. I got out of the car. Something was wrong-really wrong.

“It's bad up there. It's a mess...you need to be calm about this, but get up there now. I'll park the car.”

“What happened?”

“She slit her wrists. Prepare yourself. She's alive, but it's a mess. Just get up there.

No one had called 9-1-1. I think everyone was in shock. As much as I wanted to help, I had a bad flashback and my heart started racing. Years ago, my Father took his own life. I didn't want to go through this again, but I went upstairs and walked into the apartment filled with dread and absolute fear.

Poor Kate was kneeling on the floor, next to the sofa. She wasn't saying a word. I could see Sam's Mother's white hair on the arm of the sofa. She must be laying down. I walked over to her and tried to be calm. It was very gorey, but she was conscious. I asked her what she did and she told me that the pain was so bad in her hip that she just couldn't take it any more. That she felt so bad she couldn't do anything any more and didn't want to get in the way. I asked to see her wrists. I saw that the blood was congealing. This was good, but she injured both wrists and up her arms. I talked to her for a few minutes. Everyone was calm, almost matter-of-fact. As if nothing terrible had happened at all. It was surreal.

I told her that we all loved her and it would be so terrible if she left us without letting us even say goodbye...that we didn't know she was hurting so much and that we wished she could have told us so we could help her.

Then I did something weird. I'd bought her a hyacinth. It was in bloom and so fragrant. I held it up to her nose and asked her to smell it. She smiled as she smelled the sweet flowers, even though her skin was as pale as a sheet and her robe was crimson. I reminded her that it was finally spring. That even on our worst day, another day will follow and maybe that day we will smell the sweetness of a flower or see the sunny sky and it will remind us to try to get to the next moment, and the next after that. To not give up.

I calmly told her she needed some help and that I was going to get that for her. She said it was ok, if I really thought she needed help I could do that (as if anyone could to STOP me from calling for help!!!) I left the room and called 9-1-1. In less than 5 minutes, 5 NYPD officers were at the door. A few minutes later, the EMS arrived. I had to stay away from them so I could completely fall apart and cry. I felt so bad for Sam and Kate and his Mom. I worried about Kate, who found her Grandmother just moments before we arrived. I was in a bad place, myself. I couldn't believe it. It was not about me, it was about his Mother and getting her help. I pulled myself together and did whatever I could to help until she was ready to be taken to the hospital.

It was about 10 hours before we could get his Mother admitted. We waited in one room after another. She barely was tended to at all. We had to fight and make a fuss for every little thing. No one was “supposed” to make a decision or do what was needed. I never so much “passing the buck” in my life.

She's stable now. She had to be admitted into the Psych ward, though she is the last person on this Earth I would ever think belongs there. I don't know for sure, but I think she just wanted the pain to stop so badly that maybe this was the only way anyone would really hear her? If that's the case there's a big disconnect that needs to be fixed. Between her Doctor putting her off for almost a week, to even our relationship with her. We all need to learn to stop being polite and start getting “real” with each other.

Since Sunday, my life, Sam's life and Kate's have been turned upside down. There is so much to do, so much to try to figure out. Will Sam's mom ever be able to live alone again? How can we get her help? Who can pay for these things? And who is going to clean up the apartment?

The last question, I answered. I cleaned it up. I didn't want Sam or Kate to have to do that. Even though I've known her for almost 20 years, I was still the person most removed from this situation, so I got to work. I just did what I needed to do. I started to clean away more than just the accident scene. I started to clean everything. I wanted to put life back into that apartment. I wanted the space to feel happy again. In a way, it was like cleaning my Mother's house after she died. It was so nice, freshly painted, re-carpeted, sparkling, even. It made me sad she never go to see it. I hope that Sam's Mother gets to see this. Her home, which was dark and sad, will be clean, fresh and even have lots of color and comfortable places to sit. Perhaps the gloom, washed away, will give his Mother something she's needed in addition to being free of pain, maybe it will give her some joy, some delight in her day to day life?

Perhaps this is the start of her new life? Perhaps it's a new start for all of us?

I don't have the answers. I can tell you I had a breakdown the night after I cleaned things up. I couldn't stop crying. Other than my little birthday lunch, it's been one bad thing after another for more than a year. Every time I feel down, I look to the positive. I get myself back up. You guys lift me back up, heck you catapult me back up! But with all of those blessings, that love and generous support, sadly there is a darkness that remains in my heart. The same thing that drove Sam's mother to do what she did, the same thing that drove my Father to do what he did...it's there, waiting. I am terrified one day I will lose this battle to stay in the sunshine, but I am equally determined to not give up and to help Sam's mother do the same.

One of my friends said something to me once in jest; “Life. It's not for everyone.” He couldn't have been more right.