You are here

Weird

Trying to Move Heaven & Earth Part 2 of 2

When we rescued Tater on June 15th, he’d been very frail. He was already flea covered and underweight and battling an upper respiratory infection. After a bath and good food, some eye meds, he began to perk up. A few days later, we took in his sister, Latte and the two of them stayed together in Maria’s home.

Sick tater 2.jpg
©2012 Maria S. Tater waiting to see the Vet.

Being concerned about FIP, Maria moved Latte into a separate cage. I told her to take Tater to the Vet right away. I didn’t know must about FIP, but I knew it was fatal and I knew diagnosing it isn’t clear cut, either.

Since Sunday morning, Maria and I have been working non-stop. I’m doing research, trying to understand what to do, what to test for, if there’s new research, anything we can do to save Tater’s life. We just lost two kittens! My rescue group is small. We shouldn’t be seeing so much loss, let alone FIP! I know a few others who have never seen it who have been in rescue longer than I have.

Sick tater 3.jpg
©2012 Maria S. Sunday before his Vet visit.

E-mails poured in, comments on Facebook were all supporting Tater and Maria, saying prayers, wishing us all well, sharing their stories of losing kittens to this unforgiving disease. I hated to keep loading up the bad news. I know it takes a toll on readers, but I can’t lie and pretend everything is ok. From the get-go this has been an unvarnished look a life doing cat rescue. It’s a very gut-wrenching thing to write about. I want my happy stories back. I want my miracle-rescues! I don’t know if I can take this pressure after just having lost two kittens.

I’m not going to go into a long description of what FIP is other than to say there are two mains forms of it: “Wet” and “Dry.” One is basically an immune reaction that causes an accumulation of fluid in the belly (wet), though there are more symptoms that I've listed. The other one is neurological in nature (dry). There is no cure. It’s fatal. There are whisperings of advancements in the treatment or cure of FIP, but so far the only hope is one study says they saved 20% of a small number of FIP cats who had the dry form. Steve Dale covered this story using Polyprenyl Immunostimulant. You can read more about it HERE

Sick tater eating.jpg
©2012 Maria S. Back home eating normally.

Some say that if FIP occurred in puppies this would have been cured 20 years ago. Cats have been “second class” animals for far too long.I’m glad that UCDavis is doing a major study and Vets like Dr. Dianne Addie, among others, have been working tirelessly to come up with a cure. /

So where does this leave Tater?

Tater is a sweet, lovely little boy. The Vet felt that he did have FIP but there are no clear diagnostics. Tater’s belly is full of fluid-so much so that an xray couldn’t even see his organs through the liquid. The liquid was slightly tacky-another indicator. We were going to run a titer, but after doing more reading, it was clear we didn’t have time for the results and it wouldn’t really tell us anything. We could run a test on the protein levels in the fluid and that would be a better indicator, but what is the point? Tater’s got a fever, runny eyes and fluid filled abdomen. I couldn’t get a clear answer on what ELSE it might be and I’m not sure other than heart issues, if there would be anything else it could be.

 

There is an urgent need to figure out what to do next and again, I don’t have many answers. I must help Maria, who has to face the difficult question of having to help Tater pass away when he gets too sick. In the meantime I want to move Heaven & Earth and find that needle in the haystack.

 

It doesn’t hurt to try alternative therapies as long as Tater is not suffering badly. I found out about a rescuer who is using a different method, who swears she is having success turning kittens around who have FIP. That she has one kitten in her office who is running around, doing fine.


©2012 Maria S. Tater playing less than 24 hours ago.

Yes, I know. I don’t know her but a trusted friend put me in touch with this person. I know it’s not traditional western medicine, it’s eastern medicine which is based on 4000 years of study. I can’t disregard that and I’ve had success using different treatments for upper respiratory and skin ailments. And if it doesn’t work, Tater dies. Tater is going to die, anyway, so I want to try.

The problem is getting the medicine to Maria in time. It will arrive tomorrow at some point. Tater has been to the Vet again today. I asked them to remove some fluid from his abdomen to buy us time. They only got about 1cc out of him-not nearly enough to make a difference.

After another endless number of texts, calls and e-mails, Maria opted to take Tater home. If he continues to be uncomfortable, she’ll bring him back to the vet to get a shot of Depo (steroids). It’s not ideal, but we have to keep him going until tomorrow. We have to try. If this person says she’s helped quite a few kittens with FIP maybe there is a bizarre chance. Yes, I could be deluding myself. Maybe I’m an idiot. Maybe she didn’t have cats with FIP? Maybe we don’t?

Sick tater tail.jpg
©2012 Maria S. No one can tell me why this would happen to such an amazing little guy. No one can tell me IF he truly has FIP or something else. We're doing our best, all we can think of…but it may not be enough.

The problem is NO ONE KNOWS. The stress of not knowing, of trying to make the BEST choice for Tater, has gotten to Maria and myself. We’ve both broken down, crying. We both are second-guessing our every move. We have to hurry up and accept what may come to pass. We have to make life or death choices. Death doesn’t wait. We’re trying so hard to keep him from coming in the door.

If we could get Tater to live until tomorrow, perhaps this stuff will work or we’ll have to say farewell to a very sweet little guy. I don’t know. All I know is I wish the phone would stop ringing and the questions would stop coming. I need peace in my heart. I need to get some sleep, real sleep. I hate feeling greedy, but I can barely function. After the stress of two weeks of being sick and stressed out of my mind about flying before I flew to Salt Lake for BlogPaws, then the stress of what to do with Opal’s kittens and now the troubles with Tater…it just feels like way too much, but I can’t give up for Tater’s sake. No way.

 

Maria just called me. She found tapeworm segments in Tater’s stool. I do not want to hope that his big belly is the result of one or more parasites. He’s been de-wormed as recently as Friday, but no de-wormer kills all worms.

 

Please, please, please…let this be some freakish or just “normal” parasitic infection combined with an upper respiratory infection that we can CURE!!!!!Please let Tater Tot live a full and happy life.

Celebrating National Hairball Awareness Day 2012

Mona_Lisa Cat Hair.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F Olson (photoshop goofiness only). What if the Mona Lisa was Covered in Cat Hair? Leonardo would have been dismayed having to paint in all that extra detail, but maybe he would have invented the first lint roller?

Let's face it, even I, the self-proclaimed High Priestess of Covered in Cat Hair, am not a fan of having to buy lint roller brush refills by the case, just so I can wear black. Loving cats means being covered in cat hair. It's a given.

But what can your cat do to get rid of all that excess fur if he can't use a lint roller on himself? Try as they might, the best they can manage is to lick it off and they NEVER get all of it-which is why we go around saying cute things like “In my house cat hair is a condiment.” Yecch. What's worse is they often throw up a jam-packed fur-sausage at some point, days or weeks later, usually in the middle of the night when you're trying to sleep! Double-yecch.

Whos that new cat.jpg
©2009 Robin A.F Olson. How many cats are in this photo? Even Nicky isn't certain.

The sad truth is that what once was simply gross or somewhat entertaining (if your nasty mother-in-law or ex-boyfriend-to-be stepped on a newly minted, wet hairball barefoot), belies a potentially serious health issue. Could this be the first sign of Inflammatory Bowel Disease or worse…Lymphoma? Studies are showing a strong link between cats vomiting out hairballs and illness caused by an inappropriate diet!

Furmains.jpg
©2009 Robin A.F Olson. Recycle your cat fur. In the spring the birdies love to line their nests with cat fur. I put my “fur mains” into a suet feeder and the birds can help themselves (and entertain my cats who are watching through the window).

In short, feed your cat an appropriate diet and watch the hairballs disappear. This means, at least a grain free canned food that's high in protein and low in carbs. Ideally you should feed your cat a raw diet. If you do, not only will you rarely ever see your cat struggling to blast out a hairball, their coat will shine, feel like silk and their poo won't smell any more-BONUS! Visit our friends over at Feline Nutrition Education Society for more information on species appropriate diet for your cat.

Da Fur.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F Olson. All this fur only took about an 30 minutes to get off my cats and I could have easily gotten a lot more off a few of them.

The fine folks at FURminator® (say that five times fast) suggest that you brush your cat to prevent hairballs. I think that's part of the solution, but I suggest you try feeding an appropriate diet and monitor the changes. Where I find brushing is the most important aspect of caring for your cat is it gives you an opportunity to develop a deeper bond with them. In general, myself included, I don't think we spend enough one on one time with our cats. Brushing them is a great way to not only get rid of the excess fur, but it's a way for you to show love for your cat without giving them fattening treats.

After a stress filled day, skip the Appletini and kick back with your cat. Give her some loving attention and you'll be rewarded with a purring, confident, happy cat.

Jackson and Teddy.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F Olson. Yes, we were so goal oriented we made TWO Fur-lebrities. Teddy especially liked Jackson Galaxy.

The sweet thing about Furminator's deShedding solutions is that they have a Long Hair deShedding Edge and a Short Hair deShedding Edge. Originally, they had ONE tool and it did NOT work on long hairs at all. In fact it was terrible, but it worked GREAT on short haired cats. Now that they've modified their design, long haired cats can benefit, too. I was supplied with a Long Hair deShedding Edge to use on my super pouffy cats: Spencer, the DOOD and Blitzen and they all enjoyed it (though the DOOD got so excited I had to stop brushing him or he would have taken off my hand at the wrist) These tools are NOT for removing mats, but they ARE for getting the undercoat thinned out without stripping the top coat (though be careful not to overdo it and cause a bald patch!). My favorite is to use both my long haired and short haired tools in the spring or fall when the cats shed their winter coat or summer coat, respectively and it doesn't hurt that these tools are beautifully designed and come in awesome colors.

angelina_jackson_R.Olson.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Didn't you just KNOW this was going to happen?

And then there was the creation of our Angelina Jolie made out of cat fur. As you know, FURminator invited us to have some fun creating a Fur-Lebrity out of cat fur and enter it into a contest that celebrated National Hairball Awareness Day. [See all the behind-the-scenes images of how we created Angelina Meowy on a previous post I wrote] HERE. My friend Irene and I worked very long hours for a week to create her and we were very honored to be chosen as one of the five finalists. Though we did not win first prize, we had a blast and I learned that you can do a lot with cat fur, which gives me more reason to keep brushing my cats.

In fact, I've been so inspired I may start making a life-sized Fur-Lebrity. I'm thinking I would enjoy re-creating Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Of course I'd have to MEET HIM and do some very careful studies, take measurements of his body, so I would get it right. Anyone know his agent?

My sister cat-bloggers have gone over this topic more eloquently than I have and in more detail. Click on, “See More Fur-lebrities Here.” to view a blogroll of other blogs who are participating in National Hairball Awareness Day and who have taken the time to put together some fabulous tips for you .

 

Happy? National Hairball Awareness Day!

 

---------------------------

After careful consideration, from time to time I write a product reviews. If you see it here, it's because, at LEAST I think it's worth you knowing about even if I have an issue with it and, at BEST, I think it's amazing and we should all have one, two or more of whatever it is I'm reviewing. I get NO compensation for writing these reviews, though to write a review I am usually supplied with the item, as I was in this case. This review is MY OPINION, ONLY. The result you experience using this product may differ.

Dining with The Cat Daddy, Jackson Galaxy. Part 3.

I managed to not drive like a moron, get us lost or scare Jackson with the driving skills I learned when I attended the Skip Barber High Performance Driving School in 2000. Sure, I know threshold breaking and about contact patches, but does Jackson need a demonstration in the middle of the night? Taking a curve on an exit ramp at 80 mph is much more exciting during the day, anyway.

map to cvs b copy.jpg
All roads lead to CVS.

We found a CVS, a different location, but part of the same chain I’d been in that morning to buy mascara. We were the only ones in the place other than a lone employee. It was surreal shopping under the painful glare of fluorescent lights with the snack deprived Cat Daddy.

Jackson had the hood up on his jacket to keep his head warm. I looked at him from a distance and tried to imagine how I’d feel if I was shopping and looked up and saw him without knowing who he was. Would I swoon? Be intrigued? I think he would have scared the [censored] out of me. He is so tall and was so bundled up, all I could see was his face, dark beard and sharp-lined glasses, his dark eyes darting back and forth over the choices in the snack food area. But then, Jackson walked over to the aisle where the “As Seen on TV” stuff was located and mischeviously said that “Furniture Fix,” which are interlocked plastic strips you stick under the cushion of a “blown out” sofa or chair, actually work. See? Never judge a book by his cover.

I told him I used plywood and it just made it feel like the sofa was blown out and the cushion was on the floor, but was glad to know that FF actually works (no, that is NOT a JG Productions endorsement—sheesh!).

Then I pointed at the box for Pajama Jeans, which are my new favorite thing to make jokes about now that Snuggies are passé. I wonder what the world is coming to when people are so lazy they can’t be bothered to take off their pajamas and get dressed. Wait! What was I saying! I live in my pj’s half the time. Who sees me? Maybe I should get some Pajama Jeans? At least they were dry!

Pajama jeans.jpg
Every fashionista's worst nightmare, but they come in “skinny” AND “boot cut.” How cool is that?

We walked up and down the aisles and looked at the cavalcade of crap: chips and nuts and candy, oh my. We made jokes, talked about what we liked or hated. We both liked Cap’n Crunch® when we were kids. Jackson chose something salty (pretzels, what I always get, too!) so I told him he had to get something sweet to balance it and he agreed. We both sneered at the Oreo®’s (Sorry, Nabisco®). Then Jackson pointed out that peanut butter stuffed pretzels are ALWAYS sold in tubs, never in a small bag or box. I pretended to cry and said that from now on, every time I saw those stuffed pretzels I’d think of him. Then I realized “there’s many a true word said in jest.”

Jackson gathered a few items and went to the check out. I used my Jewish super powers (my Mother was Jewish so she handed her powers down to me before she died) to guilt him into not buying RedBull® for the next day's recording session out of fear of what that buzz would do to his digestion, let alone blood sugar (he wisely chose water).

As we stood at the checkout, the young man at the register didn’t realize who was right in front of him. I looked at the kid’s nametag. It read; “Jackson, ”so of course I started frantically poking Jackson’s arm to get his attention to look at the name tag and he whispered to me that he already noticed and that I was slow! What a joker. Gotta love that guy.

double jacksons_ret_sm.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Jackson with his “mini-me” that a volunteer named Chris Fetcho made for Kitten Associates. It's created out of “furminated” cat hair, wool and a maxi pad. Yes, there's a maxi under his shirt…under the faux-Jackson's shirt! Sheesh.

The short drive back to the hotel went just as smoothly as the drive to CVS. Why I didn’t floor it and kidnap Jackson so I could have him all to myself is beyond me. But no, I had to be a good girl and go back to the hotel when I had the chance of a lifetime. I blew it! I’ve never been in jail before nor had a reason to be. I'm such a twit!

Poor Jackson was half asleep in the car. The jet-lag had kicked in full force and I knew it was time to say goodbye.

I pulled up in front of the hotel, killed the engine and got out. Jackson came over to me and we looked into each other’s eyes. Jackson removed his glasses and blinked slowly, making that soft eyes expression he uses to soothe naughty cats on his show. I responded to his gesture by taking off my glasses and giving him soft eyes in return. I felt a purring sensation begin to rise from the depths of my soul. What in the world was going on? Was this guy some sort of Svengali with women, too?

I lost control of my fingers. My glasses slipped to the ground with a “clink.” We fell into a passionate lip-lock, oblivious to the fact that it was [censored] cold outside. His beard tickled my neck as I got lost in his commanding embrace. My knees turned to jelly, but he held tightly onto me. Our bodies started to turn together, as if on a giant lazy-susan. There was no one else, no TV show or book tour to worry about, just us spinning in circles fading in and out of soft focus perfection…

…Really? Come on.

We gave each other a big hug and that was it. I didn’t even score a peck on the cheek, [censored][censored][censored], but I can dream, can’t I? This is MY story about dinner with Jackson so I can write whatever I want!

I think we were both too tired to say much more. I would have liked to tell him good luck with everything and thank you for dinner (thank you!) and a million more things, but I had an hour and a half drive to get back home, so with great reluctance I got back into my old car, I mean my COOL Black BMW (pwned it!) and pointed it west as Jackson’s figure disappeared, the Lobby doors closing behind him.

At least I’d been able to snag Jackson’s yellow wallet during the hug as a souvenir. His Driver's License is a trip! There's a black wavy mustache drawn over his face in the I.D. photo.

---------TUESDAY 3/28/12-----------

I got home at 12:30 AM. The drive along I-95 was spent following an ambulance running lights and sirens. Though I stayed far back from the vehicle, in a way it felt like I was getting an escort home, so I pretended I was a high ranking Government Official (officially tired).

I’d had a cup of tea while Jackson and I shared dessert earlier that night. (OMG I SHARED dessert with Jackson…swoon!) I’m very sensitive to caffeine and only have it, at most, once a day and well before 5pm, otherwise I can’t sleep. I chose to have tea late, knowing full well I’d have to be awake to drive home.

Then I realized how stupid I was. I should have said I too sleepy to drive home! “Oh Mr. Jackson, please pity me. I am so tired and weary and have nowhere to rest my porn-star-hairdood-head and I cannot afford to stay in this luxurious hotel and I am so far from my home. Oh, Mr. Jackson can you help me? I noticed there is a mighty big bed in your room.” Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Why aren’t I more conniving, or at least catty? [censored][censored][censored].

So there I lay, in my own bed, with dry (yay!) pajamas on, my porn star hair getting flat, covered in cats. My heart was racing from the adrenaline and the caffeine. I tossed. I turned. I got up to pee and stepped in a puddle of cat urine that was on the floor by the toilet. I saw one of the cats sitting in the doorway. It was Pee-tunia. I know she did it: the little [censored]. I sighed. It was too late at night to yell, plus WWJD? He wouldn't yell at the cat so I cleaned everything up and went back to bed. I tossed some more. I kept reliving the evening. I told myself to cut it out, to focus on the next day. Some folks from the local media were going to be here to document my rescue group, Kitten Associates, receiving it's biggest donation ever-2500 cans of cat food from HALO. I’d have to be fresh and on point for them. See, Jackson, I’m famous, too. Okay, not like you are, obviously, but…but…but…okay, maybe having my photo in The Newtown Bee and The Danbury News-Times does not qualify me for being “famous, ” but it’s something.

Jacksons Card Olson_sm.jpg
The only physical proof, other than a beard hair I found in my car that this night really happened.

I couldn’t sleep a wink. I tried to rest. I knew I was going to pay for it later. I’d told Jackson if he wanted to hang out while he was in town, to let me know. Since there was a slim chance I’d see him again, it was another reason not to want to sleep. I wanted the day to get going so I could find out if I’d see him again; the heck with the Press!

-------------later that morning------------

I did my best to get up and go through my normal routine. I got ready for the Media to arrive, but I was so tired I didn’t do everything I wanted to do before they got to my house. I called Paula at the freight company, expecting her to tell me that the shipment would arrive some time in the afternoon. It was 11am. She said the driver should be there by Noon, the latest. NOON?!! Oh no!

I sent out a few quick emails and made some calls, letting everyone know about the time change. They all made plans to arrive, but would miss the actual delivery. I heard something up on the street. I looked up. The truck was at the end of the driveway, on the street. Oh [censored]! It was 11:15!

I ran to the front door and opened it and almost walked into the driver. He apologized and told me the bad news. He would not drive his truck down the dirt driveway and drop off by the garage, so he’d have to drop the 1100 pound load about 200 yards away, leaving us to have to unpack the palette, load up a car, drive down the driveway, unpack the car, repeat four times, then re-load the palette with 290 CASES of CAT FOOD once it was moved into the garage. UGH!

I’ll cover more of this story and complain about My Backache From Hell later…back to Jackson…

Actually, there really isn’t a lot more to say about Jackson. I was still “high” from meeting him, but the reality that it was over and done and that I probably wouldn’t see him again, either ever or, at best at a Conference some day, left me feeling broken-hearted. I realize it’s stupid to feel like that, but I was greedy. I’ve been yearning to have fun for so long that when I got a taste of it I wanted more.

That the “fun” was with the acme of Cat Behaviorists, as well as a TV star was almost more than I deserved, but my birthday is in a few days, so I gave myself a break from feeling guilty.

It’s not realistic to think that Jackson is available to be my buddy, especially now, with so much on his plate for a very long time to come. If we met under different circumstances maybe we’d be able to hang out and get to know each other, but we live 3000 miles apart. I tried to be happy that anything happened at all, but it just reminded me of how sad I’ve been for so long that I wondered if maybe I should have just stayed home in the first place.

Are you [censored] kidding me? Miss out on meeting Jackson Galaxy? Never.

After the Press left and the palette was moved, I went to bed. It was 4:25 pm. If Jackson was going to contact me about getting together, it would be within the next hour. I set my alarm for 30 minutes, not wanting to miss anything. Of course as soon as I laid down, I got texted by my ex-sister-in-law, who I adore, and who wanted to know if we could get together later in the week. I didn’t want to talk. I had the shakes from being so tired. I wanted to sleep, but I stayed awake and texted her for a while. I kept checking my email, just in case Jackson contacted me, but nothing new appeared in my inbox.

I re-set the alarm for 6pm, knowing in my heart that I wasn’t going to hear from him. I didn't sleep at all so I got back up and moped around the house. At 7:30pm I got a note saying he was hunkering down. There was simply too much going on with the show and the book and the…so he was going to stay in for the night. The Inn sent some chocolate covered strawberries to his room, making him feel like a “rock star.”

I wrote him back and said I understood and wistfully told him to save me a strawberry.

I went downstairs and ate a scoop of ice cream for my dinner. A second day had passed and I’d hardly eaten, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t hungry. I was just sad. I had a good cry, then washed my face and went to bed. I have to face my boring life and go back to worrying about getting my taxes done, how I was going to pay my mortgage, when I was going to get my car fixed. I didn’t want to go back to all that without first promising myself I’d work on figuring out why I was so sad and how I could make changes to enjoy my life more.

I would pick myself back up, gosh darn it, just like in a 1950's musical. I’d focus on my work and focus on my words. I'd rescue more kittens. I'd wash that man right out of my (porn star) hair. I’d had a very nice run of good news after a very long drought. Meeting the Cat Daddy was as wonderful, if not better, than I imagined. He’s probably as good of a people-whisperer as he is with cats.

It’s a delicious feeling to get swept away by the thrill of having a heart’s desire realized, but it’s also bittersweet when it has to come to an end.

At least we’ll always have CVS and peanut butter stuffed pretzels.

Galaxy Wedding Olson.jpg

©2012 Robin A.F. Olson & Jackson Galaxy. This is how I would have preferred to end this post, but unicorns are tough to come by this time of year. Honestly, are we a cute couple or what?

As fate would have it, I got another email, but this one wasn’t from Jackson and what it said made my Grinch-sized smile grow three times larger. But what could possibly top this? We'll see my friends. We'll see.

------------------------

A serious note: To all of you who one day have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Galaxy, do me a favor won't you? Treat him kindly. Protect him from stress. Don't ask too much of him right now. Give him some breathing room so he can stay clear, keep his Cat Mojo intact, stay sweet. The kitties need him and so do we.

CatDaddy_FINALplus_xsm.jpg

For every copy of CAT DADDY pre-ordered before May 10, Tarcher/Penguin will donate $1.00 to the cause of saving shelter cats. To make your preorder count, simply e-mail your receipt (or a photo/scan of your receipt) to: CatDaddyBook@gmail.com.

My Broccoli-Obsession

broc.jpg
©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Excerpt from My Broccoli-Obsession

That's it. the DOOD is insane! I caught him grabbing at one of the plants, trying to eat it. I remember what Jackson Galaxy said before I started to scold the cat; “with every NO, provide a YES.” So after I got DOOD away from the plant, I warmed up some broccoli for him as his “yes” and the rest is history (repeating itself).

I've never seen a cat go so crazy over anything as DOOD is for broccoli. He makes this growly-purry noise while he's chewing. I can't help but laugh every time he does it. Of course I did give the other cats a chance to enjoy broccoli, too, but none of them wanted any-not that the DOOD would let them near it!


©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. My Broccoli-Obsession

Broccoli? Really?

My Broccoli: the Sequel

the DOOD is up to his usual crazy antics in this sequel to the smash viral video: My Broccoli.

Does the DOOD have a secret “green” tooth? First I caught him shoving his head into an open bag of cooked broccoli and now he has his sights set on another vegetable-victim! What's wrong with this obligate-carnivore?

My Broccoli the sequel copy.jpg

Maybe the DOOD is a new breed of cat or maybe he'll just eat anything put in front of him? Is the DOOD discerning in his tastes or disturbing? You be the judge!


©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. “My Broccoli: the Sequel”

Make sure you turn up the volume so you can hear the rumbling growls as the DOOD protects his valuable resource from the foster kittens.

The Unspeakable Horror

I was alone as the edge of darkness grew near. There are rumors that my house is haunted but I never wanted to believe them. This time I started to wonder if maybe they were right. Maybe I should contact Jason & Grant of Ghost Hunters? I heard strange noises-sure it could have been one of the cats, but this was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. The violence of it..the horror.

Box.jpg
It looks so innocent, but imagine the terror contained inside!

I was frozen by my own fear, unable to do much beyond grab this unbelievable footage in the hopes that one day, should I be found dead on the floor, that someone would use this as evidence that indeed, something is going on in my home…something unspeakable.


©2012 Robin A.F. Olson. Watch if you dare.

I'm still shaking as I write this. I'm not sure if I can take it much longer. It's clear I need help.

Foster Cat Math: Plus 4, Minus 2, Plus 4 Equals YIKES!

Part One of Two.

It seems as though regardless of when I chose to rescue a cat, when it goes into foster care, what day it's transported or when I pick it up, that everything comes together at the same time, even if the rescues happened weeks apart! It's very tough to figure out when to rescue more cats, with the hope that the foster cats you currently have will be long gone by the time the new fosters arrive.

Truffles.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Goodbye Sweet Truffles! You're such a sweetie pie!

After almost three months of foster care here, Amberly's remaining two kittens, Blaze and Truffles were adopted together! They went with a divorced dad and his three kids. What a GREAT family! I really liked them a lot. Dad is into feeding the kitties a raw diet, so I was extra thrilled! The kids were terrific-sweet, nice, cute. I knew they'd all have fun together, but I didn't know if the girls would even be getting adopted until Friday at 5pm when I knew full well that on Saturday at 9am a transport was arriving with Bob's Pumpkin Patch on board! Talk about cutting it CLOSE! If Truffles and Blaze didn't get adopted, I'd be in BIG TROUBLE! I'd have no room for the new arrivals! What would I do?

Lady Blaze.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Blazey, you left a big pawprint on my heart, even if you DO have the loudest MEOW ever!

I really lucked out. Blaze and Truffles showed well. Being alone in the room for two weeks helped them blossom. Once the kids started to play with them the kittens forgot to be shy and began ripping around the room, clearly enjoying all the attention. Dad looked on, impressed.

Their new family brought their old dog crate. It was enormous and barely fit up the staircase. I gave each of the girls a kiss, realizing this was “it,” time for another good bye. My heart felt very heavy, but it was mixed with great relief. I only had a few hours to clean up the room. I was already thinking about what I needed to do to get it ready for Bobette and crew. In a way, it made the pain of closing this chapter a lot easier. Another story was about to begin and I needed to get ready. I'd have to cry later.

For the record, Amberly's family was one of my favorites. I loved their story, their crazy coloring, their stunning copper eyes, their big, loving hearts. I'm jealous of their adopters. Each one of these kittens and their mama were superb. Seeing them every day was a great joy and I will always have a place in my heart that belongs to them.

Just before this post went live, I got a note from their adopter. He wrote: “I just wanted to let you know that Blaze and Truffles are doing great...we are all enjoying their company...they are 2 of the sweetest kittens I've ever met. Both are very affectionate but have no problem showing their true colors when they want to play or are letting you know that they are hungry...the poster of Blaze's face must have been taken when she was hungry...she's hilarious. They are acclimating to all areas of the house.”

And all this came to pass because Maria went to a tag sale early one summer morning and found a skinny cat laying in the road in desperate need of help. It's been quite the amazing journey.

--------------------------------------

The Angel Babies are here!

Transport.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Loaded up and headed for Connecticut.

Sure, I adopted out two kittens, but I'd already taken on the four Angel Babies; Vash, Jazz, Justin and Princess. It's been so hectic around here that I didn't even get to let you all know how that's been going.

Just Jazz.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Jazz (now named, Blizzard).

Sam and I drove to Pennsylvania to meet up with Izzy and her husband, Mark. They rescued six white orphaned kittens when they were just a few days old. I have to hand it to this couple. Somehow they managed to bottle feed six kittens without any of them dying. Amazing! You can read more about their background before the came to my home, HERE.

Princess laying down.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Princess de Winter relaxes on her new cat tree.

Of the six kittens, two were spoken for, so I agreed to take the remaining four; three are boys and one is a girl. They all have a smudge of gray on their heads. One has a big swash, one has two smaller ones, one has three and the girl has hardly a gray hair. Can I tell them apart after a week? NO!

Justing on my leg.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Justin (now named Snowball) is quite the love bug.

What I can tell about them is the bottle feeding helped them become VERY affectionate and easy to handle. These cats will reach up to me to be held, jump on my back or shoulders, call to me to pick them up. They like to be held like a baby. They love to play. If you ever watched Star Trek: The Next Generation, they're like the BORG. They seem to have one brain and four bodies. The react the same way, at the same time, when I call them to eat or jiggle a toy at them. It's as though their thoughts are controlled by a Mothership somewhere circling overhead.

Jazz looking down.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bizzard is watching for a chance to jump on me.

It's very easy to love these cats. They're simply adorable. I'm shocked to no end that they don't have 20 or 30 adoption applications each, but I barely have any for them and it's been a few weeks since they've been on Petfinder.

I did a test and decided to change their names to something snowy/wintery to see if that would help get the interest up. So far no change, but it's only been a few days. Of course, I couldn't tell the cats apart before and with the name change, so I might as well confuse myself even further. I'm toying with the idea of dying them different colors (hee hee) or perhaps it would be wiser and I'd get fewer nasty comments if I just put a collar on two of them? I need to print out a cheat sheet to hang in their room. I've never had this problem before!

Stretch.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Stretch Princess!

I have a lot of guilt about these kittens. My only place for them is my guest bathroom. The laundry room is attached to the bathroom and I can open the door and give them a very little bit of extra room. The problem is that they can get behind the washer and dryer and next thing I know, they've unhooked the dryer hose from the vent in the wall. This is a problem and very annoying to have to fix.

I did my best to block off their access to that area, but the little turds can get back there no matter what I did. Sam had to re-hook up the dryer. Lucky for me he wasn't too chapped about having to do it and it was a good excuse to attach the new clamp for the dryer hose. It should hold more tightly and be less easy for the cats to disconnect-famous last words.

Tower of White Kittens.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. The DOOD's old cat tree is really coming in handy!

Again, I thought I blocked their access to the dark space behind the washer and dryer. I left the room so they could run around. I was in my bedroom putting laundry away. I heard a funny sound. I heard it again. I heard a small cry. Oh great. I knew what it was.

I went back into the laundry room. I counted heads. One, two, three...three...where is four? I looked between the washer and dryer. There was a big metal divider from a dog crate folded into the space. I pushed it back towards the far wall, thinking the cats could not get behind it. There, hanging by his paws on the divider was Snowball. I looked at him. He looked at me and meowed. I gave him a dirty look, bent down and lifted him up by his shoulders and whispered into his ears; “You dumbass.”

Photo interruptus.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Um, excuse me?

He didn't seem to mind my name-calling. I put him down and tried yet again to block off the area. If I couldn't manage it, I'd have to keep them in the bathroom, but at six months of age, these are far from tiny kittens and they need room to stretch out. I hated myself for not having a bigger space for them. I really wanted to just let them out, into the rest of the house, but I knew it would start World War III with the rest of my cats.

Jazz and Princess.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Blizzard and Princess.

I kept trying and failing, but at least the dryer hose stayed attached. Every time I opened the door to their space, a new pile of stuff they'd gotten into was all over the floor. I store some of the extra towels and bedding I use for foster cats on a high shelf. They would climb onto the shelf and pull everything off it onto the floor. After a while I just gave up. They have a nest on the floor made up of an old comforter and a few throw rugs and it's far from their litter pan. I mention this because one morning I went into their room and somehow they'd taken a towel from the floor and threw it into their litter pan. One of them had explosive diarrhea in the pan, but somehow it was tossed about 3 feet up the wall and all over the wall! Another cat had vomited while up on the countertop. The pile landed on the floor and they all must have run through it, then all over the room!

And no, I did not harm any kitten in any way, though I did re-think what I was doing fostering these nut-jobs!

Three Kitties.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. They look so innocent...ha ha ha ha ha!

If they weren't so darn CUTE and lovey-dovey, it would have been a lot harder to scrub the walls down at 7:30AM or not be tweaked to realized the bits of paper on the floor were actually cardboard that once belonged to the top of the box the baby scale is stored in. I could see tiny tooth impressions all over the box. One of them must have sat on the box and just gone to town, chomping and chewing the edges of the box. Really, just how bored are these guys?

Tonight I dropped way too much money on an automatic laser pointer thing. You turn it on and it wiggles a laster painter beam all over the place for about 15 minutes, then it shuts off. At least if I couldn't spend hours with the kittens, it would be something I could do for them a few times a day between feeding visits and lovey-dovey visits.

More than anything, I'd like to see these cats get adopted, even if secretly (okay not so secretly now) I would love it if they stayed here (but don't I always say that?). They're so marvelous I know anyone who meets them would love them right away. Wednesday I'm taking them to a photo studio to meet Chris from Greengirlz and to star in a photo shoot! I thought our Holiday Card should have something to do with having a White Christmas, but after what I've seen these cats do, I just wonder how wise it is to take them somewhere with a backdrop they can climb and props they can chew. I'm glad Chris is a Professional Pet Photographer. Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too. They're cats. Professional or not, cats are going to be cats. Good luck with wrangling them, Chris! I'm going to just stand back and watch you work!

I wonder if we should just be happy if we can get a photo of them after they're exhausted from ripping apart the studio? Gee, I sure wish I had a video camera all of a sudden.

Tomorrow...part two...Bobette and Family arrive and with them more questions about Bobette's limping and what we can do to help her. Oh yeah, and I didn't even tell you about MY FIRST SPAY, the companion to MY FIRST NEUTER. That is a fun story. Oh yeah...yikes!

Dexter's Dark Passenger

Note from Robin: CREEPY PHOTO BELOW, BUT NOTHING GORY! You have been warned.

---------------------------

Terri Royal has a big heart. She loves cats and has been particularly touched by the plight of feral cats in her community of northeastern Georgia. Terri's not one to look the other way when a cat needs help. She and her husband, Warren, always seem to have a foster cat in their home, in addition to their five cats, all of whom were rescues.

Terri is the caretaker for a number of feral cat colonies. She makes sure they get fed and that they're all spayed or neutered. Once in awhile a friendly stray comes along and she helps that cat find a good home, too

A few weeks ago, Terri spotted a tiny kitten when she was putting food out for the feral colony. From her husband, Warren's email to me, he described the situation:

dexter before surgery.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. Dexter, so sick, but what is wrong with you little guy?

He lived in the bushes behind Target and today when she went to feed them, he walked out and was very lethargic- horrible respiratory infection, dripping from nose, mouth, and eyes. He was blowing bubbles from his nose, and sneezing terribly.

He was too weak to eat, or to struggle, so Terri just picked him up and put him in a small box. He's very young- 6-8 weeks, and starving. We think he has 2 more siblings in similar condition.

Dexter after surgery.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. Just after surgery.

She [Terri] took him to the emergency vet, who gave him fluids, vitamins, combo test, and antibiotic shot, and some milk replacement. I had to leave to catch a flight (on it now) but he's in great hands with Terri. She took him home, set him up in a bedroom upstairs, with water, a little warm bed, and plenty of food and the milk. (she just told me he LOVES it!). He is resting very comfortably and is purring when she pets him- he seems to love affection.

Terri named the kitten, Dexter. He weighed only 1 lb, 4 oz.

Dexter wasn't doing so well. Although he loved affection and wanted to eat, he had constant, severe breathing problems. He had great difficulty eating. It would take him 30 minutes to eat a small amount of food. Terri gave him milk replacement, which he could eat more comfortably, but the poor little tabby was very ill.

Warren writes: And he would start sneezing - I mean REALLY sneezing - sometimes 20 times in a row, violently. We would find blood spots afterwards. The vets thought that his nose was just really irritated from all the sneezing, maybe a tiny vessel rupture, and that was causing the bleeding. But also he could barely breathe - he was always breathing very loudly, and sometimes mouth-breathing.

The Vet said to let Dexter rest. Give it time. Thank goodness Terri and Warren didn't heed the advice. They'd seen cats with upper respiratory before. After another day passed, they were sure something else going on, so they took Dexter back to the Vet.

One of Dexter's nostrils was bigger than the other. Nothing remarkable about that, but it was odd. What happened next was horrifying. When the Vet looked into Dexter's nose, SOMETHING LOOKED BACK...and was MOVING INSIDE DEXTER'S SINUS!

wolf worm.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. THE WOLF WORM.

Warren wrote:

This little kitten had a 1-inch+ WOLF WORM living in his nose.

It was so big that the hardened vet techs cried when they saw it and what this poor kitten had endured.

They could not believe that something SO BIG had been in this poor kitten's nose. They saved it for me in formaldehyde so I can see it when I get home - but they're saying it's like the size of a large garden grub-worm, they have never seen anything like it. He must have filled up his sinus or partially gone down his throat, his nose was so tiny -

No one expected that Dexter would have to have surgery, especially to remove a Wolf Worm!. Simply tugging it out was NOT an option. Wolf Worms are Bot Fly larvae. Removing just a piece of them results in a horrific anaphylactic (allergic) reaction and terrible infection which could easily go to Dexter's brain.

But would Dexter survive the surgery?

Warren writes: But since we didn't know this, Terri had fed him that morning, before the vet visit. And when they figured out what it was, they had to anesthetize him, which was very risky because he had eaten. (We have lost other ferals during routine spay/neuters under similar circumstances and had been heartbroken). But we felt that it was an emergency, and we had to go ahead and cross our fingers and hope for the best. They waited a few hours to make it a little safer - and while he was down, we went ahead and neutered him.

In the hammock.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. Getting some rest.

The Vet carefully removed the Wolf Worm. It was no longer Dexter's Dark Passenger. Now it was safely preserved in a jar while Dexter began the long road to recovery.

Warren writes: He is much better now, his breathing is completely clear - but there may be some residual damage. They say he may always have issues with sneezing, and his nose may be permanently enlarged. But we just don’t know. He is very happy, and playing, and eating like a HORSE.

dexter and the squirrel.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. Squirrel!

Since he has been with us, even with the worm, he has gone from 1 lb 4 oz to 2 lb 4 oz , mostly on the milk replacement. But I think now the will really start to thrive...

dexter and abby.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. Making friends with Abby

Dexter will be ready to find a forever home in a few weeks. Though they struggle with the idea of keeping Dex, Terri and Warren know they can't help more cats in need if they have too many cats of their own. It's not an easy decision to make, but with Dexter's loving personality and winning ways, we feel sure his family will find him soon.

Dexter growing bigger.jpg
©2011 Warren Royal. Used with Permission. .

If you're interested in learning more about Dexter or want to adopt him, please contact me directly at info(@)coveredincathair.com and I'll put you in touch with Dexter's family. Transportation can be arranged. Dexter is located in Northeastern Georgia.

The Wolf Worm is not available for adoption.

Dark Days-To the Light

Thursday I met the Neurologist. MRI was fine, but he wanted me to take a drug that might make me suicidal!...As if I wasn’t already! I filled the prescription, but figured now wasn’t the time to try taking it.

I borrowed an air mattress from my friend, Erich. The idea was to put the mattress next to the fireplace. Maybe we could keep warm that way? I went to the warming center, as I had done each day prior. I was getting into a routine, making sure we had water for flushing, finding a way to keep sort of clean, getting the cats fed. We had to stop feeding the raw food. The meat was spoiling, even though I filled the fridge with bags of ice. I was able to find a pet food store that was open, so we were okay there. The latest rumors had the power going back on in two more days. We just had to push through.

Bed.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. A cozy, bouncy bed by the fire.

It was a tough day. We HAD to clean ALL the food out of the refrigerator and freezer and take it to a special location to get rid of it. Sam and I hated throwing out good food. We decided to throw out certain things, but others we decided to toss over the deck, into the woods. At least the wild animals would get something to eat.

Goodbye Food.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Goodbye food.

I stood on the deck, a deep frown etched across my face, I tossed 10 POUNDS of raw ground meat out into the woods. As Sam and I discarded more food, we both grew more and more upset. Goodbye to the meatloaf leftovers that were going to be used for a second dinner. Goodbye to the big turkey breast we were going to roast and use for a few meals. Goodbye to all that cat food—and all the wonderful frozen goodies we got from Trader Joe’s the day before the storm. We filled up Sam’s car with bags of discarded, spoiling food. What was left; a few bottles of very old champagne I refused to throw away and a container of lemonade. The inside of the fridge looked like someone got murdered inside it. The cat food meat had dripped blood all over the shelves and dripped into the drawers. It was going to be a big chore to get it cleaned ONCE the POWER WAS RESTORED!

Trunk full of spoiled food.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Loaded up with spoiled food. Off to the dump.

There was more news about the power restoration. CL&P’s response to the storm damage was slow because they FAILED TO PAY the many utility crews that came up to fix the damage after Hurricane Irene hit! No WONDER repairs were going so slowly! They had to find other utility crews to help out and many were from much further away. Also, the out-of-state crews couldn’t do a THING unless someone from CL&P signed off on what they were going to do, first. They were protecting their ass-big time. I heard of one crew just sitting around for FIVE HOURS while they waited for the CL&P staff to show up—the whole time that crew was getting paid for not working!

Spoiled Food.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Then, more bad news. The news reported that restoration might take until WEDNESDAY, a full TEN DAYS after the storm. At that point I was so worn down I didn’t care. The snow was just about gone. Tree crews were opening up roads. Downtown Newtown had power. Then some districts got power. Everywhere I went people were asking each other if they had power yet. You could tell the “haves” from the “have-nots” by the gleam in their eye and their not-so-train-wrecked-hair. Our road wasn’t even open yet, so I figured it was going to be Wednesday before we were restored.

By Thursday night we were flat out exhausted from constantly having to drive somewhere to get warm, to get water, to get a meal, to charge a phone, to get something to burn in the fireplace. Anne and her family got dinner early, forgetting we were coming over. It was a blessing in disguise because we just wanted to eat and go to bed.

Although we don’t normally go out for dinner, let alone to an expensive restaurant, I told Sam I was desperate to break our miserable routine of eating lousy chinese food and pizza and have something great for dinner. Juice boxes weren’t cutting it any more. We found a place and served delicious seafood. Although we looked like a homeless couple that hit the lottery, as we sipped Pellegrino in the amber-lit room, we were content. I was surprised at how doing something “normal” helped condition my frayed nerves. Sam and I were getting along all right. We went home and inflated the air mattress. The cats loved it. I warned Sam not to leave it unattended. I knew the cats would pee on it. I couldn’t sleep on the mattress. It was really bouncy and I can’t sleep if the room is brightly lit-like by a FIRE. I opted to drag my butt to bed. Sam got the mattress by the fire. I was numb to the routine of sleeping alone in my hat, gloves and layers, so it was fine with me.

IMG_6767.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Scallops, risotto and broccoli rabe.

Friday morning. Day seven. We got the cats fed. Sam and I were quiet around each other. I was trying to be calm, not freak out over the way the house was getting dirty and that the rugs needed vacuuming. I looked over at the air mattress and noticed a huge dark spot on the down comforter. Pee. I told Sam to put that mattress away and now it’s been soiled. I tried to hold my tongue, because I usually never say; “I told you so!” But I was worn down so I blurted it out, then added now we'd have to buy a NEW air mattress for Erich! Great! I was so angry. I was not paying for this error! I’d priced air mattresses before we found one to borrow and they were well into the hundreds of dollars! Just what we needed—more headaches.

We drove to the Library since they were open again and had wifi, too. I went online and curtly told Sam I found a replacement mattress and all he had to do was order it. Thankfully it was the exact same one that was ruined and it cost under $100. One problem solved, but the problem of our inability to get along, remained.

I really wanted to write my blog, but I just couldn’t concentrate. It was too awkward to write on my iPad, so I took out pen and paper and scribbled some thoughts down as best I could. I was so wiped out. I really needed to do laundry and get clean again. The local laundromat was going to open soon, so that was great news. My dear friend, Connie called me and she had power restored. She lives a mile from my house, but every time she has power, we lose it and vice versa, so we must be on a different grid. She said we could shower at her house and watch TV. I was happy to imagine I could be clean soon. For someone who watches as much TV as I do, that was something I wasn’t missing.

Redemption.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. I love you guys from Ameren, Missouri!

It was another sunny day. I was so grateful for that. The sun felt good on my face. Sam and I packed up to go to Connie’s house. We decided to check to see if our road was open yet. To our surprise we saw three utility trucks from Ameren, a power company based in MISSOURI! I should have asked them when they were going to be done, but I was so shocked and happy to see them that I just smiled and waved as we passed by. I figured we wouldn’t get power for another day, which was well ahead of the Wednesday deadline, yet I’d been so disappointed with everything else that I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

We got to Connie’s and visited with her kitties, a few of them were cats I rescued from the south. It was good to see them again, but weird to be there without Connie around.

SAVED copy.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

We took showers and were getting the wifi working when my phone rang. It was my neighbor, Dawn. She said she wasn’t home, but that a neighbor called her and said the POWER HAD BEEN RESTORED!

What? You’re kidding?!!

Sam and I stopped what we were doing and got packed up and out of Connie’s house in a flash. I was bouncing in my seat in the car. Sam couldn’t drive fast enough. It was still light out so it was tough to see if any electric lights were on. We’d been crushed days before because we drove home and saw lights on in the homes just a few doors down from ours, but our lights were still out.

As Sam pulled down the driveway, I saw lights on in the house!

As I opened the front door, I felt WARM kiss of heat on my cheeks. The heat was ON! The cats were milling around excitedly. They knew something was going on, too.

Welcome Visitors copy.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Crews picking up tree debris down the road from our house.

We turned off unneeded lights, turned up the heat, then got straight to work cleaning. We each chose chores to do. Sam started on cleaning the fridge. I said I’d join him after I did a few other things. I scrubbed the toilets, started doing a ton of laundry, vacuumed, took down all the candles and cleaned up the fallen bits of wax. I closed the doors to the fireplace, making certain to close the flue. We got the dishwasher started. I put away all the paper plates and cups and warmed up some food for the cats. I was so very happy to be cleaning! Yes me, happy, CLEANING!

It took a few HOURS to scrub down the fridge. Sam and I worked together. While we were cleaning, Sam said he could fix a few things. He asked if I wanted him to take the ice maker out of the inside of the freezer. I never had it hooked up to the water line because I didn’t want to hear the device running all night. It just took up space. I had no idea you could remove it! Sam removed a few screws and the unit popped right out. Without it we added a lot of freezer space. Once we cleaned the inside, we pulled the fridge away from the wall. I vacuumed it out, then mopped the floor. We wiped down the outside of the fridge and restacked cans of cat food on the top of it.

Sam stood with the door open to the refrigerator compartment. Even though the thing was old, it looked like it has a new lease on life. Sam was clearly admiring his work. He remarked he didn’t want to put anything back inside it again. I agreed that I never wanted to overload it again as we had before. I wanted to use what we bought and not buy so much we don’t know or use what we have. We went back to Trader Joe’s and did a modest amount of shopping. We got some milk and butter and juice and eggs. Even with all that the fridge still looked empty. That’s fine by me. We don’t need so much.

Fridge.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Pretty!

The cable was out for another two days. It came back on just in time for the good Sunday night shows on HBO and Showtime. Our wireless wifi was working, but I had no interest in turning on my computer—gone was my addiction to checking Facebook every 10 seconds. I dragged my feet. I didn't want to be hooked on technology's teat any more.

I was shell shocked and still very tired. I had liked the quiet evenings, just reading by the fire. I liked something about not having all these electronic devices to cling to. If we’d had heat and running water it would have been a vacation of sorts, well, I guess as about close to a vacation as I’m going to get any time soon.

---------------------------

The power’s been on for ten days now. I’m not wearing a hat inside my house, just a sweater over my clothes. The cats just ate some newly prepared raw food for dinner. I had a cup of very fine tea this morning. Sam and I are not getting along very well and my engagement ring is back in its’ box, this time stored in Sam’s underwear drawer. I don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I thought we better table the idea of ever getting married. It seems the power went out of our relationship and I don’t know when it will be restored.

It’s difficult to write about my relationship going sour. I try not to color it by my own perspective. I know I’m not easy to live with and have a bad temper. I think I should be a crazy cat lady and not live with other humans. Maybe I’m a feral human? Maybe I was driven to it by the stress I’ve been under for the past few years? I can’t say for sure, but when the power went out, it felt like a final straw. I can’t live the way I lived before. I don’t know what’s next. I was glad to have a break from having to worry about paying the mortgage even though it meant I was freezing cold and dirty and subsisting on fruit cups.

Cold Cats.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Spencer caught a mild cold, but is doing well today.

I'll never forget that awful week without power thanks to Winter Storm Alfred and CL&Ps flaccid response to repairing the power outage and foolish power grid that has our power lines be ABOVE ground (ridiculous!-the lines in my neighborhood are buried).

I hope, in time, I’ll figure out ways to be better prepared for the next storm; including the one that twists inside my heart. It makes me sad that Sam and I sweat the small stuff and it gets to us as it does. I wish we knew how to laugh in the face of adversity or at least hold each other through the worst of it—but even the mighty oak falls if the winds are just right.

Dark Days-Days Two to Four

The next morning I woke up, covered in cats. I didn’t sleep well. It was difficult to move under the covers with all the extra clothes I was wearing. I kept getting caught up in the sheets. The cats pinned my legs down. Some time during the night I had yanked off my hat, desperate to be more comfortable. My head got so cold I had the bedding up over my head. I had weird dreams when I did sleep. Though I would have been woken up by the power coming back on, I still hoped that maybe I slept through it and it was already working. No. It was too quiet.

I couldn’t see my breath, but it was very cold in the bedroom. I looked at the thermometer on Sam’s battery powered clock. It read 48°F. I realized I needed to pee. I didn’t want to get out from under the covers. “This is why they had bed pans back in the day,” I thought to myself.

Playing with Snow.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitz and the DOOD investigating a bucket of snow I was trying to melt in the sun so I could use the water for flushing, later.

I normally don’t write (too much) about sitting on a toilet, but I have to include the detail that sitting down on the toilet was like sitting on an iceberg. I shivered as I peed and I thought about trying not to do anything else into the toilet. Then I started to wonder how I was going to get along. I’m not a camper. My idea of “roughing it” is staying in a hotel with no room service. After I peed, I wanted to wash my hands, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have baby wipes, but I did have bleach wipes so I reluctantly used one of those. I could feel all the moisture in my skin start to evaporate from the chemicals, but my hands were clean.

But what about the rest of my body, how was I going to clean that?

I got some paper towels and thankfully we had bottled water. I washed myself with the cold water in the cold house…oh it was terrible. I certainly was inspired to get dressed, and quickly. I left my hair in an ever increasingly awful looking braid. At least it got my hair out of the way. I kept my cat hat on while I changed into fresh clothes. I was glad I’d done laundry recently, but knew I’d have to wear a few things for a few days in a row to make the most of what I had. No. Undies are always clean! That is not a compromise I’m going to make.

Getting something to eat was also going to be a problem. I couldn’t heat anything and I did not want to even OPEN the refrigerator, as keeping the contents cold was vital. I feed my cats a raw meat diet and there was hundreds of dollars of meat in the fridge that was starting to spoil. If I was going to open that door, I had to plan what I was going to grab beforehand to minimize the air loss. I got some juice, some butter to add to some bread and the raw food. I would have to serve it cold, but it was still good. The poor foster kittens would have to eat cold canned food. I usually warm it in the microwave. Yes, they’re spoiled I suppose, but eating COLD food in a COLD room just seemed like another slight in an otherwise lousy existence.

I had some juice and bread and butter. Even though I probably could have sorted out something better to eat I was in this sort of trance, maybe I was shell-shocked from what was going on? I found that I was just subsisting, alive but not living. It bothered me that the power going out would effect me so badly.

I kept thinking about what I was going to do. Everything seemed to take a lot longer to do-even simple things like keeping things clean. I couldn’t use any dishes because they couldn’t be cleaned and the dishwasher was full of dirty dishes. We’d have to feed the cats on paper plates and it would be a good idea if we had a supply of paper plates, plastic utensils and more paper towels and paper cups so we wouldn’t have to wash anything. I started devising a plan of action. It made me feel a bit better.

Sam and I weren’t talking. No surprise. He did, however run his car up and down the driveway a few times, which packed the snow down enough so I could probably get out. The roads were getting plowed, but there were reports that many roads were blocked by downed trees. The outage report on CL&Ps web site was still showing Newtown was 99% out. Why wasn’t anything improving? Surely if we didn’t have power, someone did, but our neighbors in Monroe, Bethel and Brookfield were just as bad off.

I put together a list. I tried to think of things that didn’t need to be warmed that we could eat. I could have just gotten things for myself, but I didn’t want to make the situation worse. I’d make sure I had enough for Sam.

Sam left home to take shelter at a client’s office where he was going to work for the day. They had light and heat and all that good stuff. It was about 20 miles away. I got to suck it up at home.

tree on wires.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Proceed with caution!

I left shortly after he did and was just able to get out of the driveway. My first stop was to try to get gas. There was nothing in town that was open. I knew there was a little known gas station in a nearby town, so I decided to try that first, but getting there was going to be difficult. I couldn’t even get down my street. It was blocked by fallen trees and downed wires. Thankfully we have a second road that gets us out of our neighborhood. I shudder to think what would have become of us if we hadn’t been able to get out at all.

A large sycamore was leaning over the road that was the alternate way to get out of the neighborhood; looking like it was going to crash onto the next car that drove under it. It was just a matter of time before we were trapped in the neighborhood.

The state road near my home was open, but as I drove along it looked like a war zone. The carcasses of dead trees, recently cut up and partly shoved off the road and onto the shoulder, were everywhere. Some trees leaned on the power poles or onto the wires. There were no signs warning drivers. Clearly there wasn’t time to mark every dangerous area. I had to go very slowly and be ready to stop the car at any second to drive around debris or turn around and try taking another road to get to my destination. I tried to remember if it was safe to drive over a downed power line if there was power in the line. Rubber tires? Was that safe? Better not take a chance.

I felt such dread. All those lovely trees broken and bent, the shock of white jagged splintered limbs everywhere I looked. I told myself that if the Lone Oak was gone that it would be too much to bear. In Newtown, we lay claim to the second largest oak tree in the state. It’s about 19 feet in diameter and has marvelous twisted, gnarled branches; a perfect “Halloween” shaped tree. It’s on Lone Oak Road, so aptly named. I drove past the street and looked for the tree. To my relief, it was still there, but a much smaller tree next to it had fallen over. I felt bad about the small tree, but also gained flicker of hope, seeing that grand tree still standing.

I had to drive under power lines and fallen trees, but I got to the gas station. There were a line of cars waiting but I didn’t have to wait too long, maybe 15 minutes or so. They were out of the grade of gas I wanted, but they had gas so I filled up. As I left I saw a line stretching out down the road. I must have just gotten there in time. I felt a bit like a warrior. I was able to provide something for myself.

I was fairly sure the grocery store nearby was open, too. Turns out it was. I assumed the shelves would be bare, but I wasn’t going to buy anything to cook, anyway. I was just hoping for some baby wipes and things like applesauce and paper towels. I knew they had 7-day burning shrine candles and I wanted to load up on those, too.

What really shocked me was how EMPTY the store was-not of products but of people! Where were the people? There were plenty of items and I had no problem filling up my cart with what I needed. I didn’t take every last one of something, but I did take enough so we had at least enough for the next few days. I was sure the power would be back on soon, right?

It was so nice, so normal to walk around the store. The lights were bright. The happy-buy-something-music was playing on the loudspeakers. I was WARM. It was like nothing bad had happened. We were all going to be fine as long as I didn’t leave the store. Maybe I could sleep in the produce section if I brought my own sleeping bag?

I was STARVING. Where could I get some nice WARM food?

I decided to go on a little expedition; suss out what was open and what was closed. I drove no further than a mile and the power was out and the traffic backed up because the traffic lights were out. The place I wanted to have breakfast at was closed. I know this sounds like I’m a big baby and I guess I am, but I really like to have an egg for breakfast every morning. It’s just a thing I do for myself. I change it up every day-add different ingredients; make it fun. I needed my egg sandwich. Boohoo! I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d lost and when I could get it back again.

Chariot of Hope.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. If I saw the person driving this van I might have smacked him/her. Yeah, this is our power company-not at work.

I drove further and found a shopping center that was open. They had a..dare I say..McDonald’s. It’s a place I usually avoid like the plague. I would almost rather not eat than eat there, but these were tough times. Nothing else was open in the area. Fortunately, I had cash because that’s all they were taking. The place was packed. I couldn’t get breakfast. It was too late. I didn’t know when I was going to eat again so I got two hamburgers and wolfed them down sitting in my car. The restaurant was warm, but it was crowded and seemed dirty. Eating in my car wasn’t much better, but at least I was away from all those people. It was a dreadful experience. I really wanted a hot cup of tea, but had no idea where to even get one. No. Don’t suggest McDonald’s. That is not tea, even if they have it.

I had heard our town was opening a “warming center” where we could get wifi and to, no surprise, get warm, so I decided to head over there after I went home and unloaded the groceries. By the time I got home I had a terrible stomach ache from the crummy hamburgers. The last thing I needed was to have the runs when I can’t flush the toilet. Nice, right? What could I do? I did what I had to do, then walked to the kitchen, lifted the 40 pound water jug and poured some water into a bucket. I poured the water into the toilet and tried to flush. It didn’t do a great job, but it made using it again tolerable. All the lifting made me cramp up again. I’d have to go easy on the water or I’d be out soon…but it was too late for that and within a few minutes I used up all the flushing water.

The town also opened up a place to get more water (thank GOD), since most of us are on well water and with no power, the pumps don’t work) so I drove over to the fire department. I brought them a box of donuts as a thank you that were not very well received. I don’t know why the fireman was short with me. He took the box and walked off saying a curt; “thanks.” I was just trying to be friendly.

Newtown.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

A few minutes later I saw him eating a donut as I began filling up my used water cooler bottles. The guy finished eating and came back over to help me lift the filled containers into my car. He was probably having a bad day, too. He said something about being up for 2 days straight due to all the calls they were getting. I felt bad for him.

I was very proud of myself for rigging up a way to keep the water from spilling all over the inside of my car after I filled up the containers. I used a cut up gallon ziplock bag and some big rubber bands. It worked out all right. See? I can take care of things. I’m driving to get water to flush the toilet! The amount of water I have teeter-tottering on the floor behind the front seats will let me flush TWO TIMES. That’s it. What a pain in the neck. How am I going to have time to get anything “normal” done?

I got to the warming center. The second I walked in the door of our new Town Hall I finally felt like all the taxes I pay went to something worthwhile. The building was large, well lit, clean. They let us use a chamber room for doing computing stuff. It was warm, so warm my face turned bright red. I guess I looked like a drunk, but I was warm and the wifi worked well. My stomach was still acting up, but this time I got to use the bathroom at the Town Hall. It was SO NICE, so CLEAN. Just to flush the toilet and WASH MY HANDS in water…WARM WATER was pure delight. In that moment I was revived, but the feeling wasn’t long lasting, especially after I took at look at my reflection in the mirror. I looked ghastly. My skin is already pale, but I was blue. My hair was a mess from wearing my cat-head-shaped hat. I had rings under my eyes. My layered frenzy of clothes made me look like I was homeless.

Warming Center.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Council Chambers/Warming Room.

Because I’m a graphic designer, I have a big workstation instead of a laptop. ALL my projects, my blog posts, my photos are on that computer. There was NO WAY I could access any of the data, unless I lugged a 50 pound machine to the Town Hall. I don’t HAVE a laptop, but I do have an iPad. It wasn’t easy, but I got some of my email to work and went online to find out what was going on. Our First Selectman, Pat Llyodra came into the room to see how everyone was doing. Hoa Nguyen, a reporter from the Newtown Patch, brought us some pizza! She did it “just because.” Another lady came in with homemade cookies. It wasn’t a big deal to them, but it was a big deal to us.

Thankfully, the sun was out and because my house is “passive solar,” it faces due south in the winter. The large windows at the front of the house allow the sun to warm the place up. At least I didn’t feel guilty leaving the cats alone during part of the day. They’d be somewhat comfortable, but those same windows would let all the heat out when the sun went down. Now that I had baked myself to a crisp at the “broiling” center, I decided to go home and try to get something, anything done.

I cleaned a chunk of my office, which is in terrible disarray. It’s a small room that competes as where I run both my design business and my non-profit cat rescue from. There’s not enough space for file folders, computer do-dads, samples and books, so things get piled up. I only see the top of my desk bi-annually. I managed to find my Cheshire Cat tote bag which I thought I lost two years ago. I found more places the cats peed and got it cleaned up. I threw out a lot of stuff and organized other things. Maybe if I could keep this up I could get a lot of cleaning done? Then I realized I could only do so much without having water or light.

The sun was going down. Sam called and said he was coming home, but that the roads were a mess and it took him nearly two hours to drive a normally 20 minute route. Part of me wished he would not come home, but I was lonely and scared. I kept wondering when the power was going to come back on. I kept checking my iPhone to see if CL&P was restoring power to Newtown. It was not. Other towns were being helped, but we were not on the list yet. Time seemed to pass twice as slowly. When was this going to be over?

by the fire.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen and Spencer by the fire.

We got the cats fed. I found an old down comforter and made a bed up for the foster cats to snuggle into. I built a fire in our crummy fireplace. It doesn’t heat the house unless you sit IN the fire, but it gave off a little warmth and helped light up the room. I noticed a few of the cats sitting near the fire, something they’ve never been interested in doing. I put down a blanket for them so they could sit close. Of course they fought over who got to sit where, but in time they worked it out. I brought many candleholders out and lit candles. There was just barely enough light to read by. I sat and shivered under a blanket on the sofa and tried to read. There was nothing much else to do.

Most of the stores and restaurants in town were closed. Getting dinner was not a simple task. Sam offered to get Chinese food again and this time I said OK. The misery of the situation forced us to get along. We were polite and courteous, but Sam’s side of the bed remained empty each night. I knew we’d both have been a lot warmer if we could have shared our body heat at night. At least I had the cats with me.

Candlelight.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Glad I had candles, at least.

By Tuesday I was a miserable wreck. I was crying from not knowing when this nightmare was going to be over. I was tired of being cold, of not being able to wash my hair or myself, of lugging gallons of water to flush, and never feeling clean enough. I was tired of not getting along with Sam. He came over to me and gave me a hug. I told him I couldn’t take it any more and began to sob.

I decided to book a few nights at a hotel. I figured even if I could just get one or two nights sleep in a warm bed and have a shower and good meal, I could stick it out until the power was restored. Sam thought it was a good idea.

I used my iPhone to look up hotels, while wearing my highest magnification glasses so I could see the screen clearly. To my dismay, I discovered most of the local hotels were not open. There was a Hilton Garden Inn in Danbury that said they didn’t have power on their web site, but I was able to find they did have a location about 25 miles away that might have a vacancy. I called the Hilton Reservations number and they said they could book me at the Danbury location for two nights starting the next night. I asked them if they were certain the place was open and they said it would be open the next day. I was THRILLED!!! I could get through anything now!

Sam left for his client’s office and I was left to figure out what to do. I decided I was going to wash my hair. It was filthy. I couldn’t wait until the next night to shower. The town had a place open where I could get a shower, but they only had TWO shower stalls for the entire town to use, you only got 5 minutes (not really a big deal), but GOD KNOWS WHO took a shower before you did! I’m sorry, but I guess I’d rather have a cold makeshift shower at home.

Again, every little thing required planning. I knew we were getting a delivery of water in another day so I felt okay about using some of our resources. I got out a watering can. Looking at it made me sad. We used to use it to rinse Bob off when we gave him a bath to soothe his ringworm and here I was going to use it on myself.

I took the tops off a few bottles of water and set them aside. I filled up the watering can, then put a sauce pan in the sink to catch the water I used to get my hair wet. I figured I could use the water again since I only wet my hair with it. I built a fire in the fireplace so I could be warm after washing my hair. I removed most of the layers I was wearing until I had a men’s cotton undershirt left. It was so cold. I had to move quickly.

I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and bent over the sink. I poured some water onto my head, being careful that the water would fall into the saucepan. It was bloody cold! It felt like metal ice picks shoved into my brain! It was too late now. I had to finish what I started. I lathered up as best I could, then rinsed off my hair. I could feel my hair knotting up into a rat’s nest. I sprayed conditioner onto my hair and tried to smooth it out. I was shivering and shaking. At that point I was glad to be cleaner, but felt annoyed that my hair was a tangled wreck.

I ran over to sit by the fire, which was a small relief. I thought about how the next morning I’d be washing my hair in a nice HOT shower at the hotel. I could get through this. I just had to hang on. Some of the cats sat near me. They kept giving me this weird look. Clearly then were confused and cold and wanted this to be over, too. I tried to soothe them as best I could.

Staging Area.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. A huge tent goes up. A line of porto-potties forms. It's the staging area for ALL the out-of-state utility workers!

The next day and a half was more of the same. More being cold, more not eating much, more being frustrated and now I was feeling more dirty. I just couldn’t get clean. I was feeling more and more desperate. I wanted my life back. I wanted a hot cup of tea, but most places were still closed and though Newtown had been declared as a staging area for the arriving out-of-state power company repair guys, we weren’t getting our lights on any faster. There were rumors the power would be on by midnight Saturday. Saturday? That would mean a WEEK without power! Oh GOD!

I started using the bathroom at the Town Hall for “certain” things. Try re-regulating your body’s digestive system timing. Yeah..not easy. At least I could avoid having to carry heavy containers of water up and down the stairs for constant flushing.

News Truck.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

The major news networks showed up at the warming center. Brian Williams of NBC did a report. We were featured on CNN, Fox and all the big local networks. Apparently, our little town was “ground zero” for the worst damage in the state and that was one of the reasons restoring the power was taking so long. I never, in a million years, thought I’d be living in a place that might qualify for having FEMA show up. I’m usually the person that sends in a donation to the Red Cross to help others and now I was the one getting MRE (meals ready-to-eat) and trying to figure out how to put my life back in order. It was very humbling.

Wednesday afternoon I packed my bags. I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel. That morning I called the local number and the lines were busy. Sam called, too. Sam problem. We figured everyone was trying to get a hotel and we patted ourselves on the back for calling when we did. I called the main reservation line at Hilton. They said the hotel was on a generator and not to worry about it!

Thursday morning I was scheduled to talk to my neurologist about the results of an MRI of my brain. I was in a car accident almost a year ago and have suffered chronic headaches ever since. It was not an appointment I was going to miss and their offices had just opened back up. I figured I would go to the Doctor directly from the hotel and Sam would take his car, separately, and drive straight home to get the cats fed.

We drove to the Hilton. It was dark on the highway. I was in the lead. I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel. It was going to cost about $400.00 for two nights, but I didn’t care at that point. As I got closer to the hotel, I saw the nearby strip mall had lights. Good sign. I thought I could see the hotel from the road, but maybe it was further down the road than I remembered?

Nightime Convoy.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. I catch a glimpse of a convoy of utility trucks. Wish they were headed to my house.

I took the exit off the highway and headed for the Hilton, passing the strip mall. In the darkness, I could make out a sign; “Hilton Garden Inn” and an arrow to the right. I could barely make out that there WAS a hotel there! Not a light was on. There were no cars in the parking lot. My heart sank, then a rage like I have never known, started to boil my blood. I was so angry I wanted to SCREAM, but there was NO ONE TO SCREAM AT!

They booked me into a hotel that was CLOSED.

I knew I’d be hard pressed to find ANY open hotel room within a reasonable distance from my home. I couldn’t go too far. I had to be able to care for the cats. This was NOT RIGHT, NOT FAIR, A CRUEL JOKE! I was so upset I felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Sam pulled up his car alongside mine and rolled down his window. I started ranting and raving. Sam knew better than to say much to me. I got back into my car and called Hilton’s Reservation line. Some person from India told me she was sorry, but “what was she supposed to do about it?” I told her to FIND ME A ROOM. She said none were available unless I wanted to drive another hour to Newburgh, NY or go to LONG ISLAND, which is easily 2 hours or more away. I told her they must hold rooms for special guests and that she owed it to me to GIVE ME A ROOM for causing me so much inconvenience. She said she couldn’t make one magically appear and that she was sorry and that she didn’t have anything and there were no rooms at their partner locations. I don’t normally ever talk rudely to anyone, but this time I let her have it.

She didn’t back down. She just asked me if I wanted to cancel my reservation. ARE YOU F-ING KIDDING ME??? What do you think? They had a hold on my credit card. They were willing to take my money for a phony reservation. So I had to WAIT for her to cancel my reservation while I waited for my head to explode. Then she had the nerve to ask me; “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?” I told her you’ve f-d me over enough for one day and hung up.

hilton night.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Artists recreation of crappy Hilton Garden Inn hotel in the dark.

I just lost it-whatever IT is. I told Sam to fix it. I had done all the work to make it right for us and now he had to get involved. He was angry with me. I started pacing. I wanted to drive my car into the hotel and set it on fire. Sam was having no luck getting anywhere. The cell service was lousy. I called my ex-sister-in-law, Anne, who I consider my sister. I left her a whiney voicemail saying I would take her up on her offer from earlier that day. I knew she was staying at her parent’s home about an hour from where we were and they had power. They offered that we could come over to take a shower, but I declined, knowing we had a hotel that night. Now we had no hotel so it was back to plan B. I could not go back to my house and FREEZE again! I was so tired and tired of being dirty and tired of being fed up and hungry. I was DONE with it all!

We had no other choice but to go home, grab clean towels and drive over to Mike and Pat’s home. Anne said she’d put the kettle on. Something my Mother always did. Hearing her say that was a small comfort-enough to keep me from doing something stupid. I envisioned that cup of hot tea. I started to cry again. I needed my Mother and my Father, but they’ve been gone for many years now. I wanted to lean on Sam, but he was mad at me. I deserved it, but in some ways I didn’t. My spirit was broken.

We got to the condo around 8pm. Pat and Mike are so sweet. They’ve been married for over 50 years. I think of them as my family, but I don’t often see them. Being in their home was like an oasis in the storm. Things were normal again. We were just visiting family except that we were going to shower in their bathroom instead of celebrate a birthday. I brought their cat Lily, a catnip toy present since I always seem to have new cats toys on hand. Lily looks almost exactly like Spencer, our mascot at Covered in Cat Hair. In fact, I adopted Lily, but she didn’t get on well with my cats so I re-homed her and now she’s a pampered princess.

Sam sat with Mike and Pat. They had a lively conversation. I went upstairs and got ready to take a shower. Anne insisted I didn’t use my towels, but take some clean ones from her Mom. “Why dirty up your towels when you have no way to clean them?” It was a simple kindness, but I got choked up. Anne got me settled, then left me to join her parents.

I couldn’t get into that shower fast enough. It had been FIVE DAYS since I had a real shower.

I didn’t hog all the hot water. I didn’t even make the water that hot. I just stood under the water, letting it rinse me off. It felt so good. My body began to relax. Tension began to drift away as I got lathered up, then rinsed off. I washed my hair. I finally felt CLEAN. I felt like a person again. I put on clean clothes. I thought about a commercial I’d seen where a laundry detergent company sent mobile laundry trucks to places hit by Hurricanes so people could wash their clothes. I started to realize that although we had it bad, it could have been so much worse. We had a house, though living in it was like camping, we had a structure that was still standing.

Dinner MRE.jpg
©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Dinner anyone?

The night before I said to Sam that I was thinking about all the people who live every day without any electricity. They don’t have TV’s or iPhones. They don’t have running water, but they probably experience the same sort of joy and sorrow we do. I suppose if you took away something that was normal to them, they would suffer, too, but why are we suffering so much? We’re just living like many other people…but we are not prepared, and speaking for myself, I have no skills in living like this. Again, more humbling moments for me.

As I sat down at the table, freshly washed, with Mike, Pat and Anne, Sam got up to take a shower. Everyone remarked at how happy I looked. Anne served me a cup of tea. I wrapped my fingers around the cup and absorbed the soothing warmth into my fingers. I had a sip of tea. I’m a tea snob, but at that moment, I could have been drinking just hot water and I would have been happy. I was really hungry, but I didn’t want to impose. It was getting late and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. I figured that we could find a diner since this town hadn’t been affected by the storm as badly.

We had a really nice visit and they invited us to come back the next night for a shower if the power was still out. We offered to bring dinner, so it was a date. Now that Sam had showered we said our goodbyes. I felt like I could go another few days without the power being restored now that I was clean.

We found a diner that was still open and had a good meal. I had an omelette. It was really good. I’d barely had anything other than pistachios and fruit cups to eat that day. We got home around midnight. I retired to my freezing cold bed. Sam stayed on the sofa. Another day was done perhaps one day closer to the power being restored.

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Weird