Sharing a photo of Sophie...

Dej took this photo this morning.  Sophie looks quite angelic.

There's no sunshine when he's gone

Ivan, the cat who started it all, died very unexpectedly Wednesday. We did not know he was sick until I came downstairs Weds. morning to find him lying in his box, looking "off".  I picked him up and he was limp with some yellow fluid around his mouth. My mom came to get us and rush us off to the vet, as I was too upset to drive safely and really needed to hold my baby.

His blood work was good and his heart was good, so it was tough to determine the cause of his obviously critical condition.  Our option at that point was to drive him to Madison for an ultrasound, which was not an option for me. He was in absolute agony, stressed, and I couldn't leave him like that for several more hours. My primary vet was not in, as he had been in the hospital the previous week and was still home recovering.

  They called him, though, and he volunteered to come in, and do surgery on Ivan. It was the best option for quickly figuring out what was going on and potentially repairing it. I will forever be grateful to him for coming in when he was feeling so poorly. I have serious trust issues and was falling apart over my baby, and I trust Dr. Mark implicitly. He is the only one who could have given me the comfort and assurance I needed to survive this without second guessing myself for the rest of my life. I'm fine with all the vets at the clinic, but he's been with me through so much for more than twenty years. I can count on one hand the number of people who I trust to that level. He's been with Ivan since the beginning, and even my grouchy Ivan trusted him and allowed him "touch privileges" which were accorded to very few people.

He had been given pain meds, so we had lots of time to snuggle and cuddle before the doctor arrived. I gave him hundreds of kisses on his little face (one of his favorite things since he was a kitten--he'd close his eyes and lean into the kisses; he even used to approach me and make a kiss noise, requesting his face kisses) and left him on the surgical table.

I had convinced myself that Dr. Nelson would repair him--after all he was healthy, with good blood work, and only turned 12 last month.  They quickly found the problem. Ivan had colon cancer, and one of the tumors had burst, leaving the colon wall open. There was nothing in the world that could be done to fix my little boy.  They did offer to bring him out of anesthetic, so we could say a final goodbye, but I couldn't even consider putting him through that terror, pain, and confusion, only to euthanize him after. While every fiber in my body ached for one more round of snuggles and kisses, it would have been supremely selfish.

I've loved Ivan since the day he was found newborn, abandoned in a driveway, on May 9, 2004.  He was my first cat, and the bond we shared was profound. Ivan always kept me in sight. Wherever I was, I could almost always count on finding Ivan somewhere within range--he may be hiding, but he was always close and watching. He had intense needs for cuddles, and if given the option, would be touching me 24 hours a day.  As long as he was touching me, he couldn't be happier.  He spent most of the rest of the time being grouchy and complaining. He loved his sisters and Mark and was extremely affectionate with them too.  Being the center of someone's universe is a huge responsibility and could be exhausting and even frustrating at times. It also means that he was a huge part of every second of my existence, and I'm absolutely lost with him. I look for him 100 times a day and am currently on my third day of a cry-induced migraine.

At this moment, life without him seems unfathomable. I will adjust eventually, but he's been my faithful shadow for 12 years, and I feel incredibly incomplete without him.

He always held my hand while he slept.

Happy birthday; "love's too weak to define just what you mean to me"

The semester is officially wrapped up and done, both for my classes and the high school classes I was working with.  I do have one remaining high school student who is "flexing" her semester through the summer to finish up some work and her project.  That's only one student, though, so it's not a ton of work for me.  I do have to finish up the website my college students started but couldn't find time to finish. It's very needed and for a local non-profit, so I don't want to leave them hanging. Right now, that and gardening are my top priorities.  I'll be really glad when that's wrapped up, so I can focus more on the garden, and a couple of classes I purchased but haven't yet had time to take.

We're in the midst of several painting projects in the house, and we have several more large repair projects that we need done over the summer, but are unqualified to do the work. We had a really good guy for a couple of years, but though the quality of his work is still outstanding, he flakes and can't be counted on at all anymore. I'm not sure what happened to him, but it's really a bummer.  I have a couple of numbers to call, but I haven't been able to make myself do so yet. I really need these projects done, but I hate phone calls and I hate start out with new people. Every day I try to make myself call, but the last couple I tried didn't turn out well, and it's just so incredibly stressful to interact with new people and to allow new people (non veg.!) in our home.  I would pay so much for a reliable vegan carpenter/handyperson! I anticipate this whole situation will be my "fly in the ointment" all summer.  It's so annoying to have a long list of jobs (at least three weeks of work), money to pay, and be unable to find appropriate help.

Over my long blogging absence, our Fergus bunny finally succumbed to one of many ailments he was getting pounded with. He was quite old and as often happens with the very aged, he started to get one illness after another.  We thought he would pull through the last one like he had all the others, but the little guy was just done. Fiona, his loving partner of 7 years, and I cared for him until the end. He was such a fun little guy and a great partner to Fiona. She lived without a partner, for the first time, for about a month.

I'm lucky to have a close friend with a rabbit sanctuary, so Fiona had a series of dates with some dapper rabbits of a variety of ages and sizes, and we were able to find a partner that was a good match.  Ferrero was her last of four or five dates, and they definitely had the best chemistry. I think she would have been happy with any of them.  She's a very chill rabbit and seems to be quite social with other animals of all species, and I've never seen any sign of aggression from her.  However, when the intent is to keep the rabbits in the same room for the rest of their lives, I'd like the rabbits to actually enjoy and not simply tolerate one another.

It took a little longer to get Ferrero moved in than we initially anticipated. We knew he had some health issues (neutering! and an ear amputation), but there were some complications/infections, and that added a little time to his recovery period. It was rough seeing her so lonely during those weeks. Her activity level dropped, and she was definitely depressed.  I gave her a large stuffed teddy bear, hoping at least having a soft body to sleep next to would help.  Finally Ferrero moved in, so we split the room in half, and let them interact that way while I was not in the room, with free access when I was there to observe.  After a several days of watching closely, I slowly extended their time out to include unsupervised time.  After a week, it was clear that they were not having any issues at all and really, really wanted to be together, so we removed the barrier, and they've been happy together since.

They both enjoy working on their bunny construction projects--putting doors and windows in very specific arrangements in a series of cardboard boxes and tubes, and then arranging the boxes and tubes in very specific ways that I don't really understand.  There is apparently a system, though, because if I move something, they make a point to hop over and rather rudely slam the box back into its designated spot. I swear there's a bit of an eye roll when they do it  ("Fucking dumb human. Clearly the Amazon box should be next to the Shark box, not the small box!").

Fiona has always had a raging sweet tooth.  They both loved their sweets (fruit and the sweeter veggies).  You could use Fiona to accurately rank the glycemic index of a grouping of fruits and veggies.  She will eat them always in order of most sweet to least.  While Fergus enjoyed his strawberry tops as much as Fi, he would mix up the order a bit--some strawberry tops, some greens, more strawberry tops, more greens, etc.  Not Fi. She eats from sweet to bitter--she even eats her mixed greens in this order, picking out the purples first, then moving to spinach, etc.  All that is to say that I think she's been a bad influence on Ferrero.  When he first came, he ate his greens, then his strawberry tops. I've noticed a gradual change, and the last couple of weeks, he eats all his strawberry tops before the greens now.

He's a sweet little guy, and I love him, but he's still warming up to me.  When he arrived, he had been through so much--brought into a shelter as a stray with a host of physical injuries, surgeries, medications, transferring homes--he's had a rough time.  He moved into yet another new environment, with a new person, and I had to give him antibiotic injections. He had no trust in me, so it was pretty brutal. He would run and try to hide in the corner, while I had to grab him and inject him between the shoulder blades.  He would cower and lean away like I was abusing him. I felt awful.  The injections are long since done, but now I have to build trust, as I violated it right off the bat.  He likes my feet, and headbutts my feet and legs a lot. I talk to him and and am slowly earning his trust as the food lady.  He's not really excited about my hands, yet.  We'll get there.  Slowly.

6/7/58-4/21/16

...And now you're gone and I just want to be still

So silent, I'll just let my senses sleep

It's gonna be so hard to hear my voice

If I ever learn once more to speak

I'm so lost, no one can find me

And I've been looking for so long

But now I'm done

I'm so low, solo, my name is No One
(Prince)

2016!

Obviously, I've continued to struggle with keeping up my blogging.  In the three months since my last post, the husband and I have each had a birthday, we survived another holiday season, one daughter graduated from college, and the other turned 16.  I'm on the second day of the new semester and thought I better blog now before the homework starts rolling in and I am snowed under with grading.

Breanna (Brea) the puppy:

Brea is seven months old now.  She was spayed at the end of December, and we enjoyed one night where she was exceptionally quiet and mellow.  She rebounded from the surgery quickly, and by the next day was already tearing around like the insane little pup she is. She and Froggie have continued their very sweet relationship.  They are inseparable.  She's grown quite a bit (we had to move her up to a larger collar and a larger diaper size) but is still much smaller than we had expected her to be.  She won't grow much more at this point.  We have gotten really good at changing diapers on a constantly moving puppy!

Sophie, Brea, Froggie

I am trying to train her to use potty bells, as she is able to hold it somewhat, but to a very limited extent.  It would be nice if she could let us know when she needs to go, rather than sticking to an schedule of putting her out every 90 minutes or so to try to catch it.  She was initially quite afraid of the bells, but after two months, she is no longer afraid, so I'm trying to get her to interact with them. She doesn't really like the idea at this point, but I think she'll catch on eventually.

Graduation:

Finally!

Dej's graduation was long awaited, and we're very proud of her. She ended college on a very high note--good grades, a strong work ethic, a completed internship, good connections, a love of learning, and a passion for her future career.  Now she's working on the very difficult task of finding employment.  It's a rough time of year, but she's committed and will find something.

Sadly, we have discussed changing her name on her application materials.  We still live in a world in which her (ethnic-sounding) name significantly impacts her ability to find a job.  I hate giving in to that, and I'm glad the final decision is hers. I wouldn't want to have to make that decision.

Dej's boyfriend got her this sweater for Xmas.

Another reason I have a hard time blogging is that some stories are not my own to tell, even though they may monopolize my life, thoughts, and energy.  One of those stories has been behind significant changes in our lives.  Dej and her long-term partner split up earlier last year.  He has been part of our family for a long time, and this has been a difficult adjustment for all of us.  They continued living together until her college graduation. It made more sense to share expenses and keep the animals intact until we reached a point where they could deal with moving and selling the house.  The split was hard on everybody, though at this point, they have both moved on and are involved with other people, M & I (and my parents) are still kind of sad and struggling with it.

Until she finds a permanent job and knows where she will be geographically, it doesn't make much sense to get her set up somewhere with her dog and four cats, only to have to move again when she gets a job.  So, she moved back home right before the holidays.  I spent a few months in extreme stress over the chaos of fitting all of her stuff, her animals, and all of our very big personalities and moods into our house.  It has turned out so much better than I had anticipated.

We're really enjoying having her back home. It was great to have so much time together over the holidays.  Integrating the animals hasn't been nearly as painful as I thought it would be either. There have been some spats and a little more territory urination, but it's been shockingly smooth for the most part.

The biggest loss for me has been my workout room.  That has been my joy, my sanctuary, and now it's her bedroom.  I now work out in the living room.  I miss the padded floor, the privacy, the neatly organized weights/videos/etc.--my little sanctuary.  It's not the end of the world, though, and when Dej is home (she's spends a lot of time in Michigan with her partner), she works out with me, which is really cool!

Back to School:

Still inseparable.

Today is the first day of the third week of my semester. Typically I hit my groove and settle into the semester around the third week, but the flu hit our household last week (horrible timing!), and I had to cancel a day of classes and spend a few days in bed.  This has kind of thrown me off, and I feel a little behind and out of sorts yet.  I think once I get through next week, I should be settled into the routine nicely. All three of us got it (Dej was in MI with her boyfriend, so she missed it), so I'm hoping we have our major illness out of the way for this year.

Campus is very different, with about 1/3 of our already very small staff gone.  It's still rather depressing and hard to come in.  Everyone is still walking around looking/feeling rather shell shocked.  It's such a tragedy to see first hand the devastation that Walker has inflicted on the state's educational system.  

In addition to my full-time teaching, and the local high school class I'm working with (I did give in and agree to do the grading as a volunteer; there's just no one else to do it.), I agreed to help out with two online computer science classes for another high school in the state.  With all of the teacher cuts throughout the state, many districts have been forced to purchase online curriculum from virtual schools in other states (mostly Florida, which explains the nauseatingly poor quality of these courses).  Many schools have no computer science or foreign language teachers, so to fill in the curriculum gaps, they bought these really bad courses, enrolled students, and then subsequently realized that the courses are not good at all; there are underlying technology problems; the students still need a human to answer questions (especially in a programming class!), grade their work, and provide feedback.  This is the role I've taken on.  I truly don't have time, but I know that I was their very last hope, and I couldn't walk away from the poor kids, who are stuck in a class they've put so much time into.  It's created a lot of stress, because it's one more thing that I'm perpetually behind on.