I had such empathy for this cat - - - I loved him for what he had endured. I felt badly that his ‘mom’ had to relinquish him (he was a six week old when she got him) because she really loved him. She had her aide at the nursing home call every week to make sure he was okay…they were together for seven years. My instinct was to contact her and send pictures giving her a visual sense that FreshBoy was doing well, safe and loved. I was advised not to contact her; she had probably grieved for her losses – cat and home. My sending pictures may only cause her more heart-ache. I’ll never know for sure - - - I have thought about going to see her - - - incognito - - - and bring some cheerful conversation.

I was advised to drop it. “You adopted a cat - - - gave him a good home and love. Leave well enough alone.” OK. Amen.

Again, I put hand cream on their snouts so they all had same scent. I kept FreshBoy in his crate and introduced the other cats one at a time. 16 was accepting, Missy disliked yet another cat to share her space. She wanted to be the queen and still does. :-D) When FreshBoy finally exited his crate, Missy chased him around and downstairs. When I finally caught up to these two greyhounds FreshBoy was cowering under a table, Missy guarding him. Poor guy had an accident. As I was cleaning him up, he got frightened and bit me. I was a bloody mess - - - he got me good. Saturday was a visit to the doc for a tetanus shot. I got pet insurance for him, perhaps I should get more life insurance for me or - - - my survivors.

Unless one is present you’re never quite sure who inflicted the damage. FreshBoy got a scratched cornea** from one of his furry housemates. The vet showed me a magnification – it was like a crater. He laid out the facts: he was going to operate, if it didn’t solve the situation, next step was a vet ophthalmologist or he could be blind in one eye. Okay, ka ching, ka ching – do it. Operation was done; FreshBoy had his eye stitched shut and donned an Elizabethan collar. I had to take the collar off him for eating and drinking purposes - - - he had to be kept under close supervision so he wouldn’t scratch himself or bear another attack by ??? Weathered that fine – FreshBoy was good as new in three weeks. Eye perfect.

Next, a couple of months later I felt a huge lump on the side of
FreshBoy’s neck. There was no apparent wound so off to the vet again.
It was an abscess that had to be lanced, a drain put in and medication topically and orally given for a week. FreshBoy, FreshBoy.

Everyone has had their check-ups for this year and pronounced healthy.

FreshBoy and 16 are really good friends, Missy and 16 get along well and FreshBoy and Missy - - -well, it’s usually a hiss and surrender type standoff. Remember those math problems, If 4 = a and b=12 what does c =. Let’s say there’s never a dull moment in Dodge with 16, Missy and FreshBoy. You can understand better why they all have
crazy pseudonyms for this blog - - - to protect me.

**The transparent convex anterior portion of the outer fibrous coat of the eyeball that covers the iris and the pupil and is continuous with the sclera.

Until next time - - -

I put hand cream on both cats’ snouts before they met so they would have a common scent. The 16 year-old was happy to see another cat and was quite cordial. Let the games begin. Missy hissed, spat and ran away. “16” chased after her as I’m sure he thought it a game. She pretty much harassed him when she could. I put an end to it after a few days as I figured a couple of days would give them time to acclimate to each other.

I noticed when I came home from work they’d put on ‘the show’ for me. Chase, run, hiss, meow and run, run, run. I was delighted to see ‘16’ kept up and didn’t sleep the whole next day. He was rejuvenated. Eventually they started sleeping together at night and during the day seemed to remain in their own territory.

Missy loves to look out the window and grinds her teeth as she watches the birds cavort. Missy chirps and the birds cheep - - – makes for a lovely time for all. A squirrel comes right up to window and she seems to have made friends with him.

I bought one of those cat tunnels - actually I bought two and connected them. Missy's favorite game that she plays every day and always has a special performance for visitors. She runs through the DR under the coffee table in the LR, runs through the tunnel, jumps on the cat condo, then onto the cat tree, slides down and through the tunnel back through to the DR. Minimum of three times - - - then, onto the lap of an unsuspecting person. She gets herself settled on the lap and then turns onto her back and purrs loudly. She's a hoot.

Until next time - - - when #3 comes home…

The caretaker of the adoption site and I e-mailed back and forth. I looked at ‘the Kings’ pictures every day. Long and short, my application got rejected. What a blow – it was because I lived 75+ miles from the adoption site and the caretakers always inspected the living situation before adoptions and a month afterwards. The staff was limited and they could not ‘visit’ my home. This sounded feasible.

OK, the search began again this time limited to Connecticut. I was now savvier and looked at the rescue sites every day. I saw which cats were adopted, which were not. Some are still not adopted. Then I hit pay dirt, “Large, Maine Coon, neutered male, age 7 needs home as his owner is going into a nursing home.”

I immediately called and asked when I could see him. Had to answer a few questions and engage in general conversation - - - assessment. “Can you come now to see him?” I soon met the ‘big guy.’ He was petrified and shaking in my arms. I put him on my lap and stroked him as I was quietly talking to him. He settled, yet was very alert to the other cats.

This rescue shelter Halfway Home(http://www.petfinder.org/shelters/CT211.html in North Haven) is wonderful. After the rescued cats have had their vet check-up and blood work, they’re then assessed as to their friendliness, etc. If they get along with other cats they go into the “living-room” with the ‘ready for adoption’ cats. The room is set up like a cat friendly living-room so they are acclimated to indoor living (if not already indoor cats). These 8-10 cats enjoy communal living and seem quite happy. I put the ‘big guy’ back into his enormous crate and stayed in the living-room. All the cats came to say hello when - - - out of nowhere came this flash of grey landing on my chest. She gave her all, she was working me, and she decided she wanted to come home with me. I did not want three cats, I definitely did not want a female. I heard myself saying ‘I’ll adopt this one, too.’

Until next time - - -

This whole episode turned into a big mess – there are few words to describe this despicable chapter in our government’s functioning. Folks didn’t just lose their homes, belongings, automobiles, businesses, family members, photos, diplomas, self-worth, dignity, money - - - they lost their focus for living. Take one hour; go somewhere quiet and starkly furnished. No food, no water, no telephone, no music, no television, no lights, nobody. Sit on the floor. (Actually, a bathtub would be a good assimilation of N.O.). You’re totally alone. Think about losing all possessions and more - - - where do your thoughts wander? No ATM machines, no grocery stores, no writing implements. Nothing and I mean nothing except you against the elements.

The bigger implication from Katrina and Rita is the depression setting in - - - the whole feeling of despair and hopelessness - - - everything is flat. Some folks will be fine, I know, because they are getting jobs, relocating, starting a new life. I think the people who have children are going to be fine. They have to provide for their kids - - - not just materialism - - - a safe haven so their children, too, can heal.

My mother used to say ‘there for the grace of G-d go I.’ - - - and she’d try to help.
I remember we had an insulated milk box (provided by the milk company) outside the front door. Not only the milkman but the bread man used it. My mom had a standing order.
For a couple of weeks she noticed bread had been removed from the packaging. She finally ‘caught’ the little girl who was taking the bread. She said she was hungry and grabbed the bread on her way to school. My mom told her stealing was not right but neither was being hungry. She fed the little girl every morning for at least a year and a half until - - - her family moved abruptly. I expect that little girl still remembers my mom. No big deal but I learned compassion and forgiveness from my mom - - - may she rest in peace.

Until next time - - -

I turned around and said to her, “That’s not acceptable.” She looked at me with distain and told me if I didn’t like it I could go jump. I repeated, “It’s not acceptable.” She looked menacing enough. Her friend looked embarrassed - - - or, maybe I was hoping she was embarrassed. Ummm, I sized it up - - - there were two of them - - - I haven’t thrown a punch since 7th grade and then there were only two punches. We both were good students and realized our dispute wasn’t worth getting suspended - - - we were stupidly on school grounds.

Back to the check-out line - - - I smiled my best brightest smile and turned around. I never looked in their direction again - - - I didn’t hear any conversation. They may have been sticking pins in a doll, throwing gestures my way or, perhaps were humbled. It’s not my place to humble anybody; I was intruding on someone else’s freedom of speech. That’s what this country’s Bill of Rights grants. I’m not the Enforcer. I disobeyed my own rules of conduct - - - and I was lucky. Nothing bad happened but it could have.

I better understand why people don’t want to get involved - - - you have to be smart.
Assess the situation and if it’s dangerous to you or anyone - - - call 911. My assessment
in retrospect is to keep my yap shut.

Until next time - - -

Hives is an experience I could do without. These were not just red itchy blotches. These hives unionized - - - they clustered, traveled and popped up in new locations daily. They were super-colossal – titanic creatures of the dermis - damn, my dermis. The territory covered and duration was incredible --- I found myself unable to go an hour without checking it out. At one point I was in a meeting watching the hives move down my arm onto my fingers - ugly, unamusing. Initially, I used OTC allergy medicine and it worked for an hour or so and then the beast started running amok and to quote my doc --- ‘started a life of its own.’

You see, sometimes traditional medicine is a quick fix --- I opted for the quick fix. Corticosteroids are powerful drugs that get the job done --- in my case it took a little longer than anyone imagined. I have not been a pill popper so I wrongly assumed my immune system would cave into this super drug and I’d be cured - - - immediately. It wasn’t working. Let me quickly explain how my body reacted to these drugs. It’s like a formula JB=A+D #$%$^$#fighting. Corticosteroids cause the body to AWAKEN, antihistamines cause DROWSINESS. Remember Osmosis Jones in 2001? Chris Rock was the voice Osmosis Jones My body was functioning inharmoniously (ya think?) --- it was jiggling like gelatin inside. This was not good – doc suggested I take 2 antihistamines at bedtime (whenever that was now) and sleep through until morning. I have not slept so well in decades. Really, decades!

Ummm, I think my neck grew overnight. I was starved --- I knew it was the drugs so I grabbed a yogurt and took more pills. My doc sent me to another doc --- allergist --- good man. I liked him even if he didn’t think my urticaria was all that unusual. The phlebotomist (nice sanguine word) at Quest took a pint of my blood (OK, 12 vials) - - - she was good, NO PAIN WHATSOEVER. I may never know what caused this reaction - - - I don’t particularly care - - - I just don’t want it to happen again.

The short story is the hives have receded; my body is mottled with colors but not humongous welts. My face vaguely resembles a chipmunk - - - round and angelic. Eyes are puffy with dark circles - - - sometimes I even have a healthy flush. The bi-product is I have no aches and pains - - - can’t breathe great but hey, can’t have it all.

Maybe - - - by my birthday I’ll start looking like - - - it’s just not all that important!

OK, folks, enlighten us all with your tales of medicine gone awry.

It’s such a little thing in the scope of this hurricane saga yet somehow I think G-d intervenes in strange ways – whose path was crossed – TJ’s or mine?

Until later - - -

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/fronts/KATRINA

She found a blanket high up in a closet that had escaped the soaking from the nasty waters. Using that as a bedroll she was able to stretch across the kitchen sink and washing machine to rest. The tuna can was a flip top which comes in handy with no power and who knows where the hand opener is. Even soggy potato chips taste good after not eating for a few days. TJ celebrated her birthday a few days before Katrina hit New Orleans. She silently wondered if it would be her last. Denying those thoughts she gathered whatever she could – how does one choose what to take? Take what? - go where? Wet clothes, wet paperwork, wet photo albums stuffed into a wet suitcase. TJ waded 8 city blocks in the murk to reach a Guard truck that took her to I-10 where hundreds, maybe thousands of people were camped out. It must have looked like a 70’s concert - didn’t sound like a concert. Fear encompassed most thoughts. Survival, sanity, solitude – she wanted to be with people yet some were too out of control. Who could you trust? Trusting strangers in uniforms with guns – isn’t this what we’ve been watching on television for eons? There’s a deep sense of this being a bad dream or worse.

Think about it, folks, no privacy – even bathroom habits are greatly altered. People are wet, drying their clothes in the hot sun – thirsty, exhausted - there isn’t shade on I-10. The asphalt is hot, some folks don’t have the luxury of shoes – they lay on towels or blankets. A few sit on suitcases. Can’t rest, don’t dare sleep, because you might lose the little you have, OR worse, get hurt. Guard trucks take some people including TJ to the Convention Center. Remember what you saw and heard about the goings-on there? It was awful and worse then anyone thought. TJ stayed outside fearful of the travesties happening inside. Rape, beatings, thefts, death and destruction – probably a lot was due to overcrowding, lack of food and water, untreated mental illnesses, drug addicts not getting a hit and some folks who were just not pleasant.

She couldn’t take it – she got a ride back as close to her home as possible. She waded back into her home – alone – but feeling a lot safer. Next day a Guard rescue boat came and got TJ and her still soggy suitcase. They took her to yet another truck, this one heading to the airport – another shelter; hopefully better.

Good news - TJ was on a plane heading for ??? No one would say. Possibly avoiding an outrage from folks who didn’t want to go to Texas. You know everything is big in Texas – including the hearts of volunteers and medical staffers. TJ was overwhelmed by the generosity of spirit from these strangers. I met TJ shortly thereafter through a friend. We just hugged. She was brave and practical. Trying to act normal coming from an abysmal situation. Being with family, getting a bath, washing her hair and sleeping were high priorities. She was exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally – just spent. She was quietly charming and friendly despite her fatigue.

We do little things that friends do – you know, meet for lunch, swap stories, laugh. I found little things that might be needed or just fun – like a portable CD player and some CD’s, make-up bag, stationery and stamps (she wanted to write thank you notes), paperbacks and some snacks. TJ’s greatest gift to me was allowing me to try to find a couple of her friends – one she was talking with on the 29th when the power and cell towers were cut off. She had been through a lot – mostly alone - and now she was safe with family. Her friends that had experienced Katrina too were not within earshot. Were they okay, lost, found? After a week of searching through the lists of survivors - a couple of hours a day – I got lucky. I found one of her friends – staying in a shelter in Louisiana. Alive. I haven’t heard if they’ve spoken yet but at least they both know that the other is okay. My task at hand is to find one more person – and, hopefully ‘Rita’ will pass by quietly.

Until then - - -

I’ve been following the Katrina aftermath with great interest. Friends, colleagues and I have been discussing the pleasantness of the Northeast climate. It is relatively calm. Although folks constantly talk about the weather - and it really can change in five minutes as the adage goes - it’s not horrendous. We get our hurricanes which are cylindrical – most often we can handle the situation. Tornadoes? More likely a renegade twister. These are rare and not widespread. The Nor’easters spew their rage at us several times a year. Snowfalls range from ½” to 2-3 feet…it also varies depending where you live.

‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ Some of the sages in Washington are dancing to avoid third degree burns. There aren’t enough salves to erase the memory of this bungling. Somewhere along the line I learned to fess up, accept responsibility no matter how scared or hurt. The truth meant something – like character. Taking responsibility for one’s actions got the ball rolling for action - positive, teambuilding action!
The proverbial ‘buck stops here’ doesn’t apply to many in the government – better to blame everybody to deflect from one. You’d think the hurricane devastation would be a bi-partisan issue – wouldn’t you? Whatever screw up happened on the Gulf coast – and remember three states’ coastline not one city; although the ‘story’ seems to be more interesting from New Orleans. I realize everyone was on vacation – hello, if there’s a crisis at my workplace I am requested to return ASAP. Too bad nobody was watching television, radio, reading a blog or talking with their neighbors. Somebody should have called somebody – it’s unacceptable to hear government employees - yes, folks, you’re employees – to say they weren’t aware of the effects of the hurricane. I say, "Bullshit!"
I don’t consider myself a Pollyanna –I am disappointed as I expected more from my government. I’m always proud of the citizens in these crisis situations. That aside, I am tired of the assumption we are idiots; therefore, we can be pacified with rhetoric that is untrustworthy. Inconsistencies, excuses that don’t make sense - fine, downright lies! With the access to areas through first-hand experiences, reporters, television, Internet, radio (ham and otherwise), blogs, photos, newspapers’ websites from the area – WHO DOES MR. PRESIDENT THINK HE'S KIDDING? Perhaps himself.
I can only guess at the pressure and difficulty ‘handling’ the press, photogs, citizens at a given time. It’s especially tough – if you’re not good at it. Sincerity isn’t difficult if you mean it. It is certainly harder to cycle uphill after a flood.

ALAS. I watched the Gulf coast survivors wading, swimming, walking to safety. I heard about folks not having their treatments or medications – with diabetes, hypertension, needing dialysis, mental illnesses, allergies, pregnancy, oxygen cylinder dependant, cancer patients having treatment disrupted, and many, many, many more situations. IF one is in fairly good health, continue to keep your body as healthy as possible. You want to give yourself the chance of survival and the ability to offer assistance.

And, until next time - - -

Goodwill – look through your closets, what can you donate? Good lessons for children to learn. The children in Gulf region have nothing – no clothes, no shoes, no toys.

Salvation Army – this group can use your monetary donations as they are setting up shelters and supplying food and water, etc. (phonebook)

Red Cross – you can send a check to your local chapter (phonebook). Be sure to include a note specifying for Hurricane Katrina use.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Do not accept telephone solicitations nor respond to e-mails asking for money. Send your check to a local chapter of any of the above. There are other good charities – be careful and know who they are. Be sure they're legitimate.

Until next time - - -

The above helped me to see a broader picture of circumstances and situations that hadn't occurred to me. I got caught up in the hysteria as usual. I need to back off and think about this with more objectivity. Tall order sometimes, how are you doing?