Due to the fact that I just didn’t get to it this week, here’s an encore blog from a couple years back. Hey, you probably don’t remember it anyway so it’ll be just like new!
What a morning.
I ask you, have you ever had one of those days when you realize pretty early on you probably should have stayed in bed longer? Or maybe not gotten up at all? Continue reading
So one morning last week I’m rifling through my closet for a shirt. Rifling is probably not the correct lingo since my closets are fuller than Kylie Jenner’s lips. This fact sorta inhibits my ability to see all the clothing I own, making it extremely convenient to forget what’s hiding in my closet.
What I’m trying to say here is I have a LOT of clothes. An awful lot. Apparently I tend to buy things but don’t often get rid of those things, even years later. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not a hoarder if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But clutter makes me anxious unless it’s out of sight. So closets are perfect places to be a closeted hoarder, so to speak.
The problem is, I don’t like 90% of my clothing. I have absolutely no fashion sense like some of my friends. For instance, Pam and Sue always look put-together, you know what I mean? They have quality clothing that drapes their bodies as though sewn specifically for them. It doesn’t hurt that they have awesome figures. Even Polyester would look wonderful on them.
I’m a multitasker. My brain is always one step ahead of the rest of me and it’s tough playing catch up. You see, I find it difficult to do only one thing at a time. The real problem is that there’s only 24 hours in a day. Even though I only sleep for 5-6 of them, I continually discover there’s just not enough time to do what I need to do. Or more importantly, want to do.
For instance, while I’m writing this, I’m propped up in bed, intermittently checking my emails, watching the 11:00 news and alternately petting my cat Oliver, who’s asleep on the night stand and then my dog Skip, who’s glued to my side. I’d pet my dog Callie too but she’s at the foot of the bed and I don’t want to reach down that far. Hey, I’m human. I can only do so much.
Sometimes I wish I could quiet my brain. I tried meditation but there’s an art to that, don’t you think? Being able to focus on, well…nothing, is hard. It takes discipline and lots of practice. At least that’s what I hear. Anyway, who has the time? Besides, when I’ve tried meditating, it gives my mind free reign to go wild. And let me tell ya it takes full advantage.
I received the most unusual and unexpected gift last week from someone I’ve never met. She knows me from the work I do with feral cats and is a friend of a friend. So why did she give me a gift? Be patient, I’m getting there…
Hold your horses
In this line of work, meaning TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return), I meet some interesting folks. Let’s just say not all of them particularly like cats. Some downright hate ’em. But then not everyone is perfect, right? Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying if you don’t like cats you’re a sociopath. But my guess is you’re probably close.
Anyway, my friend was telling this gift-giving person about my encounters with these as- yet-undiagnosed sociopaths. They’re the characters who not only make this work interesting, unpredictable and a little bit scary, but have taught me I should learn self defense. Like yesterday already. I’ve intended to take classes for about 10 years now but have I done it? Intended is the operative word there.
Take THAT you cat hater
So as if having 7 animals isn’t enough, I’m one of only a few people at the humane society willing to foster ringworm cats and kittens. Consequently, I often have a room or two filled with the little buggars. By buggars I mean the kittens, not ringworm. Personally I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not an actual worm. That would be disgusting. No, it’s just a fungus, like athlete’s foot.
Not this kind of worm
Since ringworm is contagious to people and other animals, I have to keep these cats isolated. Luckily I have 4 bedrooms so I’m an instant ringworm B&B of sorts. Come little kitties, stay a while. Relax. Chill out while receiving weekly sulfur dippings and daily oral meds.
This is the life
At first I wore a smock and gloves when handling my 5 ringworm domestic kitten fosters but quickly tired of that. So now I hold them with abandon. To hell with ringworm!
So far so good. I’m rash free as of this writing. Just in case, I have a tube of Lotrimin waiting in the wings. I’m nothing if not prepared…
Smartly, I let humane society staff perform the particularly stinky sulfer dips. I have my limits you know. But I do give the kittens oral meds each morning along with meds for my aging Greyhound. And then there’s the feedings. With 12 stomachs to fill, I don’t get to eat and run anymore. I feed them, scoop cat and dog poop, give meds, grab a bite, then run. I’ve become good at organizing my mornings.
Stinky sulfur dips
Ringworm cats are unadoptable until they’re symptom free and getting them to that point takes weeks. But I don’t mind. Actually, ringworm is the easy part. That’s because I’m used to fostering feral kittens, not domestics. And believe me, there’s a world of difference. Continue reading