The Cat Daycare

 

We have feral cats in our backyard.  They hang out and leave dead lizards and mice on the doorstep. Being a scientific sort, I dutifully assign each cat a name and note their coloring, etc.  We currently have Otto, NotOtto, and Mr. Fluffikins visiting frequently, with Marmalade and Sissy(my husband named that one) living in the bushes in the corner of the yard. The neighbors across the street have raccoons living in their backyard, so I am okay with cats.

Recently, Sissy had a litter of kittens. Two adorable tiny kittens.  I tried to make sure that Sissy had food and water, and we occasionally tried to check on the babies.  Except that mother cats move their babies often in the wild, to keep them safe. Also, it's difficult to have family bonding time when a large human is poking around because "they're so cute!" and he wants a picture. Completely understandable.  

We did not see the babies for several days, but I wasn't worried. Sissy knew what she was doing.  I drove to work for a few hours, then drove to my oncology appointment.  I then drove to New Braunfels to pick up my son, and we drove home, through the beginnings of rush hour traffic. 

Imagine my horror when we got out of the car and heard VERY LOUD mewing coming from my engine. Go on, imagine it.  I'll wait.  Did you picture me, panicking in the front yard, trying to locate the bar that unhooks the hood of the car?  It took Zane and I almost FIVE whole minutes to get the hood open, because we were both so hysterical. We even called my husband, who was on his way home, to ask him how to open the hood, so then he was also hysterical, only on the phone.  Zane and I finally got the hood up and discovered a tiny kitten wiggling about underneath the hot engine. We were frantic about rescuing the kitten(s)?  We only saw the one baby, and had no idea where the other one might be.  Larry came home and we talked him into removing the bottom part of my car so we could get the kitten out.  We got the baby out, and he seemed to be okay, so I took him into the backyard and handed him to Sissy. 

"What the heck did you do that for?" Larry had dreams of kitten fatherhood, but I thought it best for the baby to be fed by its mother. Sissy sniffed a moment, grabbed her kitten and took off for the bushes.  We searched underneath my car, but alas, the other kitten was gone.  It likely rolled out of my car at some point.  I felt guilty about this, but at least we saved one of the babies. Larry, Zane and I had a family moment of feeling good about reuniting mother and son.  

Until the next day when I got out of my car at the end of the day, and the kitten was right back where we found it the day before!  I waited for Larry and Zane to get home, then we extricated the kitten from my engine.  We were confused now.  What should we do?  Larry decided that he wanted to keep the kitten, who was sound asleep in Larry's arms. I was less sure.  On the one hand, the best place for a baby cat is with his mom.  On the other hand, why is this mama cat using my car as a daycare?  So we let the kitten sleep in our house all night.  The next morning I made an executive decision and gave the kitten back to Sissy.  My understanding is that kittens need to eat every two or three hours, and there would be no one at home to feed it.  Larry was upset, but he understood.  

At the end of the day, I came home, sans engine cats; we checked before I left home.  Larry and Zane get home about 30 minutes after me. He suddenly "had a feeling", and opened up my hood.  THE KITTEN was there again! Sissy had decided that my engine was the perfect daycare: warm, dry, and easily defendable from unauthorized visitors.  However, I cannot tell my boss that I have to stay home on account of cat in my engine. Does that count as carpooling? I gave up after that, and drove my mother-in law's jalopy to work for two weeks until we were sure that the danger of cat babysitting was passed.  

We named the kitten Lucky.   

My Dad Has Dementia

It is time for school to begin.  My husband and I, at our different employment areas, are back preparing to open the doors to students this week.  My son is preparing to take his driver test so he can drive himself to school his senior year. (When did that happen? I need to lie down a moment.)

But my father has dementia.  It's an affliction that older people get. The brain starts to focus on activities such as walking and not so much on remembering. My dad was born a few days after Pearl Harbor, was in Vietnam, left the military after 28 years and worked in the medical field for almost twenty more years before he finally hung up his white coat.  He said that his intention was to pester my mother. He has achieved that goal.  They are both in their 80s, but my mother has her bowling teams, and she has her errands to run, and the house to clean, and laundry, etc. What she has been doing her entire life. Her routine, now that she does not have children in the house, has been a well-oiled machine with nary a hiccup, just how she likes it.   

My dad does not have a bowling league. He does not have errands to run. He just sits. He did try to clean the house to help my mom, but he didn't complete the task correctly and was shooed away. As I said, my mom has a routine.  My father did like to complete woodworking tasks, such as creating bookshelves and entertainment centers made of Oak that will survive a nuclear explosion and put your back out if you try to move it. But when he had his heart valve replaced, that all seemed to go away due to the long recovery.  All that equipment sits now, covered with dust and a few deceased wasps. My dad used to like to work in his garden and spent a lot of time outside, but now he "falls down out there". He says that he is watering every day, but the condition of the plants tells the story.

My dad used to pick up my son from school.  He would get into his humongous Ford 350 truck, roll down his windows and play old-timey country music very loud while in the car pool lane, because he enjoyed annoying people (his words).  Then he started to get lost while driving, so he was only allowed to drive around the block and secretly buy beer for homeless people.  My mother wanted to know why my dad didn't buy food for them, but he said that it was his money, so she let it slide.  Except when my dad was talked into driving one of those homeless people to his house over by Mission Concepcion, and he didn't know how to get back home. My brother "borrowed" Nelly the truck, and it sits in his driveway now.  My mother drives both of them.  For now.   

What my dad LOVES to do right now is talk to people. When we go out to eat on Sundays, my dad stops at every table to say hi and to tell a joke or two.  Most individuals are gracious and accommodating while my father tells one of the two jokes he remembers, and stands there while they try to make small talk in return.  Both of his jokes are slightly off color, so there's always a chance that someone will be offended.  My father is no longer allowed in one of the local libraries, for example, to my mother's horror. When I try to get him to move along so we can sit down, he gets irritated with me and tells everyone that I am "no fun".  I agree with him.  It is no fun chasing your dad around like he's a toddler who has wandered into the kitchen and wants the treat of someone's attention.  And he won't remember any of it ten minutes later. 

It has been hard watching my dad.  The guy I used to go to for answers about everything (because he was Dad, and dads know everything) doesn't remember my name. He doesn't remember a lot of names.  He does remember that I am his daughter, and that will have to do for now.  We could all wear nametags or buy shirts with our names on them, but given the number of people in the family and their fashion preferences, there might be a brawl. Fortunately we all live close to one another. My brother has started to come over more to visit my parents, and we have spent time over there during the summer talking, sitting, and walking with my dad so my mom can go to church and have a little respite.  They've installed cameras and alarms, so that my mom knows when my dad decides that he is going for a walk and leaves the house.  And we have spoken to my mom about options for her to consider, such as hiring a caregiver to help her.  She's the decision-maker now.  

Chickens Will Come Home to Roost

I finally got my doctorate.  

I wish that I could tell you that it was easy.  Certainly some aspects were simply a matter of taking the coursework and completing the assignments.  That part was pretty cut and dry, rinse and repeat. No, the difficult part was the writing of the document.  I consider myself a pretty decent writer, and I write educational evaluation reports almost every day.  The writing wasn't an issue, it was the review of my writing by other people that was hard.  What was perfectly clear and easily understandable to me was not that way to other people.  That part was humbling and stressful and yes, I did want to just give up several times because I was also working a full time job and taking care of my family.  

But I did not quit, and now I am done.  

Of course, now I have to pay back my student loans, like a good citizen. I don't mind this--I took out the loans, I will pay it back.  I did apply for the forgiveness program, since I have spent all of my work life working in public schools, and we will see if that goes through.  Right now, nothing is happening, because there are idiots who just automatically sue every time someone might get a fair deal somewhere.  I don't understand it, since it costs the states a ton of money to sue the federal government, and it costs the federal government a ton of money to fight the suit, and in the end the only people who get paid are the lawyers.  The bottom line is that I am in student loan limbo until all of that gets solved. Chickens will come home to roost, after all, so the government gets paid.  

But I have my doctorate, and that's a good thing.  

How are all of you?