A Misunderstanding

When I graduated from high school, I received two kittens as a graduation present. For the next 10 years, Diablo and Anya were my faithful companions.

About a week before Sam was born, Diablo started vomiting blood. What timing. I was so exhausted, uncomfortable, and nervous about the upcoming birth that I couldn't get Diablo in to the vet before I became a parent. Then I ended up with a c-section so it was about two weeks before I felt like I could carry the 20-pound cat to the vet. The news wasn't good. He had some sort of a mass in his intestine, likely cancer, and I couldn't afford to invest a whole lot of money in testing and treatments. Between the cost, and knowing that Diablo was 10 years old and not likely to live more than a couple more years anyway, I made the difficult decision to put him down.

After her brother died, Anya was lonely and desperate. She began yowling, night and day. None of us were happy with this situation, so after a year and a half of this, I finally gave her up to my mother. She seemed much happier in her new home, since she had other cats to hang out with (unlike most cats, she was very social).

When we would visit, Sam called her "Lasagna". Lasagna, Anya, they sound pretty similar, I guess. Sadly, Anya joined her brother in kitty heaven this past year.

I made lasagna for dinner a couple of nights ago. As Sam was eating, he thoughtfully said, "Mom, are we eating cat?"

I don't think I'm ever going to look at lasagna the same way again.

Part III: The Wrap-Up

Part III of the awfulness of the past six months is really not so bad anymore, now that it's in the rearview mirror. But at the time, it was very stressful so I will still mention it and then I will move on.

Natalie and Sam were playing froggie in the living room. This game consists of taking the couch cushions off of the couches, whereby they become lily pads. The children then morph into froggies and hop from lily pad to lily pad. Well, on the last lily pad, the smallest froggie lost her balance and toppled forward into the couch. And this couch has a hard frame on the front part, which is normally not exposed because the couch cushions are usually on the couch. Natalie hit one of her teeth just wrong on the hard frame and chaos ensued. And blood. Lots and lots of blood. Her tooth was bent backwards at a 45-degree angle and I was sure it would come out in my hand if I touched it so I just mutely stared and ran through all the possibilities in my head. Of course I was home alone as is the case 95% of the time these days, so I didn't even have a second adult to consult with.

I ended up calling her clinic's on-call doctor, who told me not to brush her teeth that night - and NO BINKY - and try to get her in to her dentist right away the next morning. So she very abruptly weaned from her binky. Surprisingly, she accepted it very stoically when I told her the doctor said she couldn't have her binky for awhile.

Now it's fine, and even straightened out on its own so there is no remaining evidence of the mishap. The dentist warned one more blow like that would probably be the end of that tooth - and as rough and tumble as she is, I'm guessing that tooth is going to come out before its time.

Sidenote - a couple of weeks ago, I found a binky underneath the couch cushions (um, maybe I should clean more often? But then again, no). Since Natalie had been binky-less for a good three months, I didn't think she'd have any interest in it, but was I wrong. She popped that binky in her mouth and picked up right where she left off. She had a major fit when I took it away from her but luckily, she never asked about it again.

So! Enough whining and complaining for awhile. 2010 is going much, much better, I'm happy to report. Natalie is almost completely potty-trained and we are down to only one foot of snow left in our yard after the past week of melting. Hallelujah!