Can I Keep It?

Aida, Aida Velveeta. But that's just her stage name...

 

I had a recurring dream before I found Aida.  I phoned all of my friends and told them about my new kitten.  "Her name's Aida.  Aida Velveeta, but that's just her stage name..." I had searched for my cat for weeks.  On a trip to Knoxville to have my wedding dress fitted.  She wasn't there.  Nashville on the way home.  No her.  The pound in Collierville.  No Aida.  The Memphis/Shelby County Pound.  She wasn't there. And then, in a small cage at the Memphis Humane Society, I found her.  Tiny, shaky and newly operated on.  Someone had abused her.  Her tail had died and needed to be docked. "That's my cat," I stated to the lady at the counter.  "That one?  Are you sure?"she replied incredulousy.  "Yes,"I sighed, "I'd know her anywhere."

And I adopted her and brought her home where she could be safe. I promised her that no one would ever hurt her again.

You see, I needed that promise myself.  My father had committed suicide a few weeks before.  I figured maybe we could patch each other up.

Well, relatively safe anyway.  Carmen adored her.  The first in a long line of canines dispelling the myth that dogs and cats can't get along. At least dogs and Aida.

We often joked that they were so close that they had always traveled through lives together, trading which one got the short tail in each incarnation.  A border collie, Carmen had a long fluffy tail.  But the only black on Carmen was on that tail.  A thin line of it right where a docking would occur. This time it was Aida's turn apparently. 

The abuse always caused her trouble.  She leaked when she slept.  She had bowel problems. And she was terribly shy.  Fewer than twenty-five people had ever seen Aida in real life.  My brother stayed with me for a weekend once and declared that we were imagining her.  He swore the pictures were someone else's cat staged in our home. We started calling her the "Ghost Cat".

But Aida had many nicknames- The Big Cheese, Cheesy Poof, Fuzzy Bag of Bones, Stinky McStinkington. The list was endless.

My least favorite was "Bee Hive".  Aida liked to crawl into my hair in the wee morning hours and knead it like bread.  Only her claws nicked me.  Oh, it was painful!  Once we had a housesitter who had never met Aida, even though she had stayed here on many occassions. Late one night, as she slept, needy Aida over came her fears and perched on the housesitter's head.  The housesitter awakened to what she said felt like a hive of bees stinging her head!  She quickly realized that it was Aida.  She laid there, taking the abuse because she was relieved that Ghost Cat had finally come out for her.  Aida never hid from her again.

Aida was sweet, warm and friendly to us.  When Boudreaux came to live with us, he fell instantly in love with her.  She allowed him to mouth her head as she went about her business.  It was constanly a slobbery mess.  Aida didn't mind at all and sought out his company daily.

But Aida's health had been failing of late.

Yesterday, after contacting the vet who saw Zoe through her cancer, we took her to AngelCare and had Kathy Mitchener help us to take her home. Aida had lost more than half her body weight and was bleeding internally.  She was constanty leaking fluids. 

A fighter until the end, Kathy took little Aida back to put in the catheter in her arm. Aida started jumping up and down like a monkey.  Pop! Pop! Pop! Then Kathy quietly told her that she didn't have to fight anymore.  Aida stopped.  Laid down, stuck out her paw and allowed her to insert the needle without moving a muscle.

Kathy brought her back to me and Hud and laid her in my lap.

It was a sweet and peaceful ending for my sweet and peaceful friend.

I love you, Aida Velveeta.  Kiss Carmen and Zoe for me.  But stay away from Tee Tee.  She never really was a fan of yours. Well, of anyone for that matter.

Aida was sixteen.

* Thank you, Kathy Mitchener.  You are the kindest, dearest person.  You gave her the peace she deserved. Hud and I appreciate everything you did for the three of us.

Brave New World

The only reason I've been so silent is that my life is living me right now.  I have no control of it.  It's as if I've been pushed into a swollen, raging stream and all I can do is try to swim for shore.

So much to talk about. No time to do it.

Hud had a heart event.  Atrial flutters. The doctors are managing it and he is doing just fine, but it got us to talking.  And thinking.  And refiguring our life plans.

We want need for Hud to retire.  And keeping our beautiful, gorgeous house is more than we can handle.  The grounds (three fourths of an acre), two houses, a pool and gardens are too much for us to say grace over effectively, given the changes of the last few months.

We are downsizing to a smaller property.  We are leaving our beloved Schyterbolle.  All of us are quite sad about it.

We don't know where we're going yet.  The search has only just begun, as are the preparations to sell our handsome home. We've been here nearly sixteen wonderful years.  This home has seen so much of our lives.

I always knew that at some point I would have to leave it, as a home like this is an inheritance of sorts.  You take care of it for a while, and pass it on to the next person to love.

I'm just not sure I was through loving it yet.

Fresh

My life is getting in the way of my blogging.  

And Zali is not happy about it.  He raged on for a hour this morning bout how his people are missing him. Secretly, I think they'd miss Simone more, but I didn't tell him that.

You know it's hard to write a blog with a bird on your hand.  Who knew?

My garden is a weedy mess, so Boudreaux, Zali, Simone and I headed out in the heat to fix the situation.  Two hours later, it looked as if I had been inside reading a book.

Insert disappointed face here.

But the good news is that I discovered green beans!  Surprise!

* Pardon the picture.  I still can't find my camera cord, so I have to rely on my Stupid Phone

It sorely needs to take a lesson or two from some one's Smart Phone.

Insert smiley face here.

Hudson came home at noon.  I made him some pork and leek dumplings and turned the fresh find in the garden into Schezuan green beans with ground turkey and Ponzu rice.

Insert full stomach here.

And just so he'll quit dogging me -- here:

Zali in a compromising position.

But I know this is what you really want:

Simone gazing upon you in distain.

You are welcome.

Whew

The last couple of weeks Hud and I have been social butterflies.  Good thing he has a five day weekend coming up.  I need a rest. 

We photographed the Rhodes College graduation for one.  Went to a wedding at the Metals Museum for another.

The river is very high from all of the snow run off up north.  It's racing so fast that the barges going downstream disappeared in  a matter of minutes, while the ones travelling upstream?  Are probably still fighting the current six days later.

We went to a Gatsby Party, which was grand fun.  And my Art Deco jewelry got to go out for the evening, which it adored. Art Deco jewelry loves a good party.

Our friends, the Flowers.  Hud has known Calvin since they were babies, like sixty years.  Not being hyperbolic, even.  For reals.

We're having the house refinanced.  Zali and Simone were not impressed.  They had to go to jail for a few hours while the appraiser was here.

Muhzer! Wee are ze stressed owt!

I should have put Simone in her Thundershirt. Hud and I did Paws for a Cause a couple of weekends ago and I gave in and bought her one to ease her anxiety.  Two years ago, without warning, Simone became petrified of thunderstorms.  The slightest rumble would cause her to shake so terribly that I was afraid she'd rattle her teeth out of her head.  When I discovered her hiding behind the toilet after I got out of the shower, I knew that I had to try something.  And you know what?

EffingFunderCanBiteMe.GrowlAtSomebodyElse,AshullSky.

It works!  

The Thundershirt doesn't completely put her at ease, but during yesterday's storms, she merely panted a few times.  No shaking!  Simone even managed a nap during a particularly strong line of storms.  I may get one for Boudreaux.  Zoe didn't teach him how to catch a ball like an Olympian, but she did transfer her fear of the vacuum cleaner.

And we went to bunch and lunches with a variety of friends.  That's about enough, isn't it?

Well, there is this:

A baby Fig Parrot.  From Zooborns.com.

You are welcome.

Boudreaux Gardens

Dis whut Bou fink of fowlers.

Bou rain on dem for yew.  Help grow.  Make preety.

Yewr welcome.

Sprung

A few days ago, I headed out to the garden to do some weeding with the kids.  As I left the door and waited for them to follow, I realized that the wisteria arbor above my head was issuing a low huuuuuummmm.

Spring had errupted in my yard.  The kids set about to chasing drunken bees.

 

Over night, the arbors over the patio and at the end of the pool, look as if they are cover by a thick lavendar chenille spread.

My favorite time of the year snuck up on me.

NotMe,Mommee.IHeardDemPrickleeJerksFromInsideTheHowse!

Mon Petit Chou

Today was lovely.  A soft warm breeze, slightly overcast, quiet. Finally spring-like!

Hud and I started planting the garden yesterday, so today, the kids and I soldiered on without him.

We weeded the bed in front of the Shicken.  Simone was of great assisstance. 

You could probably tell from the dirt in her ruff that she is quite handy at hole digging.  In fact, she majored in it as a undergrad.

Boudreaux was...Boudreaux.  He splashed across the pool cover, leapt over brick walls and fencing, around the backyard, under the azaleas, over the pool deck and into the garden with a crashing stop at my hunched over body. 

Bou hab eggsellent adbenture. Gardening pffun.

It was all going very well until I turned to ask Zali how he was getting along with the weeding and discovered that he had dug up one of my newly planted cabbages!  He had chomped it down to the roots.

Whut? Eet wuz zee qualitee cuntroll, Muhzer!

Now, I knew he and Simone could not be trusted with broccoli, but cabbages?!?! Le sigh. He looks remorseful, but I had to stop him from murdering the rest of the crop, the little buggar.  That's the look of a guilty man, not a sorry one.  No wait. Guilty and sorry. That's more like it.

Time of death - 10:39.  Farewell, mon petit chou.  I hardly knew ye. 

Bou and Simone took the death seriously and decided to be on their best behavior for the remainder of the outing. Zali went up to the house, pouting.  He stayed by the back door yipping to go in.  Seems I had spoiled all his fun.  

I finished planting cucumbers, beets, bush beans and Thai eggplant.  The three of us joined him at the door when it was time to start making lunch.

A very fine spring morning, inspite of the carnage.

 

 

Long Time, No Blog

I've been crushed by commission deadlines for the past month.  I know.  It's probably bragging, rather than complaining.  Work is good.  Pets are still crazy.  Everything was humming along and then -

It turned cold. We had the boiler serviced and the pilot lit. Scintillating, I know.  But the system never fully heated and in the morning, Hud went down to check on it and the pilot had gone out.  So we had James come back.  He found a leak in a pipe, so he thought.  Hud called a contact from work who came out that day to see it.  They referred us to a heating company.  They came out and then - 

The serviceman found out the boiler reservoir had cracked.  

I know.

Game over. Scene.  Get the Fat Lady warmed up.

But we're counting our bessings.  The mechanical engineer who came out and diagosed the problem said it should have exploded when Hud and James tried to light it the second time.  Said he had seen them blow through the foundation seven or eight feet into the ground.

I know.

We've been without heat since Friday.  It's colder than a witch's hoo ha at night.  Even the dogs are snuggling up for warmth.  

Bou fink dis gud idea. Bou lyke.

Bou was shivering, despite cuddling up against Zoe.  So we covered the two of them up.

The guys just arrived to install the new one.  Twenty-first century, here we come!

Bou fink dis gud idea. Bou lyke.

Change is in the Air

Last Friday, the winds blew in a change in the weather. We awoke to temperatures in the eighties.  A full twenty degrees cooler than the average around here.  

The kids were frisky.  It hasn't been this lovely in months.  Boudreaux was all smiles.

Zoe felt better than ever.  She even insisted on going to the park with Hud and Boudreaux.

Zali wanted to go for a walk, but he settled for chasing Bou and Simone around the backyard.

Hud came out to enjoy the day, but he was so into the book, Gone Girl, that he hardly noticed it.

The toad lilies are blooming brightly after the storms.

All of the yard was heaving a sigh.  The drought is lifted.

AhThinkItSuks.It'sGettingMyBeautifulFurWet.StupitWain.

School Days

You want to know what's stressing me out more than nursing Aida back from the edge or taking Zoe to be biopsied on Wednesday?

Boudreaux is taking an obediance class.

Bou dream beeg dreams when he baby in box. He fink when he get owt dat he get to pee on fings, leef lights on, run wid scisors, put caht in mowf.  Have big fun.  No one tell Bou fambly come wid rules.  Rules bad. No fun.

First dey make Bou wear panch and now dis?

Wate.  Bou get howt dowg for doing what Daddee want?  

Bou maybe fink school not so bad.  'Cept new necklace hurt.  Daddee need to fix for Bou.

And gib him howt dowg for pointing it owt.

 Daddee T-shirt right.  Howt dowg is silver lining for fambly dream.