Friday night after I got home I noticed I had missed a call from my brother Noah at 11:30pm. Concerned, I called him back to find out the devastating news: they had to put down Midnight.

Midnight first came into our lives when I was a freshman in high school. One of Noah’s clients’ grandchildren was followed home from school by this big love of a black dog who wanted nothing more than a pet on the head and attention. Unfortunately they lived in a house with no yard and told Noah of their problem. My parents, already the happy owners of the spunky yellow lab Sierra, agreed to open their arms and hearts to another animal.

Sierra and Midnight were partners in crime and loved each other so deeply. Wherever Sierra went Midnight was usually close behind watching her back or there to reap the benefits of her begging for treats. Where Sierra was in your face and hyper active Midnight counter-acted her spunky energy and gave her a zen and calming force to keep her in check. Yellow and Black they were each other’s ying and yang.

Fall of 2006, Sierra was slowing down and not as much of the peppy puppy that she had been for years. She wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination but the years were slowly catching up with her.

Then she was diagnosed with lung cancer.

Sierra bravely pushed forward and tried to hide her pain from the her beloved family. We saw her slowing down and tried to hope for the best outcome for her. Through it Midnight was her rock, cuddling up to her and knowing when she was pushing herself and silently getting her to slow down and take each moment as they came. By December she was in too much pain, the cancer spreading too rapidly, and we had to put her down.

We all handled her death really hard. The diagnosis was shattering and from the time we heard “cancer” we had a few short weeks left with her before it became too much. Everyone in the family was devastated by the loss of Sierra. None as much as Midnight.

I honestly don’t think Midnight ever got over the loss of Sierra. The years caught up to Midnight with her death and for weeks, months, years he’d go around the house as though part of him was missing. My parents eventually adopted another dog, Maggie, who served as an energetic companion but I don’t think Sierra could ever be replaced in Midnights heart. Sometimes you’d look at him and see the air of such sadness and loss it just broke your heart.

When I moved back this summer I was surprised at how old Midnight had gotten in the time I had been gone. Every time I went up to visit my parents I’d fear it’d be the last time I’d see Midnight alive. I tried taking as many pictures as I could but something in his past, before he came into our lives, gave him such an aversion to cameras that I didn’t want to stress him out and tried to let him sleep in peace. He had slowed down and the gravity of a life at its end weighted down upon him and brought an almost sense of peace to the great black dog.

Tuesday I went up to my parents house to do dinner with my brother and parents and Midnight wasn’t feeling well. He had had surgery to remove a tumor and slept most of the time. At one point he tried to get up but just couldn’t find the strength or energy to get up and stand on his legs. My brother helped him up and all of us avoided eye contact while praising Midnight. The end was near but none of us was really ready to accept it yet.

Friday night my Dad took the dogs out for their nightly walk before he went to bed. Midnight, tired and hating the dark, opted to stand in the driveway as my Dad took Maggie down the street to do her business. When my Dad got back Midnight had collapsed on the driveway and couldn’t get up despite his valiant efforts. Dad went upstairs in tears to find my Mom who called Noah thinking he was out. Fortunately, Noah was home and was able to bring his car around, wrap a warm blanket around Midnight, and drive him to the animal ER where he had to ultimately be put down.

Writing this entry is the first time I’ve cried about the passing of Midnight. I’ve been telling myself repeatedly good stories about Midnight and taken comfort in the fact that he had a long happy life with us. He was a well loved dog with a heart of gold and a doggie smile that could light up a room. I know if there is an afterlife that he’s reunited with Sierra and oh-so-happy. He’s sorely missed by all and left behind a void in all our hearts that yearns to be reunited. I’m glad his suffering is over and take comfort in him being apart of our lives for so long but still, it hurts and I miss our dog.

Midnight, you were a good dog and shall sorely be missed. We’ll never forget you boy.

Technorati Tags: dogs, dog, death, rainbow bridge, animal passing, euthanasia, pet death, animal death, loss, bereavement

Dear Cat Whom Shall be Known as “G” for Anonymity -

What can I say G? I am writing you a letter today to discuss your behavioral issues in hopes that we can live in a sort of peace before you are handed off to my parents at the end of the month. You are an adorable cat, G, but there are some things I am going to outline in the letter that, in order to maintain a loving professional relationship until you move on, you need to work on if we’re to give you free reign (again) of the apartment at night instead of being locked in the spare bathroom with food, water, and a litter box.

First off G, is it really necessary to freak the fuck out whenever the boys are within a ten-foot radius of you? I get that they like to look at you and invade your personal space. Trust me, I get it. I don’t like people within my personal bubble, too. You think I like when Bucky lays across my desk and uses my mouse as his personal headrest? Seriously though, freaking out and hissing, spitting, and screaming… I could really do without it. Oftentimes the boys are just passing you by, oblivious to you. I can let you in on a secret G… the boys are only interested in the following:

1. Other male cats
2. Food
3. Somewhere to sleep
4. Unsuspecting individual who doesn’t see them coming
5. Irritating individuals who hiss, spit, and act like a bitch if they get too close.

Do you see yourself falling into any of those categories, G?

Again, I get where you’re coming from, but when you sit in the doorway to the bathroom and block their exit I think it is a little unfair to FREAK OUT and scream. There is a reason why they like to catch you unaware and jump on your back (besides the obvious reason that they are my cats and like to be jerks). Perhaps if you take a chill pill and let them leave the bathroom in peace? Or stop giving into their petty games. I know I, personally, would harass you constantly if I were a cat just to prove what a high maintenance piece of work you are.

But back to the title of this open letter: seriously G, what is the deal? I get that you are terrorized and otherwise bullied by the boys and live in a “constant state of fear” but pooping in the tub? Is that really a necessary thing? What about the peeing on the carpet, clothes, and other items that we use? It’s really disgusting, G, and it’s not like you don’t have your own personal litter box which the boys aren’t allowed near, lest you FREAK OUT.

Mack and I are frankly at a loss, G. You poop in the tub in the middle of the night, so we have to put you in the spare bathroom with all the items you need while we sleep. You know that it’s not just the pooping (though that is a good enough reason in my books) that has made me banish you: the FREAK OUTS all night also really, really helped with that decision. It broke my heart at first that we had to do this, G, but my sympathy went away when we let you out of the bathroom early in the morning and you ran into our shower to poop.

Seriously.

Let us reach a compromise, G, so that we can enjoy the rest of our month together before you go off to my parents house and proceed to get spoiled. How about you take a chill pill in regards to the boys? You know they’re not interested in you in that way and only pick on you because you’re such a spazz. Trust me, G, I know. Why do you think my five brothers terrorized me growing up? Since I FREAKED OUT about it. And the pooping? What more can we do, G? Does the litter box need to be lined in SOLID GOLD BARS to meet your high princess standards?

I get you have issues you need to work out after being thrown out of the past few homes, G. I guess I’d pee and poop on the carpet too (if I were an animal since, as a human, it’s less socially acceptable) if I’d been shown the boot twice in one year. My plea to you, however, is let’s work on the prissy nature and find some sort of unity and love between you cats.

… especially since you’ll be stuck in a car with the boys for four days straight at the end of the month.

I love you Gracie-Grace and hope, with this letter as the ice-breaker, we can improve upon our relationship and have peace in the apartment.

Yours, etc.
Anne

Technorati Tags: animals, pets, domestic shorthairs, animal relationships, relationships, high maintenance animals, behavior issues, poop, open letter, animal bodily functions

Me: Which cat is on my elbow?
Mack: Take a guess.
Me: Brutus.
Mack: Good guess.
Me: It was the soft, feminine fur.

Technorati Tags: cats, pets, cat conversations, diva, convos, relationships

Earlier this week, as I was checking news websites, I came across an article on the Jacksonville news that instantly caught my attention. “No-Kill Shelter Runs Low on Food.” In case you’re new to this website and/or don’t know me that well, I’m a huge lover of animals (especially cats). Clicking the story, my heart broke hearing of how they were running out of food to feed these abandoned animals and they, like everyone, was suffering due to the down economy.

The shelter is worried they might have to start begging for food.

“Our furry friends at the safe animal shelter are crying out for help,” volunteer Lara Hudson said. “It’s been about three or four years since we’ve been down this low.”

[sources: news4jax.com]

After reading the story, I emailed thean called the shelter, asking them if they were open on the 3rd of July since both Mack and I were off from work and would be able to take the hour drive to drop off items we both had and were going to buy. I was heavily encouraged that, when calling, I got a busy signal for an hour.

This morning, we stopped at Target and got about six bags worth of dog and cat food  as well as some bleach for cleaning the kennels, and paper towels. We also have been going through our apartment and de-cluttering and had about forty towels in various sizes that we weren’t using and knew they could. Loading everything up in the car, I was anxious and excited to do a little to help these animals.

Turning down their road, my excitement hit unexpected heights at seeing how busy the shelter was. It overflowed when I noticed it was busy since people, like us, were donating items. One man had a trunk full of about twenty bags of food he was unloading. He stated to the volunteer, “As soon as I read the story I had my daughter stake out Winn Dixie and buy all the bags of food she could!” The shelter workers were so overwhelmed and thankful, tears in their eyes, as they directed Mack and I were to take the food. Stepping into the shelter, almost every surface was covered with bags. Stacked up to my waist there were bags and bags of food, guaranteeing these animals wouldn’t go hungry for a long time. One volunteer at the shelter was at a loss for words from the outpouring of love, support, and caring the community was giving. As she walked back with us to take the towels to the back of the shelter she expressed gratitude and hope. My eyes took in all the food and toys for the animals and, of course, how happy and loved the animals at that shelter are. (Mack and I cooed at the kittens but he kept his hawk eye trained on me to make sure that I didn’t try to get us another cat).

I told Mack, as we pulled away, my eyes full of tears, that my faith in humanity was restored. My heart was so touched (and still is) as the support and love the community is providing. All the food, toys, and supplies that are being donated by people show me the depth of love people have when, sometimes, I feel people don’t give a shit about the animals in need. These animals, luckily, will not go hungry for a long while and for that my faith in humanity is overflowing.

(If you want to donate at all be sure to check out their website, Safe Animal Shelter!)

[tags]animals, animal shelters, shelters, cats, dogs, pets, abandoned pets, animal shelters in need, helping, help, community, giving, giving back]/tags]

Parlor tricks.

(ignore the mess in the background. We’re currently de-cluttering the apartment. Do, however, pay attention to the glaring Brutus in the chair under the table on the right).

Technorati Tags: cats, animal training, cat tricks, free time, funny animals

In early May, you might recall my mentioning a former co-worker throwing out a cat since she— the coworker—was pregnant and simply couldn’t “deal” with her— the cat— anymore. At the time, I was livid about the situation and, because my boyfriend is a huge sucker too, decided to take in the cat on a temporary basis to save her from the streets. My Mom (also a sucker) will be taking in Gracie the next time I go up there to visit. For the most part since we took Gracie in it has been an… interesting experience.

First off, I don’t really know how to describe how the boys act towards female cats without potentially offending someone. My brother jokingly calls them the “gay mafia” since frankly the boys hate female cats. Like, violently hate them. I don’t know what about them sets the boys off (other than them having a vagina) but there you go. I ended up with Blue because he used to terrorize my friend’s female cats. He is very calculated in his terrorizing of Gracie. Brutus and Bucky was occasionally chase her but Blue? He plots. Frequently, I will find Blue laying about a foot away from Gracie waiting for her to move, daring her to try and get past him without loosing her shit. I guess it doesn’t help that Gracie flips out whenever the boys get near her.

Which is why Bucky likes messing with her at 5AM. Because her hissing? It’s really charming.

Other than that issue Gracie came with a bonus feature: a large collection of fleas. When she first came into the apartment, the ex-roommate noticed that she had them, so we used some flea treatment on her. Did it work? Apparently not, since next thing I know I’m sitting on our bed working and a flea jumps on my leg like “Hey, sup? Where is the nearest cat for me to suck it’s blood, oh, and you know something else? My ancestors were the carrier of the bubonic plague.”

Mack was not pleased to get my text message of “@&*(!&@#)*#!#”

Last Thursday we figured this time we’d have to give all four cats individual baths before the flea treatment. The pictures speak for themselves:

You can see all of them at my flickr set. I can’t look at these without crying in laughter. Luckily, the baths and flea treatment seemed to have done the trick and I haven’t seen any fleas since Saturday. The boys, also, seemed to have forgiven to a degree… at least until my guard is down and they are ready to strike.

In Gracie’s case, however, she pooped on the carpet right after we finished with all four baths.

Mutter.

Technorati Tags: pets, animals, domestic shorthair, domestic longhair, cat baths, indoor animals, fleas, fleabags

I can admit I am a crazy cat lady. Cats have always been a part of my life. From an early age, I was fascinated with the independent creatures. Their soft fur, charm, and ability to know just when you need a good cuddle enthralled me and made them my soul creature. I used to chase them around the house, trying to catch them, and learning to respect them when they scratched my face for being a little shit.

My first cat that was personally “Anne’s cat” was named Charlie. My family adopted him and his sister, Cleo, when I was around five years old. Charlie was not my number one fan for a few years. Yes, he was my cat, but remember what I said above how I liked to chase cats? This was a major turn off for many of them. As all kids learn to understand, pets are fragile and different from toys. You love, care, and treat pets like the family they are. You don’t get rid of the cat for scratching the kid; you teach the kid to not push the cat’s buttons and learn to read their moods. As I calmed down with age, Charlie bonded with me and followed me around, my practical shadow.

I’ve experienced the joy of being parts of these cats lives and felt the crushing soul-wretching agony and despair when one would pass away. I’d sink into a hole of agony with the passing of each cat knowing they were taking a part of me with them in death. They’d always be a part of my life, and helped shape me through their teachings and love. Even now, years after many have passed, I get tears in my eyes over the thought of the lost family members— but grateful for the time I was with them.

In this regard I dislike my fellow man for many of them disregarding and treating pets as lower creatures. Each time I hear or read stories of people who give up their pets since they can’t “handle it,” I want to punch them in the face and call them selfish bastards who didn’t deserve the creatures anyway. When I hear stories of people killing animals or harming them in any way, a white rage fills my body and I have to restrain myself from hunting these individuals down and doing eye for an eye. Those who harm creatures deserve the same, to be locked away and the key thrown out. Harsh you may say? Well, harsh is what I’d use to describe their treatment of a defenseless creature that trusted them.

Some people will say animals don’t have feelings and “aren’t human” but each animal in my opinion has a soul and depth of emotions that often surpass many individuals I have met. My cats are so full of personality and weird little quirks it’s hard to think of them as “cats” but rather as members of the family. We have the worrier (Blue), the diva (Brutus), and the talkative youngster (Bucky). Each of them share their lives with Mack and I and enrich them for letting us be their “owners” (or rather, their slaves).

As I write this, I’m filled with equal parts rage and deep sadness in regards to situations relating to cats today. I got an email this morning from someone looking to find a new home for a cat. This individual knows I’m crazy cat lady and take good care of my family so thought to ask me for a solution to the situation. The cat in question used to be her boyfriend’s cat, however she is very allergic to the cat so found it a new home with a friend. Well, the friend is pregnant and very selfish. The friend ends up pregnant and decides she doesn’t want to “deal” with the cat and baby and tells the original owner she is throwing the cat out on the street this weekend if she does not find a solution. There is, of course, differing stories depending on the party which you are talking to.

I get that you’re pregnant and can’t “deal” with it but seriously? I won’t even go into how livid I am about that situation. I am sure you have a fairly good idea.

My deep sadness comes from tonight. While Mack and I were heading to Blockbuster, we spotted a dead kitten in the road, apparently a hit and run. Left there with no dignity in death— my heart bled and we turned around to at least move it out of the road so it wouldn’t be continually hit and left with no respect. Using one of my sweatshirts in the back, Mack gingerly moved the kitten (who was probably a feral kitten) out of the road so it wouldn’t suffer any further disgrace. (And yes, I’m currently washing the sweatshirt that was used to move the body).

I guess what angers me is knowing that kitten was a product of neglect, of someone deciding they couldn’t “deal” with a cat and throwing it out into nature to breed and create more feral cats. Kittens and cats who don’t have a chance at love, a chance at a home, a chance at life since someone is too selfish to deal with other beings other than themselves.

I’m saddened by my fellow man tonight and wish people would get their heads out of their asses and realize that animals, like them, have feelings and deserve a chance at love and family, too.

Technorati Tags: animals, pets, house pets, feral cats, crazy cat lady, animals as family, disregard for animals, empathy, sickened by humanity, selfish natures