The New Normal

This last week we took care of a friend's cat while she was out of town.  I know what you are thinking... what the heck does that have to do with healing from trauma?  Or the fact that my husband was in prison.  Or finding my way back from a spiritual crisis.  I know it may sound strange, but it actually helped me put things into perspective and led to another layer of acceptance.  For me, acceptance leads to grace, a letting go of sorts, and leading to contentedness.  And this is one of my life goals.  To achieve being content and to maintain it.  It may sound odd, but it is really and truly, a gift in this life.

To be content with where we are in our journey.  Because all we ever really have, is what is going on right now in this moment in time.  And let me tell you, I've wasted many years, mostly my childhood my 20's, and even into my early 30's, always wanting to be somewhere else, doing something else, to be someone else, or preparing for that next step that'll get me to where I want to go.  I wanted it so badly that I couldn't even enjoy what was happening at that time.  It created an unhappiness and an inability to be satisfied with anything. An insatiable hunger for a happy life. There is a lot more to that story, but I'll stop there for now, otherwise I'll go on a side tangent and then you'll really be wondering what kitty-sitting had to do with anything at all.

And so, my story unfolds like this.  Like I said, we took care of a friend's cat this last week.  Her little fur baby is quite small in stature.  She is very sweet and cuddly and playful.  She is lively and active.  She is a young kitty and of course, as we'd expect, so is her spirit.  My fur baby on the other hand is quite the opposite.  She has three legs, is pretty inactive (her idea of playing is laying down on the feather that is on the end of the stick and whipping her tail around on the floor ~ the bird is mine doggone it, the bird is mine!)  She is also rather sensitive, so she can overstimulate quickly which foreshadows her moodiness. She has a been there, done that heir about her, that only comes to those with age.  She loves her KJ (our American Akita) and barely tolerates other cats... so you can see, we were in for an adventure this last week.  She kissed noses with the little one a few times, victory I say! Victory! Oh, and lest I not forget, she also wants everyone to know that she is the queen bee (next to me that is).  I tell her she's the princess, I'm the queen.  :)  But as far as kitty land in our household, she is queen.

Anyway back to the history of my story.  Ember lost her right front leg, all the way up through her scapula, almost four years ago this coming October. This was all happening only three months after Doug's accident but before there had been any resolution to his case.  It would be only about five or six weeks later that Doug would be leaving to serve his sentence.  Now, for any of you out there with any kind of pet(s), most of you would agree that they are another member of the family.  Irreplaceable. For me, life is priceless whether the spirit is embodied in my fur baby or another human being.  Little did we know, that when Doug had originally pulled money from his 401-K to pay off a credit card (preparing to leave for prison and knowing he was going to be delinquent on his account, and hoping to save some of his credit, he had called his credit card company and offered 60+% of his balance if he paid it in full and they refused.  At one time, one would be able to do this, but I'm guessing because of the economy at the time, the credit card companies weren't willing to play ball.)  We actually laughed over their lack of business sense, ok, ok, I'm not showing my true self. We called it stupidity. Sheer stupidity. But thank goodness for that, because we used that money to pay for Ember's surgery (which happened in the next few weeks) and it covered her costs almost exactly to the penny.  Got the chills?  We sure did.

It turns out  Ember had a nerve tumor just above her paw, or what for us human folk, would be in our wrist, just above the carpals and between our radius and ulna.  Ember had been limping and not putting any pressure on her paw or leg for about a year and a half.  We went to probably about six different veterinarians.  Holistic and what I call Western Medicine Veterinarians.  I had gotten the most help from the Holistic Vets but still to no avail.  I was always checking her paw, looking for thorns, abscesses.  One day, I swear, literally over night, she had this huge lump above her paw.  We took her to our dog's vet.  And she referred us to a specialist.  We went through one surgery in order to get a biopsy to diagnose the suspected tumor.  A few days later she was back in surgery and having her whole arm removed.  I pleaded to just remove the tumor but the specialist said that kind of tumor would grow back aggressively and if it reached her spine, we would be out of options and have to put her down.  If my life had not already been reeling from our current hurry up and wait litigation process with Doug's accident, I may have chosen other options.  We can judge the decisions we made in the past, and question ourselves.  Did I do the right thing?  Did I do the wrong thing?  But in the end, our decisions are made with the information we have at the time, the energy we have at the time, what is going on in our lives at that time and that all leads us to where we are now.  Looking back, it doesn't matter.  Ember lost her leg, but we still have her almost four years later.  Ok, so she's a little heavier than she should be, she has a neurotic licking habit (which I really think stems from phantom pains and calms down when we give her a little fuzzy stuffed bunny) and she's had some digestive upsets from the stress.  Apparently, she is more like her mama, than I want to admit!  But all in all, she is absolutely wonderful and beautiful in her own way.

Over this last week, while I was watching the differences between our temporary kitty and our forever home kitty ~ I had moments of sadness, awe, joy, intrigue and a remembrance.  A sadness of noticing the difference between my Ember and our house guest.  Like there was some kind of shame in that, or some kind of wrong in that. I had a remembrance of, oh yeah, this is what it is like to have a "normal" cat.  I cringe for saying the word normal.  Seriously, I might vomit a little. Sometimes, the English language is so limited and frustrating (I could probably write a whole other blog on that, possibly to be continued).  I apologize for using the term and when I discover or create a better one, I will use that instead.  According to Webster's dictionary, one of the definitions of "normal" is: conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern.  Or: according with, constituting, or not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle.  Here's the thing, there's no such thing as normal.  Maybe normal in the sense of what is a "regular pattern" for you or a loved one.  One of my favorite quotes from a movie is when Doc Holliday is ill in bed and is talking to Wyatt Earp.  Wyatt was explaining to Doc how he wanted a different life, how he wanted a "normal" life.  And Doc Holliday said, "There's no such thing as a normal life, Wyatt.  There's just life."  I have always remembered this quote.  Especially in dark times, as it can be so easy to compare my life to another's.  We all have our own journeys, our own triumphs, and our own trials or despairs.  All our experiences and journeys are unique to ourselves and ourselves alone.  For there is no other, no soul, no spirit, and no human (or animal) who will experience this world the same way.  The key is to not have pity, or think one way of life or experience is less than that of another.  If, we are able to notice that our sadness at times, is really about our grief regarding what once was and not what is.  Then, we are able to let our grief go, just that much faster, and sometimes, we may even realize that we feel all the richer for it.

So, as I look back on this last week, I learned a lot from our temporary kitty.  I was close to tears when we were sending her home with her mama.  Yes, yes, I love the aminals (and yes I meant to spell it that way).  Our household quickly went back to our familiar routine.  And yet, I feel changed. The moments of sadness I had earlier this week while looking at my Ember, are gone.  I no longer look at her as if she can't do something, i.e. as hop, run, or play.  She does all of those things in her own unique and beautiful way.  A smile comes to my face as I'm acutely aware how content she is as long as she has food, as long as I brush her, as long as we scratch her back, as long as she can cuddle up to her papa, especially when he sings.  She's happy when she steals KJ's bed from him and she is adorable when she's purring and I ask her for a kiss and she'll hop up on her hind legs for a brief moment and touch my chin with hers.  And she is never so content as to when she hobbles over to that feather and lays down right upon it, saying, "It's mine, I did it! It's mine," looking so proud and regal, like the queen bee that she is.