Spike-alicious.

Spike had another vet visit. Our time with him has been shortened considerably. We were looking at 3 - 5 more months, and now we are at 2.

Two months. The cancer is spreading quickly, despite the meds.

I handled this by buying more squeaky toys and dog treats.*

Jeremiah handled this by driving us through McDonald's and getting Spike a burger and fries.

The vet handled this by giving Spike treat after treat. Seriously, I've never seen anything like it.

When your dying dog's favorite thing to do is to eat - you let him eat. In the last three weeks, he has gained a pound. That's a lot when you only weigh 17 pounds. The vet says he fully supports us having a fat dog at this point.

It's weird to think about him NOT being here. He's so stubborn and tough that I imagined him going on forever. But we are prepping ourselves for the upcoming months and doing everything we can to give Spikers a quality life.



*If you have dogs and have not tried the Neuman's dog treats (available at Target or Sprouts), you are missing out. They are little heart-shaped treats with a line down the middle so they can crack in half, which is great for us, because each dog gets a piece of the treat (At this point, Atticus has gained a bit of weight, too. But we will worry about that later.). The ingredients are SIMPLE and I can read them all - not a lot of fake-y chemical stuff. My dogs LOVE them. They adored the sweet potato treats and now we are on the peanut butter treats. We went out yesterday and bought more.

Days of Spike

Last Saturday we were all playing in the pool. I noticed that Spike's backside looked a little odd. I laughed about it, not really taking it serious. After all, this dog of ours is indestructible. He's practically a super species.

Regardless, I called the vet and Jeremiah took him in the next day.

Tuesday we got test results back.

Cancer.

Friday we had a follow-up. X-rays to see if it had spread to lungs or lymph nodes.

Has not spread to lungs, but the lymph nodes have been effected.

At this point, surgery to remove the tumor is basically pointless. Recovery time is extensive. With surgery, we'd have maybe a year. And that's if there are no complications and no infection.

Without, we have maybe four months.

Four months. For Super Spike. My heart breaks.

You would never guess he was sick. He's so happy and bouncy. And loud. His barker has not been touched.

We have opted to celebrate all of these days that we have with Spike, however many that may be. A trip to Cost-co and Petsmart had us dropping over a hundred on anything that squeaks and every treat we could find.

We will celebrate with him, and when he can't celebrate anymore, we will celebrate for him.

We are using #daysofspike on instagram and facebook if you'd like to find us. If not, please just send happy and positive thoughts our way.

Yep, She Sure Is.

I know what you are thinking. That is a freaking cute cat, Emily. Yep, she sure is. She is adorable.

She is also the cat that actually looks around a room in an effort to eff things up. Sometimes I swear I see her doing that. Like, "Hmm...What can I destroy next?" It is not enough that she climbs the tree. She sabotages the tree take down, as well. She hates it when Christmas goes away.

I get you, Maddie, I do. I hate saying goodbye to Christmas, too. But this is not the way to show it.

 For sure this is a cat that wants to eff up your Christmas:

P.S. I should add that Maddie really just wants to have fun. I think she might be a friend of Cyndi Lauper's. She is not malicious in her destruction, which sounds weird, but I believe it to be true. I think of her as an individual with ADD with a spectrum disorder (We've got some social awkwardness going on here, people.) thrown in for good measure. That is my cat.

Oh, Albert!

My class and I have a pet.

This is interesting mostly because we did not purchase said pet.

Also it is interesting because it is not a pet that I would ever choose.

We have a lizard.

I found him at about seven p.m. on a Thursday night in early December. Right here:

 I screamed quite loudly and yelled for the teacher next door. Yes, we are too lazy to use the phone or walk outside to the other person's room. We just yell. Anyway, in the end I figured that I have had roaches, mice, and huge amounts of crickets in my room. A lizard seemed kind of minor in comparison. Plus, the number of crickets has gone way down, so bonus, you know?

When I told the students about Albert, they were excited. We named him Albert Einstein. In reality it could easily be Alberta, because I'm not really up on my lizards.

Here we have a close-up shot:

It seems that little Albert has become a bit more social in the past few weeks. I am seeing him out and about more. Walking over to my bag and seeing a lizard crawl out still makes me jump. The kids are careful when they move about the room. Or put on their coats. Last week Al was hanging out on someone's sweater.  Earlier today I rolled my wheelie chair over a cord and gasped as I thought I had shortened poor Al's already short life. So I'm not sure if he's feeling frisky or what, but the dude is everywhere. *

The highlight of my day today (besides, you know, changing the future by inspiring minds) was after I came over to my desk and Albert scuttled out from behind some papers I looked at him and said on a sigh, "Oh, Albert." and shook my head. And then I realized that I had become that person that speaks to lizards. That speaks to lizards as though they are human.

That's worse than a crazy cat lady by about a million.

*Yes, I have realized that Albert could actually be AlbertS, but I am refusing to entertain that possibility because then not only would there be a lot of creepers in my room, but also because then I would be the loony lizard lady.

FtVF - Horsing Around

I make no beef about Vault Fridays. Mostly they are for me. Mostly I like to look back at these pictures. Plus I know that some of the people that I care for most might like a look back as well. In fact, some of these pictures might be new to them.

So into the vault.

For those unaware, Jeremiah's parents have a farm. A big fat farm. I LOVE it. They stock the freezer full of frozen treats, they have horses, plus lots of room to breathe. It's great. The few times that I have been able to visit, we ride the horses.

When I was younger I took lessons and I loved it. I am always telling Jeremiah that I would love a horse. And a goat. And a pig. Mostly his response is silence. Which is okay. I bet he's just thinking how much he would like those things, too.

Right?

Anyway, these pictures are from 2006 and (I think) 2007. I am not one hundred percent sure about the black and whites.

I got the brown horse. And the dog. I LOVED Sparky.

Jeremiah got Angel.

Absolute, one-hundred percent pure joy - The horses eager to get back to the barn. The home stretch. A fantastic memory. I still remember how much fun I had on this strip of land.

Different year. Same horses. And I just want to let you know that I am NOT naked. My clothes are just pastel. Blue shorts, blue tank. Not naked.

Remember how I said that Jeremiah always managed to catch some pictures of me that I really like? This is one of them. I LOVED hanging out in the barn, spending time with the horses. I especially like it when they nuzzled/nudged me for a treat. 

And that's about it. I've been trying to dig up some old pictures on the old computer, and I'm a bit overwhelmed. But loving it.

A Long Time Coming. Or, How Mel Became Room Inspiration.

About two trillion years ago, I decided that I wanted my studio (or whatever you want to call it) to be the next space that I tackled in the house.

So I bought a huge comfy chair (that could easily fit two people) and the ottoman (that you could lie flat on for a nap, it's huge) at Salvation Army. It was a great brand and I got the chair/ottoman set (nearly new) fifty percent off the Salvation Army price. We loaded it onto and into Old Red and brought it home.

That was last summer.

For about six months I was stuck deciding on a color. Then, over winter break, I decided on blue.

But I couldn't choose a blue. None of them looked right. And I bought probably six different samples:

This is not even all the blues. More blue crimes were committed after this photo.

 I seriously hated them all. Plus, Jeremiah had gotten me two prints - one as a graduation present and one for Christmas. And I didn't like the way either of them looked in my room against those blue samples. So I decided that blue was out.

And then Mel walked in the room. In case you have forgotten, Mel looks like this:

I swear, she poses. This is her thoughtful pose.

Anyway, I was like, brown. Hmmm...and then I remembered how much I love the brown room at my parents' house. And I was like, brown...some more.

So I found one sample, just as a trysies.

I was sold. I didn't even need to try any other browns. This one was PERFECT. It was a darker brown with some greyish/purple-y tones.

 After one coat I was loving it, but I was also frightened. I did NOT want to have to do ten coats of paint, and with the horrible textured walls that exist throughout the Southwest, I thought there was a good possibility of ten coats coming true. All those raised bumps make it really difficult to get the low-lying spots.

After two coats, however, I was good. I will need to do some light touch-ups in some extra-textured areas, but other than that, all is golden.

 

And I love it. It's not a large room, and I know some people are into the whole "Small rooms + Dark colors = No" but I don't think it makes it feel any smaller. The high arched ceilings probably help with that.  Also, the room gets constant light, from sunrise to sunset. So it never feels cave-like.

I went back and forth on whether or not to paint the ceiling and trim white. You might remember that EVERYTHING in the house is a horrible creamy color. Everything. Even door hinges, vents, and outlet covers. Finally I sucked it up and Jeremiah painted the ceiling my go-to white (Delicate White, Olympic Paint) and I tackled the trim. It looks SO much better. I'm glad we did it. It makes the brown pop and feels clean and fresh in the room.

I am also happy because the cats love coming in and sitting in the window and watching/scaring the pigeons. Now that the room is finished, they can actually do that again. Plus, we rigged little doggy gates so the cats can have free range upstairs but the dogs can't. Which is good.

What can I ruin in this empty room? The blinds, meow.

Since the pictures were taken, we've cleaned all the carpet in the house with a rented carpet cleaner and then transferred most items into their respective rooms. Two of the rooms (my studio & one guest room) look quite messy right now. So no more pictures for a bit.

I can tell you, however, that I already have spent numerous evenings sitting in my cozy chair with a cat or dog, covering myself with a handmade quilt from a dear friend (Sara!) and read. Oh, how I love it.

Oh, and for the rest of the colors, I'm thinking of more creams, tans, whites, and browns. Like Mel in Siberia.  I might switch out some accent colors seasonally. Not like Mel.

What's still to come in the studio?

• Curtains/blinds
• shelving (I already know what shelving I am getting. For free. Under the cover of darkness. Shh...)
• Art (Already have it all. Just waiting for the shelving so I know where the art will go.)
• Bookshelves. Oh, I love the bookshelves. They need to be sanded, primed, and painted. We got them from Borders when they went out of business. 
• A rug (already have it, taking it to the laundromat to clean it in one of their large washers).

That's what's up in our house. I'm hoping that as we wait for the studio to come together, I can get Jeremiah to help finish painting the walls along the stairs.

Anyone else doing any painting? Anyone else take their inspiration from their cat?

P.S. This weekend Jeremiah and I volunteered for Odyssey of the Mind. It was a really fun time and it was great to see students challenging themselves and getting excited about doing it. I didn't see Jeremiah all day, but afterward he said he had a great time and would judge again next year. You don't have to be in education to assist/judge/coach, so check it out! Or get your child involved! Next year, because you've missed this year.  So sad for you.

Kitty Lovin'

I'm not sure at what point this happened, but at some point the cats began to give lovings. To each other.

They play fight a bunch, but they also groom each other. And cuddle. Maddie is a serious cuddler. That is, she is a cuddler when she takes a break from her all-around evilness. Have you noticed how orange her eyes are? Jeremiah and I were watching a vampire movie on Netflix and Jeremiah kept looking at the vampires, then Maddie. He thinks she's one of the undead.

Undead or not, I'm so incredibly grateful this holiday season that my kitten no longer scales my thighs like they are Mt. Kilimanjaro. That in itself is a gift not to be overlooked.

And personally? I see that she is growing almost daily, but her head isn't growing at all. It's like I'm raising Beetlejuice. Minus the sarcasm. And she doesn't grab her lady parts. But she does occasionally lick them.

Mel: I is tired. I is going to take a nap. Maddie: I is watching you and plotting evil attacks on your thighs.

Anyone else have beautiful/evil pets?

P.S. Last night I went to pick up some Christmas Angels and Jeremiah and I discovered that you can adopt an old person. I ended up getting tickets for four children (more on this later) and an old woman.  We picked a woman who is wheelchair bound and blind. She wants music, books on tape/cd, and a stuffed animal. I don't know if my heart broke or if it grew a bunch like the Grinch's. Please consider donating to a charity of your choosing this holiday season. If we all give what we can, it makes a difference.

Patrol

We had a brief break from the outrageous temperatures. For a few days, I wore pants. We also latched the security door (My house isn't in the ghetto, this is common. Most houses here have metal security doors.), propped open the front door, slid open the slider (and used the screen door) and let the air flow directly through the house, as it is has been closed all summer and then some. It felt good.

Besties Maddie and Spike went on patrol for us. Spike was on people patrol and Maddie was on pigeon patrol. Such good pets.

 Except when they're not. Good pets, that is. Maddie decided to take her patrolling seriously and went up the metal door in hopes of somehow reaching the pigeon. Before admonishing her and removing her little claws from my pricey door, I took pictures. Notice that Spike has ditched her, not wanting to take the fall for her.

Atticus, of course, is willing to point out the naughty cat. Such a tattle tale. If he could speak, I'm guessing he'd be saying something like this "Choo are going to geet een so much trouble!"

Mademoiselle

I'm pleased to introduce to you the newest (and apparently the last) member of our family.

 Meet Mademoiselle:

 Holy crap. She's beautiful, right?!

 It's NOT my fault. The Arizona Humane Society was having a kitty crisis and they were actually forced to start giving them away. I'd wanted two this time around anyway, and was planning on getting a second one after I got Mel.

 I got a kitty because I figured that way Mel might feel like she was still the Queen Bee.

So that's Maddie. She's a stinker, for sure. Spike thinks that kitty belongs to him (as in his baby, not as in his beeotch). Mel is finally adjusting and putting Maddie in her place. And Atticus...Atticus is confused, because he thought he was the baby.

p.s. Did I ever show you these chairs? I got a set of them at Goodwill for a super great price. I am not keeping the reversible cushions. I've already got new ones. The chairs are probably going to get a paint job. I can see Frank shaking his head now...

p.p.s. We had this conversation as I paid for Maddie (I gave a nice donation in lieu of buying her.):
J: So this is it. Last one.
E:Yep. I'm done.
J:Promise?
E:Promise....but what if -
J: No.
E:But -
J:No.
E:I mean, just -
J:No.
E:Ugh. All right.

Oh, Mel.

Sigh.

My cat is special. Like, not ribbons and bows special, but like, special. Like, the politically correct term is differently-abled. I've noticed that her focus isn't great and at times she even looks slightly crossed-eyed. Just a bit. But a bit is enough to get a mom wondering about her fur baby. My fur baby might be different from the other kitties.

My fur baby might be better off in a helmet as she has proven now that she has zero grace, agility, or balance.

She turned away from Jeremiah today and ran into the railing on the stairs.

She tried to hop an inch from the desk to the chair - and fell. She also can't make jumps to get her food, which is on the desk in the guest room (Yes, she is headquartered in one of the guest rooms. Are you SURE you don't want to come visit?). I have to set up a chair so she can jump to that and then do a small hop to the desk.

She tried to STEP from a chair to a coffee table and her middle half sank. Picture front paws on the table, back paws on the chair, and a sagging middle. Until she fell.

I'm reminded of my first cat, Cecil, who used to fall asleep in the windowsill while she was standing up and then she would just tip over. Whoops. 

Oh, Mel. I'm going to be honest and say that I thought Snowshoes were supposed to be intelligent. I thought I was going to be getting a genius cat that could perform emergency surgery if I needed and solve complex puzzles all while finding a way to end problems like world hunger and global warming.

I guess the shelter should have emphasized that she is a Snowshoe MIX.

I don't know what to say. Humans are all different intelligences, right? So it only makes sense that some animals are smarter than others. It's completely obvious with our dogs. I've got rocks in the backyard that are smarter than Atticus.

And speaking of Atter-patter, Mel is quite sure that he is a feline. Which is amusing for us to watch, but not so much for him.

I think Scout, who I'm now assuming, based on interactions with Mel, bordered on genius. Scout played fetch (and could return the item to be thrown again), she could do big hops with grace and balance, she didn't run into any of the furniture, and she knew that Atticus was a dog. And she knew when to stop eating.

I'm guessing Mel has gained at least three pounds since I got her. I'm going to have to start monitoring her food intake as she does not know when to stop.

But, oh, how I love her. She hears me come home and runs to the landing on the stairs to see me. She sticks her odd shaped head through the little rails and stares right at me (sort of). She cuddles on the bed every night. And she provides endless entertainment. Yesterday Atticus was resting with me and she came up, smelled his foot, and then started batting at it. Again, he was not amused, but I thought it was pretty funny.

Anyone else have an odd pet?

p.s. We ended up purchasing one of those break-away collars for her, for fear that her own...oh, let's just say it - her own stupidity would get her in trouble. I would say that she has gotten stuck maybe four times already and had to break herself loose.

p.p.s. The tiling is happening today! Oh boysies.

Litter Boxes on the Hillside...

You may have figured out that I named kitty Mel (or Mal). It's short for Malvina Reynolds, who was a folk-singer. Anyway, Mel is quite the character. She is intimidated by NOTHING. She and Atticus have quite the game of tag going on. I hope it's tag and not attacks. I don't see puffy cat tail but instead some waggy dog tail, so I think I'm okay.

She's super curious and this picture was taken while she was watching fingers. She loves to chase fingers. And this is her favorite spot in the house. The landing on the stairs.

Her idea of a good time is playing constantly. And eating. And making a mess of her litterbox. I honestly have never seen a messier cat and I've lived with cats my entire life.  I've tried three boxes and she still flings litter out like it's going out of style. It doesn't help that she plays in it when it's clean.  Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Mel spends most of her time upstairs but will occasionally grace us with her presence downstairs.

She is the first cat that I've ever had that sleeps at night and is up during the day. The second that Jer and I are both in bed (she follows me around until I get in bed), she hops up. And she doesn't move all night, even if she accidentally gets kicked by a foot or stepped on by a dog. She stays. When we get up, she gets up. So weird. I've read that it might be because of her eyes. Apparently the blue eyes lack the necessary whatever that helps cats see at night. Who knew?

And you might be wondering where she got her name. Or maybe not, but I'm going to share anyway. The theme song to Weeds is by Malvina Reynolds. Here are the lyrics:

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same,
Theres a pink one & a green one
And a blue one & a yellow one
And they are all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same
And theres doctors & lawyers
And business executives
And they are all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they´re put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry & raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same,
Theres a pink one & a green one
And a blue one & a yellow one
And they are all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.



And then, if you are into it, check out the intro with Death Cab for Cutie singing it. That's my neighborhood. Just not nearly as fancy pants.
Death Cab for Cutie intro on Weeds

I love the song and critical view of the middle/upper class desire to have the same things as everyone else. Because seriously, in our neighborhood (in this city, really), it is about keeping up with the Jones'. I don't even know the Jones'.  I don't care about them. But people buy houses, boats, and cars they can't afford. I know. Don't ask how I know, but I know.

I like my house, but I'm determined to make it different than every other house in our 'hood, even if on the outside they all look the same. Which is part of the reason I shop for one of a kinds at thrift shops. The other reason is because I don't have any money.  But seriously, the outside? Exactly the same. Take a look: Roofs? all the same. House color? All the same.

And that is how Mel got her name. It's my version of the fist pump, which I can't get behind. Because I don't want to.

p.s. I should add that Jeremiah thinks that she was either denied oxygen at some point or that she was dropped on her head. She doesn't have a lot of grace. Or smarts. I think he is just unfairly comparing her to Scout, who had brains, grace, and beauty. Full package. Mel was first in line for looks but I think a bunch of other kitties shortcut her when brains and equilibriums were being passed out. She's not dumb, but...she's not smart, either.

Work It.

My mom sent Atticus a Valentine's present. With a face like this, how could you resist?

She repurposed a boy's robe (that she found at a second-hand shop) into this coat/sweater for him.

It fits quite well and Atticus makes a top-notch model.

Isn't he a cutie?

He likesies. He seems to think that while wearing it he possesses super-camouflage powers and can sneak up on kitty.

What do you think? Cool idea to repurpose to old clothes, right?

p.s. Please ignore the fact that our sliding door is covered with dog slobber and paw prints. We like to consider it frosted. And ignore the fact that trim is not up on the wall and you can see the brown paint from the floor. Jeremiah got halfway done with the trim and I decided I wanted a tile floor. So he stopped. And then we got the roof estimate. So no tile floor. Yet.

We'd like to introduce to you...

...the newest member of our family.

 After a year, I felt I was able to get another cat. The only requirement? She could NOT look like Scout. At all. Not even a smidgen. And she doesn't.

 I'd been looking for awhile at the Arizona Humane Society's website. When I saw this cat, I wanted her.  Look at the picture above. Doesn't that look like a heart on her front shoulder blade? Love.

After work on Thursday, Jeremiah drove to my school and we went and  met kitty together. I spent time with her and with one other cat. I knew I wanted her after spending just a few minutes together.

 Doesn't she have the cutest little paws?

 She doesn't really hold still for the camera, and isn't super excited about having it shoved in her face, but she will soon get used to that.

 She is a snowshoe mix. She's got gorg. blue eyes. She's quiet and affectionate. She tolerates the dogs. Which says A LOT.

 She is currently without a name. I'm going to have to decide soon. I keep going back and forth and can't seem to find one fitting.

So our family has gotten a bit bigger. I'm very happy. I've never not had a cat before. The year since Scout died has been the only year in my entire life without one. And I missed having one around. 

p.s. Please ignore the room. It's a guest room and currently houses a bunch of random items, as well as the comforter from the master bed, which she seems to love.