Ironing Board Nellie

My husband Bil sold his larger house in Massachusetts and moved his things into our tiny two bedroom home. We consolidated and gave away furniture to local Freecycle groups and secondhand stores. I had an ironing board that was always in the way so I gave it to Salvation Army. I found an older, built-into the wall wooden version on a local Freecycle group.
The woman offering the built in ironing board called herself Harley Piglet. Not many people in the on-line community use a birth name as a Yahoo ID due to privacy issues. Many of the best names are already taken, obviously, and this was one of them.
Harley was in the process of creating space in their home for her partner, like we were. I asked her to name the time and then asked my husband Bil to pick up the ironing board.
He arrived as expected at their house and being Bil, asked her if she needed assistance moving furniture, etc. While helping her move a large armoire and a refrigerator they talked about their pets. He mentioned that we had a rescued “Bunny” and wondered if she knew anything about rabbits or specifically wild rabbits.
Answering that she did not, but knew of an older gentleman several streets away who had domesticated rabbits, she told him how to find the place, to drop by and mention her name to see if he could help us. Bil packed up the ironing board, said his goodbyes and drove over to the gentleman’s place.
The man did not answer his front door’s bell, or Bil’s knocking. The car was in the driveway and he lived alone. Maybe he had two cars or was asleep. Bil left a note and came home.
My favorite restaurant is several miles away. After I got home from work Bil took me to dinner and drove us a bit out of our way so we could stop and see if the man who had rabbits was home yet. His car was still in the driveway; Bil knocked, rang the bell. No answer. He walked around the back of the house while I sat in our car, switching on the car engine so I could turn on the a/c. It was in the high 90’s and extremely humid, around 6 pm, and all the windows were closed in the man’s house. There wasn’t an air conditioner in sight. Bil walked around to the back, then returned to the car several minutes later with his face set in a frown.
“He’s not answering his door, his car is in the driveway, it’s very hot out, and there’s a cat in a rabbit cage back here.”
I turned off the car and followed him to the back of the house.
There is a porch and on the porch is a rabbit cage, and in the rabbit cage is a plump little cat. The smell of ammonia preceded discovery of the cat in the rabbit cage. The litter box was covered with newspapers and a urine soaked blanket. Kibbles and a cat food stained paper plate on top of several similarly used paper plates were in the cage, many used cat food cans were a few feet away in a trash barrel, and more used paper plates on top of more used paper plates on the floor nearby.
The cat was in a 24 x 24 inch rabbit hutch, about half that height, and walked in circles. It appeared otherwise healthy and couldn’t get enough of us scratching it behind the ears.
“Let’s get it some water”, and we looked for a hose. There were some sheds in the back yard, and Bil went looking and calling and knocking. No answer. No water.
We drove back to Harley’s house and she was home. Told her what we suspected - that the man was in his house dead. She drove over with us and walked around, called her other neighbor on her cell phone, and learned he was gone for the holiday weekend with friends to the Cape, and expected back Tuesday. We had filled a soda bottle with water at her house to give water to the cat.
In the gentleman’s back yard were two sheds. One contained goats, the other chickens, rabbits, and three more cats. Bil told me what was there, that it was horrible and for me not to go there. Apparently everyone was watered and fed, although it was very hot, humid and barely ventilated.
We went to dinner, and spent the holiday weekend like most people did. When the man came home Tuesday Bil asked why this small cat was in a rabbit cage. He said she had been in a car accident and as a result walked around in circles. That combined with that she wasn’t spayed convinced him that she needed to be kept in a cage for her protection. Bil wanted to take the cat, and said he’d get her veterinary care and offered to help him ventilate the sheds. He didn’t want any help with ventilating the sheds but said Bil could take the kitty.
When I came home from work the kitty was in our bedroom. We let her out of the cat carrier and watched as she walked around in circles, hopped on top of the cat carrier, fell off, and didn’t know what to do with the space available to her. We took her to the vet the next day and she was treated for a massive ear infection in both ears and an eye infection. Ear ointment and eye ointment and pills twice a day. Her white blood cell count was too high for a neuter operation so we continued to medicate her for almost a month. She regained her equilibrium, got neutered and is finally able to walk almost in a straight line, although her head is mostly cocked to one side due to being blind in one eye. We tried on some names and decided she was a Nellie. A happy little cat, she prances and races around the house as fast as her little legs can carry her. She chases little balls, cat toys, anything that moves, especially if it has a bell, and shows a real interest and curiosity. She hops into a lap exuberantly, snuggles closely and eats like a little pig. We’re so happy to have little Ironing Board Nellie.

You can't own it because it chooses - Harry

We did not know Harry's name when he showed up. In the winter when it was close to zero degrees F. Harry came to our house every morning. He was a bedraggled, skinny old black cat. He came to the front door where we kept kibbles and water in a heated bowl outside for the few outside cats afraid to come in the house. During this time period a family owned two Chihuahuas that were allowed to run free. They came over and menaced Harry, biting and tearing at him. Bil scared them off, brought Harry to a vet, repaired minor cuts and did a lab workup. No major disabilities except kidney disease was indicated and we adopted him. Brought him in the house, gave him his own heating pad and medicated him with subcutaneous Ringers' solution three times a week. Harry was doing well. When the weather warmed a few degrees from zero Bil walked the neighborhood knocking on doors. It turned out that Harry belonged to a couple a few doors away. They claimed they had owned him for more than 15 years. Bil told them what we were doing for his kidney disease, asked them if they 'd like to know how it was done so they could take him home and do it (we had the vet show us how) but they were not interested and said they'd let nature take its course. We decided they didn't deserve this cat, so we refused to relinquish him. He showed no desire to go outside, even when we left the door open, and seemed happy and comfortable. 

Many months later I received a letter from the feminine half of the couple saying she was angry we had stolen her cat. She wants him cremated when he dies so she can have his ashes. That her family has loved this cat who was a member of their family. We ignored the letter because, after all, if Harry was a family member, why wouldn't you want to take good care of him: we kept Harry with us and continued his subcutaneous Ringers solution for another couple of years until eventually he died. He got along well with our other cats, learned how to use the cat door and could have gone home any time he wanted. 

He chose to stay with us - although I call him ours, he was his own cat because he chose. You can't own something that chooses.

ACL bites the dust - July 2008

This is my fourth season windsurfing.  In one of two spots in Rhode Island, skimming over scintillated greys, greens and grey catpaws of sun kissed ripple, the scent of humid breezes containing ocean scented salty air.  I'm fresh from Tolle's Power of Now, truly living in the present whose beauty is the lid of a container of amorphous scent laden memories of other beaches,  other people, other loves and lives.

I am totally at peace.  There is nothing at all like this sensation of sailing with the wind at your back, speeding you over and through the welcoming surface, faster, riding higher in the water, and faster,  higher, on the edge of being aerial, the board is beginning to plane....     

Inadvertent the swallow gulp of salt ocean water as my nose and eyes streaming -having fallen as the fickle wind scatters my previously calm enjoyment of a oneness.  The union of sea and air falters,  my poor leg twists,  agony onto an agonized ACL joint, straining but not ripping the ligaments, nor tearing the meniscus - thank you thank you thanks so so much.  I'm able to walk to the beach after two minutes of interior screaming and body acuity - I am so much in the Present, big time, thank you thank you thank you again.  

Now I'm coming up to week number 4.  I can go out in 4 - 6 weeks!  Do I take the risk or sit on the beach, we'll see.  

Bil's son from Arizona has arrived with Carla and son Justin.  They want to go windsurfing.