Tuesday, May 29, 2018

And Life Goes On



Despite the fact that Sara is no longer with us, life continues on. Which is good, of course! The day after I dragged myself out to the barn first thing. Well, second thing. I had to mope around first. The heat of summer worked in my favor for once. As much as I wanted to just lay around all morning, I knew I had to leave the house before it got hot. Yay?



Single boot in the desert. Weird.  


I grabbed Truby, tacked up, and we headed over to the trail. Truby seemed happy to be out and about. She's almost at her normal walking speed when I'm riding her on the trail. Last time we went out by ourselves we walked to the first corner of the Loop, which goes right behind our barn. It also has a little turnout in the corner. So last time I used the turnout and we just had a short ride. It was a great little plan at the time, but I figured it might come back to haunt me.

And it did! We approached the corner, Windy and Cowgirl started whinnying, and Truby expected we'd turn around and head back. Instead I headed north to continue up the Loop, ready for resistance. Which I got, as Truby tried to turn around and go home instead of directly away from home. When I corrected her, she actually kicked out/crowhopped against my leg. It was kinda funny - she was mad!

I kept her walking though, and she reluctantly continued up the trail away from home. She was definitely tense though. She wasn't quite a giraffe, but she did have her head up and back in a way where I had no connection to her at all, and if I needed to use my reins I was going to have to shorten my reins to about 3 inches and do weird things to make it work. Yeah, no fun. I gently urged her on with mild seat and leg and voice. After a few hundred yards I hopped off. We'd overcome our tantrum, I'd proven my point. Rather than continue until we ran into a problem, I decided to avoid it all and walk. While I know I can ride bad behavior, spooks, and tantrums, I really DON'T want to. With a capital DON'T WANT TO. It's slower, but the baby steps Truby and I take work and are better for my wussy psyche. Oh, to be young and dumb and limber again! Still, it works for us.

Truby expected that we would head straight home, and sulked a bit when I continued along the Loop. After a few hundred yards, she perked back up and we enjoyed walking the rest of the Loop together.


Posing with a flowering Saguaro



My plan is to continue this way, slowing increasing how far I ride before switching to walking. I'll also work the tricky line of staying on as long as possible vs hopping off before a problem brews. I don't want Truby to think I'll get off if she's tense or spooky, that would be a terrible thing for a horse to learn! I also think I'll add getting back on when we get back to the trailhead and reriding areas she feels safe on. We'll see how it goes. I'm still really excited that I can go ride the trail with Truby - I don't mind taking it in tiny steps.



This cactus is on the Loop. It looks like a shy little girl 
hugging herself .



This morning she offered me flowers



Spring blooms have faded. The prickly pears are done flowering, except for a few shaded cactus. The creosote bushes have long lost their blooms. The desert is starting to look hot and dry. And then the Saguaros start to flower. The blooms are located on the crowns, and saguaros can be really tall. My favorite shy Saguaro offered me a beautiful gift at eye height. Thank you, prickly friend. 



Last year at Sabin Canyon



Last year again. Miss the big puffy clouds!
It's drrrrrrry right now.



When we got back to the barn Windy and Cinco galloped up to meet us. Cinco for fun, but Windy seems to have some separation anxiety about Truby. At least Truby seems to ignore it most of the time. Truby and I split a Gatorade to rehydrate a little, and I hosed Truby off. She enjoyed a good roll in the sand after.




I love watching her roll, she has so much fun!



The rest of last week was a mix of grieving for Sara, and trying not to fall into a depression. While I don't feel guilty or remorseful about letting her go, I do miss her. So I'm taking the time to feel sad. She may have been a little cat at only 8 lbs, but she's left a huge hole in my life. But it's okay, and it will be okay. Haiku hasn't noticed any changes. In fact, once we left that day, it's like all memory of having a cat in the house were erased. I think I'd rather go through the grieving process with all the hurt and sadness than completely forget Sara ever was. Still, it must be easier to be a cute little dog than a person! 

Sara's ashes came back and I settled her with my mom. Years ago we scattered my mom's ashes like she wanted, but I kept some to bury with her horse. I thought they would want to be together. Unfortunately I wasn't able to bury Delta and Mom's ashes are still with me. Sara lived with my mom for a number of years, and they loved each other. It's good to have them together again. Silly, but it helps. 



Hanging out together in the afterlife...or at least my curio cabinet! 





Truby being silly at twilight



Monday, May 21, 2018

Goodbyes


Hear the whistle blow,
It echos down my soul





It's something I have always known,
Nothing sounds so sad.






A cry to the unknown,
The fundamental sigh of all who've gone this way before.






Lay me down to sleep
Come and comfort me






I'll sleep in peace
In a house of broken dreams.






I'm old enough to know,
that dreams are quickly spent.






Like a pouring rain on warm cemement
Or fingerprints in dust







Nectar on the wind,
Save it for tomorrow and tomorrow lets you down again.








Lay me down to sleep,
Come and comfort me






I'll sleep in peace,
In a house of broken dreams.









Give me the reasons to go on





Soften the sorrow that shatters and bends






and mend
broken dreams








Sentimental hearts, hungry for the past.
Penniless at the wishing well, memories will last.





They cover certain scars







Acquired in daily grind of being what we are.







Lay me down to sleep,
come and comfort me




I'll sleep in peace, 
in a house of broken dreams






~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~









Good journies, little cat. You were the best friend anyone could ever want. You made my life better each and every day. Thank you for an amazing life together. 
Enjoy your next adventure - I'll see you soon enough. 













Lyrics borrowed from Mark Heard "House of Broken Dreams"

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Bad Ponies Make Me Make Good Decisions

Me? Naughty? Never!


I guess summer is officially here in Tucson. The last few weeks have been crazy windy, which is really weird, because the wind is HOT. I've never really experienced hot wind before coming here. Breezes, and wind, are cool. Or cold. When it's windy, it's cooler than it would be without the wind. Often, by quite a bit. But out here, the wind is just as warm as the air, and while there is a slight cooling effect by movement, it's not...refreshing. Trust me, it's a little hard to explain, but it's weird. 


I haven't been doing much with Truby, just saying hi and some brushing. I find myself in an odd place, subconsciously separating myself from  all my pets in preparation for letting Sara go. I spend quite a few sessions with my awesome therapist to recover from deaths. My mom, of course, but also that of my beloved cat Crack, and my mom's horse, Delta, that I inherited. Ever want some bad ass guilt? Make the decision to euthanize your deceased mother's horse! I learned that we subconsciously distance ourselves from those we're about to leave. People may be crabby in the days before they die, or even the bickering before a kid leaves for college. We try to protect ourselves by pulling away, so the loss isn't so great. I immediately think of grouchiness, but increased sleeping, which Sara is doing a lot of these days, or sudden interest in a hobby or new friend are also ways to distance. To protect. I find myself doing that with Truby and Haiku, as well as Sara. So I've been working on making sure I positively interact with everyone everyday. Death is weird. 




Crack, one of the Best Worst cats ever. I LOVED her.



So today I headed out, midmorning. I knew better. Almost 11 o'clock is too late to do anything, at least for the next 6 months. It was "only" in the low 90s, but the SUN. Oh, man. The sun out here is brutal. There's just So Much of it. And it's intense. I can't handle much, and actually get hangovers from more than an hour of full sun (even if I'm shaded, like in the barn). I rarely ever drink, but I still get to enjoy a sunny hangover if I'm not careful. Yay.

My intention was to grab Truby, brush and tack up as quick as I could. I had on a sunshirt, and figured we could do a quick little trail ride. Truby's in a cute little herd of herself and two young Arabians. They're turned out in the very shady mesquite field, so they're quite content out there together all day. When I got to the gate, they were near the far end, but as soon as I opened it, they came galloping up. Well, I should say Cinco and Windy came galloping up. Truby relunctantly cantered over. 


Why are we running???



 The Arabs are pretty cute, and they regularly gallop around for fun. Just for a few minutes here and there. They just decide to run around, do a lap and then go back to hanging out. Truby thinks this is some kind of bullshit. Truby does not run around for fun. Truby eats carrots and gets pets and takes naps for fun. Even if she's been cooped up, or is wound up about something, and NEEDS to run, she's galloping around with this look like, 'why am I running? I could be eating!' Truby would be quite happy to eat pretzels and watch Netflix all day with me. None of this running for fun nonsense.



They need a name. The Terrible Trio? The Truby Three?


The only thing I don't like is that the Arabs have a lot less Personal Space issues than I do, so sometimes they gallop quite a bit closer than I'd like. It's especially awkward in the mesquite turnout, since there are so many trees, it can be hard to see what path they're going to take. 

So I rescued Truby from her athletic friends, much to her relief. Windy, the little buckskin mare, immediately starting neighing for her. Like, go hang with Cinco, don't start crying for Truby! Of course, as soon as we walked in the barn Cowgirl started her desperate nickering at Truby. She was really vocal today, almost stallion like in her urgent nickering. Sheesh.

Those two kept it up while I brushed Truby, and Tru even returned a whinny now and again. I was a bit concerned about the urgency the girls were talking. Truby had been in heat this week, so I guess that has something to do with it? Although Cinco wasn't clingy, and the other two geldings weren't screaming for her. 

I decided that with all the hollering going on, it would be a bad idea to try to ride. Maybe if we were going to do some ringwork, but to go off on  the trail? I could just envision the mares screaming and racing around. Perhaps a good training challenge, but not ideal for a quick trail ride. I gave Truby some carrot chunks, put some flyspray on and turned her back out. It seemed like the best idea.




Windy desperate for Truby's return



Truby: Listen you whippersnappers. We are NOT running again!


It really was for the best. I had already been out for too long. I came home, drank a ton of water, and took a nap. Had we gone for our trail ride,  I probably would be having a sun hangover instead. The trail, Truby, and I will all be there later. We can go out another time. Perhaps Super Early in the morning. (4 am is the coolest time of the day.) Truby being the coolest pony in the barn, and everyone's need to have her attention saved me from myself today. Thanks, Truby! I should probably give her more carrots...


Truby: I SAID, NO MORE RUNNING!!!!



Sunday, May 13, 2018

With Great Power...

***This post is a little scattered. I'm sorry. It was hard to write, but I need to write it.***



It's kinda crazy the power we have over our pets. I mean, I control every aspect of Truby's life. I decide where she lives, when she goes out, when she stays in. I decide what she eats, and how much. I decide where she goes, and what friends she has. And through training, I can even control her behavior.



I can't control her shaking her braids out
And yes, I've paid for this photo!



I do my best to make sure that the choices I make for Truby, and all my pets, are the best. I strive to find the best diet for their needs. I find the best homes for them I can afford. I try to tailor their playtimes and friends based on their preferences. I want my critters to be happy, safe, and healthy. 

I'm lucky to have lots of help. I know amazing people with wealths of knowledge and experience to learn from. I've seen more examples of what not to do than I can count! There's books aplenty, and let's not even the mention the internet. It's so easy to keep up with the latest knowledge and research. We can constantly learn more, learn better. We can share our experiences and knowledge with people everywhere! It's incredible. Of course, there's the downside where we can accidentally be misinformed, etc, but that's another post. 








I can also learn from my own experiences. I've made mistakes. I've done plenty of things I regret. I like to think that I didn't know better. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I do know I've learned and changed. I like to think that as I learn better, I do better. I try to help others, so they don't make the same mistakes I did. I try to be a good example. And I try, every day, to do the very best I can for my pets. Even when I don't want to. Especially when I don't want to! 

One of the scariest things is being responsible for their death. I'm used to taking care of them. My little dog, my cat, Truby. I'm comfortable taking care of them day to day. Seeing to their feeding, their medications. Spending time with them. Training, exercising, cleaning. The usual business of life. 

But there's a huge elephant in the room that we rarely think of, and almost always try to avoid: Death. As owners, we're also responsible for the death of our pets. We can control, for some part, when It's Time. A smart owner will take some time to check in with Death when things are good. Make decisions calmly and thoughtfully, so that when The Time is looming, you don't have to think quite so hard. Some things I think about are
  • Money. What can I afford to treat? Short term, long term?
  • Quality of Life. What do I consider an acceptable quality of life? For me? For my pet?
  • Care. What care can I reasonably give? What can my home/barn provide?
  • Emotional. What can *I* handle emotionally?
I think, for me, quality of life is most important. I want my pets to be comfortable and happy. I've spent some time deciding what that means to me. How I might judge that for my animals. I know what kind of medical care I can give my guys. I'm reasonably adept at the basics. Husband has great vet tech experience. I feel okay giving daily medical care if it supports a good quality of life. 

I think that deciding the financial aspect is really important. Emergencies are so stressful and emotional that trying to decide if you can afford a life saving treatment is the last thing you want to do. I've decided I won't put Truby through a colic surgery. It's not a fun decision to make. But it's made. I spoke with vets, other horse owners (that have done colic surgery) and my bank account. For us, it's a no. And I hope I never have to live with that decision. But at least I don't have to try and decide in the heat of the moment. 

I would be perfectly fine to never ride or "use" Truby again. She could be a pet the rest of her life, as long as I felt she was comfortable. She enjoyed life. She wasn't in pain - or that we could manage her pain. Truby owes me nothing. I love her. I can afford a big, expensive, useless pet. 



She makes me happy, so I guess she's not useless!


It's such a overwhelming sensation (for me, at least) to realize the kind of power I have over my pets. Not only do I control their entire lives, but I can have control over the ending of that life. For the most part, it's easy to push it to the back of the mind and not think about it. But when faced with an injury, or illness, or old age...the thoughts come to the forefront. It's time to make a decision. It's time to make a choice, and live with it. And maybe be living alone with it. 

For me, I'm making this choice for my cat, Sara. Sara's a pretty old kitty. I would love her to pass peacefully in her sleep. Just slip away during a little kitty dream. But things aren't so easy. Sara's been battling chronic infections for years, and we're at the end. Antibiotics aren't given to cure the infections, but to keep them "tolerable". We've added in mild pain meds. After realizing we were out of options for Sara, I really had to sit down and decide how I would decide it was Time. I talked to my vet. I talked to the husband. And I talked to Sara. 



No cats were harmed or even annoyed. 
Sara really loved competing at Hershey Groom Expo
- or she loved the attention showered on her to be more accurate



Sara has been more than 'just' a pet to me. Sara was my partner for years. We competed together. I showed Sara in dog grooming competitions. She was an amazing ambassador for cat grooming and creative cat grooming. We did Creative Runway competitions, done like an actual fashion show. Sara was totally calm and collected, always. She posed for pictures. She let strangers pet her. She was a rock star. She helped teach other groomers how to handle cats. Sara was always gentle and friendly. And tolerant. Sooo tolerant. Grooms we did were published in trade books. Sara helped me become kinda cool in my profession. 

A groomer posted this photo on Facebook (2012?)
Another groomer (I have no idea who she is) responded with
"I love how relaxed and happy that cat is!"
Yup. That's my Sara.


Sara was also my friend. She would sit on my lap after breakfast, and purr. I'd check facebook and email and whatever, and Sara would sit on my thigh and purr. Every day, for years. It was our thing. If something happened and we missed a morning, Sara was out of sorts. She needed our morning time. Sara was always the sweetest, most gentle cat I've ever met. I've met A LOT of cats in my life. But Sara was special. She was playful, she was friendly, she loved to cuddle. She loved to bonk her head on things. In fact, her vet records include the jokey warning of "aggressive headbutter". 





Sara has been an almost unbelievable friend and partner. I find it unbearable that she be miserable, in pain, or unhappy. I can't stand the thought of putting her down too soon. To end her life while she's still happy. It's a terrible balance to strike. To give her every day she can have, but to spare her any agony.  I've been vigilant. Taking extra care to notice every detail. Yesterday she sat on my lap before work. She didn't purr. She looked tired. And fed up. I could almost hear her thoughts " omfg, I'm so done with this. Why am I awake? I just want it to be done." And I knew the time had come. I felt it, deep in my heart, and as much as I've known anything, that Sara was ready. We are no longer managing her pain. She'd prefer to sleep. She's over it. 



Chilling after a grooming session
Sara always loved being groomed and relished the attention


We have one more week with Sara. Today she sat with me and purred. She's not miserable all the time. Or even most of the time. But the end is coming. Soon her infection will no longer be able to drain (there's a growth blocking the canal. As it grows it prevents the ever flowing pus to drain.) It will become more and more painful. Soon she will be miserable, and her waking time painful. I will take this week to enjoy every moment I can with her. She's still a loving, snuggly little cat. I will miss her so, so much. Sara owes me nothing, not a purr, not a cuddle, not a slow blink. But I owe her a painless death. To let her go before her life is misery and pain. To set aside how I feel and put her first. 

I owe Sara this not because of what she's done for me. Not because of the competitions, not because of the joy she brought me, but because she's my cat. I am responsible for her. I am responsible for making her life the best it can be...and also for allowing her the best death she can have. It's a power and a responsibility I have as a pet owner. It's a terrible burden. Right now I don't think it's worth it. Then I remember the life Sara has had, and how much better my own life has been with her in it. And yeah, it's worth it. Next week I will sit one last time with my little cat, and pet her, and tell her how wonderful she is. How much I love her. And that she'll have a little sleep, and everything will be better. Her infection will be gone. All her pains will be gone. She'll have sunny windows and watch birds. She'll have baby kittens to take care of. Friends to play with. And someday I will join her. Not for awhile, but someday. And we will sit together and headbonk and purr again. Someday. 



Silly little cat. She loved to look at the world upside down.




Monday, May 7, 2018

Truby and the Trees




The bright greens of spring are already fading into dusty and worn colors
Yesterday was our first 100+ degree day. It was 102 by noon. Toasty!

Spring in Tucson looks beautiful on Truby,
here's a smattering of desert beauty 
and my favorite little gray horse




late afternoon among the mesquite trees





Adorable after a good roll




Grooming session with her buddy, Cinco



"did you just tell me to sniff a cactus?
Just to get a picture?"


Maybe, but she's so pretty!




 "Truby, don't eat that, it's prickly."



"Bitch, I do what I want!"


I absolutely love this pic of her
Eating trees...because that's her new thing.



Nomming on the neighbor's tree...




I just wanted a pretty pic with her and the flowers
She wanted a snack







No Truby, but our sunsets are amazing. 





 It took a long moment before I could even ask the question. I leaned against Truby and ran my hand along her neck, underneath her mane. ...