A Tale of Two Kitties: Part Four

So, the thing of it is…over a month has passed.  Life has once again gotten away from me.  And here I sit, two days away from Monkey’s Gotcha Day…and a for real deadline that I should probably actually stick to.  There’s another post here in the middle that needs to be written…so here goes…  Full disclosure, most of this is pulled from the Notes section on my phone from over a year ago.  I had every intention of putting this all to “paper” then, but as the saying goes, better late than never.

As a reminder, Puppy died on a Thursday morning.  The Sunday before was his last really good, normal day.  I was home with him, the weather was perfect, and we just chilled together on the screened-in porch.  He slept in his chair out there a lot and I just kind of enjoyed his sweet company.  I freaking love/loved/love that guy.  He was my best friend…he was always there.

That Sunday, Puppy was passed out and chilling on that chair when the (not so) little gray and white dude showed up.  I always hated petting other animals when Puppy was around, especially towards the end.  I never wanted him to feel like I was cheating on him.  Call me weird, I don’t care.  Maybe I just love differently and harder than some.  Maybe I AM just weird, but whatever.

But the gray and white dude was so sweet and chatty; I didn’t want to ignore him either.  I thought it wouldn’t hurt to pet him for a bit, while Puppy slept, so I slipped out onto the deck.  I crouched down and dude was head-butting the crap out of me…just purring and head-butting.  He was super sweet.  I let it happen for less than 5 minutes and then I went back in with my boy.

Later that day, I saw my gray and white friend fighting another gray and white cat in the backyard.  I went out and yelled and the fight dispersed pretty quickly.

The Thursday that Puppy died was one of the worst days of my life.  I fled to Florida to get away and be with my parents for a bit.  It killed.  It still kills.  You either get it or you don’t.  And there’s no point in trying to convince you if you don’t.

We went to our favorite breakfast place while I was in Florida.  It’s right on a pier on the beach and, aside from the pigeons that prowl the grounds…ready to ferociously attack, it just has an awesome atmosphere.  It’s one of my favorite places in the world.  There’s a bar side table that looks right out on the ocean.  That’s where my mom, dad, and I were sitting this particular morning.  All of the sudden, I noticed my mom’s face do a thing.  I knew something was up.  “I just saw a cat,” she said.  Knowing I was vulnerable, she followed with, “I didn’t know if I should tell you.”

I jumped up to see it.  It was a little guy who looked so much like Puppy…his markings were a little darker, but the pattern was very much the same…aside from this half mustache thing he had going on.  I fell in love.  He crawled into the bushes right in front of us.  We ordered a side of bacon and brought it to him when we finished brunch.  He took the bacon happily.  We noticed an empty cat food can in the back and knew somebody was taking care of him.

I took a few pictures and felt very bittersweet over the whole thing.  Then we went and put our toes in the sand for a while.  It’s hard for me to sit still on a good day, so it’s even worse on a bad day.  Despite the assistance of a few mimosas, I couldn’t just sit there.  My mom and I got up to walk the pier.  As we passed where the cat had been, we looked down.  I was hoping he would be there.  Somehow I felt connected.  I mean, he really looked a lot like Puppy.  He WAS there!  (Should this have been titled A Tale of Three Kitties?)

Puppy meets Monkey in the underbrush     Rainbow Bridge Kitty

As soon as I spotted him, Iz’s “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” started playing overhead.  I nearly lost it.  It made me think Puppy had made it to the Rainbow Bridge and that this little guy was sent to tell me he made it okay…or something.  I’m not really sure.  I found comfort and gut-wrenching pain in it, but mostly I tried to take peace from it.  We caught our breath and wiped our tears and we continued down the pier…

Even in your darkest moments, there is light, there is hope…if only you are willing to see it.  Hard as it is sometimes, life goes on.  The sun still shines.

Sun through the clouds

Anyway, my mom and I flew back that Sunday night.  Flights got all kinds of screwed up (shocking, I know), so we didn’t get in until late.

The next day I got up to go to work.  Being back home was hard.  My routine was hollow and empty without my little guy.  No meds had to be given.  No food had to be put out.  No litter had to be scooped.  Who knew that not having to clean up cat crap could be so heart breaking?  But mostly, no little dude following my every move.

I struggled through the morning, trying to keep living, trying to get back to it.  I got in my car and immediately backed right into my dad’s Explorer.  It took a minute to realize what had happened.  Once I realized it, I began to shake and all the tears I’d been fighting came pouring out in a torrential downpour.  I got out of the car and realized there was only damage to my car, so that was good.  I sucked it up and carried on.  It’s what we do.  I’d deal with my car’s damage later.

I went to work and did my best to get through the day.  Everybody was super supportive.  All of my friends had written ridiculously sweet things in a card for me.  Tears flowed and I fought them constantly, but I survived.

As I drove home that day, I felt the empty reality hit me hard.  There would be no little goober greeting me when I got home.  My life was forever changed.  Even now, I still look for him.  Sometimes I still miss him like it just happened.

Anyway, when I was pulling in my driveway, I saw my gray and white friend crossing over from our neighbors’ and going into our backyard.

I walked into the kitchen and he showed up right at the back door, just staring at me…like he’d been waiting all day.  He did this every day.  I missed my little Puppy so much, but this guy gave me something to look forward to.  I didn’t really know who he was and he could never replace my Puppy, but he certainly made me smile and feel some kind of love when all I could feel was shattered and alone.

You can’t tell it in this picture, but this furry little guy has a half mustache.  The little guy we’d seen at the beach was, what at least appeared to be, a combination of Puppy and this other amazing little dude.  I was only beginning to get it at the time, but none of this was coincidence.  God works in mysterious ways, my friends.  There are times when it seems like the universe is failing you, but there are times when the universe seemingly rallies for you.  This little dude standing at my door was exactly that…and the universe was rallying damn hard.

Monkey at the door


Tale of Two Kitties: Part One

Tale of Two Kitties: Part Two

Tale of Two Kitties: Part Three


A Tale of Two Kitties: Part Three

I rambled a bit leading up to the actual meat of this post.  I feel badly dragging you all through it.  If you’d like just the gist, scroll on down to where everything becomes italicized.

So, I kind of dropped the ball.  I meant for it all to unravel here, as it did in real life this time last year.  But, as it tends to do, life got in the way. Hell, my feelings got in the way. There’s a fine line between allowing yourself to feel grief and allowing yourself to be swallowed whole by it.  There’s another fine line between honoring a memory and allowing yourself to make new ones.

I had every intention of telling this part of the story on January 19th, the anniversary of the day my little dude passed away.  Life is busy, crazy, and chaotic.  And, if I’m being honest, not stellar at the moment.  On January 19th, schedules allowed and one of my best friends was actually able to hang out with me.  I thought, I could wallow in my own grief…or distract myself by spending time with someone I rarely get to see.  I chose to focus on the good and I hung out with my friend instead of completely indulging in the grief and sadness that the day forced on me.

After all, when I set out to share all of this with you guys, it wasn’t so much about the grief and the gut-wrenching sadness of losing someone you love…though, that would inevitably be part of it…it was, believe it or not, supposed to be about gratitude and hope, mostly hope.

I’ve been living my day-to-day life since my last post, but the “blank pages” have been plaguing me.  The ADHD / OCD war has been alive and (un)well.  Part of me knows I procrastinated this, part of me wants to just let it go unfinished, and the OCD part of me is berating itself for having not stayed on task and not completed everything on time.

I digress.  Imagine.

So, I kept trying to do the math for all the things.  Since I missed the actual anniversary, what day would make sense to post all of this?  Should I backdate it all?  Honestly, I’m still on the fence.  There’s a timeline I committed to in my head and I’ve failed to maintain it.

But isn’t the whole point of all of this to be real?  To be human?  To share my failures, not just my successes?  Aren’t you proud I haven’t even addressed the fact that it’s probably been over a year since my last post before these Tale of Two Kitties ones?  Ha…and there it is.

Anyway, now I’ve written an entire post leading up to the whole point of the post.  Le sigh.  I guess if you’ve made it this far, I commend you.  There’s a bit more to go; there’s always more.

So, like I said, I’ve been living my day-to-day life trying to decide when to post all of this. And today, Facebook hit me like a ton of bricks…one that I knew was coming, but still. On This Day last year, I finally put it all out there.  I told the world (my world, anyway) that my favorite guy was gone.  It took me a week and a half to compose a post, to say the words, to, perhaps, admit the reality of my loss.

Puppy was such an amazing dude.  He had a following.  And had I been more diligent (or had he been more active on social media himself…slacker), he could have had a real following on social media.  His personality made an impression and, if only because of the joy he brought to me, most of the people I love, loved him as well.

I could sit here and relive it all, as…let’s be real, I’ve been doing for about a month in my own head.  Or I could just share what I put on Facebook.  I think I’ll do that.  I’m not sure when I’ll follow up because now I’ve screwed up the timeline, actual dates anyway…but I promise the story gets happier.  I still lose my dear, sweet (insane) Puppy, but there’s a light, a hope.  Some rough patches still to come, but if you see it through, you’ll feel the good…I think…I hope.
Here are the words I shared on this day last year.  (I guess in some ways, I’m right on track with the timing thing.):

I have been absolutely dreading this post. On Thursday, January 19th, I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my Puppy.
As you all know, he was my favorite thing in the world. And I know so many of you grew to love him and his quirky ways, too.

He was thrown from a truck 14 years ago and our apartment security officer, who saw it happen, knew Stacie, Carrie, and I were suckers. I ultimately got custody of him after graduation. Rather…I took him and I think everybody just knew we were meant for each other. I like to think we saved each other’s lives. I know there were plenty of times that he saved mine. We were just crazy enough to make sense of each other.

My world is ridiculously empty without him. He was everything that got me out of bed for so long, especially towards the end when his actual survival depended pretty much on me. His signature, “Pa-pow,” greeted me every time I walked in the door, even until the very last time.

He made me laugh so much. He was such a goober.

He stopped consistently sleeping with me over the past year or so; he took to sleeping on the massive pile of clothes on my dresser instead. Occasionally he’d grace me with his presence and sleep draped across my chest…for just a few minutes. Those were the best moments, even when they were extremely brief. He slept next to me in bed that last night. I think he was throwing me a bone, letting me know that he loved me, too…but I think he knew it was almost his time.

That little guy infiltrated my life. I am so grateful for the time we got to share, for the laughs, the love, the companionship. As crazy as he was, he was truly a gift. Perhaps only a weirdo like me could love a weirdo like him the way he deserved to be loved.

The past week and a half-ish have been heart wrenching. His last vet visit in early January showed improved blood work. So, while we knew he wasn’t 100% healthy, it seemed he was getting better. He wasn’t.

I am grateful that I was here with him, that I was so in tuned with him that I heard his strained breathing as soon as it began…at least I think I did. I’m grateful I had the strength to not prolong his pain. Though, in some ways, it was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I’m grateful that my brother could be there with me, so I didn’t have to be alone as I said goodbye to the little dude who had become my life.

I’m sorry this is so long…and that I’ve attached so many pictures. It’s not like you couldn’t find them on your own if you wanted to go looking on my page or his. For as many times as this moment crossed my mind over the years, I had somehow convinced myself I’d never have to face it. Yet, here it is.

For all the things I’m grateful for, second, only to him not having to leave this world alone, is the amazing amount of love and support I have received from everybody in my life. My family and friends are beyond amazing and they remind me that, no matter how much it feels like it, I’m not alone. Their thoughtfulness and kindness has blown me away and given me hope.

My world will never be the same. My little dude is gone. And I am crushed. Even in these moments of intense sadness, I’d do it all over again. He brought so much to my life. His absence kills me, but my life would have been far worse had I never been able to love him. And love him hard, I did…for that is the only way I know how to love.

So, there it is, guys.  The shortened version of one of the absolute worst moments of my life.  Pets are people, too.  Pets are better than people.  I still miss him every single day.  I think that’s the sign of a good run.  I was lucky as hell to have a little dude I loved so much and who…well, who tolerated me.  I mostly smile at the reminders.  When you’re a crazy cat lady, they’re everywhere.  I wouldn’t change a thing.  I’m glad there are constant reminders.  Sometimes they hurt like hell, but they mostly make me smile…

Tale of Two Kitties: Part One

Tale of Two Kitties: Part Two

ADHD Awesomeness Anniversary

5 Positive Traits of ADHD Adults

When I signed on to WordPress tonight, I got a notification that yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of signing up with the site.

Can you imagine how awesome it would have been if I had blogged the whole time…instead of taking over a year off?  …but I didn’t.

Still, I’m back.  Or…I’m trying to be back anyway.  During my hiatus, I received multiple comment notifications on various blog posts.  Even in my state of silence, my published words and experiences were reaching other members of the ADHD community.

Sadly, I didn’t respond to many of these comments.  I’m not sure why.  My ADHD blog was doing just what I had intended for it to do.  It was reaching people, but I wasn’t acknowledging them or their experiences.  I feel badly about this and will likely respond to those comments at some point over the next few days (weeks?).

The thing is, blogging, especially about overcoming my ADHD, OCD, etc. struggles, makes me feel like I’m making a difference.  Well, at least the positive response I get from many of my readers makes me feel that way.

I’ve thought about going back to school to become an ADHD coach.  There are many tools out there that can make the ADHD life easier.  I could be an advocate for other ADHDers.

Anyway, I’m almost digressing here.  I am still very lost, but, the point is…I already am an advocate for ADHDers.  I’m not trying to toot my own horn.  ADHD readers have voiced this…or at least voiced that I’m writing things they can relate to and that I’m helping them think of their struggles in new ways.

And so, as I sat here tonight trying to figure out what to blog about (having taken pics for multiple potential posts and having started multiple drafts), it occurred to me that maybe I should pay homage to the original post on this page: 5 Positive Traits of ADHD Adults.

After all, at the end of the day, despite my personal and professional struggles over the last year or so, I do still believe that adults with ADHD are determined, creative, intelligent, resilient, and courageous.  And part of the reason I came here to blog in the first place was to help prove that to the rest of the world.


Happy Fall!

First off…happy Fall…because…well – Fall.  And it’s awesome.  This is a photo I took while hiking at some point last Fall.  As I’ve mentioned before, like so many other ADHD-ers, I love the outdoors and find nature more therapeutic than Xanax (well, most days at least).  So, in honor of the first day of Fall and all the changing leaves and all that good stuff, I had to share one of the more colorful photos I’ve taken.

Second off…and continuing with yesterday’s Dear Diary theme…and with the general intent to keep writing something, just to keep writing, I wanted to share another retro post from my Xanga days.


I’ve worked so hard to make it all appear as such.  I believe I’ve succeeded, in that at least.

And all they see is what I show them; they never see the pain.

They say that life’s a stage.  I’d say I’m tired of playing this part, but, hell,  I can’t even face the audition.

The problem with suffering in silence is that noone ever hears your cries.

No full thoughts.  I can’t find it within me to compile them.

Looking back, it’s so strange how often I’ve felt just as I do today.  My anxiety is crippling.  My distractibility?  Derailing, at the very least.  …but I carry on.  No one sees the struggle.  So, when I try to explain, it’s hard for them to fathom.  I find myself lost again, but aspiring to be on the path to somewhere better than here.  Somehow, I still can’t find the words.  I’m trying, though…and I’m trying to force myself to speak, even when I’m not entirely sure what to say.  And I’m trying to put one foot in front of the other, even though I don’t really know where I’m headed.

Other “retro” posts from Xanga:

When ADHD and Diaries Collide

I’ve been a writer my whole life…to varying degrees…in various capacities. There have been periods of constant writing and dry spells that seemed to last forever. In fact, I’ve been in one of those dry spells for quite some time now.

That said, today is Dear Diary Day and it seemed only appropriate to attempt to write a blog entry in honor of it.

A lot has happened over the last several months…so much so that I haven’t known where to start. Perhaps this entry isnt very definitive, doesn’t have much of a real point other than to acknowledge the value of writing in my own life. I’ve started several blog entries over the past few months. And I have a list of potential topics. Somehow all the chaos has prevented me from actually sitting down and putting these ideas out there.

Again, the ADHD theme of all-or-nothing prevails in my blog. We go for things at full force, but are so quickly deterred to stop when the force is diminished…even in the slightest. Fellow ADHD-ers, I know you get it. I want to write again. I need to write again. Maybe I’m hoping that this post will be a jumping off point, to remind me how important it is for me to be writing.

With October and the celebration of ADHD Awareness Month on the horizon, I’ve been trying to outline potential blog ideas to ignite the creativity inside me…nay, the freedom to write. However, when I found out today is Dear Diary Day, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put something out there.

It’s been a long, trying few months and I intend to write about what these few months have taught me and how I’m still trying to overcome the obstacles that have been put in my path.

As I look back over all my diaries, journals and scribbles, I realize how glad I am to have them, to have documented so much of my own life.  It lets me see how much I’ve grown and often inspires me to find the strength to believe again.

So, if you’re still with me and still interested in what I have to say, I hope you’ll stick around. I promise I haven’t abandoned you guys and I promise I haven’t given up.

I’m not even confident in this post, but I’m trying to overcome the ADHD all-or-nothing mentality and just put something out there.  It ain’t perfect, but sometimes it’s not about being perfect…sometimes it’s about just doing it.

Also, this guy…just cause he’s awesome:

cat close up puppy