Dreams & Nightmares

Not everyone has them. If you do have them, maybe you remember them when you wake up, maybe you don't. Superstition says that telling your dreams to people is bad luck. Yet there is a belief that the more you talk about your dream, the more likely it is to happen. I'm not sure I fully believe it's bad luck to tell your dreams. For some reason, I seem to remember hearing, "Tell your dream so it doesn't happen."

There are some psychologists who say that dreams reflect our worries, fears, desires, and things like that, which in some ways makes absolute sense. Especially if you're not one to take in all of the things around you. Sometimes we need a nudge to see what's going on. Maybe that comes in the form of a dream or nightmare.

Generally speaking, I don't have dreams or nightmares, but when I do, they are very strong and generally wake me up to the point of no more sleep to be had. The number of times that has happened could be counted on one hand. I guess I don't fall into the deep sleep that is required for dreams, as a tosser, turner, and being up every hour on the hour, there isn't much time to let dreams run.

Surprisingly, a few months ago, I had a dream that woke me from a deep sleep (for once, getting a good sleep, ruined by a nightmare!). I say nightmare because it truly was something I would never want to happen. Needless to say, immediately upon waking up, I woke up Gene and told him about the dream. He brushed off my dream as nothing (to the point that months later he doesn't remember me telling him).

What was this nightmare? It's summer in real life, but in my dream, it's winter, with snow on the ground and very cold. (My ideal weather!) Clearly, this dream is set at my current house. In the backyard where this takes place, everything is just how my yard is set up now - all covered in pretty snow. I'm on the sunporch because I realize two of my cats have gotten into the yard. None of my cats go outdoors, so I'm desperately trying to get them in out of the snow and cold. Peppermint, my tuxedo cat who was the matriarch of our cat family, refused to come in. Instead, she pranced her way along the shed and down the alley. No amount of calling, coaxing, treats, or anything would get her to come back.

Following closely in her footsteps is Rollie, a Siamese, another of my senior cats. There's a moment of debate in Rollie's mind - follow Peppermint or come inside with me back to warmth and food. Rollie comes in with me, while Peppermint looks back at us but keeps on moving. I'm happy Rollie came in, but baffled why Peppermint wouldn't. Then I wake up - in a panic, crying, realizing it was a dream/nightmare. Peppermint crossed the rainbow bridge last year, so I'm trying to make sense of this dream. The only thing I could come up with seemed far-fetched, but nonetheless, it was all that made sense. Peppermint was telling me Rollie was sick, her time was coming, and Peppermint was ready to guide her.

I know, crazy, absolutely crazy. There's no way that could possibly be. So like any crazy person, I called the vet at 7:20 am (they open at 7) after fighting with myself that I was absolutely crazy and that no, I wasn't. What could the vet do for me? Confirm some facts from Rollie's last visit. The receptionist answers (someone who always has a smile, ready to help and a shoulder to lean on). I say I just need to know a few things about Rollie's last visit, then I'll tell you why and you can call me crazy. We both laugh, I say I'm definitely having a rough morning.

My questions: When was Rollie in (not too long ago, she's current on her shots), did we do bloodwork (we did), how did the results look (they go over them with me when we get them back, but confirmed nothing to worry about). So I say, "Boy, what a relief," but now why am I frantically looking for those answers? Because of the above-mentioned dream where Peppermint is coaxing Rollie to follow her. I tell this all to the receptionist and she says: nope you're fine! It's just peppermint saying you're doing a good job taking care of the rest of the cats.

I go on about my day after we laugh about the dream. What a relief that Rollie is up to date with everything and shows no signs of anything to keep an eye on. Life should go back to normal at this point, right? Wrong, not with 12 cats. Instead, we end up at the annual visit time for the Siamese cats (Rollie and Smokey). Rollie gets sick a week before her scheduled visit, so I take her in for an emergency visit. The next week, Smokey goes in for her visit. They both get updated on shots and bloodwork. Rollie has lost some weight, but not enough to be alarmingly concerning.

We received results for both of them - Kidney Disease. I probably shed a few tears over this before the panic set in. Now we have two cats that need a special diet, supplements, etc. Gene and I are maxed out on time to dole out meds, prescription food is expensive. We free feed, how am I going to make this work.

Just as I feel like I'm getting the kidney disease situation sorted out (including putting 11 cats on prescription food), Rollie gets a "cold," or so we thought, followed by her eye being mostly closed. Two more emergency vet visits for her led to the diagnosis of a tumor/cancer.

While all that is going on, all I keep thinking is Peppermint tried to tell me. She showed up in a dream, and I tried my best to make sure all was well with Rollie. The thing with Cancer/Tumors is that they can go undetected, with no symptoms, and then it's a full-blown thing. So yes, I followed up with my vet, they double-checked the blood work for me, and did everything they should have. I did everything I could, but still, we missed the tumor.

So, do dreams come true if you tell someone? This time, it absolutely did. Do I sound like a crazy person? Absolutely. But at the end of the day, I would do all that again.

In addition to that, I wear a Fitbit every day. I NEVER hit my "zone" workout. I literally have to be out hiking to make that happen. So imagine my shock when, sitting on the floor at the vet's office holding Rollie, she's taking her last breath and my Fitbit goes off saying I hit my "Zone" workout. I almost died right there. Gene chalked it up to me knowing Rollie took her last breath and I was so worked up. My friend Barb said, maybe it was Peppermint saying she was there and is showing Rollie the way. I am more inclined to believe Barb. It aligns with the dream, as wacky and crazy as it may be. But Peppermint and I were soul mates so it makes sense that she is still attached to me in some way, even if it's unrealistic.

Hug your fur kids a little closer today, take pictures of them all the time. Cherish the good times, laugh at the bad times, and enjoy every minute with them!

Till our tails cross,

Mel

Cancer Sucks

I'm not even sure where to start. My mind is a hot mess, jumbled and murky. I'm mad, sad, depressed, hurt, and feeling completely broken. Why? Cancer & Tumors - that's why. At this point in my life I feel that most people have dealt with a cancer situation in some way. Whether you had/have, someone you know had/has, one of your family members, or one of your four legged kids.

In my case - cancer has struck my household twice in 5 years. That's two times to many. This time - it cast it's horrible spell on Rollie, my 18+ siamese cat. I'm beyond devastated, have been crying nonstop for going on 72 hours (as I write this....by the time it posts it will be a full week of hard core ugly crying). Cancer sucks for humans - 100%, it sucks more for pets. As humans we can say I don't feel good, this will make me feel better, I want/need whatever. We can process the treatment options and make a decision based on research and doctors recommendations.

In pets, they don't have that voice, they can't tell us what hurts or doesn't feel good. They can't say this will make me feel better, that treatment is the one I'd like to try. It's left to their hooman and Dr. to make those decisions using our best judgment. Let's add in that the cure for cancer is non-existent, sure radiation and chemo are treatments that can make it go away temporarily or sometimes permanently for humans. In pets, what are the real treatment options? No to many. This time around, there was NO treatment option. Why? Because of the location. Rollie has a tumor, behind her left eye.

How did we get to the tumor diagnosis? We initially went to the vet cause she sounded a little wheezy, her only symptom. Sure she had lost some weight - but we had just gotten our

Kidney Disease diagnosis, so we were not concerned about the weight at this time. We treat with an antibiotic injection. She starts to sound better - fabulous!

Now we notice her eye is closed/squinty. Could be one of a bunch of reasons - an eye infection of some sort, a scratch, debris in the eye. Nothing major to worry about. Nonetheless, I scheduled a Dr. Appointment for her. At which point, the Dr. notices the back of her mouth looks like there is potentially an infection, but more likely she has a tumor behind her eye. So we go over the treatment options - an injection of antibiotic in hopes that it's just a really bad infection that needs more meds, this is a more financial friendly treatment. OR we can schedule for them to do more invasive testing that includes have Rollie put under anesthesia. Right off the bat that is a more expensive option and one we would be best to leave as a last resort.

So I say fingers crossed lets do the antibiotic. Maybe I double crossed somewhere, maybe someone has a voodoo doll and figured I needed this shit in my life. The antibiotic did not work. Eight days later I call the vet to say, it's no better. We discussed previously there isn't much that can be done without costing an arm and a leg and then some. We could do testing that would confirm it's a tumor, but that's it. So why did I call the vet? In hopes that maybe it was something else, denial, who knows. But the answer was, bring her in, we will do some testing tomorrow.

First thing Gene drops her off (After she spent the night with no food and being dosed up on gabapentin). She hangs out at the vets office in the kennel, where she tries to get the door open. She HATES anything with a metal grate or door. She once tried to get out of her carrier with a metal door by pulling her nails out on the metal. Yep - showed up to a routine vet appointment with bloody paws....However, at the vets office she didn't go to that extreme. Dr. B checked on her several times to see if what she was seeing was really what she was looking at. Sure enough, from her visit 8 days ago it had gotten so much worse. Dr. B said Rollie is on her last few days/weeks. It has progressed so fast that the time is moving quickly. No more testing to be done, no anesthesia to be had. Rollie has cancer, and it moved to quickly for anything to be done. On the phone with Dr. B who has the patience of a saint, I cried, sobbed, and gathered my thoughts. What now? That was my question, now what do we do. This seems to be a recurring question with my pets.

Is it truly time to let her cross the rainbow bridge? Is it time in a few weeks? How do we know, like truly know that it's time? There's a questionnaire that the vets office gives us, everytime we end up with an extremely sick cat. It's truly meant to help you decide if it's time. With the all to famous line - Quality of Life is important. It does help, although we have always known it without the questionnaire. My last question: What do you think we should do? I know, really - she can't answer that, she shouldn't answer that. But I ask, and she says how is she at home I tell her: She's moving around more than she ever used to, seems mostly happy/content, obviously in pain. Dr. B says, take her home, spoil her, cuddle with her, give her all the love and treats, give us a call and we can get you scheduled.

I go get her, I cry the entire way there, while I'm there, the entire way home and the entire time I'm at my pet sitting job. At which point I call and schedule for her Euthanasia for Friday afternoon. I sob even more. It's a good thing they know who I am and what I was calling for. Minimal information needed other than to tell me a time, wish me happy last moments and they are sorry for what I'm going thru. I continue to cry for the next 3-4 days on and off about this truly shitty situation that no one should ever be in.

It's absolutely killing me that I have to go to work at the dress shop and the chiropractor, that I'm house sitting ALL week. I'm not home to comfort her, I haven't been there because I've been working so much. I'm hurting for so many reasons, I feel like I failed as a pet parent to her. Deep down, I know I didn't fail her, she got the best care possible, loved more than I can ever explain, spoiled to the maximum. But yet, I still feel like I failed her. She's 18, lived an amazing life, getting the best food, treats, human snacks and all the pets in the world. But yet, I feel so horrible and the one thing I can't get over - I failed her.

So I do what any sane pet parent would do right? I keep going to work, continue with the pet sitting, and decide to wear myself down by visiting Rollie every couple of hours. Cuddles with her sitting on the kitchen floor, sitting by the litter box, laying on the bed in Gene's office cause she silently snuck in there for a snooze. I can sleep later, I can catch up on housework next week, nothing is more important than my time with her, and maintaining the jobs that pay me.

She is a twin, has a sibling by blood (literally from the same litter) that she is bonded with. They are often found laying together, ontop of each other, in the most uncomfortable positions. They are never to far apart. They share everything - including the kidney disease diagnosis. My heart hurts for the empty spot that will never be filled for smokey. My heart hurts that Rollie is going on the Rainbow Bridge Journey without her best pal. She will be reunited with some of her siblings - Peppermint & Pita.

She has a unique bond with one of the kittens as well. Bear - he forced his way into her to close for comfort zone. This happened shortly after the kidney disease diagnosis. Who knows why, but he has decided that she has no personal space whatsoever. She's laying in her comfy bed, he climbs in and lays down right by her side to snooze away the day. She's walking around, he follows her and body slams her, rubs his face on her face, sniffs her butt. Whatever he can do to be a little bit closer to her he does. Most days, it doesn't bother her at all. As the cancer took over and rapidly spread, her patience for his shenanigan's was getting shorter. One day I'm in the kitchen, I see him body slam her. I'm about to say leave her be, she doesn't feel good. But Rollie reacted faster than I could speak. She turned and bit his head, not hard enough to do anything - just enough to let him know she'd had enough. No hard feelings on his part, he still gets to close to her.

I don't know how I will function after this journey is complete for Rollie, things will be different, there will be an absence in our home. Her quirky little meow's, high fives that she tricks everyone into giving her pets, carry jingle balls by her K-9 tooth and dropping them when someone looks, her piercing blue eyes watching me cut cantaloupe waiting for the pieces I "accidently" drop.

Cancer's a bitch, I hate it. I hate that there's no cure for it. I hate that even more so in pets the medical technology isn't there, when it is, it's so expensive you have to make hard decisions - treat or not. All dependant on your financial situation.

Rollie - keep being you, love us, gain your weight back, don't forget your trick - giving fives, watch over us and don't let Smokey leave us to soon. You'll always be my one and only Rollie Pollie. Peppermint & Pita are waiting for you with open paws and hearts.

With a truly broken heart,

Till our tails cross,

Mel

Nap Time!

There was a time in my life when I never would have thought naps would be so important! Naps are for babies - maybe?! As I get older, I no longer sleep great at night. There's lots of tossing and turning, sweating, thoughts running through my mind - all ensuring that I get a crappy night of sleep.

Add in a few cats that all want to sleep in bed with me and Gene. We only have a full-sized bed (love our old house, but the rooms are kinda small)! I usually end up with a tiny sliver of the bed to sleep on, sandwiched between Gene and a cat. It's a good thing I don't have a fear of falling out of bed. So, the crappy sleep I get at night leads me to a midday nap when my schedule allows. Long or short doesn't matter - a nap is a nap, I get the best sleep during my nap!

Once I'm done eating, I open my book, he hunkers down a little more, and I slowly fade into dreamland. A truly good nap time will find Roughy and me lightly snoring and drooling midday. Do we care how long we get to snooze? Not particularly! If I leave and he wants more snoozing, he just turns his head when I leave. Otherwise, he gets up and continues on with his cat day.

Just like those kids who get cranky when nap time is missed or cut short - that happens to Roughy. If I am house-sitting and don't have time to come home for our nap-time, he acts out. He will bully the other cats - hitting, biting, and chasing them. Why?!? It's not like they did anything; he's just cranky and has to take out his aggressions on one of his siblings. While that gets his aggression out, he still has to test the boundary line. We don't love it, but he gets some leniency of what he is allowed to do that is usually forbidden. Like sleeping on the counter in the kitchen. That's a hard no, but Gene decided to let it slide as Roughy will do spite peeing in the house. So, sleeping on the counter versus peeing in inappropriate spots - go ahead, sleep on all the counters Roughy!

He also has this not-so-cute thing he does: he sits on the dining room table (which is by the front door) when people come in. So, automatically, people pet him. Which is fine - but he's slightly temperamental on a fully napped day, so imagine on a no-nap day or week! He has swatted at people or gone to bite. Recently, a friend came over, he was on the table ready for pets. She touched him, he bit her finger. Immediately - no pet actually got completed. As if that wasn't enough, he swatted her travel cup off the table. Which, honestly, is a first for him. None of our cats have blatantly knocked things off the table like that. Usually when they are playing, this was a true spite knocking off the table.

We just finished a week of no nap times. I was home for 5 minutes and leaving with my friend, and he knew it. I had one more night of house sitting - he was done waiting for naps. He is a truly spoiled cat. The very next day, I ended up taking an unplanned 4-hour nap. He stayed the entire time. Usually, we nap for no more than an hour. We truly made up for lost time.

So, Roughy and I both encourage you to pencil nap time into your day! Do it with a furry friend or solo, whatever works for you! Naps are great and not just for young kids!

Till our tails cross again,

Mel