Looking Back (To Move Forward)

In cleaning up some social media clutter, and preparing to re-enter the blogosphere with a bit of a re-boot to my beloved 3rd Generation Food Pusher, I came across a blog I wrote but never published.  It dates back to the holiday season of 2009, about ten months before I met Red Beard.  I was just starting to like the idea of blogging, and was going to post some practice pieces to my Facebook page, to get some feedback.

Daffy-dills & Flamingos; 2 of my favorite things ever.

I knew I was coming out of some dark times but I didn't realize just how far I'd come until I re-read it.  My ankle still gets angry by the way, I thought it had only been 3 years, not 4, since I had injured it:

As I look around at the things of all sizes that I'm thankful for this holiday season, I can't help but notice the glaring difference between where I'm at now versus where I was at a year ago. 

Last year, it was all about dealing with obligations and trying to gather the courage to sever ties with vile and poisonous people.  I didn't have a lot of fun.  I spent weekends with my parents.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love my parents and I truly love spending time with them.  But I was living the life of a 60 yr old (if you looked at my social life).  I was sad and depressed and gaining weight like a sumo wrestler.  I worked and went home and that was about the it. 

Oh the difference a year makes! 

I survived spraining my ankle so bad it took 6 months to fully heal (December).  

I survived the pain that came from being dropped like trash by two of my closest friends on the planet (December through February).  

I survived that horrible bridal shower, where I was treated like a servant - as in, invisible.  Seriously.  The girl I threw the party for didn't even introduce me to anyone.  And her mom and sister spent the entire day planning her "real" shower (being held the next month) right there in front of me.  They even mentioned taking the extra goody bags with them to give to their friends; talk about classy!  (February, Happy Valentines!!)  No, in case you were wondering, I did not attend the wedding.  In fact, I'd been prepared (happily after that damn shower) to be excluded from the guest list all together; imagine my shock when I received an invitation.

I survived moving our offices and all sorts of work-related drama (March & April).  And of course I survived more Granny Drama than I'm going to even attempt to list here.

But as the year moved on into spring, things started to improve.  Some of it was helped along by time.  Any sort of break-up, even one with a friend, takes time to get over.  A few months go by and you suddenly realize that you aren't sad anymore.  Rather, you're relieved that you aren't being dragged down by icky people.  You've learned to be comfortable alone again.  And you realize that maybe it's time to start coming out of your hobbit hole.

My ass started to shrink, thanks to regular workout sessions, and my social circle started to expand, thanks to Facebook and some awesome women that I still can not BELIEVE that I ever lost touch with.  Okay, yeah, and I started dating again.  Let's face it - even a bad awful weird first date can be an ego boost when the guy tells you that you're pretty.  I had several dates where that happened.  One in particular ranks as my worst date EVER (and if you know my history, you know just how horrid it had to be) and still, it did some good. 

Life isn't perfect - life is incapable of being perfect.  But I have a lot to be thankful for.  My family, adopted, blood relations, and everything in between, is kind of awesome.  Ok, yes, we have more than our fair share of drama queens and problem children, but as a whole it works.  My job, while perhaps not my dream job, is good and steady and solid and the people are very cool.  For all that the Granny Situation makes me want to tear out my hair daily, it's also taught me some great lessons regarding patience and keeping my temper in check and not saying things in anger.  I'm spending loads of time with people that I can actually trust - there's no strings, people say what they mean and do what they say, it's drama free, with no undercurrents or backstabbing.  How many people can say that their mom is one of their best friends?  Or that the girls they had breakfast with are folks they've known since 2nd grade?  Do you know how rare it is to have a cosmic twin?   

Here's hoping that things continue to improve!

And they did!  Imagine that!

• Here I am, still dealing with Granny but not living with Granny anymore...
• Engaged .... soon to be a WIFE if you can believe it...
• A cat parent to the most adorable and fluffy giant kitten ever...
• Practically an aunt to 16 kiddos, to be an actual official aunt in October (on top of the 3 on my side of the family)...
• A Fairy God Mother to a few more ...
• And best of all, still hanging out with those same awesome women I mentioned above (plus a few more).

He attacked the camera about 2 seconds after this was snapped.

What's weird is, all of the girls and I have similar stories about friendships from college and throughout our twenties not standing the test of time.  And similar experiences getting over friend break-ups.  Give me a break-up with a boyfriend any day over parting ways with a girl who you thought you could trust; ouch!  

There will be recipes in the days to come; and maybe a few rants about the crap involved with planning a wedding.  It's time to get back to what I love - and I love the food!  I'm also finding that I rather adore home-improvement/craft projects and gardening; who knows, maybe this food pusher will be branching out in the coming months...

Talk to you all soon!

Introducing the Wonder Kitten

It all began as a way to make Red Beard crazy.  

Red Beard is a little dog obsessed (this was before we got the Crazy Pup).  He kept looking up dogs to adopt or puppies to buy, constantly.  It was all, "look how cute" and "he'd love our yard" and "oooh, read this abuse story, maybe we could go meet him".

No don't get me wrong, I love dogs and I DID want a dog  However, I didn't really like the idea of him getting a dog and I got ... well ..... part ownership of the same dog, plus all the work that goes with it.  

I'm a girl, and the youngest, and fairly spoiled - I wanted a pet tooooo (insert whiny voice here).  Though puppies are completely awesome ... and more than enough work for 2 people .... but I just love making him crazy.  Anyway, regardless of how my twisted brain got there, I got my Irish up.  

And I started doing searches of my own ... for BUNNIES.  Because he said that I could NOT, under any circumstances, ever have a house bunny.

Oh really.

It wasn't hard to find 893 bunnies up for adoption, and after he'd been forced to look at 807 pictures of fluffy bunnies, he was starting to lose patience.  His ears were getting red and everything.  

So when I mentioned wanting a cat for Christmas, he was all relieved and agreed instantly!  How smart am I?!

Originally, I was looking for a Bengal to adopt.  We found one for my mom a few years ago, and did a lot of reading about the breed's "quirks" then (whoever wrote those articles left a ton out, let me tell you).  After living with Boris the Animal since 2007, I was pretty sure I knew a thing or two about the Bengel's insane nature, and it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.  I figured I could do a good deed by adopting, and it wasn't like I would ever even attempt to justify spending $1200 (!!) on a kitten anyways.    

My search led me to Purebreds Plus Cat Rescue.  PPCR is fantastic!  They take in any number of cats, from any number of breeds (including hybrids like Bengals and Chausies), collected from various humane societies and SPCAs, and even cats from breeders that have been closed down for any number of horrible reasons.  Just be warned, going on their website will make you cry.  Most of the cats have a story (a sad story!), and PPCR just loves detailing the medical attention or re-socialization many of these cats needed after they were rescued.   Sniff.

The adoption process was lengthy, involving essay questions and a review of my vet records regarding any previous cats I'd owned.  PPCR volunteers calling ALL of the  references I listed, and spoke with my vet.   At first, I was really surprised, but then I realized - PPCR is run by crazy cat people.  OF COURSE they called my references and spoke with my vet.  They don't let their newly rescued babies go to just ANYONE. 

Despite the very cute Bengals and Siamese and Scottish Fold and Persians that I saw and read about and cried over, there was no doubt which of the little fuzzy wuzzies I was destined to take home:

Pick Me! Pick Me!

Meet Wonder Kitten, a Maine Coon kitten adopted the day after Thanksgiving. Well, really we adopted him officially two weeks sooner, but he had a small flea problem that needed handling before we brought him home. He was around 6 months old and 7 lbs when we got him.  Our vet took one look at his feet and said "You know he's going to grow right? He's going to grow a LOT".  Ummm, yeah.  He has.  In just about 10 weeks he's gained 3 lbs and is the size of a normal run-of-the-mill adult cat.  Except, in Maine Coon terms, he's only about half way there.

We were told repeatedly by his foster mommy that he was a Shy Cat.  Didn't take to strangers quickly, may not like us, blah blah blah. 

Wonder Kitten is NOT shy.  

He wasn't shy when we met him at foster mommy's house (he head butted me and started chewing on my thumb, then climbed in my lap, all in the first 3 minutes ... then emptied my purse and started dragging it around the living room).

He wasn't shy on the drive home from Sacramento (he howled until we let him out of the carrier; then slept in my lap and drooled on me for the next 2 hours).

Shut up in a carrier = Angry Kitty

He wasn't shy when we first got him home (he took a huge poo in his shiny new box, ate a bowl of kibble, and snuggled between us on the bed).

He hasn't been shy any day since.  

In fact, he's nosy and obnoxious and insists on helping me with everything I do.

I think his foster mom doesn't quite know what the word "shy" means.  

That's not to say that foster mommy didn't do a good job - he was a little more behind on his inoculations than I liked, but he didn't have ringworm, ear mites, or kennel cough (all common in multiple-cat environments); he was box trained and super socialized and didn't have more than a couple of neuroses.  Though she did name him Harry Potter ... I'm a fan of the entire H/P enterprise, books and movies both, but that is not an acceptable cat name.  He didn't even like it himself.  

All in all, she did a brilliant job raising him from this:

Poor Little Baby Orphaned Harry Potter

To This:

... shy my ass!

Granted, he's got a few issues:

• He drowns his toys in his water dish
• He's addicted to my hair ties, up to and including trying to pull them out of my hair
• He's a pack rat.  His stash is under our bed.  When things go missing, like slippers or socks or pens, that's where they we find them.
• He thinks cell phones = chew toys.
• He's given my dad's Big Scary Hunting Dog an inferiority complex; the Buster Keaton is now in therapy.
• He's farts when he's excited.
• He thinks feet are evil and waits until you're sleeping to attack them
• He loves cough drops and Hershey's kisses and brings them to you in the middle of the night, all slimy.
• The laptop is the warmest place to sleep in the house.
• He seems to think he's the most handsome and precious animal ever to grace the earth

And I have to say, I tend to agree with him.

 He's my boy.  And he's beautiful and fearless and playful and talkative and just a little bit crazy, with all of the same authority problems that his new pet parents have.  

Bring on the puppies.

*******************************************************

Update:  Apparently, issue #45 is that the Wonder Kitten likes trail mix.  Unfortunately, as evidenced by the mess I just had to clean up in my laundry room,  trail mix DOES NOT LIKE HIM BACK.  Cats shouldn't eat dried cranberries and almonds.  Bad messy things will happen.  (gag)