It’s been two weeks since I took Billy the cat home from the animal shelter. I have to admit that he is more than I can deal with. After years of having low key senior cats, Billy is both a breath of fresh air and an out of control circus performer on steroids in comparison.
He is just a little over a year old. His favorite thing to do is run zoomies around the house and terrorize my furniture and carpets. He sees scratching posts as a poor choice compared to upholstered chairs and rugs He is a hunter and likes to practice by biting and clawing away at his toys, as well as at any available hands and ankles. Billy is also an adorable cuddle monkey. He is a lap cat of the first order. On the first night in my house he came over and sat on my chest when I laid down in bed. He makes my heart sing when he snuggles up for some pets. He is very entertaining as well, poking his head around the shower curtain when I am taking a shower and climbing into the refrigerator when my back is turned to put something on the counter that I have taken out. His favorite toy is feathers on a stick. He will follow it anywhere and perform amazing gymnastic maneuvers, leaping and flipping, trying to “catch” the feathers. When he does catch it he will proudly drag his trophy around the room. He needs and demands lots and lots of attention. Billy is a a master at being a cat. He explores everything with an enviable curiosity. He “hunts” with precision and skill. He knows what he wants and goes after it with gusto. I guess cats are trainable but really it’s a matter of them training their owners. I have not been able to find a way to “train” Billy to direct his cat energy away from doing destructive things. I have decided to let someone else take on that challenge. This makes me very sad. It feels like another loss in the long list of losses I have endured this year. I really wanted Billy to be “the one,” a cat I could grow older with. But I am already old and Billy needs more than I can give. I feel like a failure but I know I have done the best I could to provide a good home for him. Billy needs a place that matches his high energy and has more exciting things to interact with than a little old lady and a lot of upholstered furniture. So today I am going to bring Billy back to the shelter. It is a shelter where their only focus is to find animals the right home. I will bring his beloved feathers on a stick toy too and notes on what I know about him that will hopefully help him find the perfect new home. Update: Billy is now back at the shelter. They treated me and Billy in a supportive and understanding manner. The house feels empty tonight. Update of the update: Billy got adopted!
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![]() I love my doctor. He became my doctor a little over a year ago when I was randomly assigned to him after my previous doctor moved on. I was very lucky that he was willing to take on leftover patients due to the lack of doctors at the clinic that I go to. Today I had my annual Medicare physical. This is cool because rather than the usual 15 minute exam for regular visits demanded by insurance, he was able to spend an hour with me. He used that time well. To begin with he started by acknowledging the death of my twin sister. We just talked for a while about the circumstances of her death and how it affected me. Yes, this information was helpful from a medical standpoint but his empathy was real. He asked questions about what kind of support she and her family had and how I was dealing with this loss. I was able to share about how the pandemic made it impossible for me to be with her and how sad and frustrating that was. Next he checked in about my concerns. Sore shoulder, CPAP questions, flu shot, glucose testing and diabetes issues, all checked with efficiency and concern. Lab results looked good. Appointments were scheduled. I wanted to get the usual little old lady skin issues looked at but no dermatologists were available at the clinic because of Covid. It would have meant driving “over the hill” for an appointment, which is a curvy mountain freeway from hell. He suggested he could do it at a follow-up visit next month. Yay! I don’t have to stress myself out driving to see a dermatologist. We ended the appointment talking about death and spirituality. Really! I have never discussed this with a doctor before. We got a chance to briefly share our experiences and perspectives. I felt listened to, and I was happy to hear a young doctor talk about ideas that I normally only share with my oldster friends. What an unexpected breath of fresh air disguised as a doctor visit! Now I just have to get myself geared up for a colonoscopy. I decided I could no longer remain a Little Old Lady Without Cats so I started actively looking for the purrrrfect new kitty. Once again I have learned that nothing is perfect, even though that fantasy dies hard. My previous cats Mario and Kitty were not perfect. Mario was super territorial and got into fights with other cats. He even attacked dogs walking by on a leash which shocked and upset me, as well as the innocent dog owners. Mario was very fond of humans, however. He would charm the pants off of total strangers passing by, as long as they weren’t accompanied by a dog, and shamelessly grovel at their feet for attention. Kitty on the other hand cowered when a stranger came into the house, quickly seeking safety behind the window seat until they were gone. Anyone able to come close was greeted with a menacing hiss. These flaws were offset by their more endearing qualities, Mario’s friendly calm demeanor and Kitty’s loving cuddly lap cat attachment to her cat Mom, me. In my head I was looking for a combination of Mario and Kitty’s good qualities in my new cat. I was also used to having senior pets who spent the bulk of the day napping. They were both well behaved in general and never clawed the furniture or knocked things over the way cats sometimes do. As it got closer to my birthday I started seriously looking for a new cat to fill the hole left by the loss of my fur babies. My town has two beautiful and well run animal rescue organizations for me to explore, the SPCA and the Animal Shelter. I had a slow start at the SPCA where I encountered a biter, a howler, and some adorable but giant cats that were too heavy for me to pick up. On my birthday I went to the Animal Shelter and met Billy. Billy was the right size for me to handle and had beautiful golden eyes and a shiny black coat. During our interaction in the visiting room he was curious and cautious but let me pat his head and stroke his back without taking a chunk out of my hand. He was younger than my ideal candidate, just a year old, but he seemed relatively calm and mature. The next day I visited the shelter with my housemate and he was equally friendly and sweet with her. I was enchanted. He had all the good qualities of Mario and Kitty. I followed all the protocols for introducing a cat into a new environment when I brought Billy home. I had everything set up for him in my bedroom and bathroom so he could explore a small space before having access to the whole house. I left him alone to sniff and check out every nook and cranny. When I came in later I let him get used to me slowly and then laid down on the bed. Billy came over and sat on my chest. Bingo! He was cuddly just as I had hoped. The next morning Billy displayed the same loving cuddliness - and then did a series of zoomies around the bedroom and bathroom crashing into the walls and jumping up and down off of the bed. Ooooh-Kay! This was something I did not expect having spent the last fifteen to twenty years with senior cats. We took some time to chat (he has an adorable chirpy little meow) and then I brought out the feathered cat-toy-on-a-stick that Mario and Kitty basically ignored. He went crazy leaping and pouncing around in a series of acrobatic moves that would amaze a circus crowd. Yesterday Billy got access to the whole house. He very meticulously sniffed every corner of the living room, gracefully weaving his way around some stuff that could have easily been knocked over but wasn’t. Unfortunately he does not realize that I spent a lot of bucks on two matching recliners that look, to him, a lot like scratching posts. I quickly covered the vulnerable items with towels and made a note to get some furniture protectors. He continues to do random zoomies. Yesterday he found a large bag of panty liners in my closet and proudly dragged it out to show me his trophy. He likes to hunt. Billy loves sitting in my lap while I watch TV, just like Kitty did. He is charming and connects with people in the same way as Mario. But he is his own cat. I am learning to appreciate his youthful energy and sense of adventure and I am working on finding a way to deal with the disasters that he will undoubtedly create. I had thought about changing his name to “Forrest” thinking it matched his elegant look but it doesn’t match his emerging personality. A friend suggested “Elvis” (Billy came home on Elvis' birthday) which is probably closer to reality, but I think I will stay with “Billy” for now. Seventy-four years ago my sister Linda was born. Twenty minutes later I followed her into the world. I don’t remember anything about it except that we were told it almost happened in the cab on the way to the hospital. We were a big surprise in more ways than one. Surprise #1: Mom was not expecting it to happen for another month. She was scrubbing the kitchen floor getting ready to have a friend over for lunch when her water broke. Dad was at work so Mom called him and got a cab to the hospital. Dad took the time to go home and clean up, thinking this would take a while like it had for our older sister Sue. Unbeknownst to him we were already born when he got to the hospital. He met a friend in the elevator who congratulated him on being a father of - surprise #2: TWINS! Somehow our parents survived the unexpected challenges of having two babies at once when they had been planning on one. They needed two of EVERYTHING, two names, two cribs, two high chairs, two different formulas, and mounds of bottles, diapers, blankies. It must have been overwhelming. Since the moment of our original “birth day” I have never had a birthday without my sister, so this year feels particularly strange. Lin died in February 2021. Except for last year when neither of us was able to travel, we had celebrated the last few birthdays together in California. Before that we were always on the phone, comparing notes on how it felt to be 30, or 40, or 50, or more. This year I will not be comparing notes with her on the wonders and challenges of being 74. I will need to do that reflecting on my own. I like being 74. There is a feeling of acceptance for myself and my life that I didn’t have in my younger years. I love being retired even though I have good memories of my career as a teacher. As a fellow teacher friend once said, “What I like about retirement is that I don’t have to try to make anyone do what they don’t really want to do anymore.” I can do things at my own pace, kind of like the fantasy you have as a kid about what life will be like as an adult. On the other hand I am strongly aware that I am not immortal. A larger percentage of my life is behind me. There is not that sense of wonder about what my life will be like. It’s not that I don’t look forward to new adventures, but the possibilities don’t feel limitless any more. The other night I watched a show on Netflix about a contest for young high school aged actors. They were all motivated and excited about a being on stage in the future as professional performers. The whole world was open to them. I found myself being sad and jealous that I no longer felt that seemingly endless sense of time spreading out before me. The good part of being older, however, is I that I no longer feel the fear and uncertainty of being thrust into the adult world that I did as a teenager. I am not overwhelmed by life’s ups and downs. I have experienced the joy of connecting with the people I love and survived the deep emptiness of their loss. I have learned how to take care of myself and support others at the same time. I was blessed to be able to see and know my parents from an adult perspective and appreciate what they went through to raise three girls, including twins. There are some advantages to being 74 that I could never have comprehended as a teenager and I am grateful that I am still on this planet to experience them. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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