Tragedy of Feline Porportions

Yesterday 4am my alarm going off as it always does but I have been responding to it rarely.  I frankestein-monster myself downstairs to catch it before everyone is awake.  It was playing Awake My Soul by Mumford & Sons.
I heard a ruckus outside, cat yowls and crashing.  Siddius Kittius didn't come in when I called him, after I stuck my head outside & called once hearing the noises again, I figure I had better go out and see what's up.  I paused to put on boots, hoodie, grab flashlight.

Outside in the moonless early morning, I "skskskss" again for the cat, sense a motion off to the left, shine the light.  A pair of glowing marbles look back at me and the shadow begins to lope away as I approach the scene.

Poor Siddius, curled slightly, breathing shallow, not moving.  I picked him up and brought him inside, went to wake The Man.

On our tile his breaths continued to be shallow for a bit, he eventually calmed and appeared to sleep.  He knew he was safe.

The Man & I debated at length about what to do, the prohibitive cost of repairing a cat vs. the less prohibitive prospect of euthanize of course Miss Monkey had to be involved.  Siddius never moved from the place I laid him, we wrapped him and re-wrapped him.  He was in pain, let out a groaning sigh now and then.

We woke Bigger Little Girl and told her what happened.  The Man and she prepped to go to a local 24 hour vet clinic I had to stay behind as Toddleator E has been experiencing a rather daunting fever.

Off they went to say final good-byes to Darth Siddius, we were all sobbing off an on.

And the grieving began.  I miss that little cat's presence over and over and over.  He was an incredibly sweet cat.  Attacking feet, chewing on toes, knocking things off the counter and sill chasing flies, chasing dogs out on the path, he'd come running running running when I sat out to call him in after a ramble.  Porter misses him, they played Bite-Face-Huggie-Paw the last time as a friend & I looked on chatting about pros/cons of letting cats out.

Repetitively all day with Miss Monkey talking about feelings, "I feel so sad...", that it's normal & natural to feel sad because we loved him so very much.  Letting her emote in her own way, completely.  I think the habit is too much to stop  it, to attempt to fix it, to medicate with with distraction.  These feelings are necessary to allow the moments to pass in a healthy way, eventually the hurt will subside if we feel all the way into it.

More later on this, and last pic or vid when I find it.  Right now I've a gymnast to rangle.

Death at the Door

There they are, eyeballin' their next possible tribute.  Twice last week I found offerings on the front step, narrowly missed stepping on a fresh vole.  No sign of chewing, I assume that's Darth Kittius' first offering to us, usually Porter enjoys at least a bit off his tributes before sharing.  A day later, a smattering of feathers and a piece of entrails drawing flies---my main concern, having gotten used to the lack of insect annoyances here, it's unfavorable to suddenly have a bottle fly banging on the windows.  Worse still, Darth enjoys chasing them in his still-kitten way, felling photos and spreading countertop items to the floor in the process.

Marvelous Monkey

I've had this post in mind since yesterday.
On our way to meet The Man at the gym, Miss Monkey seems to be struggling, gratefully I am aware enough to notice when it isn't something that can wait, she needed some time. And what might be so dramatic as to cause a mama pause?  Her sudden realization that her kitten isn't a kitten anymore, and he never will be again.

It started with her comment that she hated Darth Siddius because he wasn't a tiny little kitten anymore.  Then some lament about how she wouldn't want him to grow at all.  After consoling her, commiserating a little from my experience watching her grow so big from a tiny baby, how I miss her as a baby but I do love her wonderful big girl state now, and how I've loved every moment between.  Shortly, she came around to a more thinking state. 

Passage of time is such a gift. To know, really really know, that not a thing stays the same catalyzes understanding of our rare and precious experiences. I asked her if she thought the kitten would still act a kitten if he were to stay small--yes of course he would, right? I had to dash that fantasy, "no sweetheart, if he stayed small, he would grow and learn from inside, his kitty spirit would change with time, then eventually he would be an old cat in a kitten body. That sounds kinda sad to me."

To be in the moment to moment present, with no clinging to conditions or objects or actions, there can be only love....get some serious loving acceptance around impermanence....well here I am learning it and teaching it.
Happiest of precious, fleeting, days.
: )  <3

Kitties finally making nice.

After the initial adjustments they're starting to get along....mostly.  There's an occasional hiss-fwap-spat with a stair chase, mostly they're wrestling buddies at opportune times of the day when the girls are sleeping or otherwise occupied.   Watching movies after Littles are asleep, we hear what sounds like miniature elephants in the playroom directly above, 'cause when kids are away cats will play.

Narrowly Averted Heartbreak

I let the cats out before we went grocery shopping.  Only one came back in...the kitten went missing.  I was driven to distraction with guilt that it was possible he was gone, he was a baby, and I just let him outside into the wilds of the world, woe to me I broke my own daughter's heart indirectly causing her very first beloved pet loose.  He's a cat though, and has a bigger cat as a great example.  I kept thinking, "weird that he'd go much farther than the small patch woodsy area where he and Porter normally play."  When I prayed it out, I somehow felt that Darth Siddius Kittius was safe and close, but we had to find him.  Of course all sorts of scenarios were played out by both The Man and I, his of course were darker and more sinister, filled with mean people doing mean things.  I was mostly worried that he'd been strangled by his almost-too-small collar and we'd never know. The worst part of the ordeal, the not knowing.  When some loved one, even a pet, goes missing the worst is not really knowing whether it's appropriate to start the grieving process. I did cry some, and yet still something told me that he wasn't far.

So, yesterday we were hangin' outside, Miss Monkey attempting practicing her two wheel skills a bit more.  We overheard neighbors talking about a kitten up a tree.  Immediately, "what kitten? where?"  Turns out Darth  Kittius was up a tree---almost 30 feet up a tree.  A tree that both The Man and I walked under several times in our attempt to locate him. 

Though the fire department said, "we don't do that anymore" when I called (which I totally understand, I grew up where cats/kittens come down on their own), a small contingent crew showed up anyway.  

And I'm really really glad they did, imagine having to explain to her much much later in life why the Firemen wouldn't help, and what really happened with her kitten who mightn't have had sense enough (at 7 months) to come down...that'd be some dark story to work out in therapy.

A hero is someone who helps us to avoid disaster and heartbreak.

Huzzah!  West Metro Fire Rescue! Huzzah!

e.t.a: according to neighbor-lady, Darth Kittius was playfully pouncing on doggie snouts as they sniffed those 'special' spots....guess he pounced the wrong pup, no wonder he skittered that far up a tree!

L&L Report

The Toddleator has been brought into the "Uh-Oh, bedroom-time, you-can-come-back-when-you-can-be-sweet/friendly/gentle" song. If she doesn't like what I'm saying, screams over and over in obvious defiance as I'm talking, it's "Uh-Oh".  If she's not listening to my request of "stop" usually related to safety or mitigation of messes, it's ""Uh-Oh".  If there's excessive hitting, it's "Uh-Oh."  Throwing or spitting food, it's "uh-oh."  Recently she's been really pushing her limits, and I have to remember 1) not to warn her over and over, 2) not to lose my cool--it's too entertaining.  

One day this week, a little trip outside I used "All those who listen to mommy can stay outside longer."  Incredibly, she processed the info and came right back to me.  Sometimes it takes a solid 5 seconds before my direction has been filtered through her ears, into the head, trickled down through her body to the toes, then back up to the brain to be received...it's the processing time I've also got to remember.  Toddlers don't think as quickly as adults or bigger kids, they're still forming all those neural pathways. So, it's my discretion whether she's being defiant or the information hasn't percolated enough yet.

Darth Siddius--yes I'm aware it should be Sidious, but really prefer our spelling 'cause it's too close to the word insidious, and didn't want to prematurely label him Kitten of Doom.  Anyway, Darth Siddius has proven quite a test of listening for the Younger of The Two.  We find ourselves in almost constant verbal cycle of "put the kitten down please...that hurts kitten...no touch kitty please...all done kitten," repeat, repeat, repeat.  I've noticed that if he really doesn't want to play he'll run away from her, if he does and plays too rough then she'll run away from him (in tears of course).  They will eventually work out some balance.  It's highly unusual for small children to really hurt an animal, especially if the animal in question can squirm, scratch, and bite enough to defend itself if in discomfort.  The Firstborn learned her lesson with Porter...eventually.

Miss Monkey's tantrums have definitely subsided from the early changing-of-method fireworks.  

She hates when I reply, "Maybe so" when she says "This is/You're stupid!"  She'll yell at me, "Stop saying 'Maybe so'!"  *win*

As she's stomping and screaming up the stairs, "Hey, could you be a bit louder?  I think the neighbors missed that one."  She screams, "No!"  *win* ---also works in public.

When she curses, and she does say something like, "I think she is/you are sh*t!" lately only while already in her room.  "Oh, thanks for your creativity, you can come out when you're sweet."  One day on an errand to the bank, this came back on her, she wanted a lollipop.  "Oh, you know, sweet things don't come out of your mouth, sweet things don't go in."  It was doubly sad when baby sister did get a lolly.  *win*

At my last Love & Logic Class I asked if it's permissible to keep a notebook of poor decisions awaiting consequences.  I found it difficult to keep track of delayed consequences, i.e. refusing to contribute to household one day might mean not going to the park a couple of days later, my memory mayn't be that great in some circumstances.  So I started the notebook and decided I needed clarify to Miss Monkey it's purpose, and since then haven't have to use it at all. *win*

I love that when she wants something at the store, I simply ask if she brought her wallet.  Today all I had to do was utter a quiet, "uuoohhhhhhh" and the immediate look I received was a *win* and then total compliance.

My favorite phrases lately:

"How do you think this is going to work out for you?"

and

"I think that's a pretty poor decision, pretty sure it'll work out poorly for you."

Happy Momma here.