July 20, 1990 was Friday

And the day I brought this kitty home

as a 12 week old kitten home from a Dallas suburb no kill shelter called, Operation Kindness. The shelter remains today in a bigger and better facility. Back on that 1990 Summer day tho, I'd been laid-off for a month and half and mourned the loss of my fat cat Morris from feline leukemia. This disease was new on the horizon. I'd let Morris run around one too many times outside and he'd gotten into a fight. Breaks my heart even after all these years. I knew I would get another cat--yet being unemployed, and already with one cat-Millee, who was actually Morris' mom, and thankfully negative for FeLv--I thought I ought to hold off.  
**A friend of mine goes, "Hold off for what?  A kitty needs you." Didn't need to twist my arm twice. 
***Anyway, the night of the 19th, I went to Operation Kindness and spent what I"m sure seemed like forever in there. As I was about to walk out--with empty hands--one of the shelter ladies, took me to a cage. This bundle of furr snoozed while those in the cage played around him. The lady said his name was Tiger. I knew right then, the name would change if I took him. I picked Tiger up, which woke him up. He was cute, yet I wasn't fallin' over backwards, until he began to lick my face. I think the shelter lady wasn't sure what I'd do, so she quickly said Tiger had been taken away from his mom too soon--hence he licked my face. In fact, Tiger had already been with somebody, but they brought him back.
***I melted with the kitty kisses, but gave Tiger back to the patient shelter lady. I'd have to sleep on it, I told her.  Of course, by the time I got home, I regretted not taking the kitten. I would have gone back then, but Operation Kindness was closed for the night. The next morning, July  20th, I called Operation Kindness ter--shortly after they'd opened.  The lady who introduced me to Tiger answered the phone and remembered me, but said another lady had been in that morning already. That lady talked like she was going to come and get Tiger.  My heart sank. The lady told me to get there PDQ--she knew I saw Tiger first, but she couldn't "hold' him. I flew out of my apartment right after I told the lady I was coming to get my cat. I'm not even sure I hung the phone up--this was way before cell phones--
****Once at Operation Kindness, the same lady helped me with Tiger, and another woman said, "Was there someone else..." And the lady who helped me told her yes, but announced how I'd been there last night and this morning I wanted him. I got there first.  I remember the other lady had a not so pleasant look on her face, but said nothing.  I hoped the other Tiger lover wouldn't shop up. As I did the paperwork, wondering where/when I was going to get a new job to pay for my newest member, Tiger got a bath and little blue collar. He wasn't happy with either one.  I just hoped he would be happy with me.
Tiger became Brenner, because of Yul Brynner being the King in the classic "The King and I" and well, Tiger was part Siamese. My sweet Brenner Bren and I had each other til 2001 when  cancer waged a good war against Brenner and won.
***Even now--after all these years, I still expect to look at a basket of warm, fresh right out of the dryer clean clothes and my own King of Siam, Brenner nestled right in the middle as if  the basket were his throne. 
I heart Cats and pretty darn proud of it.  

Cat's Meow

Mooch. That is the cat's name---for now. Maybe forever, I have not decided yet. This is the feline who bunked down in my shed all these months. I feared the cat was a she eventho I was in denial because I did not see any 'he' parts. The cat is fluffier than I am use to--so I was in denial. I called the cat Mooch, because she mooched off me when it came to my shed.

The little photo is Mooch when I first noticed her last July. I admit I feed all the cats and possums that stroll thru my back yard. No biggie. Those cats and possums leave. The difference about Mooch: she was a kitten. I wondered what in the world a kitten was doing running around, with dogs (all sides of my house, my neighbors have dogs) and cars everywhere. And the kitten kept coming back--daily. I was surprised because the other, older cats showed up whenever.

Then there was the day, my shed doors were opened some. I saw Mooch come out. I didn't think any thing of it. I wound up closing the twin doors. That's when I saw Mooch walk past the closed doors and look up. Hmm. I wondered. I could jar the door open, just enough for her (and a possum). Mooch moved in. I caught her on the top of these metal shelves--sleep. Long story in all of this...and yes, I put a bed and blankets out there for her. Cat people do these things. :)

I have no idea how long Mooch has been really in my shed. There was really nothing in the shed, so I pretty much ignored it. I noticed Mooch in July. Not until December, did Mooch let me close enough to touch without running--too far. Cat people know it can take a while for a cat to trust you. Even in December, she kept me at arms length to pet her--then Mooch would just walk away from my touch. Nonetheless, I noticed Mooch coming in and out of my shed, resting in my patio chair, resting my backyard lawn, and peaking at me as I stood in the door. One night, I peaked out at midnight and Mooch sat in front of the shed. When I went outside, she ran up to me--about two feet and just sat. That was our game, until...

I got confirmation Mooch was indeed a girl. I noticed the older neighborhood cats were in my yard. I thought, "Oh, how cute!" Then I saw one of the neighborhood cats--a big, ol' frumpy lookin' one, have his manly way with Mooch. I opened the door and shoo'd them away. Mooch ran AFTER them. I'm like, "Naw, we ain't havin' this."

Had to figure out to catch her. She barely let me touch her, yet was having a party in my shed. I saw four tomcats run out when I walked toward the shed. I thought about closing it and having Mooch fend for herself. I almost...ALMOST did that, however I couldn't. Did the people who did have her care? Did they even miss her? If Mooch wanted to live in the shed--fine. Having babies in the shed--uh, NO. I tried to scoop her up a couple times, when I thought I caught her off guard.-Spastic, struggled, howl'd. Either I let her go or get an eye clawed out. What to do? Turns out a co-worker had a cat trap and she let me borrow it.

After I finally figured how to use it (thanks You Tube!), I set the trap out on the patio. Mooch waited to be fed. She saw where her food was--in the trap. Her belly won out. I caught her in about five minutes. That was on a Monday. I gave her a few days to get use to me, the pride of cats that already live here, as he stayed in my room with the PC. All the while I looked up to schedule to get her spay'd.

On Friday, March 2--Mooch got her shaved belly. She loves to purr and be petted. Still won't let me pick her up. We're working on that. My other cats watch and kind of ignore her all the same time--except, my other female feline. I think it's a Queen versus Princess there. No attacks--just air jabs and hisses--mainly from Mooch.

So on this Saturday, Mooch is still her name. If we had bonded when she was kitten, Mooch's name was going to be "Verte"---for green, because her eyes are gorgeous emeralds. Her name may change. Maybe. Maybe not.

She did mooch off me for the shed as she worked right into my heart.

Stay tuned.

Terra Cotta Curious

Did I ever show you this creation from August past? I do like what I tried to do. Paint job was not the best--yet it gave me an idea what the 4 inch terra cotta pot would look like. I gave a better painted pot, with a quote from the great American actor Morgan Freeman on the back, to an actress friend of mine. She loved it. Nice surprise for me. Yep, my own worst critic.

As I take another look at pot tonight I smile at the Mod Podge Sparkle used to seal the photo to the terra cotta. See the sparklies? Never ever once thought I would be all about the glue!

Anyway, I use an inkjet to print the photo on regular ol' bought at Wal-mart or the dollar store tissue paper. Nothing fancy. And the subject?

My kitty Noir. When he was a twelve week old kitten, Noir sat (and crawled with me for two hours at a Starbucks. As I tried to talk a co-worker into taking Noir home with her. That was four and a half years ago. Yep, I do think I got the better end of the deal!
Am proud of my little terra cotta pot. Yes, I sincerely am.
Still shock about the 'inner crafty' I did not think I every really had--
In the mean time, gotta find the subject of the photo-
Noir owes me a purr or twelve since I shared him with the world! :)
Stay tuned!

Terra Cotta Pots...Where Were We?

So much has happened, in these last few days. Met with a different university advisor who announced they really couldn't tell me what credits would transfer until I applied and enrolled into their school. I didn't like that. Of course, the advisor was about 23 and telling ME what I should think of my future. My job changes. Same department. Same seat. Different tasks. This happened Tuesday. Champs crowned on both Dancing With the Stars and American Idol. Just fine with those choices. Last night the Dallas Mavericks became Western Conference Champs and headed to the NBA Finals. Nice to have something to cheer about after the Super Bowl fiasco and the current NFL lock out. City is going nuts and I Like IT******So after all this, I took a crafty chum's suggestion to do a little show n' tell on my first completed terra cotta pot:

Treated the 4-inch pot's inside with Thompson's Water Sealant. Primed the outside (should have done the inside too). Folk Arts acrylic blue paint with Folk Arts Gems painted on after the blue dried. The Gems are gorgeous blue 'diamonds'. Compliments the paint in splendid fashion. Got more Mod Podge on me than I smothered the pot with (if that' s even possible! ) Learned lots doing this pot. Kind of hesitant to show y'all because it is not as good as it could be---will be.*****The paw prints were made with one of those hand punches. One toe is missing. I Mod Podge'd it off--by accident. Didn't realize it until the pot was pretty well dried. Decided the gone toe would signify me being born with microtia. I was born missing an ear. In my case, I have just a lobe where my left ear should be. And finally, the snoozin' kitten photo is suppose to be on the fuzzy side. Used colored pencil filter. The big ol' tabby cat out the pot is actually said snoozin' kitten once upon a few years ago.*****The first time. Got it out of the way. Thanks for being patient! *****

Wrap Frap

The furry, yet orangy kitty posted here in my Perry. He's also the kitty in this blog's banner. Together we've been almost 9 years and he'll turn 9 years old on the 4th of July. Firecracker, Perry is, who so loves the remants of my Starbucks Cafe Vanilla Frappucino--just a teeny taste of whipped cream I let him have. At times, I see age creep in him, (just like me) yet Perry purrs, demands my attention and plays with a cat nip laced toy like he's about a 9 month old kitten. Yep, he's my Perry One.

Ya know, I was actually gonna write about the day and thoughts of stuff, like I'd love to have the BP Oil people take a dive in their own oil.

Alas, I digress.

I'll cut it here instead. Perry remains on this desk. Purrs. We've been thru a lot. Perry gave me ringworm when we first met. Ran to me, meows all the way, the first time he saw me after my 3 week hospital stay in 2006, and now. I rub his chin and he nips my hand.

Yep. It's a wrap for today. Gotta go cat cuddle.

I am blessed.

Mother's Day...

My mom died when I was 13. So long ago. We missed growing up together. I regret that. My mom died of complications from an elective surgery. In raw terms, she died from complications from weight loss surgery. Now this was 1971--things were not as they were now. Our family doctor was not for it. Yet, my mom saw the success of her younger sister, plus my 17 year cousin--and wanted to have it done. Mom was like a lot of us women--yo yo'd all her life. My dad didn't want her to have it. Something told me, I didn't want her to have it. Yet, she had her own mind (That's where I get it from) and wentwith the doctor her sister and niece had.

Mom had this surgery in June 1971. On September 27, 1971 she died. Yellow liver aptrophy.

She left a husband and teenage daughter.

For years, I blamed myself. If I would have said something. Yet, she was so happy 'to be thin'.....I was so guilted. Every year, my dad told me, "She was going to do it anyway, honey. Her mind was made up." He knew her death ate at me. So for those years, I hated Mother's Day. I didnt' even want to show my face to anything or anybody on that day. I didn't deserve to be happy.

I eventually did have a step-mother, yet she was not my mom. My dad loved her, and he was happy--that's what mattered.

My strength from God caused me to grow up and move on. Wasn't easy. And it began about decades after my mom died. So it wasn't so quick either--yet was I ready to even listed to God? When he really began to knock on the door? Nope. I turned a deaf ear.

I wonder how my life would've been with her Earthly impact. We would have fought along the way, yet those fights would be laced with love. I have my dreams. My memories. The guilt I felt is gone. The love she had for me is there.

Mother's Day is day I can smile. Sure, I remember her spankings--:) Yet, I remember her introduction for me to A & W onion rings. Mom asked, 'You like onions, right?" So I bit into one--LOVE. Things like that. Words of encouragment. The fact she said I was her 'angel'--I wonder how would have been. Yet, the life had was good.

Happy Mother's Day!