A True Celebration

The Rooftop Kitties turned a year old on November 2. While I was peacefully sleeping, they were up to no good. True mischiefmakers these three are. They discovered a closet where I had stashed some shredded papers. They dragged the bag out into the cat room and decided to party their little hearts out! In the morning when I woke up, I was met with such a mess. They did their best, not to look guilty, but it was pretty obvious who did it. Even when Addie showed up to investigate, it was clear to me that she had no knowledge of what they had done.

Not to be out done by her sisters, a few days later Flash pushed open the screen door and got outside! I was out in the front yard, throwing away some trash. I turned around, and I saw her and my heart just stuck in my throat. It was becoming dark. I knew if she darted underneath my truck, or headed for the highway. There was nothing I could do. I am not moving very fast these days. However, I am no longer bound to the walker.

I called her very gently, but she was scared to death. So much traffic on the highway that night. Thank the good Lord, she kept hugging the house and running from the back gate up to the front door. She never deviated from the route. I could tell she was terrified. I knew I couldn’t chase her. That would just make her stop her path and find a safer one. I set myself up by the stairs in the front by the door. When she passed me and ran up the stairs, I leaned over and scooped her up. I hugged her very tightly and I talked to her. I had her scruffed while supporting her rear. I just kept hugging her and talking to her waiting for the traffic to stop so that I could get up the steps safely and get her into the house.

I have no idea why she didn’t scratch or bite me. I could feel her tighten every time a truck or car roared past. She was trembling as was I. I finally got her into the house and apologize to her for not shutting the front door properly. That will never happen again. Now she won’t even go near the front door. Not that I blame her. It was a weekend when this happened and the traffic was definitely not light.  That situation took three years of my life. Not sure how many lives she lost during that time out of her nine.

Never a dull moment.

On a good note, I have been discharged from both physical therapy and occupational therapy. I wish I could report that I have full use of my right hand. However, that’s not the case. They told me at my last visit that it will probably take an additional six months to a year before my right hand will be hopefully restored. It was mentioned that when I signed all the paperwork before the surgery, I assumed all the risks and complications that might happen. This sort of tells me that they realize they did something wrong, but they aren’t owning up to it. But, all I want is just to keep working on my hand by myself. Trying to get to the point where I can actually write cursive legibly. I can print now. However, if I start to write something that is over a page long. My hand starts burning so badly. I have to drop the pen and just walk away. I also have trouble reading what I’ve written because it still looks very elementary. Not at all like my beautiful handwriting I had before the surgery.