Sannnn Franciscooo

So I haven’t updated because I’ve had the Swine Cold. It’s like the Swine Flu, but not. So I took my Swine Cold germs to San Fran to see my good friend Rachel and her better half. I had a lot of fun, but alas, my digital camera is out of business. ATTENTION SANTA.

Anyways, they took me to the coolest bar. It’s called the Carnelian Room. Sadly, it’s closing on New Years Day- but it had the best view. Enter, camera phone. Not as good as my digital camera, but whatever.

Pretty View

See Alcatraz? See? See???

See the Golden Gate Bridge?? Cool huh?

I love California. Love Love Love it. I also love their wine. And my friend Rachel!

Watch it, Bob….

So my friend sent me this.  Some people are gross.

Goldfish ends up as food after fight over jewelry

A Pasadena woman angered when her former common-law husband took back jewelry he’d given her returned the gesture, police said, taking goldfish from his apartment —  then ate them.

The two had argued over jewelry he had given her but then took back, Pasadena Police Department spokesman Vance Mitchell said. When the man refused to return the jewelry, she took seven goldfish from his west Pasadena home in the 1100 block of Queens Road to her apartment, Mitchell said. The man called police.

Officers went to the woman’s home to see if they could retrieve the fish.

“She said, ‘They’re in there,’ and pointed to the kitchen,” Mitchell said.

Finding a plate with four fried fish, officers asked where the others were. The woman answered, “I already ate those,” Mitchell said.

Because the fish were bought when the couple lived together, they were considered community property, he said.

“There was nothing we could do,” Mitchell said. “If he wants to pursue it, it’s a civil case.”

Time

So it’s been a week and a half since Henry died, and to be honest I’m still really sad about it. I feel like talking about it to people makes me feel better, in a sense, because I get to share the memory of him with other people. At the same time, I’m sure some of my friends/co-workers are starting to wonder when “the weirdo girl is going to stop talking about her dead cat.”

I still blame myself. Everyday. The what if’s could go on and on forever. What if I hadn’t gone to SMF’s house everyday the week before he died to watch the US Open? What if I had been home with Henry instead? Would I have known he was sick? What if I had taken him to the vet the very morning I knew something was wrong, instead of waiting until lunch? What if I had just paid X amount of money, let the vet turn him into a girl (basically), and kept him alive? What if I had let them re-cath him one last time, to see if it would work? The truth is I’ll never know. I’ll never know if what I did or didn’t do had any affect on the outcome. And I know that most of you reading this are probably thinking, “Really Nutcase? It’s a cat. Run on down to the animal shelter and get yourself another one.” BUT HE WASN’T JUST A CAT TO ME DAMMIT!

He was my family. My makeshift, screwed up family that inhabits my 700 square foot apartment. My family that sheds, and steps on my face at 3am, and caterwauls at 5am when they want to be fed. They have become such an integral part of my life that Henry’s passing has been much more of a ‘perspective tragedy’ than one that I just can’t understand. The value of the people (and pets) in my life have taken on a whole new value since Henry died- meaning, I’ve put things in perspective.

I recently read an article on the internet about pets dying and feeling guilty about what you could have/would have/should have done to keep it from happening. The man said “the foundation of our relationships with our pets are based on forgiveness. They forgive you for not coming home and feeding them on time, for shooing them away off your lap, for not spending enough time with them. You forgive them for chewing up things, scratching the furniture, and doing things they shouldn’t. Therefore, we shouldn’t FEEL guilty for our pet’s death- instead we should know that they have forgiven us because they always have.”

I think about him everyday. Several times a day. I still watch his video everyday. And I hope, HOPE, that he has forgiven me. Unfortunately, it’s going to take more time before I can forgive myself.

Instead of “Dancing with the Boobs” I think I’ll call it “Dancing with the Moobs.”

Because I’m pretty sure I saw tons of man boobs last night on DWTB. And I haven’t finished watching it because I really really wanted to finish this book that I’ve been reading for the past month (lame) but I PROMISE to watch it soon. They had a man-only night last night, followed by the ladies tonight, and the kick-off show Wednesday. Thankfully church softball was cancelled so I can watch the ladies tonight! I’m sure SMF will be so excited. Not.

In other news- my dad and step mom went to the taping of the Letterman show yesterday. Way cool! I dvr’d that too- and I hope that I can see them. I want to go to a taping of Dancing with the Boobs. I bet I’d have to ‘know’ someone……and I don’t ‘know’ anyone. DO YOU KNOW SOMEONE WHO CAN GET ME TICKETS???? PRETTY PLEASE?????????

On to happier things…..

Tonight is the season premier of Dancing with the Stars, and I’M SO FREAKING EXCITED! I’ll be sure and fill you in on the details tomorrow. Until then, a friend of mine took this picture of Henry on my birthday, and I just found it this morning:

Henry the lover.

Henry. 4/14/06-9/16/09

This is by far the hardest post I have ever had to write. My kitty, Henry, passed away on September 16, 2009 due to complications related to Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease. He lived a great life. He was the sweetest cat I have ever owned (and I’ve owned a lot!) He was just the perfect pet.

“I believe that God uses pets to help humans learn about love. From pets, we learn mercy, compassion, patience, and understanding — and we also learn what it means to receive unconditional love.”-Moira Anderson Allen, M.Ed.

Henry loved me unconditionally. He loved the dog unconditionally. He loved everyone. I loved him, and I will miss him terribly. His little body just ran out of fuel here on earth- and I just didn’t want him to hurt anymore. So I told him that I loved him, that I was sorry, and that I just wanted him to feel better. I know he’s in heaven with all of my other furry friends. R.I.P. little man.

Henry on the left, enjoying his favorite pasttime- kitty t.v..

He loved to pose for the camera!

Loving on SMF.

Lovin' Life.

The Patient: UPDATE

I went to visit the baby today at lunch. He started purring immediately when he saw me. He’s so sweet.

The Patient. Poor bebe.

The Patient.

I know I’ve talked a TON about my pets on this here blog, so I know most of you are familiar with my wee bebe kitty named Henry. He’s actually not even a baby, but he sort of inherited the name “Baby Henry” when I got him because, well, he was the baby of the animal farm I like to call “Home.”

Henry has always, ALWAYS been the sweetest cat. Actually, he acts more like a dog. He’s “the good one.” Do you know what I mean? Never into trouble. Never acts like a jackass as pees on things. Always up for a cuddle or a snuggle or a nap. He’s basically as close to perfect and lovable as kitty cats get.

Yesterday morning I woke up at 5am to the WORST. CAT FIGHT. IN. AMERICA. I was somewhat thinking  SHUT THE HELL UP as I stumbled out of bed. I saw Henry limping toward me. So I picked him up and put him in bed with me, to keep him away from my other cat (the one SMF refers to as “the Jaguar”). And things were fine. I went back to sleep. Henry cuddled. I got up for work, walked the dog, etc etc etc. And I left for the day.

Around lunch I went home, and there was Henry, laying on the floor, BARELY BREATHING. AND AS GOD AS MY WITNESS I NEARLY LOST MY SHIT right there in my apartment. Because it’s pretty obvious that the moment you are about to lose something/one close to you is the moment you realize just how much you love them. I rushed his furry ass to the vet, crying the entire way. And the poor thing was on his death bed. And I really had no idea what was happening or that he was even sick before that day.

But ironically- my other cat must have known. The vet told me that other cats “pick” on sick cats instinctually. So Tucker must have picked the fight that morning because he knew Henry wasn’t feeling well. I can only imagine the exchange went something like this:

Tucker: Hi Henry. Let’s play.

Henry: Dude. My penis is about to fall off. I can’t.

Tucker: PLAY WITH ME.

Henry: WTF? LEAVE ME ALONE.

And it went on from there. So it turns out Henry has the same thing Tucker has, Lower Feline Urinary Tract Disease. The vet told me that I probably got him neutered to soon, causing some kind of urethra deformity (whatever that means). So Henry is now eating away at whatever savings/credit I had at the Emergency vet, at least until tomorrow. I love that little furball enough to spend a ton of coin on him- but I’m just not sure where to draw the line.

I feel like I can’t be the only pet owner to ever feel this way. It’s so frustrating when you really really really want to do the right thing for your pet, and all the vet can say is “pay X amount or your cat will die. sorry.” It’s just so hard. Henry may just be a cat to some people, but he’s a lot like a kid to me, and I love him so much. I’m hoping my little patient gets to feeling better soon.

I'm Henry. My woo hoo hurts.

Henry, doing what he does best- cuddling.

Happiness is lint rolling yourself before you get out of your car at work…..

So mutt is back, and let me just say that I totally forgot how much that bastard dog sheds. He is WORSE THAN ANY ANIMAL ON THE PLANET. And I know you’re all, No No Ashley, my dog sheds bad too. But trust me here dude, this dog sheds like nothing you’ve ever seen.

Mutt and I have been enjoying lots of outdoor time together, and it’s almost like having a friend to chill with 24/7. I love that dog more than than most humans (besides  a select few) because HE LOVES ME more than ANY HUMAN EVER! That’s not the only reason, but that unconditional love thing goes a loooooooooooong way in my book!

Mutt, examining his prey, Henry.

I love Zilker Park. So does Mutt. We've been going around 8 pm and hanging out in the new grass. Awesome.

Mutt's new bed. Hopefully he'll get one night's use before the cat pisses on it.

Duck. Duck. GOOSE.

YOU HAVE TO READ THIS!: http://www.sperel.com/