Black is the New Black - The Final Instalment (or is it?)

Jet - Not Just Another Black Cat

What does a person do, when they have room in their heart to love another pet and a free Saturday at their disposal? Our answer? We went to the SPCA to look for a dog. We came home with "Jet" instead. Let's just call him our pup, for lack of a better description.

Jet, our new not-so-little "pup", has turned out to be quite the imposter. He is not only a cat, but he put out a little bit of false advertising when he jumped into my arms at the SPCA five months ago ...

He purred for us and even drooled a bit. Andre had a monster purr we could hear across the room. Jet was not a loud purrer but he purred. That little drop of drool was the clincher. Andre purred so loud and so long that he could not contain his saliva. It was a weird little quirk but one of the many things we grew to love about him.

We thought Jet was going to be a cuddler. It turns out he was just desperate to get out of that cage. He loved us so hard in those moments of freedom and gave us the illusion that he was going to nestle into our lives and provide the snuggles we missed so dearly.

We were told Jet was a year old so we assumed he was full grown. He came into our world a tiny, adult cat and fit perfectly into Andre's old cat harness. That was one of many signs that told us he was "just the right fit" for us. Well, that little adult cat still had some growing to do. He isn't quite as big as our little black panther cat, Ray. But he is close. So much for the petite little cat we assumed we adopted. But that's okay, we just have a few more pounds of him to love.

Our sociable little fur ball must have been so lacking for human companionship that he was over the moon to be skin to fur with another living being. Knowing now, what we didn't know then, I can't imagine how Jet survived in a tiny little pen for twenty days. He can barely survive a weekend without my daycare family, he gets bored so easily.

Yet our little black fraud has become so much more than we ever could imagined during that brief interview at the SPCA.

He has become a best buddy to our cat already in residence. I don't think Ray really minded being an only cat after Andre died. He has a quiet, loving presence and loves to be loved but he is so scared by the world in general. He has lived with us for two and a half years. yet he still jumps at any sudden (or not so sudden) move or noise. Watching the companionship blossom between our two black buddies has been heart warming. Ray came into our lives ready, willing and eager to play with Andre but Andre's kitten days were long over and we now know that his health was already starting to decline. Ray's attempts to play with our ailing cat were met with nips at his ankles. Enter "Jet" our playful little kitten, in a black cat's fur coat and our house is lively and the fur is flying once more.

Jet must have been getting tired of being confused with "who's who" and all the comparisons to his black furred predecessors, because as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he tried to distinguish himself from the others:

"A little dab of white paint on my left paw and ear ought to teach them I am NOT just another black cat!" Jet must have thought as a white paintbrush went flying and our Curious Cat ended up looking quite unique in his new coat of paint.

Little did he realize at the time, he came with his own distinguishing features. No additional paint required. He has three little splotches of white on his left hip, he has a fluffy tail and when the light is right, you can see that he will most likely turn a shade of rusty brown as he ages.

Our "jet black" cat is many shades of black in and of himself, with a few "paint splotches" tossed in for good measure.

He stepped into Andre's role as "Daycare Kitty" like a champ and perhaps he takes it one or two steps further:

Andre

Jet

Andre

Jet

Andre

Jet

Andre

Jet

 Meanwhile, Ray tends to investigate the daycare toys when the kids have gone home for the day ...

... or from a safe vantage point behind a child proof gate.

These guys are not just another black cat. They are unique in their shades of ebony, the way they reflect their lives within our home and hearts and uniqueness that goes far deeper than the color of their fur.

This is the end of my "Black Cat Series" for now. Will it end here or will we perpetuate the trend of choosing another black cat some time in the future? My Youngest commented they felt badly that so many people wouldn't choose a black cat, I can see "black" being their color of choice for any cat they may get in their future. Personally, I just hope these guys have a good, long life with us. I look forward to the years where their fur becomes speckled in grey and their blackness may evolve to brown. I like what our little black cats have brought into our lives. And I've enjoyed having an excuse to bring Andre back into my Cat Tales. Andre, the Original Black Cat. Who knew that little cat who was tossed into our back yard would make such a difference?

Black is the New Black - Our Second Shade of Black

Ray - Our "Back Up Cat" and So Much More - Cat II, in our III Cat Series

When we went "window shopping" for our second cat, it was just supposed to be an excuse to go for a drive out to a town just outside of our city. It was supposed to give us food for thought for another day.

We came home that night and I was sold on the idea of fostering the quiet big, black panther of a cat who was looking for a home. My son was adamant we adopt him. "What if someone else wanted to adopt him after he has become part of our family?" He couldn't bear the thought of falling in love with a cat, only to have him taken away from us. It was an unlikely possibility (we were told that many people won't adopt a black cat), but it was there.

I liked the idea that the vet bills would have been covered, if we had gone the fostering route but time would tell us that my son's route was the best way to go. For all of us.

It seems ironic to me that our skittish big, black panther's signature pose was this:

Who can resist reaching out and loving a cat who shows such trust? Certainly not us! Ray's body language was very deceiving though. He is the most fearful and skittish cat I have ever known.

I would love to know Ray's back story. He must have led a very traumatic life before he found us because he is scared of everything and everybody. I called him our "Scaredy Cat" but I have since realized he is more like a butterfly. Sit still, let him come to you and he will gingerly approach you. Pursue him and he is gone. Like a butterfly.

Ray's gentle nature was endearing to our senior cat, Andre. He approached Andre with respect and reverence. He would hunker his head down and nuzzle into Andre's chest as if to say, "Do you want to play??" Andre's playing days were nearing an end by the time Ray joined us. But we enjoyed the cat tussles while they lasted.

We adopted Ray in the spring and Andre started doctoring in the fall. We weren't quite sure what Andre was fighting but lungs were compromised and we savored each breath he took for the year and a half that followed.

Ray followed Andre's lead, showed us what a gentleman and gentle cat he was and he worked his way deep into our hearts.

Ray is laying on the floor; Andre is gingerly playing with the ear plug Ray snatched from my second son's room. Andre nips at Ray and Ray just backs off and lets him be. What a gentle and respectful cat  he is!

I will always wonder how well cats understand each other. Did Ray know how ill his brother cat really was? Did he know more than we did at that point? No matter what he knew or didn't know, or what Andre was able to communicate to him or not, Ray took it upon himself to endear himself to my son.

When my son returned home from a long day at school, Ray would wait to be invited onto my son's lap, then he would lap up all the love my son had to offer. I sat back and watched the non-verbal communication between the two of them. Ray's tail is the most animated tail I've ever known. He would caress my son's face and chin with his tail as my son petted him. It was a mutual adoration society for two.

It was not a surprise but it was still a shock to our systems when Andre died this year. He was loved and he knew it. We were with him when he took his last labored breaths and it was an honor. He left this world surrounded in love. Our hearts ached and there was a crater in our life where Andre used to be. Ray stepped up to the plate and let us hold and love him in the way we needed to during those dark days. Our skittish, stand offish, not-so-cuddly cat crawled onto my empty lap and helped my heart heal. Maybe he needed us as much as we needed him. It was a very good time to have a "back up cat". But by that time he was so much more. Just as he always has been.

Ray is so sensitive and gentle with us, as we are with him. He knows he is adored and he seems secure in that knowledge even though he still doesn't trust me enough to know I'm not going to hurt him if he is sitting, standing or laying in my way. Our little "broken" cat may always have trust issues but we are certainly not going to make matters worse for him. We just keep loving him in the way he needs to be loved and he reciprocates the feeling.

Andre's last Christmas with us. He snuggled up on my lap, while Ray stood by in the background, ready to take on the role of "Only Cat" when the time came.

Note the shade of black in one of Andre's later pictures. Our first and original black cat changed to a rusty shade of brown/black in his final years. Apparently this is normal but it was the first we had heard of it. 

Ray's healthy shiny, ebony coat of blackness would carry us through one of the saddest periods of our lives. He filled our broken hearts with cat-love and antics which continue to endear him to us more with each passing day.

Andre could never be replaced. We didn't even want to try. Maybe we would get a dog one day, but not a cat. No cat could step into the paw prints Andre left in our hearts.

Stay tuned for the third instalment of our story. Would we get a black dog? Or would Andre's shadow forever remain a lighter shade of blackness within our lives? Is one cat ever enough once you know you have room in your heart for two?

Black is the New Black - Part I

While discussing possible dance costume choices, I remember a dance instructor telling me that the color black is one of the hardest colors to match. He went on to say that people think "black is black" but he said there are so many shades of black that it is nearly impossible to find a perfect match.

I thought of this statement as I marvelled and enjoyed the distinct differences between our three black cats. Not only is/was their hair texture slightly different, the way the light reflects off them is different as well. The tones, the shades, the hues are all quite unique. And that is just their hair.

Their personalities are so very different and uniquely special unto themselves. The one thing I love best about all three of them is their "beta cat" quality. No one pushed hard to be the leader of the pack but each one of them has/had their own personal limits.

It is hard to pick a tense to write in because I am referring to Andre, our "original black cat"; as well as Ray, formerly known as "Junior Cat"; and Jet, basically known as "Jet" who is the newest black cat to pick us as his family.

Andre - Our Original Black Cat - Cat I of a III Cat Series

We noticed the title of the chapter this book is turned to, long after the fact. Recently, we were sorting through and organizing our cat photos when we noticed the caption "To Be Chosen". I was simply taking a picture of our most cuddly black cat, snuggled up on my lap, half covering the page I was reading. He had the most unique way of getting our attention. For him to choose to settle on my lap on that exact page, then for us not to even notice until after he had died, felt like an omen of some sort.

Andre was the original. He set the bar and broke the mold. He wasn't even supposed to be our cat. Some kids threw him into our yard during a lunch break at school and my second son rescued him and tucked him away safely in his room. As my son left to go back to school, he told me there was a cat in his room. "Just leave him until I get back home..." Well, as they say, the rest is history.

I have written so many Andre Tales within the contents of this blog, I suddenly want to go back and read them. His evolution of being the youngest and newest of a three cat family to becoming our "one and only cat". He was our original Daycare Kitty. He was the trail blazer, an adventure seeker and a friend to one and all. His purr was the best purr I've ever heard in my life. You could hear him across a room. It seemed like he delighted himself by making us smile and he performed on so very many different levels for us.

My youngest and I spent so much time loving our little black cat, marvelling at his ways, savoring his love, laughing at his antics and simply watching him at play. Andre followed her to bed so when I popped in to say good night, Andre would become the centre of our conversation and this is quite likely when our daily "Cat Chat" originated.

It was a sad day when I realized Andre wasn't eating much and started to lose weight. I was terrified this was the beginning of the end of his story. Looking back, it quite likely was. But I bought soft cat food, found his favorite brand and flavor and slowly, but surely he regained his appetite so by the time he went for his annual vet visit, he was almost back at the weight from the previous year.

I never quite recovered from the scare and I knew how devastated my youngest (not to mention myself) would be if "anything ever happened" to Andre. So after Andre seemed to be doing much better and eating well again, we went cat shopping. I wasn't ready to commit but I thought we could look into the idea of fostering a cat. And that is the beginning of Ray's story and how his original title, only known to me at the time, was that of a "back up cat".

All we knew for sure when we went looking for cats was that we wanted a male cat. There were only two male cats at the time and one of them was a definite "Alpha" male, so that immediately put him out of the running. Our quiet and respectful Beta cat at home would surely shrivel up and die if some Alpha male walked in and took over. So our attention was drawn to the only other male available. We heard his story and how docile he was among the other cats. Despite the fact that he was one stinky mess (he had a case of diarrhea that resulted in an "accident" of the smelly kind, enroute to this Alley Cat Open House), we went for a drive to think on it. Like I said before, the rest is history.

This picture, with Ray showing his "trusting side" while Andre looks on from a distance makes me think of the present. Ray is still here, trusting us to look out for his best interests even after his original black buddy is gone but still very present in our hearts and memories.

My story does not end here but my window of time has closed and I must go put in a day's work. I will continue on with our Cat Saga - "Black is the New Black  - Part II" tomorrow.

To be continued...

This, That and the Other

I'm sitting here wasting valuable time as I try to slow my thoughts down to settle on one topic and write.

Do I write about our cats who continue to amuse and entertain me? I woke up this morning to find both cats snoozing on my bed with me. This is our new normal. They love our new room and our king sized bed. There is ample room for everyone, with room left over. I have become quite adept at making a bed with two cats still sleeping on it.

Or should I write about the success rate of my on-line auction again? All but five (out of a total of twenty nine) items sold and all but three of those items have been picked up. Our net profit after all is said and done will be $124.75 (the original total is a work in progress as actual selling prices may slightly vary as I go along). Not too bad for a day of shuffling the contents of three closets. I would have earned $136.00 if I had gone to work for that day, so it was a day well spent on all counts.

But I could write about my zero tolerance for keeping-that-which-we-don't-need any more. I bought a used playpen this week and it came with extra accessories I will never use (a bassinet you can clip on and a change table to attach to the side of the playpen). I berated myself for even taking them home with me but I did. I tried hiding them in a closet but they didn't fit. They were huge and cumbersome and took up a great deal of space. So I put them on top of the piano. They were the first thing I saw when we went downstairs to play yesterday. So I immediately listed them for "FREE" on Kijiji. They were spoken for and picked up, two and a half hours later.

There is a lightness within me these days which is coming from opening the closed doors within this house of ours and purging. It gets easier as I go along.

I mentioned to my son that I made almost as much by staying home and selling our "excess" last weekend, than I would have made if I would have worked. That seemed pretty good to me and I wondered if I could consider staying home and selling our belongings in lieu of that extra job. He is so logical minded. He stated the obvious. "We'd soon run out of things to sell", and he popped my little bubble.

I still have a long way to go before my work here is done. Once I get through the items which I can sell or give away, there comes the paperwork. There is a lot of that. Mom sent me a bag of papers to shred, along with thirty six years of Dad's income tax history. I finally finished up her shredding (though I had to buy a new paper shredder to finish the job because mine finally quit for good) and I don't want to get rid of anything within those chocolate boxes (where Dad stored all his notes, papers and receipts) until I dig a little deeper to see what treasures may be hidden within. Probably not much but I cannot dispose of Dad's hard work that easily. There is the story of his life filed within those papers and I don't want to miss a page.

It is Friday. It was a week well spent. Now I just have to tie up the loose ends of my auction and brace myself for my Saturday work day. Maybe I can get a little of that painting (finally?!) done on Sunday. I don't think that job pays well though. ** This just in! Our new blinds have arrived and will be installed on Monday - there is my excuse to get those window casings painted. And while the paint brush is dirty, who knows where else it may travel? **

Gotta run and get ready for my day. Have a great weekend!! Do what you've gotta do, to make the most of it!

P.S. Since I moved into my new bedroom "suite" nineteen days ago,I have worn out five socks. Is the extra mileage I'm putting on in my day, from going up and down the stairs really putting that much wear and tear on my socks? And if it is, I must accidentally be getting myself into better shape at the same time. There are hidden blessings every which way I turn. Life feels good.

The Next Smartest Thing

Just a few days ago, I wrote of my new lease on life since the TV moved out of the living room. There is a "part two" to that story that is still unfolding as I type but if I write it down, I may do my part to keep a good thing going.

I am trying to break the habit of using the TV in my room as a sleeping pill. I know exactly when, how and why this habit started. Turning on the TV and tuning into something that holds my attention turns off my own thoughts. The moment I stop thinking, I fall asleep. Thus, my habit began. They say sleeping pills are addictive. From my own personal experience, I wonder if any sleeping aid becomes something you begin to rely on and even look forward to is just as powerful as a drug.

Yes, I have come to look forward to those middle of the night soirées with just me and my TV. During the years where I fell asleep the moment I sat still, I would wake up with great excitement thinking "Now, I can actually watch a whole TV show!!". I would turn on the television, find something that interested me and poof! Sometime during or after the opening credits to said show, I was fast asleep.

I thought I should probably try to break my little habit but wondered, "Why?" It isn't hurting anyone and I love these mini TV marathons I try to run in the middle of the night.

It is only recently that I have admitted I have a problem. The problem began when I started turning on the TV just before my alarm went off. "I'll just stay in bed until 'Leave it to Bryan' is over" I would tell myself. Then the time changed and "Leave it to Bryan" became "Marriage Under Construction" and I got to know that cast of characters and wanted to know how their construction projects ended. The only thing is, I never ever really got to watch any of these shows because I fell fast asleep the moment I became interested. The only thing that could wake me from that deep slumber was Mike Holmes (I just don't like his 'tone' - it wakes me up).

It was becoming harder and harder to climb out of bed in the morning (partially due to the fact that Mike Holmes was delayed by another hour which would make me seriously late in waking up) and my ache to wake up to the TV instead of the alarm pushed me to the breaking point. I actually set the "wake" timer on the TV. It was the dumbest and the smartest move I've made in recent history.

I hated waking up to the TV. It is my sedative, not my wake up call. So I cancelled that timer but some little bell rang in my head. I started wondering what my nights and mornings would be like with the TV turned off. It turns out they are kind of wonderful.

I still wake up in the middle of the night but I can't even recall how long I am awake because the next thing I know, I'm fast asleep. I wake up before my alarm goes off and just lie still with my thoughts. I started to realize that maybe the reason I have been waking up on "empty" is because I have invited television to steal my ability to think. I turn it on and I tune my thoughts out, thus I wake up feeling dull and brainless.

I have had five televisionless nights and mornings now. The combination of moving the TV out of the living room, added to the blackout during my sleeping and waking hours has been a life changer. My thoughts are clearer, I can remember more than two things at once, I can multitask again, words are coming to the tip of my tongue quicker and I feel more energized.

I just now realized I have thought these thoughts before. And thanks to the magic of journalling my every thought, I can tell you the exact day I had this very epiphany. September 15, 2008. I wrote this: http://colleen-lifeasiknowit.blogspot.ca/2008/09/life-in-slow-lane.html

I have also found the exact date when my downward spiral to my TV addiction taking over my life and thoughts began. It was May 3, 2011: http://colleen-lifeasiknowit.blogspot.ca/2011/05/it-all-started-with-spare-tv.html

I wrote it here first. I know when it happened. I now know what I realized seven years ago. "I knew my life was better without 'TV' in it. I just didn't realize how much." (originally written September 15, 2008)

I think the tides have turned. The first step to to addiction is admitting you have a problem: "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol television — that our lives had become unmanageable." ~ paraphrased from Alcohols Anonymous 12 Step Program

The knowledge was within me all along. I just had to turn off the TV to find it again.

"When in doubt, look within for the answer. You're more powerful than you think."

Read more at http://www.beliefnet.com/Entertainment/Movies/2009/10/Wizard-of-Oz.aspx?p=6#86uScJ3OSIIqE2UT.99

Oh, What a Day!

I'll start yesterday at the end and move backwards. It was just "that kind of day". In a good way, of course!

When I finally hit the point in my day where I was ready to call it a night, I looked over and this is the sight my weary eyes had to behold.

Yes, if you squint and look closely, the time is 12:11 a.m. 

And yes, that is an anomaly in my world. Just ask our cats. I am usually waking up for the first time at that time, not just laying my head down on the pillow. So, grateful for our king sized bed, I climbed into the last third of the bed which was left available to me and laid my weary little head down to recoup from the day.

I spent the evening dealing with the end of my on-line auction. I listed twenty nine items on the auction and twenty four of those items sold. Our net gain after cleaning out our closets and ridding ourselves of the excess was $123.75. That averaged just over $5.00 per item sold. Not too shabby for a day of housecleaning and listing items for sale. Then an evening dealing with the administrative end of arranging pick-up times with twenty three different people (one person bought two items). The biggest reward though, is the feeling I get when I walk into a room knowing the closets are not full to overflowing with items we don't use. That is the most satisfying part of all (although my portion of our "take" does cover the daycare spending investing I did this past weekend, so that is pretty good too). 

That was my evening. The day was an even better investment of my time and efforts.

We had a "trial run day" with a potential new daycare daughter. It was busy, labor intensive and I was on high alert all day as I watched over my charges. By the day's end, the day felt like a success. She fit in with our family, she napped very well (that's a very good quality to have!) and I think she was starting to figure me out as the day went along. So if all goes as I expect (and hope), she will start in January. This is not only good for my budget but it feels very right for our daycare dynamic. I think we need to keep the girl to boy ratio evened out and I was desperately seeking a new friend for my little not-quite-three-year-old girl. Another "win" for the day.

And one other thing I snuck into the day, was making home made chicken soup for supper. The aroma of home made chicken soup made me feel like a superhero. I provided healthy nourishment (and a favorite meal) for my son and the bonus prize is that today's lunch is also taken care of. 

Then, after all was said and done (my timeline is really getting messed up now), there was a bunch of new fallen snow to contend with. Thankfully the winning combination of the first snowfall of the season + a good, healthy supper + completed homework + a little dose of mother guilt (don't you want to help me after I helped you earn $35.50 for the stuff you cleaned out of your closets? = a willing and able snow shovelling assistant. By 10:00 p.m., the snow was cleared and my day was almost done.

A little more auction administration awaited me when I got back inside, then I tagged, labelled and sorted through our pile of excess so it is ready to walk out the door as our buyers arrive.

This is the view as I opened the door on a brand new day. Winter has arrived. I knew it had to happen one day and a month before Christmas Eve is as good a day as any.

Now that my house decluttering project is at a manageable level maybe I can spend a little of my excess energy on "Christmas". Maybe...

The Smartest Move I've Made

It is hard to believe that my downward spiral into my time of great laziness and despair could be correlated to the time period when we moved a TV into the living room but I'm beginning to wonder.

As my memory flashes back in time, I remember my pre-television-in-the-living-room days and during the most challenging of times, my coping mechanisms turned to activity. Whether it was painting the fence or cleaning or becoming wrapped up in Zumba and fitness, I moved when life got me down instead of sitting still.

Oh, how obvious it seems to me now. There were several times when I thought I should move the TV out of the living room but I enjoyed it so very much. I didn't have a plan or an excuse or any reason whatsoever to move the TV, so there it stayed.

I could tell how a day off was going to go simply by leaving the TV off or turning it on. Tuning into TV helped me tune out of my life. It became my sedative, my best friend, my excuse to sit down and eat a box of chips and my old stand by. It stole my energy, my drive, my dream state and my enthusiasm. It gave very little in return.

Instead of realizing this while I was in the middle of this state, I became more addicted. I tuned into Netflix, TV on Demand and I PVR'd myself into oblivion. It felt like a drug. The more I watched, the more I wanted to watch, even when I wasn't really in the mood to watch. I turned on the TV because it was a habit and I may have lost some of the best years of my life.

I didn't have to work this past weekend. I didn't really see this time off coming but I did get one day's notice to the possibility and I was told I would get a call the next day to confirm our lack of work plans. That was reason enough not to make any other plans because my work schedule could change in a moment. I knew the "correct answer" was to offer to work on Sunday but I couldn't say the words out loud. I thought I could offer when she called back. I didn't receive a call. So I ended up with an almost accidental weekend without enough warning to fill my days with other things.

But fill my days is exactly what I did.

I felt like I was on the way to wasting my Saturday when I got immersed in checking into Kijiji ads and wound up buying a toy workbench and tools for the kids. Then I wound up at Value Village (dropping off a donation -  YAY me!!) and came home with a few more daycare toys. I came home and scrubbed used toys and wondered what in the world I was doing. I was moving out the excess but moving just as much back in!

I ended up going over to a friend's for coffee and my youngest offered to set up our new/old computer if I moved whatever had to be moved, to set it up in its permanent location. My job took all of a minute to accomplish and when I came home a renewed "vision" of our daycare TV/computer/quiet room was so much clearer.

I woke up with this vision still clear in my mind but exhaustion wanted to settle in. "I'll just wash my sheets" is how my morning started. I finished shuffling the contents of three closets around and placed thirty five ads to sell &/or give away various items which have been hiding within those very closets. I'm making money by cleaning!

My little in-house reshuffling event has cost absolutely nothing and has energized me in a way I haven't been energized in a very long time. I still long for the day where I have a mini television marathon but it isn't going to be today.

Moving the TV out of the living room was the smartest move I've made in a very long time. It's good for me, it's good for my daycare family and it is very good for our house and those who reside within. I think the cats miss me hanging out in the living room and the "cat chats" my youngest and I used to have with them as the centre of attention. But they have found their ways to be noticed...

Jet, in the new work bench I bought

Jet investigating the donation pile

Ray, rather disturbed that I was disturbing his rest in "his" new room

Ray, making the best of the tired old sleeping bag which is making its way out of our home.