Baby developed a sore on her chin in Ohio. Despite meticulous cleansing with peroxide and compresses, it gradually developed into an abscess. I took her to a veterinarian in Gulf Shores (the taxi ride was a whole adventure in itself), who diagnosed oral cancer (and abscess) and, given the probable diabetes and kidney failure at her age, strongly suggested euthanasia. I weighed the decision and decided to treat the abscess. One massive injection of antibiotic and within 12 hours the odor of abscess was diminished, within 24 hours the swelling was nearly gone, and by 48 hours there was no discharge. There is a tumor in her jaw, but she is still eating well and enjoying life. I think (I hope) I did the right thing.
I left Gulf Shores Tuesday in pouring rain. I spent 90 minutes and $300 at WalMart stocking up on pet food (48 cans of cat food for Baby alone) and groceries. It rained the whole 260 miles. We pulled into a rest stop on I-10 and when I got back behind the wheel, the Goose would not start or jump start off the generator. I ran the generator while I ate lunch and checked email. I went back into the rest stop to get my exact location, preparing to call AAA or Good Sam Roadside Assistance. When I tried the Goose one more time, it started without hesitation.
With the shopping trip and starter delays, I got into the park after dark. By the time I got set up and fed and walked Gracie, there was no time to even check out the location. Wednesday it rained all day, and we walked just a short distance between cloud bursts. Today was beautiful and we explored down the beach at low tide and walked for miles. The scenery is amazing. We are parked steps from the sea wall. There’s a pier out into the water and lawn chairs at the end of the pier to pause and take in the view. It’s a very small park, maybe 50 spaces, and it’s the first adult-only park I’ve been in; very peaceful.
At low tide in the morning, there’s an extensive expanse of beach, maybe a couple hundred feet, where there was ocean the night before. There are little tide pools teeming with waterlife, and there are shells everywhere, especially when it rained the night before. The birds flock and swoop, feeding on the various things that washed up, dead and alive. I am so intrigued by the shells and birds I ordered guides online. I think the big helmet-like shells were blue crabs. I recognize brown pelicans and sea gulls, but that’s only a small percentage of the birds.
At high tide there’s not a lot of beach. The palmettos, pine trees, and impenetrable brush and vines grow to within a few yards of the water. There’s mounds of bug-infested, stinking sea weed along the edge of the woods, which seems to fascinate Gracie. Butterflies, especially vibrant orange and black monarchs, flit fearlessly in front of us. The proximity of pine cones and butterflies to seagulls and ocean, is surreal.
There’s Christmas dinner in the park tomorrow. I am making pasta salad. I bought Gracie a huge chew roll and me a nice calendar for Christmas, and I got the DVD of The Help to curl up and watch Christmas Day. I got the turkey tenders I liked so much at Thanksgiving and a wrapped sweet potato for Christmas dinner. I’m looking forward to a wonderful holiday.
This “not working for a living” is new to me. I had my first real job at 15, working for a veterinarian ($1.16 an hour), and have worked steadily since. I have never taken a vacation as an adult. (There was a trip to Niagara Falls with my first in-laws. There are many names I could have given that trip, but “vacation” would not be one of them.)
For the last 40 years I suppressed my interests because I was too tired, broke, or guilty because I should be studying or investing time in my children or partner. Now I have leisure and means to do whatever I want, if only I could figure out what that might be.
I discovered I like movies. I haven’t watched movies regularly in decades, so they are all new to me. I bought a few at a swap meet in Ohio for a couple dollars each and added a few every WalMart bargain bin I walked past. I have been watching Jack Nicholson’s hair line recede, and George Clooney’s go gray.
I have always loved to read, and I indulge that passion with my Kindle. I like biographies and true stories. Dick Cheney’s “In My Time” was interesting. I just finished Dianne Keaton’s “Then Again.” It was very good. Tina Fey’s “Bossy Pants” was good. Ellen DeGeneres “Seriously . . .I’m Kidding” was disappointing. Mitch Albom’s “Have a Little Faith” was so good and well-written I cried and laughed aloud. I just downloaded “We Bought a Zoo.”
Music is back in my life. My sister (I decided to drop the “in-law” ) Julie showed me how to download tunes and burn my own CDs. My tastes are really eclectic, from “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf to Kid Rock’s “Born Free” to “This Land Is Your Land” by Sharon Jones and the Dapp Kings. No sappy love songs in all I’ve downloaded, all freedom and fun.
I do Sudoku puzzles while I watch television to help keep my brain sharp. That’s my excuse, anyway. . .
It amuses me that I establish rituals, no matter where we are. In Ohio Gracie and I walked to the mini-mart every morning for lottery tickets. Here I take a cup of coffee to the park across the street every morning and Gracie and I watch the waves in the lagoon.
I’m still convincing myself I don’t have to be “doing” anything, I don’t have to have every minute of every day planned and packed full. In her book “Living Without Reservations,” (which, incidentally, planted the seed for this journey) Barbara Singer says it’s about slowing down enough to let the universe do its thing. I’m still learning to do that.
How do I describe the accent in Alabama? It’s not really a southern drawl, but it is a very distinctive dialect that places the accent on the first syllable of some words. I will never say ‘De-cember’,’ ce-ment’, and ‘po-lice’ the same way again. Sentences end on an uptone, like a question. Vowels are nasal. Even the local news anchors sound “down home.”
The illegal immigrant debate here is interesting. The locals want the governor to back down on recently enacted strict laws on illegal immigrants. The farmers are afraid there won’t be enough field help. The governor vowed that only legal immigrants will be able to work in this fine state, then promised he will address the restriction on obtaining drivers licenses and renting living quarters without documentation.
Football trumps every other concern. “Go Auburn” and “Crimson Tide” banners and flags adorn every car and truck. Even President Obama on 60 Minutes was a no show—there was a football game on here.
Used car dealers, dentists, mattress stores and other commercial enterprises make pitches in print ads and on television for residents’ “BP money,.” trying to make the case that a better car, nice smile, or good night’s sleep is a deserved investment in oneself after the trauma of the oil disaster.
There’s no state lottery in Alabama. I miss my crossword scratchers.
I thought people in Arizona were the only fools who tried to cultivate lawns where Mother Nature never intended grass to grow. Wrong. White ankle-deep sand here, and people try to grow grass on it. Good thing the grass doesn’t grow well—a lawn mower would sink in the sand.
I wonder who thought ‘Piggly Wiggly’ was a good name for a grocery store?
There are Christmas decorations on and around almost all the RVs in the park. Not mine. Some of them are pretty tacky—I could have lived without seeing a lighted Christmas wreath around the neck of a pink plastic flamingo. Lots of little sparkly Christmas trees in the front windows of motorhomes. Most of the folks are here until April, and they really settle in with wooden steps, lawn furniture, and signs in the “yard.” I’m ready to leave. A month was too long to stay here. Gracie is ready to go, too. Another ten days . . . .
Baby is not an affectionate cat. I have had her since 1995, and she was perhaps two or three years old when she came to live with me. I have at least three scars from her bites over the years, and countless healed scratches from her back feet (front were declawed when I got her). One night shortly after we left Arizona I reached out during the night to pet her and she was morbidly cold. I stuffed her under the covers, expecting her to protest, or at least try to free her head above the covers. Her reaction was unexpected.
I sleep in the fetal position. Baby readily burrowed into the cove between my padded thighs and droopy boobs and curled her boney bottom against my soft stomach. She has slept that way every night since, completely submerged below the covers, vibrating gently (she doesn’t really purr, just vibrates) and radiating warmth. She leaves her burrow a couple times during the night to eat, drink water or use the litter box, by sliding her body up mine and slipping out between the sheets. My suggestion that all three functions could be accomplished in one trip is met by a disdainful glare. She returns dripping water from her chin, smelling of cat food, or shaking the litter from her paws and pats my cheek to regain admission to her cave. I lift my arm and she slides back between the sheets.
This is not an ideal situation. Kitty litter gets caught in the long hair on her paws, so I have to sweep the sheets every night. Baby smells really awful. At age 19 or so, she isn’t diligent about grooming and she smells like a sour washcloth. I try to keep her combed, and bathe her occasionally, but the odor returns quickly. Her breath smells fruity. She’s so thin her skeleton shows through her long hair, so I suspect she may be diabetic.
I struggle with the decision to have her euthanized. When I realized she had few teeth left, I started feeding her canned food. She eats well several times a day and enjoys soft treats and occasional bites of my dinner, even though she continues to lose weight. She uses the litter box regularly. She curls up and sleeps in the sun most of the day. Her last veterinary appointment in August (when she bit the veterinarian, an assistant, and me), the vet proclaimed her basically healthy, although her kidneys are apparently shriveled. She does not seem to be in pain, so I keep postponing the decision.
I am thankful for having her company for so many years, but I do not want to extend her life for my benefit if her quality of life is compromised. Sigh . . . .
