Picasso Is Home

by Leslie

We picked her up Monday night. And we’ve been doing a lot of this.

Picasso and Dave

And this.

Picasso at home

(Please ignore my bedhead. Showering isn’t a priority when you get your should-be-dead cat back.)

And it’s doing some good, I think, because she’s now drinking on her own and eating with help. This morning, she rolled on her back to let Dave rub her tummy. Later, she played with Lucy and explored the house a bit, despite her coordination and balance issues.

She’s timid and tired, but she’s still Picasso. I am so grateful.

A Picasso Update

by Leslie

Picasso didn’t come home today, so I went to see her. She’s in a critical care hospital, which meant I had to wait more than an hour to see her for about five minutes. But it was worth it.

Picasso in the hospital

I think she looks pretty good, all things considered.

She has a broken jaw, which is what she needs surgery to fix. Her vitals are stable and she is now breathing on her own, but she’s still very swollen. And though her x-rays show that her skull, spine, neck - pretty much everything except her jaw - are in tact, she’s having some trouble coorindating her movements due to pressure on her nerves from the swelling. The vet needs to see her controlled movement return before he’ll perform the surgery.

She moved plenty when she saw me, though! As soon as she heard my voice, her head popped up and she scrambled to her feet and flopped toward me. She pushed her head against my hand, like she always does when she wants me to pet her MORE! and HARDER! And she purred and purred and purred.

She’s going to be okay. It’s just going to take a little longer than we thought.

Blessed

by Leslie

Today, my kitty Picasso was hit by a car.

Picadoodle

And I’ve never felt so lucky.

Me and my kitty

I’m lucky because Dave got up extra early this morning and rewrote the plans we’d made the night before and went to town to get us breakfast. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have found her on the road on the way back home.

My family

I’m lucky to have held enough sick, injured and dying animals - I mean, if I hadn’t dealt with Max losing his tail, I may not have been able to pick her bloody body up off the road without hesitation or fear so we could get right to the business of saving her life.

Content Kitty

I’m lucky because my parents were there to assure me that dad had the kids and mom was taking the cat to the vet so I could go teach Kindermusik.

Lucy and Picasso

I’m lucky because by the time I got the estimate for her surgery, I had enough money sitting in my account to cover the bill when I didn’t yesterday.

Little Picasso

I’m lucky because tomorrow my kitty will come home. Alive.

Picasso Kitten

The Nap Warden

by Leslie

Nap Warden

you can wake the kid
if you can get past the cat
defender of sleep

Kitty in the Cupboard

looking for a snack
and I found a cat instead
perfect deterrent

Kitty in the Tree

not sure what it is
that lures her out of the warmth
and into the tree

Nap Buddies

by Leslie

Lucy and Katie

the cat is hinting
that it’s time for the kid’s nap
and so are her eyes

15 Minutes

by Leslie

Yesterday, I was permitted to take Julia home right after the Veteran’s Day program at her school. It was only about fifteen minutes ahead of her usual release time, but it felt like so much more. Life is sweeter when you take away the need to rush and add some beautiful weather. We were able to enjoy an ice cream cone courtesy of our very own Navy veteran - my father - followed by some free play time, before our usual after school commitments.

Sisters on the swing

Julia showed off her swinging skills. She’s been honing them on the playground with a crackpot team of thrill-seekers known as her Kindergarten classmates. She had a lot to show me. It looked like this.

Julia on the swing

It may look like she’s just moving rhythmically to and fro, but according to her wildly imaginative narrative, she’s actually, um, doing something I don’t completely understand, but it sounds amazing. It’s about unicorns. Also mermaids. There’s a great deal of peril involved. Maybe I should have recorded some video rather than snap photos.

Lucy preferred to slide. And why wouldn’t she? She’s very good at it. She can do it all by herself, which is all the rage with two-footers these days.

Lucy on the slide

I took pictures.

Of me.

Me Me again

(Dave says I look “sexy” in that second one. I told him it was because I was thinking of him, but I was really thinking about doughnuts.)

And of cats.

Jasper Sweet little kitten

Even the fucker* that found himself stuck in the car. Again.

Ruby the asshole cat stuck in the van

Dumbass*.

*I can call him these things. I rescued him. Also, he’s peed on me, so the insults go both ways.

My dog Lola and me

Just me and my dog
I take her for a walk or
maybe she takes me

I was lying in the yard flying Lucy like an airplane when our cat Ruby approached.

Ruby was dumped off at our place last year. Initially we thought Ruby was a girl. Then he grew some testicles. We tried changing his name to something a little more masculine, but it was too late. Ruby was Ruby. And sometimes, Ruby The Boobie. Because Ruby is dumb. I think Ruby is also angry. There’s something about the way he keeps screwing other cats right on my front porch that makes me believe he’s got something to prove. He’s like, “Look at this! I’m ALL MALE, bitches! Check out my BOY PARTS, you stupid humans!

Anyhoo.

I sat up when I saw Ruby coming and said, “Hey Ruby!” extending an arm to pet him. I don’t know, it must have been the last straw, like, “Call me Ruby one more time and see what happens,” because the little fucker PEED ON ME. He sprayed the right side of my body from hip to shoulder.

I.Was.Livid.

I started screaming. I scrambled to my feet. I ran at the cat. I wanted to scream nasty things at him, but the kids were watching. So, I just lunged at him and yelled, “YOU! ARE! NOT!!!! MY! FAVORITE!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

I stormed into the house, tossed Lucy to Dave and went to the bathroom to scrub the pee off. You know what? When a cat pees on you, no matter how much or how hard you scrub, you never feel like you get it all off. Even two days later. It’s like being burned with acid. It’s demeaning as well as painful and it scars you for life.

Evil Ruby The Day Ruiner

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