The Stuff Happiness Shields Are Made Of

good_evil_wrestle_9844I don’t know about other people, but I find it is always easier to write a post about negative things going on in my life than positive ones. It isn’t that I don’t have a balance going on with both. I normally do. Maybe I don’t really write too much of the positive stuff because I assume the reader will find it boring, or even worse, weird. I get an extraordinary amount of enjoyment from experiences other people would consider just plain strange.

The downside of writing only about the stuff that bums you out though, is you paint a picture of yourself as a depressed, bleak, and generally whiny individual. I am not happy playing the part of the martyr or the victim, and not just because no one invites those kinds of people to their parties. It’s just not an accurate picture of me. I do have my share of cool stuff going on too.

I haven’t had any real mind-blowing positive stuff to write about recently, but after carefully weighing the pros and cons, I’ve decided I’d rather bore you with some boring-to-everyone-but-me positives than to risk being overlooked when you’re sending out party invitations.

So, here’s some of the boring, yet mostly good stuff, that’s been going on around in my world.

  • Sophie, our assumed barren cat of almost 2 years, had 6 kittens. Our other cat, Piper, who we had reason to believe was born barren as well, Black and White Boy 1aalso had some babies —  two of the ugliest kittens I’ve ever seen. So, instead of just having one dog, Sparrow, recent mother of 8, to get fixed, I now have two cats, long barren, who need to be spade as well. What the hell? It’s like we moved to some Magical Sterility Hill. I’m glad I am not getting lucky myself these days. Who knows how deep this rabbit hole goes?!
  • We found homes for all 8 of Sparrow’s puppies, 5 of Sophie’s 6 kittens, and one person’s promise to return for one of Piper’s hideous spawn. We will be getting Sparrow fixed asap. The whole puppy experience has lost its charm.
  • I will admit, Sophie’s kittens were kind of fun. If Piper’s kittens hadn’t been so unnerving and kind of scary looking, I might not have been in such a rush to make sure no more miraculous cat births take place. Yikes.
  • Chef came into a nice little amount of money recently, and he was really generous about helping me out with some of it. He not only helped meChef-1-12 out by buying my car insurance for a whole year, but he got me AAA as well. He bought me a photographer’s camera, clothes, and a ton of other little things I no longer take for granted anymore. It was an unexpected kindness from a least expected source, and I can’t really say thank you to him enough. Thanks, Chef!!
  • I paid my ticket during Tulsa’s Amnesty Warrant round-up, and Rebekkah did as well. Now, once I scrape together the money to reinstate my license, renew my expired tags on both the car and the truck, and avoid being pulled over by the cops while doing so, I’ll be almost normal again. Normal is freaking expensive.
  • With all the Bandido stuff in the news, there has been a mad rush for news media to cover all the different angles about outlaw biker clubs.Bird (4 of 1)-40 The Huffington Post found an old article I had written about being a girl in that culture, and they printed it. So, hey! I’m bonafide!
  • My son Dj, who very nearly died while in Missouri’s custody, spent the majority of his incarceration in ICU fighting pneumonia and some kind of infection in his blood. No one bothered to tell me he was in the hospital on life support because, as I was told afterwards “he wasn’t allowed to have visitors in the hospital when in custody”. I know one jail that is mighty lucky my son didn’t die on their watch, because this mom would have wreaked all kinds of havoc on them for not telling me he was near death, not to mention whatever they had done to make him that sick in the first place. He was healthier than usual when you took him in, and he was almost dead 2 weeks later. Hmm.  The upside is, he was also an expensive inmate. He racked up such a high Dj and His Dadbill in the hospital that the jail couldn’t wait to be rid of him, and he is now awaiting his transfer back home to Oklahoma while staying with his biological father in Missouri.

So, there’s my boring, though positive, list of happenings lately.

Happy Memorial Day!!

~ Bird

All That The Light Touches….

As you all know, we’ve been living with my Aunt Debbie. Of all my relatives, Debbie is the most laid back, sweetest person of the bunch. She was a computer simbprogrammer for her entire adult life, and has since retired. Occasionally, she takes a side job here and there, but for the most part, she leads a quiet, gentle life.

And then we arrived.

First up, Ella. Rebekkah rescued a puppy from her doorstep in Tulsa. In all of our minds, Ella was a present straight from God. She’s smart, short-haired, potty-trained, and full of energy. The only drawback to Ella is that she is rather high-strung. She gets extremely focused, and it is hard to break her attention long enough to get her to follow commands. For the most part, she’s really well behaved, until we introduced Beauregard Jangles into the mix.

Next up, a tiny month old kitten named Beauregard “Bo” Jangles is rescued from an engine. To say that Ella was mesmerized by Bo the minute she saw him is a giant understatement. The second she saw that fluff of white hair with a face, she couldn’t wait to put him in her mouth. She plays rather rough, being a puppy herself, and Bo seemed content to have his whole body drenched in dog saliva. I worried the first couple of weeks about Bo’s safety, but finally just gave up. I couldn’t keep either of them from playing with each other. I’ve seen Ella wearing him like a dangling earring, and I’ve seen Ella crying as Bo tried to ride her like a giant horse. All in all, they amuse each other to no end.

The problem is that Ella and Bo are residing in a home kept fastidiously neat and clean. The furniture is all leather — the real kind, not the fake — and they show no hesitation before clawing up the side of a chair, or jumping up on a couch. Rebekkah does her best to staunch the flow that is Ella, and I spend a lot of time corralling a gangly teenager Bo, but the constant alertness is wearing thin for all of us. Besides, they crave the presence of each other like thirsty travelers in the Sahara desert, and any effort to keep them separated and calm is met with a concrete resistance. Little paws reach blindly under doors, and Ella will scratch and bite at the door knob until her little friend is allowed out again.

Aunt Debbie says nothing, but the pained look on her face speaks volumes. I’m always careful to bring out such topics into the open so no resentments can build up in the dark. But talk is only so beneficial. Eventually, changes have got to be made. Yesterday, as I’m watching these animals gallop full speed around ceramic vases and leap in Olympic form over a dining room table, I had to decide to put my foot down and put them both outside, unsupervised. If Debbie had seen that, her heart would have ground to a complete stop. Thank God I wake up earlier than everyone else.

Bo and Ella were unceremoniously escorted into the back yard. I had a job interview to get ready for, and I just couldn’t babysit a dog and cat. Two hours later, they were happily playing together. Occasionally, Ella would scratch at the back door and look longingly at the couch where Rebekkah was sleeping, but Bo would easily command her attention again, and the race was back on.

Feeling relieved that the experiment had bought us a few hours without heart-stopping near accidents, I let Bo play outside off and on all day. He stayed in the back yard, playing hide-and-seek among Debbie’s potted trees on the back porch.

Clouds started piling up in the sky last night, and then some lightening started to flash. I went outside to collect my wayward cat, and lo and behold! he was on the top branches of a large tree. My butt puckered. There was no way I could get to him, and he looked so tiny and fragile up there.

Ella, Debbie, Bekkie, and I had no choice but to come back inside, leaving Bo to his tree. Every few minutes or so, I would go into the yard and try to coax my adventurer down out of the tree. He would turn a blind’s eye to me. He had the look of Simba…all that the light touched was his kingdom.

Standing at the back door, I was quelling the panic that wanted to rise up through my stomach when a large, bright lightening strike struck rather close. Bo no longer wanted to play in the tree, and I’ve never seen a cat climb down from such a high altitude in all my life.

To hell with his kingdom…..

— Bird

PS: I got the job!!!