Good Night, Sweet Ed

On July 18 we lost our Eddie. Incidentally, this is my birthday as well, and losing a loved one has to be the last way I'd choose to mark my birthday.
It was breakfast time, and my brother had just made me a fabulous birthday breakfast spread... we were sipping mimosas when Don yelled to me. Ed was under the couch, and not breathing well at all.
We rushed to the emerg clinic and I ran in, thinking I had it all under control, but when I had to speak, I started to cry, and a garbled, "MY CAT'S NOT BREATHING RIGHT!" or something similar fell out of my mouth. They rushed him in and started him on puffers (thinking maybe he was asthmatic) and put him on oxygen immediately.
Later in the day, after xrays turned up nothing, they did an ultrasound, and found that he had heart disease, with scarring as evidence of prior minor attacks.
This one had thrown a blood clot to his legs and lungs, leaving him without the use of his legs and a lung filled with fluid.
I kept thinking, wow, this is really serious, and at least now we know what's wrong, so we can watch for it when we take him back home... but as the day wore on, the painful truth became more and more evident. Eddie was not coming home with us.
It was past midnight when we decided to put an end to Ed's suffering, he wasn't going to be able to breathe on his own, and even if he could, by this time his back legs were of no use. We couldn't make him hang on and suffer through this without hope of regaining his prior quality of life. We had spent a lot of tears that day, in fear that we'd have to face this decision, but it had to be. We said goodbye to him about 12.30 - so far the hardest thing either of us has had to do.

It's been more than a month now, and I'm not sure that I actually believe it happened. It seems so surreal, and so wrong. I had never expected to lose Ed first. He was only 10 years old. It somehow made more sense to me that Lucy, our older cat, or Ender, our dog, would be the first to go... not Ed. It took us by surprise, really knocking the wind out of us. For a couple of weeks afterwards, I just felt exhausted. I am still having the hardest time at night, when I expect him to come pouncing up onto the bed, to sleep on our pillows (strategically placing himself as far from the dreaded dog as possible)
Sometimes I swear I hear his scratchy little meow (a la "Cartman" from South Park) or see his white and silver shape out of the corner of my eye. The dog has stopped peering around corners, deciding that his great white nemesis has left him alone, but I still find myself looking for him, expecting him to be there.
We surely miss Ed, he filled a big space in our family, and we know he will never be replaced. Even though I desparately want this to make some sense, I think I have realized that there is no sense to be made of it, no happy twist to the story, because I have never believed most of those fairy tales anyway.
A good friend told me this past weekend that there is an old Indian (native North American, I'm assuming) story that says our pets will be waiting to greet us when we die. I'd like to believe that, but it will be some time before I can test that theory out.

Ed, my first "Mister," I miss you little Man.

Sara Tavares at Lula Lounge

I had the best chill night last night with my sister - we went to Lula Lounge to see Sara Tavares perform. She has a fabulous voice, and for anyone interested in music from around the world, she's one to check out - she sings in Portuguese, and the music has definate african and latin vibes to it... it's amazing!
Click here for info

St Lawrence trip

This past weekend we were in Brockville to dive the St Lawrence river - we did 4 dives on three wrecks - one of which was a working dive towards our advanced level - - and it was a BLAST!
We were a bit nervous about the trip, because all the research we had done before hand put such emphasis on the current in the river, we were a bit unsure of what we were getting ourselves into. But the day we were there, the river was kind, the sun was shining - it was a perfect setting for a new experience.
We were also a bit intimidated by the rest of our diving group - all much more experienced than us, most of them were dive masters. But the group was great, and especially Dave and Julie, who took us under their wing to help us learn about the river.
We saw three wrecks: the Lillie P, the Daryaw and the Gaskin.
The Daryaw was a deep dive, and a huge boat - the buoy line brought us first to two HUGE props at the stern.
The Lillie P was a lot of fun - we dove this one twice (on one tank!) They call this the "merry-go-round," because, after poking around the shipwreck, you can swim to an area just off the boat, catch the current and drift around sparrow island. There is a yellow line you need to watch for - and GRAB IT - because if you don't you'll be swooshed around the island, and out into the shipping channel. We grabbed the line the first time - stopped, waited for the boat to come back, and while waiting, decided we had enough air in our tanks to do it again. If the boat had come back, we would have swapped to a new tank for our second dive, which would have given us more time to poke around the wreck. My first dive I was so busy trying to pay attention to the current, that I barely saw the shipwreck. After I was comfortable in the current, I was able to pay better attention to the ship, but wished I had more air. I used about 1500 psi per dive. Ah - but the fun part is this - once you grab that line, do your safety stop (being blown by the current like laundry on a line!)and ascend - you are at the edge of sparrow island - a rocky little globule of an island. It's here that you need to toss your fins up the rocks, and climb out - and potentially right across the island to do it again. We took a break, waiting for said boat, but most people hike across the island right away. And, even after our break, we did the hike, tanks et al on our backs - loads of fun on unstable terrain. But we all made it safely, and slipped back into the water.
We had a great day on the water, the charter operators were great - they had the best dive boat I'd seen, the first deck being totally enclosed, and the upper "sundeck" complete with bbq and stereo speakers!

I need to get back to Brockville, there are more wrecks to see, and it's such a great dive environment!!

Swimming and the end of home reno?

We're just on the brink of June and the weather has been hot for some time now. My pool is open, and we've even had a handful of sticky days in a row to be able to swim.
We're almost done our bathroom too - which is great news, because it's getting too hot, and the project has dragged on too long now. We were mentally finished with it weeks ago, yet physically we still have to slog away at it. Now the ceiling is painted, the walls are primed and ready for paint and the floor is almost tiled. The bath has been tiled and in use for over two months now, and the shower tiles need grouted when the floor gets grouted. We have yet to put the cabinets together (Ikea - after the kitchen and the bedroom wardrobe, I could do those in my sleep!) and then we'll need to order the counter top and the glass for the shower.

When we embarked on this project, boy were we naive! We seriously underestimated the amount of time, sweat and frustration that would come with completely gutting and enlarging our existing bathroom. Plus, it's been a tough go on top of our regular 9-5 type jobs.
Soon our hard labour will pay off, and if you come by our place, you will see the two LAZIEST people alive, just reading by the pool, flopping about in the pool, and enjoying some cold "ones."

At least that's the plan...

Home is where my Lucy is!

Lucy came into my life almost 12 years ago, in May. My boyfriend and I had just moved into our first apartment together, and decided we needed a “little one” to make it feel more like a home. I had found an ad boasting kittens that were free to a good home – surely we’d be a good home! We worked together at the time, and our boss was gracious enough to let us leave early together that day, and speed through rush hour traffic. We had found out when we called about this little kitty that she was the last one left from the litter, and that three other couples had planned to come and pick her up.
I ran up to the front door and pushed the doorbell. The man who answered the door said that we’d got there first, and he went to go get the kitten. When he returned to the door, my eyes locked gaze with the brilliant yellow eyes of the kitten in his grasp. I was smitten at first sight! He passed her to me, and the next thing I remember I was sitting in the passenger side of the car introducing her to Don.
The man came out to the car and mentioned that she was litter trained, and bade her farewell. I must have been grinning like a fiend. I wonder if he doubted our abilities as “cat people?”
We brought our feisty little bundle home, and she promptly dove under the futon. It was a very obvious choice of cover, since it was the only piece of furniture we had been able to afford at that point. Because I had the next two days off, I was able to spend quite a lot of time lying on the carpet with my head sideways, talking to this stunning little nymph who absolutely refused to leave her hideout. Eventually we struck a bargain, and she started walking around the place like she owned it – I’ve been happy since to claim that any house of mine is owned by my Lucy first!
Lucy and I bonded very closely, and from her very early days, she would sleep nestled in my hair, kneading the back of my neck with her paws (and yes, sometimes claws!) You’d never see me happier than when I was lying in bed with my kitten scratching the back of my neck.
As a kitten, she was a wild thing, who routinely leapt through the apartment at a height of about 4 feet off the ground. She obsessed about nailholes in the walls – and used to jump at them for hours. She also used to call spiders down - - well, she’d call to them, and I’d have to thwack them down for her to play with – come to think of it, she was really calling me.
She has a different meow for different occasions – a very distinct “TUNA NOW” meow, a special meow to call Ed (our other cat), a lonely, “where are you??” meow, and a very distinct “come find me” meow, among others. She also has a fabulous purr- like a finely tuned Japanese sportscar, it’s tight and buzzy.
Even now, after the addition of another cat and a dog to our little family – I’ve not had such a bond with another animal before.

Well, I didn't vote for you!

I went to bed dreading an outcome that's been confirmed this morning, by logging onto the beloved CBC... our Prime Minister is now Stephen Harper.
Thanks to dimwits everywhere, voting as a kneejerk reaction to propaganda surrounding a liberal scandal, there is potential that we about to see abysmal changes to this country we call home. Under a Harper government we may see very Canadian staples like the CBC, government sponsored healthcare, our privelege NOT to participate in silly war activities like our neighbours to the south - oh yeah, and our basic human rights. After these changes, I suppose we can just call it America instead.
Sure he's proposing tax cuts, but all the money in the GST won't pay for what he's threatened to take away. Most everyone can afford to pay a %7 tax on items they purchase, but definately not everyone can afford to pay for access to healthcare. But, Stephen Harper and his corporate buddies can, so I guess that's what matters most.
At least only a portion of us lost our heads, and they are only a minority government. We'd better hold on and pay attention - we're in for quite a ride...

The Half Baked Sundae

Yup, it's all in the name -don't ask - how else could we have come up with this?!
Anyway, for a fabulous munchie of your own, try this!

Mix up some cookie dough, preferably something with chocolate chips. Bake whatever dough has escaped being eaten as raw dough. Take the cookies out of the oven BEFORE they are totally done - they will be slightly crispy at the very edges and very soft and melty in the centre.
Serve warm cookie over small scoop of ice cream (it's okay, I said "small scoop," see?) Delish! The melty cookie softens the ice cream and this is sooo yummy! Plus, depending on how much raw dough was consumed, you might even have some cookies left over to eat the next day! (a la suggested serving on the package)

cheers!

My Grandma Pat

This was something I had written for a yoga magazine contest - they asked for a piece of writing about a person you have met that emodies what it is to be a yogi. I wrote the piece, and, true to my fashion, did not procure a FREAKIN' STAMP in time to send it... (I never seem to have a stamp when I need one, does this happen to anyone else? I'd like to see a new system, one where each address has a code of some sort, and all outgoing mail can be billed to an account associated with that code... but that's a theory for another day.)
I thought I'd post this here, just because this is where things of a typed nature should be. So, without further ado, enjoy:

They say, “Children and animals know things.”
Even as a young child, I knew that my Grandma Pat was a bright light, a precious gift. I feel blessed to have had her in my life. I was too young while she was alive to know that she was the first yogi I’d met. It’s only now that I’ve begun my own study of yoga, that I realize she was far ahead of me on the path already.
She was gentle, loving and patient. Her presence did not COMMAND attention, her ways were far less intrusive. Instead, you felt compelled to take notice, to take in every word, to be touched by her energy. Whatever was brought to you by her presence or her voice was a small gift to be cherished forever.
Pat exuded strength. She was widowed early, left alone to raise four boisterous boys, and their princess-come-tomboy sister. (my mother) She was loving, patient and handled conflict with endless equanimity, her mantra being, “This too shall pass.” She passed her wisdom and ways on to my mother, and I find myself striving to live up to them as well.
She was a teacher throughout her life, and in her last teaching position she worked closely with new immigrants, not only teaching them English, but helping them acclimatize to their new country, often on her own time.
My Grandma Pat was a great lover of life, nature and the universe. She adored violets, sculpting the clay she dug from her garden, and watching the lake beside her house. She had a profound respect for everything from the smallest insect to the vastness of the night sky. Some of my best memories include evenings spent curled up with her on the couch watching Carl Sagan on Cosmos.
She even had a bit of a physical practice, yet I doubt she would have called it yoga. From a very young age, her parents had her go outside every day to do breathing exercises, regardless of weather. And her physical exercise was comprised mainly of a series of stretching movements, which, looking back at it now, were very rooted in yoga.

There are many times I find myself thinking of her in the quiet that comes to me at the end of my practice. It is in these moments when I feel close to her again, where I feel a connection with her thanks to the balanced calm. Although I only had her in my life for ten years, she has been a part of me always. And although I have always recognized how special she was to me, it has not been until I began my yoga practice that I have rediscovered a connection with her and learned the one word which acknowledges her for what she was. I think of her each time I say it: Namaste.

Go On, ask me if I feel targeted!

Lately, I've noticed a curious and not completely undisturbing phenomenon. I'll be out shopping, for groceries, at the drugstore, at IKEA for dog's sake, and I'll hear some catchy tune from my youth, blaring over the speakers. I first noticed it when I was walking up an aisle at the grocery store, and they were playing Duran Duran. Then, as I started paying attention, I noticed that many places where I was spending my money were playing the songs I knew all too well. Cure, New Order, Duran Duran, Banarama, the Go-Gos, early Madonna, A-Ha... the list goes on. I think I heard Spandau Ballet somewhere the other day.
Now this is not the music I currently listen to, but it was at one point... and the more I started thinking about it, the more I realized that I'm now part of somebody's (many people's, apparently) target market. That's a creepy feeling, when you really think about it.
I remember chuckling to myself and friends about bad seventies make-out music and all that happy-crappy fifties stuff, or Elvis, being played in such places... but now, I'm just lumped in with the rest of those old folks, those of us with increased disposable income, and decreased youth.
Yes, it makes me feel like I have a bullseye on my back, but I guess it also means that I'm getting older, something I can't do anything about.
So I might as well just grin and bear it, and hum along with Culture Club, OMD and all those other golden oldies!

questions

When did I stop creating?

>>full time job - - I began wanting things and places

That's when
Misplacing value, putting it where it does not belong.

At the same time, I stopped having fun, being fun, being silly...
and shifted focus to what others thought about my actions, my words

although they were all mine!

This must be what it is to grow up?

Can it be undone?

Green

Feels smooth and alive, and tastes clean and sweet, a bit sharp.
Rumoured to be the colour most easily processed by the human brain, and that our blood appears green at a certain depth beneath water.
Green bounces: my cat's green eyes watching a green ball

Green is giving, sharing, growing - - how odd the ancients decided it should represent envy, and the almight dollar in the south.

Green is toy slime, rolled beneath my five year old hands
The christmas jello with the cabbage in it.
A praying mantis named Eunice, my pride and joy for a brief summer.

The crunch of a tart apple covered with soft caramel.

Rude numbers on my alarm clock.

Sweet smelling grass to lie in.
Dry rasp of palms blowing in a tropical wind.
Fresh basil and Lime

Lush

My Halifax adventure!

I spent this past weekend in Halifax Nova Scotia visiting my friend, who is studying at Dalhousie U. It was so great! I had never been to Halifax before, but more importantly, I cannot remember the last time I've had so much time to spend with Michelle! I may have never had this much time to spend with Michelle before this.
I arrived on friday night, and Michelle met me at the airport. After a long ride on the airport shuttle, we had a yummy dinner back at her place and talked for a long, long, long time... oh yeah, we drank some wine :) (we're good at that, aren't we?)
The next day, we were up early and went to the farmer's market - which was such a cool experience! It's held in an older portion of the Alexander Keith's brewery - and it winds around like a little maze, every corner turning up new musicians, delicious sights and smells, wicked coffee, and the best damn cinnamon roll I've every had! So we just wandered through the market, talking and taking it all in, and then we headed for the harbour in the bitter cold, but I had so much fun!
It's a beautiful city and of course, it was great to spend the time with Michelle.
Later in the day, she gave me a tour of the lab where she works at Dalhousie, and that was just fascinating! Brains, and slides and microscopes, oh my!
Saturday night was an appetizer gathering with friends at her place before dinner at the Fireside, it was really a great evening, and a very happy weekend overall.

Thank you Michelle for the hospitality, I had such a wonderful time!
Hope we can meet up over xmas (I will have a room ready for you and Samuel!)

curious cat/dog happenings

So, once Lucy was back to her normal self, we had a very odd evening of animal happenings. Just to introduce this evening's cast: Ender is a 3 year old lab, and Lucy and Eddie are my two cats.
SO, my brother and I were sitting on the couch petting Lucy when she began some very strange behaviour. The cats are not typically fond of their brutish brother, Ender, and they usually try to avoid even eye contact with him at all costs. This night however, Lucy began sitting and staring at Ender for long periods of time - just staring, no emotion involved, staring steadily as if she were practicing a jedi mind trick. This did something to Ender, because he sat their whimpering and fidgeting the whole time Lucy was staring at him. And she did this from several points in the room, she moved around, and from each new spot, just sat staring. For one of the staring sessions she was about a foot from his head, on the floor in front of the couch he was sitting on. She also jumped onto the arm of said couch, and finally up on the back of it as well. This was far too much for Ender, he thought she was really going to kill him this time, so he left the room.
But later that night, with all five of us in the bed, Eddie left the bed, and went downstairs and was MEOOOOOOWING and MEEEEOOOOOOOOOOWING quite a bit. The next sound we heard was a tennis ball DROPPING beside the bed. Ender had not brought one to bed with him, Eddie had brought the tennis ball up from downstairs and dropped it by the bed... an offering? An attempt to get the big brown canine off the bed? That is more likely.
Lying in bed, I thought, what can it all mean? I thought we had reached a turning point in their relationship, maybe cats were making peace with dog and the world would be a better place...
When I awoke the next morning, I realized that, in fact, hell had not frozen over, and life was back to "normal" once again, with cats hissing and stepping out of the way of the big brute... so I will never know what thoughts were passing through the collective kitty mind that night...

EXTRA, EXTRA, Read all about it: "Boy" Saves Cat!

We arrived back from Jamaica on a saturday evening, about 5.30, and we had planned to check in on the animals, and then go to rent about 3 or 4 movies, and complete our vacation by vegging on the couch with our two cats and our dog.
When we walked in, my aunt was here - her car was not... at first, I was really happy to see her, gave her a happy greeting and a big hug - and then I started wondering... why is she here? She began by saying, "Lucy is okay, BUT..."
And from this point, the previous week was gone temporarily from my head.
She explained that the dog must have been chasing the cat (a regular occurance in our house) and Lucy must have tried to hide behind the plethora of crap we have in the basement, and between the two of them a big heavy cutting board (it's really more like a two inch thick BLOCK of wood) fell on Lucy. That's at least the commonly accepted lore of what happened, because there seems to be no other explanation. I'm so lucky that my brother was home when this happened, because he heard the big noise and went to see what happened, and when he found her, she was bleeding a LOT from the nose, eye, mouth area, and sort of stumbling around. He says she began going into shock almost immediately, and he rushed her to the emergency vet. They worked on her there overnight, and he moved her to her regular vet the next day. She was still pretty groggy when we got home, which was three days after her bonk on the head - and she hadn't been eating.
My poor Luce seemed to progress each day, my brother had already seen improvements since bringing her home, and from the point that I got home, we only saw improvement. It had happened on the wednesday night, and by the monday evening, she was playing a bit -swatting at my bookmark while I moved it in front of her... and on tuesday, when I came home to have lunch with her, she ate some havarti cheese and some chicken broth! I was on cloud nine! I was so happy she was eating!
So from there, she has gotten back to my good old Lucy - she sleeps with me every night, she comes to say hi when I call her...
I consider myself very lucky that my brother took such expert care of his little feline-neice, and that she is a strong kitty as well!

On Jamaica time!

In October, we went to Jamaica to celebrate our friend's birthday - and it just so happened that we left the day after our anniversary - so we could say we were celebrating that too.
We stayed at the Riu Negril in Jamaica, and it was incredible! We only made it out diving one day, because of the recent hurricane action down there - and it happened to be the last possible day we could dive, and the first day the dive boat had gone out in over a week. I consider us lucky there.
On our first dive, I did something completely stupid. As we were descending, I let go of the anchor line, figuring I'd just sink as normal - not accounting for the current, and the extra neoprene and the weight I'd gained - long story short, I didn't have enough weights on to get down, and the current pushed me right away from the anchor line. At this point, I fought the current to get back to the boat and grab more weights, my buddy (my boyfriend, pretty ticked by this point) waiting for me the whole time. When we finally did descend, no more than 5 minutes since my first attempt at sinking - the divemaster had left! He and the group were nowhere to be seen! Visibility was not great, maybe only about 30 feet or less, so we could not see them anywhere once we made it to the anchor! He just took off without us, and at this point, I was wondering if he realized where he had lost two people from his group. Don and I just swam around the anchor line, seeing what we could see, but we were only 30feet down, so that wasn't much. He was really disappointed in me, and rightly so, like I said, it was stupid, but we were both really pissed with this divemaster, especially when he said (afterwards, back on the boat) "What happened to you? I saw you float away from the line?!" I thought, holy crap, buddy, isn't it your job to make sure everybody gets down and back up safely?
I've been diving for a while now, and I've never done anything this stupid before, but I've also seen divemaster after divemaster, counting heads, and keeping the group in line.
We went on a second dive with the same divemaster, and another guy had trouble descending this time. You should have seen how quickly this guy swam up to help him - he knew he had messed up with me on the first dive. But later on that dive, the divemaster just swam ahead of the group, expecting everyone to follow, and sure enough, two of the newbie divers decided to swim after something that caught their eye, and the divemaster didn't even notice! It was my boyfriend who called them back, and by this time, they were so far away that all I could see were goggles when they turned when being called back. This guy was just plain irresponsible.
In spite of all that, I did get to see a turtle, my first one on a dive! So, that was incredibly exciting in itself.
As for the resort, I didn't really care for it, it wasn't awful, but it didn't really set itself apart in any way - well, except for the food. I have to say that of all the resorts I've stayed at in Cuba, Dominican and Jamaica, the food here ranked the lowest. Not much selection, poor availability (most resorts at least have a grill going for the late night and in-between snacks...)
But I really loved Negril, it seemed more laid back, less congested than Montego Bay, and I would return to the area, I'd just stay at a different resort.

Happy Birthday Aaron!

The much rumoured, but rarely duplicated (thank goodness) Skeletor Cake!

Nobody likes a know-it-all

Yesterday, driving to work, I was listening to a bit on the CBC about intelligent design - some ridiculous piece of weaponry in the arsenal of the anti-evolutionists.
Intelligent Design (referred to ID) proposes that the theory of evolution is faulty because it cannot explain EVERYTHING. ID faults evolution for not explaining every last little detail, like highly complex and repetitive patterns in nature. The ID-ologists proclaim that because there are so many repetitive complex patterns occuring in animal, mineral and vegetable alike, they must have been "designed" with intent by some conscious being.
All I can think of in reply is, "COME ON!" Of course we don't know EVERYTHING! And it's not the fault of any theory anywhere - we're human beings! I'm fairly positive that at this particular place in our development (or evolution, of you will) we are not capable of knowing or discovering EVERYTHING, and that's okay...
True intelligence is being able to admit when you don't understand or know something. It's the drive to keep searching, keep experimenting and wondering. It is NOT the ability to say, "I don't know, therefore, it must be magic," which, is essentially what this ID guesstimate gives us.
If we can't comprehend all the mysteries and complexities that exist all around us and inside us, we do not have to come up with some imaginary friend or process responsible for it all.
And, if that's how you personally deal with the unknown, well, that's fine, we all have our own take on the world. But consider that this story of Intelligent design is being taught in some schools, along side other curriculum such as evolution, gravity and algebra. Outside of a mythology class or a comparative religion study, this sort of story telling does not have a place in any school.

As a species, we have learned so much over our lifetime; and we have much more to learn. It makes me cringe to think that someone could give up that easily - just point their finger at a mystical, unknown source, with no evidence other than the fact that our species hasn't uncovered a theory of EVERYTHING!
And, it makes me sad to think that there are so many people out there willing to take the wonder of out everyday life as well. Should we be in such a rush to know all that there is to know that we just start making it up as we go?

Laser Eye surgery, anyone?

Is there anyone out there who has had experience with corrective laser eye surgery? Or do you know anyone who has? I'm seriously considering having it done in Toronto - and I'd appreciate any feedback I can get, good or bad.

Anyone?

What's in the box?

Today, my Lucy taught us a lesson. We had scheduled her a vet appointment, and getting her to the vet is always a traumatic event for all involved. Lucy is quite the ninja, so to get her into the cat carrier normally involves lots of chasing, pleading, a ruse or two, and a great deal of frustration on our part. For Lucy, it's full of fear, vomit (and other outputs) and fancy moves with her ginsu claws.
We decided that we'd prefer to avoid all of that if we could, and try to get her to the vet a different way this time. Don decided that we should just put a harness and leash on her and try to carry her to and from the car. A few puncture wounds later, he came to the conclusion that would not work as planned.
Last night, my brother had been playing with Lucy in a cardboard box - she adores cardboard boxes - and he mentioned how easy it had been to carry her around the house in the box, and maybe we should try the box to get her to the vet. We took his advice, and gave it a try - and my Lucy was so calm, her breathing didn't change, she just sat in her box, peeking out the top when she wanted. I was stunned. We'll be taking her to the vet in her cardboard box every time now.
She must feel more in control, because there is no door being locked on her, and when she wants out, she just sits, up, looks around and ducks back in.
I have to admit, this involved a lot of trust on my part. I was worried that she'd escape, rush into traffic, getting harmed, lost, or worse. But she showed us that if we just gave her a bit of freedom, that she was much more comfortable, and she wasn't interested in getting away.

So, next time you are trying to fold a feline into a crate, and the claws and the curses are flying - try a bit of trust and a simple cardboard box instead. It may work for you the way it worked for us! (I still recommend the harness and leash!)

Underestimating happiness

How many people experience true happiness in their daily lives? Think about your life. When was the last time you were truly happy, full of joy, beaming a giant smile?
Next time you are busy rushing about your day, stop, and take a look around you and take notice of the expressions on the faces around you. Can you tell what they are feeling?
When I look around me, I see a range of expressions, mostly bored, hurried, frustrated.
In our constant hurry-up culture, people always seem to be thinking of the next thing, where they are headed, what they are late for, what to make for dinner. Very few of us actually reside in the current moment. I find myself in the same state, every day, and I'm working to change it.
Someone once told me that we can only find happiness in the present moment and I know this is true.
I had spent a large part of my younger life feeling that it was "cheesey" to be really happy, that it was dumb, or proved that I wasn't an intellectual. Boy, was I wrong and dumb at the same time! I was afraid to find happiness for the sake of happiness because I thought it would make me look shallow. Maybe there are others like me out there - I hope not. If I found out that only I had made that stupid, dumb mistake, then I'd be very happy!
I do wonder though if other people try to make a conscious effort to fit happiness into their day. I know what it's like to be swept away by waves of "should dos" and "have tos" and "can't be lates."
Maybe I was a late learner - but if there are other people out there who are being drowned by all
of these demands and expectations, I have one word of advice: breathe.
I have learned this through my yoga practice, and I've found it to be invaluable advice. Breathe, I mean it. Pay attention to your breath and nothing else. Don't change it, just let it flow as it normally does. You'd be amazed at how happiness will find you when you take yourself out of the rat race for a moment.
And if I'm cheesey and shallow for saying it, then so be it.

S.