Marching On

Last post of 2006

So it has been a little hectic here over the last few weeks.

Ozzie is now fine.  Still fat, but fine.  His new diet is agreeing with him, and his bladder seems to have come to a truce with the struvite crystals.

The Baron has recovered well after his minor disagreement with his appendix.  Physically, he healed very quickly but he had a mini nervous breakdown.  A few weeks on medication dealt with that, and the Baron is now back in fighting form. 

The Boy has decided that he likes staying at our house, and has been here for the last three nights.  The tooth fairy was forced to pay a visit a couple of nights ago, and I've been washing and drying his clothes each day like the nice auntie that I am.  He is currently playing Star Wars Battlefront and trying to come up with a good screen name.

Tomorrow is the big Star Wars marathon.  We've been looking forward to it, because we are very sad people, and we are going to work on my photo albums whilst watching the saga and eating obscene amounts of popcorn.

Happy New Year!

Pooped

Physically, mentally and emotionally.

So thanks for all the sandwich ideas.  As luck would have it, this week I have been at a client that I daren't leave to find a sandwich shop.  Let's just say it is a rough area and leave it at that.

Lila is now allowed out for walks.  I have been getting up extra early to get her out to have a nice long walk.  This doesn't mean she actually goes to the toilet outside though, so I also have to clean the floor every morning.  That also requires getting up early, since she can piss a small lake.

We started puppy training classes last night.  It was great fun, and she slept very well!  This evening we visited my parents and their dog, and they have played for five hours straight.  Lila has a more active social life than I do at the moment!

Work has been hectic.  I have reports coming out of my ears, and a pile to actually write.  I dream of reports.  And of the Baron writing my car off, and somehow I can combine the two for a really thrilling dream where I end up with no car and millions of reports.

I feel like my mind may just burst, but we are unable to take any leave until May, and I am booked solid until at least the middle of May.  Then I have to start my 05-06 work which has been delayed, so the holiday I have left simply isn't going to get taken.  I wouldn't mind so much, but my team is up to date.  As the other teams are not, we have been drafted in to do their work rather than employ temps. 

We will get extra pay to reflect the extra hours (our reports must be written in the evenings or at the weekends to give us maximise chargeable time on site) , but frankly I am tired now.  I need a rest.

I miss Harvey so much.  I've felt a lot better in the last few weeks, but this week,  it has really got bad again.  Driving home this evening with Lila, I came round the bend where he was killed and completely lost it. 

All I could think about was whether he felt being hit.  Did he cry when he was hit?  Did he feel any pain?  Did he know?

I can't get those thoughts out of my head.  The last few evenings, Willow has been jumping up on the bed, and my first thought is always "It's Harvey!".  And it isn't.  I don't know why I've been thinking that.  I try to hide my disappointment, because I am glad to see Willy, but I end up crying into her fur. 

I miss him.

The End

Harvey went missing on Sunday. The last I saw of him was him gleefully climbing the fence to look at the birds at next door's birdtable.

We called him intermittently all afternoon. As it grew closer to dusk, we went out and checked all around the neighbourhood.

All through the night we went out looking for him. He'd never been out after dark. It was cold and snowing, and he hated the cold. He wouldn't go outside if it was cold.

Even then I knew that something was wrong. He would have come if he could have.

I went to bed in the early hours. The Baron continued to search. At five, I felt a cat land on me. My heart soared - Harvey was home!

But it wasn't Harvey. It was Charlie taking over Harvey's job of waking me.I counted the minutes until the sun rose. Then I walked around the neighbourhood again, in my dressing gown. In the snow. The neighbours were surprised!

I had to leave for work. The Baron carried out on looking. He made a poster for us to put up.

Work was awful - I couldn't concentrate. I came home as soon as I could, and sped down the motorway.

We set off around the neighbourhood with our posters, torches and cat treats. Nothing like his favourite biscuit to lure him home.

It was so cold, it was difficult to push the tacks in to hold up the posters. We plastered the village from one end to the other. We put a few up outside the school, knowing that the children would want to help by checking garages and sheds.

We came home and waited. It didn't take long.My phone rang. It was a woman asking if I had put up the posters. I could feel hope spreading through me as she spoke. Then the two words.

"Bad news"

That was it. All over.

She came over to tell me in person.Harvey had been found on Sunday evening after a church meeting. He had been hit by a car on the sharp corner that brings you into our village. There wasn't a mark on him.

He was already cold, and there was nothing that could be done. They took his body out of the road and wrapped him up, so as not to upset the children the next morning on the way to school.They put notes through the houses nearest to explain, since Harvey would not wear a collar. Kept chewing them off.

The next day she saw us putting up our posters. And she knew who to call.

I collected his body and brought him home. The Baron didn't want to see his body, but I had to. I cuddled him whilst the Baron dug him a grave in the garden. The others came and sniffed him.

I didn't want to put him down again. He started to warm in my arms, and I could feel that his back had been broken. His end had come quickly. Too fucking quickly - he was two and a half.

The Baron left me to bury Harvey - he couldn't do it. I cuddled him and placed him in his grave. I threw the earth over his face first and I thought my heart would break. To see my baby, so full of life and mischief, lying in a hole in the fucking ground, still, cold and lifeless, was too much.I shut my eyes as I finished covering him.

I couldn't bear to see any part of him there. He didn't belong there, he belonged on my bed cuddling his brother.

And that was that.

We have marked his resting spot with some beautiful stones. White with black speckles, just like him. The Baron has made him a little headstone, and I have put my favourite cat ornament on his grave.Harvey is the first thing I see when I open my curtains in the morning.

I just can't believe that he is out there and not here with us. I can't believe that he is gone.

Harvey Cat. My first, my best, my soul cat.

Fucking hell

I feel ill. And saddened.

Goodbye clean air.

Goodbye to a meaningful right to choose.

Goodbye to any real homosexual rights.

Goodbye to civil liberties.

Goodbye to more lives lost in a meaningless war.

Still, people get what they vote for. And if people vote for a smirking little fucktard who can't string together a meaningful sentence, and wouldn't know the truth if it was smacked round his smirking little face, well that is what people get. And deserve. Well done, USA.

It is s shame that the rest of the world must suffer the consequences. War on terror my arse. The world's biggest terrorist has just been given free reign for another four years.

Thanks.

More snow

Out of the last six days, we have had at least some snow on five. Weird or what?

The cats don't like the snow and stay inside to bug me, my car looks vile from all the salt I've picked up on the motorway (and it is snowing and therefore way too cold to contemplate washing it, so vile it must stay) and I have to go and put the rubbish out for collection today so I will get cold and wet.

Other than that, I have no plans to do anything other than cook, have a scarily hot bath with lotions and potions, play my guitar, read a whole book and do my nails. No TV at all. Just some music. Oh and a nice homemade Auntie Sarah mocha coffee supreme.

The perfect Sunday.