Lately I’ve been thinking way too much. Some things in my life are totally out of control.

Sailor’s lymphoma,  which by the way as of today is no longer in partial remission, but out of control. At least out of mine. Since I don’t believe in “divine intervention,” I guess we are on our own.

The sale of our house in Colorado. Trust me; these people looking at our house don’t have clue what real houses or real life looks like. “Dated” ( read 10 yrs) is what we are hearing. Hmm… have we come forward as a society like Las Vegas that needs to raze everything in sight in order to keep up with what the current fad is? What has happened to timeless classic? Have we become a cookie-cutter society? So sad.

What about you, aka “my readers?” I get a few comments now and then. I’m not even sure people are reading and getting anything out of anything I write. I have always hated those people that whine about nobody commenting on their blogs. I don’t want to become one of them. I started this blog to keep friends and family in touch with what was happening in our lives. I guess I got greedy when a few people started to read. I would love to have more interaction with people reading my blog, but again, this has not happened and is out of my control.

Frankly, when I read other people’s blogs and they have over 10 comments I don’t feel the need to add mine in. In my mind they already have enough people commenting that the don’t need my simple opinion.

I need to take control over the things in my life that I CAN control. I’ve not yet decided what those things are exactly, but I need to work on a list and move forward. I’ve even thought of restricting my blog to family and friends only. Rick thinks I am nuts regarding this. I’ve had so many comments left by

spammers that you never get to see because of my enabling comment moderation it’s disgusting. It’s very discouraging when the number of comments that I have to approve are junk vs. viable.

Sorry to burden you all (whoever you are!) with this tonight but I am feeling very low. Maybe tomorrow will be different. It hasn’t been a good day.

A note: Thank you to all of you that either comment on the blog or let me know you’re reading by emailing me. I appreciate you all!

Yesterday’s weather was very spring-like. Beautiful blue sky, warm sun, and just the slightest breeze. Nothing like the gray skies, wind, and chilly rain that we’ve seen so far this year. We got out and worked in the yard a bit, getting rid of leaves that didn’t get cleaned up in the fall. They are everywhere! We made some good progress. At least our front yard (after professional clean-up) is now prepared and ready for the grass to start growing. Just when that will be, I don’t know. I snapped some pictures of the only things showing signs of life in my yard.

This tree in the front yard is always the first to show signs of budding. I don’t know what kind of tree it is but I will soon since I finally bought a tree identification book.

These bushes are planted along the front of the house. I don’t really like them but I don’t know what I would put in their place either. When it flowers (which is has decided is now) it’s kind of pretty. I think it’s called a Chinese-something-or-other.

The forsythia bush in the back flower bed has a bud or two waiting to pop.

The wild onions that proliferate our back yard are growing like crazy. I should put them in a salad or something. They are flavorful. (Note: that’s Alex enjoying the yard behind them.)

The daffodils are making progress over my photo of two weeks ago, but not much.

And that’s about the extent of spring in my yard. Today it’s back to being gray and sullen outside. By noon it’s supposed to be raining. I know it’s not the way the saying really goes but I’m hoping that all our March showers will bring April flowers. I’m not complaining, truly I’m not. I’m just tired of Winter and more than ready for Spring.

Some of you may be wondering how Sailor is doing since his diagnosis of lymphoma and his resulting chemotherapy. It’s been kind of an up and down journey so far. The first protocol which he had started the last time I wrote had to be abandoned after his nodes doubled in one week after the third treatment. It was very discouraging for us since this is the protocol that 80% of dogs respond well to. Not so for Sailor. Although he tolerated the chemo extremely well and was not at all ill from the treatments, it obviously was not working.

We started a new protocol five weeks ago. Instead of having a treatment every week this particular protocol is given three weeks apart. It had a 50/50 chance of putting his cancer into remission. After the first treatment his nodes decreased by about 2/3 during the first week and they stayed down for the next two weeks. On his second treatment our vet was discouraged that the nodes were still not normal; hence no remission. She was skeptical that the second treatment would have much effect. We went ahead with the same protocol anyway and made an appointment to have him checked in two weeks time instead of leaving it the full three weeks. Her thinking behind this was that if it was not working and his nodes increased in size again, we shouldn’t wait another week before switching to a different protocol.

Today was his two week appointment. I had been monitoring his nodes during that time and could not really tell any difference in them. Some days they would feel slightly smaller but it was not enough to be certain of. The vet confirmed that they were approximately the same size that they were two weeks ago with no changes. This is not the greatest news, but neither is it the worst. Her term was “partial remission.” Hey, I never thought I’d be glad to hear those two words, but I am. He has even gained weight. This might just be due to my giving him extra protein in the form of cooked meats added to his kibble which is supposed to be good for fighting cancer. I’ve cut back on the amount of kibble and give him at least 4 oz. of fresh meat at every meal.

Sailor doesn’t know he’s sick. He gobbles his food, has a high energy level, his coat shines, his eyes sparkle. He groans and moans when I hug him in his little Sailor-talk. We can’t ask for anything more right now than his quality of life.

We went in today fully expecting to switch protocols and start a new one, but we were all in agreement that we should continue with this one until it isn’t working anymore. So, no chemo today but we will go back in next week for our normal three week treatment. We are keeping our paws crossed that his nodes continue to behave! He will never be “cured” of this cancer but for now we are managing to keep the monster at bay.

You might think eBay is a funny name for a cat and I guess I’d have to agree with you. Unless, of course, you know how she came by her name which I am about to tell you. So sit back and I’ll tell you a tale (or is that tail?) of a kitten that was meant to be ours.

We were into buying older Jane Wooster Scott corkboard puzzles on eBay when I came across a puzzle for sale that showed two calico cats in the photo along with the puzzle. They were the same kind of calico (mostly white with a “cape” on their backs) that was like my cat Patches that I had lost many years ago. I have always wanted another one marked the same way, so I wrote to the woman selling the puzzle and asked if she had the mother of the cats. I figured it was a long shot, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

She wrote back saying that no, she did not have the mother but got them as kittens from a farm near where she lived. After a few email conversations went on back and forth with her I learned that while she lived in Iowa her son lived in Denver, a mere 50 miles away from me. (Remember we were living in Colorado then.)  She offered to go by the farm next time she was down that way and see if they had any calicos. Within a few days she emailed me to tell me that the farm did indeed have a few calicos. All the cats were feral and most of them giving birth in the chicken coops and living in not the best of conditions.

She sent photos of an older kitten (maybe about six months) and one that looked to be about four weeks old. We had reservations about taking a cat that had been feral for six months and trying to adapt it to our six-dog-two-cat-household. The kitten seemed a better bet. She then proceeded to tell me that she was driving out to visit her son within a few weeks and offered to bring the kitten to us! We figured the kitten would be old enough by then to leave its mother, so we chose the 4-week-old-ish kitten over the older one.

The day finally arrived and Debi called from Denver to say that they were on their way to our house. When she arrived I rushed out the door to meet my new little kitten. Debi held her out to me and my eyes could not believe what I saw. Whoa ... wait just a minute— this tiny “rat” without any hair and looking more like Yoda than a kitten could not be the beautiful kitten I had been expecting! It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. Ever. We all went inside and Debi started to explain ...

Her husband had gone to the farm to pick up the kitten because Debi couldn’t go. What he (or Debi) didn’t realize is that there were several calico kittens, and he picked the first one he came to. Scooped her right out of the chicken coop she was born in. Only thing was, this particular kitten was probably only about 3 weeks old. She could not even potty herself yet and Debi and her friend had had to stimulate her by wiping her bottom with a wet rag the entire trip from Iowa to Colorado. She was as helpless as ... well, a newborn kitten! I tried not to show my disappointment in not getting a cute, furry, cuddly kitten instead of a rat but it was hard not to.

She was so tiny that I was afraid to let the dogs near her, so I put her in our bedroom in a cozy nest of blankets and closed the door. I checked on her from time to time and she was in a different spot in the room each time. She was having no trouble exploring her new environment. It was obvious that although she was tiny, she was a scrappy little thing!

When Rick got home he couldn’t quite believe it either. She was so ugly that she was kind of cute. She basically had no hair whatsoever, a little pot belly, four scrawny legs, and huge bat ears. We decided to introduce the dogs to her carefully and held her while the dogs inspected her. At first sniff one of our female Bernese, Margaux, jumped up on the bed with us and would not let any of the other dogs come close. She gave out a low growl and the others backed off. She was guarding that kitten like it was one of her own puppies!

Once in the room by herself with the kitten, Margaux took over as her mother. She pottied her and licked her until the poor thing was soaking wet. One swipe of her tongue lifted the kitten off her feet. She rolled over and made her nipples accessible so the kitten could nurse. Poor Margaux, she didn’t have any milk, but having had a litter of pups the year before was no stranger to knowing what to do. Even though the kitten was not getting any nourishment from this activity, it was providing her warmth and succor. (Not to mention the more obvious plus: getting pottied!) It became a ritual that throughout the day I would put them together for monitored bonding time.

eBay climbed all over Margaux and snuggled into her long fur. Here you can see her on Margaux’s back and standing to “nurse.”

Our other female, Mira, was not to be left out of this whole mothering scenario. She had been very jealous when Margaux got to have puppies and she wasn’t going to miss this chance to do her part. While Margaux had failed in the milk department, Mira managed to bring in milk for the kitten. I kid you not. Here they are caught in a nursing moment. Mira kept nursing eBay long after it was necessary. I think it brought them both a great deal of comfort.

Of course, this was not enough to sustain eBay. We fed her formula through a small syringe (bottle feeding did not work),  even getting up in the middle of the night when she woke mewing for food. We kept her in an small airline kennel by the bed so she was safe from being stepped on. I still have fond memories of her waking me up at the crack of dawn, mewing at the top of her tiny kitten lungs and clinging to the door of the kennel.

She began to flourish under the care and attention of our upside-down household. She started to look like a kitten—finally.

She accepted the dogs as she would another of her own feline contingent. Here she is with Sailor, who at the time was only about 7 months old himself.

When I was still feeding her formula via a syringe, it was very messy. She ended up with formula smeared all over her face. The area between her mouth and nose seemed to never come clean. It always looked like I’d missed a spot in cleaning her up. I scrubbed and scrubbed. It still looked dirty. eBay, why didn’t you tell me that the reason it looked dirty was because it was part of your funny pigmentation? Today you can see what I call her “marmalade spots” quite clearly.

She grew into a beautiful, intelligent cat. Here are some candids of her over the years.

She has cute dots on the back of her head. To me it looks like somebody got careless with a paint brush or they couldn’t decide what color she should be.

And, one big black target on her belly and also black splotches on the backs of her legs. Cute, eh?

So now you know the origin of her rather odd name. That’s our eBay and we love her dearly. Just think: if not for an auction on eBay and the kindness of a total “stranger” (thank you Debi!) we would not have her today. She is very special, and after reading her story you can’t help but agree that she was meant to come and live with us from the very beginning.

This beautiful amaryllis has given me great joy. It was given to me for my birthday back in December by my neighbor, Aileen. It is now on its third and final flowering stalk. It saved its best show for last: six huge blossoms! It graces my kitchen window and drinks in the southerly sun. Outside my window the no-longer-winter-not-quite-spring landscape is drab and colorless. When I took it outside on my deck yesterday to snap these photos, it injected my brown outside world with a jolt of color.

This is the first amaryllis that I’ve ever had, but it certainly won’t be my last. Next year I vow to pot at least two different varieties. So lovely. It asked nothing of me except for sun and water and gave everything it had back.

Spring is coming, I know. There is a change in the air. It smells different; feels different on my skin. I saw my first robin this past weekend, and the little fox sparrow that scratches around like a tiny chicken has shown up at my feeder for the first time this year. 

Soon our trees will leaf out, and the world outside my window will be a sea of green. I long to open my windows wide and let the beautiful song of the wood thrush fill this house once again.

Poking around in my flower beds the other day I came across proof that the earth is starting to stir again. More gifts that keep giving. Soon ... soon, spring will come.