Friday Night Camp In

Devon has often talked about taking the boys camping, but it hasn't happened yet for a variety of reasons. This was the first week of school for Ian and for me at work, so honestly this week has really been a blur. Devon mentioned a few times this week that he wanted to set up a tent this weekend, but I didn't really catch all of the details. Anyway, he knew what a week this has been for me, so he offered to watch the boys, so I could go have dinner with my parents and my sister. When I left the house, I knew he was going to set up a tent for the boys, but for some reason I imagined a tiny, little tent. :)  When Devon does something, he does it very well, and tonight was no different.

When I came home this evening, I found our furniture moved, and a very large two family tent set up in our living room. "Happy Feet" was on pause, and the boys were in the kitchen making stovetop smores. 

On the way home from work, Devon stopped at the grocery and bought smore essentials!

Ian loved his smore!

After finishing their smores, the boys returned to their tent.

Tent with lots of blankets - all smiles in here!

My sweet boys

Ian and Matthew both love books, but reading by flashlight is even more exciting! 

Wrapping up "Happy Feet"

The boys had a wonderful evening. Not only was Daddy kind enough to watch the boys on a Friday night, but he did it in such a fun way! I have a feeling there will be more movies watched in the future from the comfort of our tent. 

RIP Robin Williams

I'm not sure why I am so sad about Robin Williams' passing, but I am. We have never met and honestly I can't remember the last time I watched one of his movies. It's nothing personal - I just don't have much time to watch movies these days. Tonight when I read the headline that Robin Williams had died, my heart immediately sank. As with most of the news I read, I was reading on my phone, so then I clicked on the link to read the article. After I read that he died of an apparent suicide, my heart sank even more. Such a preventable loss of life.

I haven't been a counselor for many years, but in my short stent in the mental health field, I have worked with a number of individuals who were clinically diagnosed as having a major depressive disorder. Depression is such a beast to understand and sometimes even harder to treat. When a person gets so depressed that they are in a dark enough place where they don't see a reason to go on living, it's very hard to get them to agree to treatment - lifestyle changes, therapy, medication, etc. While I have a basic understanding of some of the chemical and physical reasons for depression, I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around suicide. What must Robin have been thinking this morning as he prepared for his own death? How deep must his pain and hurting have been that the thought of death outweighed everything else? Did he consider the pain he would cause his wife and children? For someone who passionately played so many roles pertaining to love and relationships, it's hard for me to understand how he was able to do this. Maybe this is one reason why I'm having a hard time grasping his passing. How could someone who did so much to help others through laughter and charity, end his life like this?

I remember in one of my classes learning that the highest suicide rates were found in middle-aged, white males (45-64 years of age). I'm not sure why I found that surprising, but I did. We talked about how that age group might have more suicidal tendencies because individuals might look back on their life up to that point and not be satisfied by their path and progress, but then I think about someone like Robin Williams who achieved such greatness and admiration. I just don't understand.

There are many of Robin Williams' movies that I have never seen, but of the ones that I have seen, I think my favorite is still Mrs. Doubtfire. It is both funny and moving.



I love Williams' voicing of the Genie in Aladdin!



I like Good Will Hunting, although I still think I prefer Robin Williams in his funny, comedic roles.



I also really like Patch Adams.


 Who couldn't LOVE Lovelace from Happy Feet?



 While kind of dark, I really, really like What Dreams May Come. Watching it gave me so many things to think about and a different way of looking at things. This movie does an amazing job of pulling at so many different emotions. I hope Robin's heaven is everything he dreamed it would be.




I am so thankful for Robin Williams and for his talent, generosity, passion, and amazing sense of humor. A very bright star burned out today. Rest in peace, Robin Williams.

Muffie the Magnificent!!

A few weeks ago, we finally had to say good-bye to Muffie cat. We're not positive how old he was, but he was somewhere in the 12 to 13 year old range. Mufasa had a most adventurous life...

After I lost my precious cat Princess in my accident, I wanted another furry feline, but I needed to wait until I was healed, out of the dorms, and back into an apartment. In March 2002, someone told me about an animal shelter in Lubbock called The Haven. I excitedly visited The Haven one afternoon and looked for a female cat. I'm not sure why I wanted a female cat again, but I really did. Interestingly, when I went to the feline section of the shelter, there was a huge room connected to an outside covered porch area. I don't know how many cats there were, but my guess is there were somewhere between 50 and 60 cats roaming freely. There were so many cats to choose from! I was hoping as I walked around that one would call to me. Most of the cats were very friendly, and I knew choosing one was going to be hard. Then I noticed that there was a young cat with a pink collar over in cage by "herself." The cage was labeled "Mandy." I asked one of the attendants why Mandy was separated from the group, and she said Mandy had recently been vaccinated and had to be kept isolated. I thought that was interesting, but I didn't really question it further. I petted Mandy through the cage. She seemed a little irritated by the whole cage thing. That afternoon I really couldn't make up my mind, so I decided to leave, think about the different cats that caught my attention, and then come back the following week.

The following week I returned to the shelter. Like the previous week, Mandy was still the only cat isolated from the group. This time Mandy didn't stay curled up in the corner of her cage, so I was able to see that she didn't have a tail. I asked the attendant what happened to her tail, and she said she was probably injured as a kitten or something. Poor Mandy!! I spent a little time with Mandy, and decided she was the one! :) After I filled out the adoption paperwork and paid the fee, they brought Mandy out to me and one of the workers commented that he didn't understand why Mandy had a pink collar on because she was actually a HE. No wonder Mandy was disgruntled....she was a he, isolated alone in a cage with no tail! They asked me if I still wanted him (since I went in asking for a female cat), but by this time I couldn't put him back. I renamed Mandy to Mufasa, and we were on our way. 

The next few months with Mufasa were challenging at best. When I adopted him, they estimated he was about 8 months old. They didn't know his story other than he had been picked up off the street. At some point he must have lived with a family because he wasn't a feral cat, but I could tell he must have been an outdoor kitty which was very unfortunate because I was living in an apartment as a college student at the time. Even though I would give him ample food, he chose to dig in the trash. He would knock over the trash can and spread everything out! My roomie and I had to get really creative about how we handled the trash. Mufasa tried pulling up the carpet, destroying my bedding, and ruining the couch. While he had sweet qualities, I started calling him demon cat because he would run and jump on my back with his claws. It was really awful. I felt like I had made a huge mistake. I didn't feel like I could take him back to the shelter, but he was also more than I could handle. I called my Mom crying a number of times, and she would just listen. Now I understood why Muffie was kept separate!! I knew if I was going to keep Mufasa he would have to get declawed, but I also knew if I got him declawed, he was mine for the long haul. Finally after running out of bandaids (not really :)), I got him declawed. The vet told me declawing him might help with the aggression, but if nothing else, it would help with everyone else's safety!

As Mufasa got a little older, he calmed down some, but he was still a very active kitty. When I was reading over his paperwork, I saw that they put down that he was a Manx cat. I had never heard of Manx cats, but they are genetically born with either a partial tail or none at all. He was very unlike other cats I had been around. He was social, very active and fearless. He would just sit at the door and meow relentlless until I would let him out for a little bit. I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep him as a completely indoor kitty. He would sit on our porch and just watch the cars go by. Unfortunately he did get into a number of cat fights over the years. I became trained to hear his warning call. I really think a lot of the fights were provoked by him because he knew his momma would come running to break it up before it started. Sometimes I wouldn't hear him, and he would end up a little beat up. Because he didn't have claws, he was obviously at a disadvantage, but he still insisted on outside time. Needless to say, I've spent several hundreds at various vets for antibiotics, exams, etc. 

Becca and I tried taking Muffie to the park to help him satisfy his need for outdoor time, but you can tell by his ears how much he liked the leash at the park idea. :) 

When Devon and I got married, I moved into his apartment. We lived there for another year, and then once I finished school we decided to move to the Houston area. On moving day when the U-Haul pulled up, several of our neighbors, some of which we had never met, came over to say good-bye to MUFFIE. Apparently he had all of these relationships and friends that we didn't know about. One of our neighbors said they would let Muffie in for tuna. Another neighbor said Muffie would come over for cheese. Muffie never met a stranger. :)  

Once we moved down to the Houston area, Muffie enjoyed the suburban life of Pearland. He seemed to particularly like our covered front porch where he could sit and watch all of the action. As in the past, he would go in and out of the house. I was always very careful to look for him before pulling in or out of the garage, but for some reason one night when I was coming home with the boys, Muffie darted from the side, and I hit him while pulling into our garage. It was beyond horrible. I heard a loud ka-thud, and I knew immediately what had probably happened. I was just sure I had killed him. :(  I got out of the car and Muffie shot me this dagger look like "Why did you do that?!" Amazingly he was limping, and there was a little blood on his fur, but he still looked intact. I called my sister and asked if she would come over and watch the boys. Devon and I were able to find an emergency animal hospital open at 10pm at night, and we rushed Muffie there. It was a very, very bad feeling to know that I had hit my cat. Once we got him to the hospital they did x-rays, and the vet said miraculously the only damage he saw was that Mufasa's leg was dislocated from his hip. He said the femur head probably wouldn't be able to be popped back into place, but that our vet could do a femoral head ostectomy where they cut off the head of the femur, and scar tissue ends up forming a false joint. I was so happy that Muffie was going to be okay, and Devon and I were shocked that "Rocky" as we started calling him had dodged another bullet. If cats have 9 lives, this one used all 9 and then some!! Over $2000 later (thank goodness for summer school pay!), Muffie was on the mend and amazingly, a few months later he seemed almost as good as new.  I do think he slowed down some after that, but then again he was now over 10 years old. 

Muffie and his little sister Mia about 8 years ago. Mia was a very sickly cat and only lived a few years. Maybe they're running around playing now! 

Mufasa lived another 2 years after the meeting with my car and the last 8 years of his life here in Pearland. As in the past, he got to know the neighbors, and he would come in and out of the house. A few months ago, one of my neighbors told me that when he would walk to the mailbox in the evenings, Muffie would walk with him. Mufasa was always extremely patient with the boys, and I loved being greeted by Muffie when I came home. Muffie also insisted on sleeping right by me no matter how hot it was!

Muffie loved shoe boxes and suitcases. 

About 4-5 months ago, we noticed Muffie was rapidly losing weight, and he started throwing up multiple times daily. His demeanor changed, and he didn't seem himself anymore. After multiple trips to our wonderful vet, she determined that it was very likely that he had either stomach or intestinal cancer. She offered to send us to a specialist, but other than spending hundreds to thousands more on diagnostic tests and possible surgery, it wouldn't really change the grim prognosis or outcome. I was really torn because while in my gut I knew it was time to let him go, my heart was having a very hard time saying good-bye. I didn't want him to suffer needlessly, but it's so hard with animals because they can't tell you how they are feeling. Mufasa was such a strong cat and even after dislocating his leg, he didn't cry or meow. .With a heavy heart, I said good-bye to Muffie July 11th, 2014. Mufasa who was never much of a "lap cat" and who was typically kind of anxious in the vet office, let me hold him the hour we waited for the vet. He was very calm almost like he knew it was time. I still miss him terribly, and I keep thinking I'm hearing his little collar jingle. I am grateful for our time together, and I hope I get to see him again on the other side.