LUCKY, 2001-2020

 

Our last cat finally passed away today.   Lucky was 19 years when she died.   We called her Lucky because, well, she was.   We were going to the pet store to buy some food for our dog. Well, as luck would have it, as we walked into the store we noticed  a sign stating there was a cat adoption going on today.  So we took a peek.  “I’m just going to look dear,” I said to my wife.  Unfortunately for her, there was a litter of calicos.  I’ve loved calicos ever since college.  A girl that I roomed with had one and it was simply the sweetest cat.   So looking turned to pleading, which ended up in picking out a new cat.  I picked Lucky because she had a great pattern along with the blackest black fur and the whitest white fur.  I mean truly vivid colors.   We packed her up, bought some cat food and toys and off we went.  

We introduced her to the rest of our menagerie; Pip, our beloved Old English Sheepdog and Smokey our amazing cat.   She got on well with the two and comfortably settled into living in a house rather than a barn.  A few years later I was perusing the rescue animals and spotted another cat.   A green-eyed spotted beauty.  Well, after much conniving, I mean convincing, we went to pick up Misty from the East Haven pound.   She was a fantastic cat with an amazing personality.   But, she did not get along with Lucky.  She fought with her, bullied her and generally made life miserable for Lucky.   So Lucky ended up withdrawing from the menagerie and moved into our bedroom, underneath the bed.  And that is where she would while away the day.  No amount of persuasion would get her out.  Ok, no problem.  Then after a few years she suddenly decamped from our bedroom and relocated to the basement.   Since we kept the litter boxes, food and the water dispenser there, she was pretty much in cat heaven.   Yeah, I would find her by the sunny window in the morning, but then she would scurry down to the basement.   

Even after Smokey and Misty passed, she stayed there.  Then one day, a few months ago, lo and behold, Lucky moved back upstairs.  She literally removed herself from her self imposed exile.   My wife moved her bed to the top of the basement steps and positioned the baby gate so she could come and go without the dogs getting at her food.  She started hanging with Daisy and Beau, our two Shiloh Shepherds.   They would lie together, play together, nap together.  She even tolerated when they groomed, pawed and licked her.   She would jump onto the couch and sit with us.  Everything a normal cat would do.   Every morning I would find her by the window sitting in the sun.  She became Lucky again.

 

But she started to lose weight and slowly began to  lose control of her limbs.  They would drag and she had a hard time sitting.   She also stopped grooming herself.  But, she still had an appetite and ate like a horse and was always drinking water.   Still, a good sign.  Yesterday, when my wife and I came home after running errand all three of my brood greeted us at the door.  It was so moving.   Last night we had her on the couch petting her and rubbing her ears.  She was happy sitting between us but seemed unable to climb onto my wife’s lap.   This morning I went downstairs to make coffee and she was no where to be seen.  I looked downstairs into the basement and she was lying there breathing hard.  We took her upstairs, put her in her bed and called the vet.   Twenty minutes later, she took her last breath and was gone.   

So today has been kind of blue.   The house feels emptier.  It is a little out of balance.  The dogs seem sad and downhearted.   They have been sniffing around the house looking for her.  We gave her a warm, safe, secure and loving house and I’m grateful for the time she had with us.    

The Masked Shopper

Today was the first day I ventured out under the new Connecticut state guidelines for going to the grocery store.  This entailed the “suggestion” of wearing a mask in public.  Well, I didn’t want to get “mask shamed” if I showed up without one, so my wife spent the better part of last night sewing a mask from old bandanas.  She found a Youtube video and created a few prototypes.  This author had a macabre sense of humor because the mask that she was touting literally would not stay on my head. Or my wife’s.    Now my wife is pretty clever and knows her way around a sewing machine but this design was next to useless.    I suggested a few elastic straps and voila, a mask that stays on your head.  She also incorporated a layer of cotton batting in between the folds of the mask as well.  Will that extra layer of protection work?  Who knows but it sounds good.  

So I get to the store, don my gloves and put my mask on.  Great.  Two months ago if I showed up looking like that at the store, I would have been promptly arrested and charged with attempted robbery, today I’m greeted with open arms. Well, not real open arms, more of the virtual kind.   My, have times changed.   To keep the flow of traffic going and encourage social distancing the aisles are now one way, with HUGE arrows on the floor directing the flow of traffic and signs everywhere telling you to keep at least six feet between you and the next person.  Pretty easy to follow right?  Wrong!  Remember I’m going at six in the morning during old people hours and for some reason, the old people are not quite grasping this concept.  More than likely it is because of the masks.  Whereas the mask that my wife made looked pretty good on the surface, there were a few design flaws that I detected.  

1. I could barely breath.  So maybe the other old masked people were oxygen starved and couldn’t figure out the signs or directions.  and
2. I couldn’t see.  The mask I was wearing was fogging up my glasses. Most of the other people in my age bracket were wearing glasses and perhaps they were blinded as well.

So here we are, gasping for breath and unable to see, careening around the store trying to find food.  It really was a sight to behold, providing that you could see.   I had a list but because of my current state of limited vision and low oxygen, I’m pretty much  stumbling from aisle to aisle just throwing stuff into my cart.  Okay, there is a can of something, it resembles corn, it could be tomato paste, I’ll sort it out when I get home.  This bag feels like coffee, maybe it’s dried pinto beans, so into the cart.   This could be yogurt or perhaps it’s cottage cheese.  Into the cart.  

I was cruising down one aisle and stopped dead in the middle of the aisle was a guy on a scooter.  He had a boot on his leg so I felt some pity, but that soon turned to anger and then rage when he picked something off the shelf and examined it for a minute or two then moved two feet forward picked something else off the shelf and took his sweet time contemplating that purchase.  And again, and again.  WTF, we were instructed that if we  touch it, it’s ours!  Finally we get to the end of the aisle and he turns right.  I gleefully turn left and continue.  Maybe his broken ankle has caused him diminished capacity or maybe, he is just a jerk.  I think this is peanut butter, but maybe it’s mayonnaise. Sugar? Flour? Into the cart, I’ll figure it out when I get home.  

Finally I’m done so it’s off to the check out.  Aisle 9 is the designated aisle for waiting for a register to open.  I cruise down the aisle with some lady whose is now tailgating me.  I stop in the middle of the aisle to brake check her and she almost rear ends me.  I turn around and scowl at her, but since the mask covered my face and my glasses were fogged up I’m not sure she got the message.  Thankfully she somehow figured out my displeasure and retreats to a safe distance.  The cashier motions me over, I check out, she tells me how many gas points I have, which doesn’t do me any good because gas could be free and I still have no where to go and nothing to do when I get there.  

I leave the store, rip off the mask, and take the first full gulp of air that I’ve had in 45 minutes.  Ah!   My oxygen starved brain begins to function. My eye sight returns. I look at some of the items that I bought and wonder why the hell did I buy a bag of pinto beans?  I finish loading the car and make my getaway. 

 Home! I think I’m in the clear, but my wife saw something on the news about decontaminating the food so I unload everything onto the counter and she starts wiping things down with homemade cleaners with such vigor that if I didn’t know better I would have thought that she was a former employee of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.  I’m so stressed I throw my clothes in the hamper, put my sweats on and crawl back into bed.  Grocery shopping has never been so stressful.  

Corona Shopping Hours At Stop And Shop

My wife and I decided to venture out into the great abyss this morning.  It was a tough decision.   We had to leave the comfort and security of our  home to go to “the over 60 only” time bloc at  Stop and Shop.  It wasn’t a decision we made  lightly.  But since we were  running low on  a few necessities we made the move.  Wake up, throw some clothes on and out the door.  I figured that it would be a quick in and out and then we would scurry home to our lair.  Wrong!  We pull into the parking lot and the place is packed.  It’s like the early bird special at the 99 House.  Every person over 60 from a 20 mile radius is jockeying for position in the parking lot.  It’s dark and rainy this morning.  Some of these elderly people have trouble parking their car correctly on a dry sunny day.   Oi vey. My blood pressure is starting to rise and I haven’t even left the car.  My wife finds a space far away from everyone because she needs to social distance her new car from some jerk who doesn’t know how to open a car door without smashing their door into her car.  

I walk into the store, snap on a pair of surgical gloves  as if I’m going to waltz into the operating room and perform open heart surgery, grab a cart and tentatively enter the store.  I’m immediately greeted by a guy passing out packs of  12 rolls of toilet paper. Sure, let me have one please.  The guy offers me two but I decline.  Unlike the asshole dude in front of me that took six packs.  Six packs?   Seventy-two rolls of toilet paper?  Their must be a lot of assholes in that family!  We split up the list.  Fruit, veggies, tea yogurt, and bread for me.  My wife handles the deli counter.   I try to social distance myself by trying to avoid people which proves to be absolutely impossible given the fact that the aisles are narrow and if someone dares to stop and ponder their purchase they create a choke point preventing people from passing.  Sigh!   

Their organic produce section is sparse on a good day and this is definitely  not a good day.  I do score some berries, but fail with the lettuce.  Oh well, conventional romaine will have to do.   The tea aisle is barren so I can take my time.  Some English Breakfast and green tea.  Perfect.  I am trying to navigate through the store and remain a safe distance from everyone but this proves to be fruitless.  People stop in the middle of the aisle to check their lists,  stop to chat, or just have a senior moment!   Really?  Keep your freakin’ distance.  What is it with these people?  I detour down the greeting card aisle and gaze at the Get Well Soon section.  Oh oh, not a whole lot of those cards left.  Now it’s off to the bread section.  Rows of empty shelves greet me.  I find the last two loaves of seeded rye bread.  I place one into my cart and contemplate getting the other one.  That’s until some lady sidles up to me and starts pawing the other loaf.  I quickly social distance my ass towards the yogurt.  None of my favorite goat yogurt is left so I maneuver my way towards to deli counter.  It’s like an obstacle course.  People stopping, chatting, or just standing staring off into space.  I finally find my wife waiting patiently at the deli counter.  They finally call our number we get our Swiss cheese and sliced chicken and hightail it to the registers.

And here the fun begins.  People banging their carts against one another while standing asshole to elbow.  No social distancing here.  I’m on the lookout for anyone who is coughing, sneezing, or wiping their noses.  Thankfully all is quiet.  We quickly check out and my wife realizes she lost her quadruple point gas coupon.  Oh well, too bad, but we really don’t need a whole lot of gas because there is pretty much no where to go.  Except for Stop and Shop. I snap off my gloves, load the car and we light out of there.  Back to our lair to start our day of social isolation.