Women made the best beekeepers, ’cause they have a special ability built into them to love creatures that sting. It comes from years of loving children and husbands.
Unknown
Arizona is hot and humid; therefore, the only way to make it through the summers is to either stay indoors with the AC on full blast or find a puddle of water to swim in. A friend of mine invited me to go to Lake Pleasant with her and try out our paddle boards on Sunday; I was all in. I could not wait to get on the water, have girl time, and work on my tan. I packed up her car, and on the way, we were.
When we got there, we realized parking would be a bit more difficult than expected as everything is in the dirt, up hills, or down by the water. We drove around for a bit before finding a spot in between and didn’t have to worry about her car accidentally going into the lake. We were very happy to find out her car was 4-wheel drive as it was a must-have.
She took out her electric pump to blow up her paddle board, and I took out my hand pump and got to work. I noticed my board was getting firmer and firmer, but the PSI amount did not look as though it was quite where it needed to be, so I kept pumping. I also realized that my arms weren’t tired yet, so I assumed that meant I could not be close to pumping it up. Well, I was wrong. Within seconds of these thoughts, my board popped from having too much air, and at the same time, I was stung by a bee. All my friends heard was a pop and an “AWEEEE… What the….”. They turned and saw me jumping up and down holding my butt. They looked at me very puzzled and asked what I was doing. I said, “I think I just got stung by a bee. Do you see anything?”
I let my friend know that if we weren’t good friends before, we would be as it was now up to her to look at the lower part of my butt cheek to see if it was red or swollen. She laughed and told me it was a little red but not too bad. I spent the rest of the day at the lake in the water or just sitting on the front of her paddle board as we cruised around. The next day, however, I had several bumps from where I was stung, and my shoulders had hand-printed sun burns on them from my unsuccessful attempt to put sunscreen on. All in all, it was still a good day. We saw a fish at one point, so I caught it with my bare hand. I have always wanted to do that, and now I can say I have done it.
Moral: 1) Don’t overfill your paddleboard. 2) Ask for help if you can’t get sunscreen to cover your whole back. 3) Surround yourself with good people; you can never have a bad time.
A true fan doesn’t just root for thier team, they invest thier emotions in it.
Bill Simmons
August 31, 2023, started as any typical day. I went to work and came home to get ready for the season opening Arizona State University (ASU) football game. I admit, I was a bit bummed about going because I was supposed to do Glow in the Dark Axe Throwing that day. But as a hard-core Sun Devils Fan, I could not let the team down by not being there to support our new Coaches and an outstanding group of new players getting their introduction to playing in front of our rambunctious crowd. We had just recruited a freshman quarterback who could throw 50 yard bullets, which I was anxious to see after last year’s dink and dunk offense. My dad and I geared up, put our game faces on, and continued to make our way to the light rail with the endless possibilities of what could happen that night floating in our heads.
After kickoff, we were able to score our first touchdown within the first 6 minutes. Things were looking up. The crowd was cheering, thinking this year would be our year. After a few more minutes, we picked up another touchdown, 14-0. Our defense was on fire, we held Southern Utah at the one-yard line for three attempts, but they finally broke free and scored.
Then, out of nowhere, everyone’s phones started going off with weather alerts to inform us of a dust storm in the area and to take precautions. We all laughed because we had already seen the dust roll onto the field, with trash flying everywhere and even getting caught in spectators’ hair. The announcers let us know the game could be delayed, and they kept an eye on the weather reports. I could barely make out the players on the field through all the dust, but I did clearly see our 47-yard touchdown pass on 4th down and 8. My mouth dropped open in disbelief, but I quickly got it together and was more pumped than ever. Then the inevitable was announced during halftime: the game was being delayed due to the weather and possible thunderstorms, and it would resume when it could. Others were evacuating their seats to seek cover to escape the dust, thunder, and rainfall during that time. Others remained dancing in the rain. It warmed my heart to see at least 300 people were so dedicated to supporting our Sun Devils as my dad and I that we waited 2 hours before resuming the game. I enjoyed taking in the weather’s view from under the upper deck canopy from which we were sitting, enjoying not having a care in the world. I was proud to be able to say I survived the haboob (new weather term for a Dust Storm) to see my Devils play, which is not something most people will ever be able to say as this type of thing has never in all the years the Sun Devils have been playing football.
The game resumed at 10 PM and ended at around 1 AM on a Friday. I got home at 2 AM. I am pleased to say we won 24-21. Luckily, there was no security checking tickets on the light rail at 1 in the morning because most of the riders had purchased roundtrip tickets for Saturday and we boarded on Sunday. I earned my actual fan pin that day. No one can ever question my loyalty. I made it very clear I am a Sun Devil fan through and through, and nothing will stop me from being there for my team and alma mater.
Moral: 1) Be open to the unexpected. 2) True Fans are there no matter the circumstances, weather or won-loss record.
When it was time to pick out a dress for my brother’s wedding, a fly on the wall would have thought it was my mom and I getting ready for my ceremony. We spent months trying to find the perfect dress for the most spectacular event of a lifetime. My mother spent hours poring over website after website, trying to find one that would be a tea party dress and summer heat comfortable. We tried to find the dresses she found online at stores, only to find out the stores were no longer accepting real-life customers, only virtual ones. My mother hadn’t worn a fancy dress in over 20 years, so this dress had to be perfect. Eventually, she found one that made her look even more stunning than she already does regularly.
As for me, I had some dresses in my closet that I thought might want to come out and play, but I also looked online to see if anything caught my eye. I had settled on a pink flower dress I felt was made for weddings or easter dinners. When it arrived, I took it out to see how I felt. I gave it an A-. Then, a few days before leaving for the wedding, my mom reminded me I had my beautiful prom dress from my junior year in high school. Mom and I have worked hard since November 2022 to improve our eating habits. As a result, we have each lost about 50 pounds. With that in mind, we thought it might fit; I have been lugging it around for 20 years because I just couldn’t let it go. I was scared when placing the dress over my head, thinking maybe this time I would rip it and the dress would be gone forever. After a few seconds of deep breathing and repeating my mantra, “I am beautiful and strong no matter what comes,” I pulled the dress down. It fit better than it had ever fit. I was practically glowing. I couldn’t stop smiling. I love that dress, and now the world could see me in it.
Later that evening after the ceremony and beautiful reception, many people were going out to continue the celebration. I decided to seize the day with them. When I arrived at the bar, it was evident that I had not been to one in some time. When the bouncer asked for the $5 cover charge, I replied, “What, no ladies’ night tonight?” He then stared at me for what seemed like an eternity but was properly only 5 seconds, and requested to see my ID. I explained that I had just come from a wedding and did not have my purse with money or an ID. I tried convincing him that everyone in the bar could vouch for my age, but if he needed to, I was okay with a wristband stating, “Only Serve Water.” He kindly let me know that is not how it works. If someone looks under 35, they must be carded, and he did not believe I looked older than 35. I thanked him for saying I looked younger than I was. Giving up, I got the attention of my family, who were partying in the bar, and told them I was sorry but wouldn’t be able to hang out. They laughed and told me to wait just a moment. The person who was the ordained minister for the wedding worked at the bar and could waive the cover charge and walk me in. I breathed a sigh of relief and was glad this happened in a small, friendly town.
Moral: 1) Always have your wallet and phone on you because you never know what fun adventures await around the bend. 2) Spread kindness like a disease because you never know who you might encounter. 3) If something as simple as a dress means something to you, don’t feel bad for keeping it, as you might be wearing it again one day. 4) Embrace the unknown.
“If you ever get locked out of your house talk to your lock calmly as communication is key.”
Unknown
I am sure many of you can relate to being locked out, whether locked out of your car, home, office, laptop, etc. It can be beyond frustrating, as I recently learned. My parents and I walk to get mail daily from the community mailboxes located about 5 minutes away from the house. When we leave, we ensure the front door is locked, as there have been issues in our community with stolen packages and burglaries. We don’t want to take any chances of someone walking into our home. My dad usually grabs the keys and exits after me to lock the door. My dad was out of town, so my mom and I just ventured out for the mail. I was half out the door when I remembered I needed to lock it, so I stepped back and engaged the lock. As the door swung shut, I knew I had forgotten the essential thing, the keys. I mumbled, “Oh shit,” as the door slammed and locked. My mom knew what I had done. She frantically searched her pockets for her cell phone but realized she had left it in the house. I didn’t think I needed a phone for our little mail run. So there I was, standing in our courtyard dressed in fuzzy shorts and a Love-Up t-shirt I planned to sleep in. I actually thought if only my cat inside our home could save me.
In a panic, I went to one of our neighbors and asked if they knew how to break into a home, but she did not. I asked for the next best thing, “May I borrow your cell phone to call a locksmith.” She agreed. While our beloved neighbor and my mom contacted countless locksmith companies to no avail, I went looking for the security guard who roams the neighborhood to ensure that the parking rules are followed and that the pool gates are not propped open for outsiders to enter restricted areas. I also asked a few passer buyers if they knew anything about getting into a home because I was locked out. Of course, people laughed and gave me some weird stares, but none had the hidden talent to break into my house. I felt safer knowing some of my neighbors could never rob me, but it didn’t change that we were locked out. Another neighbor even gave us his key to see if it would work on our door. It was a very kind gesture.
The results of the first 35 minutes of locksmith calls were that we would have to wait until the morning due to high demand. We reminded them we didn’t have any money for a hotel as it is all inside, so unless they were going to pay for a hotel for us, the only option would be to sleep outside on the patio, which was not an approved option. Eventually, a locksmith had an apprentice willing to help, but it would be another half hour. We had been stuck outside for almost an hour, so another half hour seemed tolerable.
When a person arrived to “save us.” I asked if he would let us in, and he replied, “Yes, but it would cost 5,000 dollars.” All color drained from my mother’s face, and he assured her he was joking. I told him we may not have that kind of money, but we could get him 50-yard line tickets for an ASU football game. He smiled and said he might take me up on that. However, when he got to the door, I heard a, “Oh shit.” He turned and said our door and lock are almost impossible to break into without cutting a hole in the door to get the lock off.
He attempted many ways to open it for the next hour without success. We told him we couldn’t go thru the windows or sliding glass side doors because they were double pane. He asked if he could remove his shirt because he was sweating and getting very unnerved about his effort to open our door. He assured us he had a tank top under the shirt. We had a few laughs trying to lighten up our distressing situation while our apprentice was sweating more than I thought possible for a human being. We three women agreed that he could remove his shirt, but that was it. We didn’t call for a stripper Locksmith. I had trouble shaking the thought that we would lose the door.
After twenty more minutes of trying to pick the lock, he asked about the upstairs window. I told him I didn’t think it was locked as I don’t lock my bedroom window. He smiled and replied he hoped I was right and went to grab his ladder. He climbed up as he worked on getting the window screen off; I laughed and said, “This is not how I imagined a man would enter my room. I always imagined I would be in the room and at least know him.” Nothing goes as it seems with me, and this was a first-time experience I was sure to remember. He laughed and apologized for not bringing his boom box, and with that, he climbed into my room. He smiled out the window, letting me know he loved my room and the personality it showed.
When he let us in, he walked outside to get the paperwork for us to sign for payment, and we got our debit card to pay him. He stood outside the now open door explaining the amount. My mom laughed and reminded him he had already been in our home and was welcome to come in while we paid the bill. It ended up being way less than 5000 dollars. He gathered his supplies, returned to the door, and asked for my number. I was flattered, seeing as I am 36, and the man who let us in was 23.
My dad’s reaction was to put a new fingerprint lock on the front door. Okay, I don’t need to worry about forgetting a key anymore, but what about losing a finger to a desperate burglar hanging around the mailboxes.
Moral: 1) Never leave home without the keys. 2) Always have a backup plan. 3) Get to know some of your neighbors; you never know when you need their help. 4) Learn not to replace one worry with another.
They say love hides behind every corner, I must be walking in a circle.
Don’t find love. Let love find you. That is why it is called falling in love because you don’t force yourself to fall, you just fall.
Unknown
Love. We all need it, want it, and are, sometimes, afraid of it. Love often seems unattainable, but we forget we already have it. We have it for ourselves, friends, family, pets, nature, etc. We also received it. However, at times it doesn’t seem enough. There is still that elusive ” one ” that seems just out of reach. The “one” that everyone talks about, not knowing who they are, but just knowing they are out there. My favorite philosopher, Steve Martin, says, “There’s someone out there for everyone, even if you need a pickaxe, a compass, and night goggles to find them.” While there is enjoyment in being single, there may be times we wish those around us were right; someone would show up to laugh, love and build a life.
We go on various dating apps, blind dates, speed dating, and events for singles. Some even ask for spiritual guidance. I am guilty of dabbling in dating apps in the past, such as Match.com, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, and eHarmony. The one thing all those apps had in common was that connecting with someone I had never met over a chat line was harder than I thought. I would exchange a decent message with someone, and then they send me dick pics. My dating standards were high when I started the apps. Afterward, it was simple; if the guy doesn’t send me a dick pic, he is way ahead of the rest. I decided apps were not for me.
I have tried speed dating at Phoenix Fan Fusion. This was more my speed. It was nice to meet someone dressed as a character, as it took some of the pressure off. I went on a few dates and am still friends with one of the people I met there, so I consider it a win.
For fun, I decided to try an online tarot card reader and a woman who draws up people you should end up with. As you can tell from the photos above, both had very different ideas about what my person was supposed to look like. One said he would have the initials VA and I would meet him in a shopping mall in July. He was supposed to work in a high position in marketing. Which, I suppose, could be an advertising executive or a second-floor telemarketer.
The other noted the initials would have the initials DJ and I would meet him around my birthday next year. The second one was to have some financial issues and may rely on me or others for money. It could be the guy holding a sign at the off-ramp, “Scream at a Bum- 50 Cents a minute.” Both stated that the man I was to meet would enjoy traveling and adventures.
They noted that I was the only one causing the relationship not to happen, as I had to let go of my past to move forward. I get daily emails and text messages now telling me that I need to call and talk to my tarot card reader as there are a lot of things I need to know about, such as the man I am supposed to be with is holding on to a secret and is afraid of what I might think. I have been told someone still wants to be together, but it might not be my wisest choice. I have been told to spray myself daily with the leftovers from a melted candle and aroma therapy that smells like honey roses. I have been told to say my intuitions about the person I want to meet to get them out in the universe. I have even bought the twin flame stone I was told would help me find the person I work best with. It was a fun experiment, but I would suggest meeting with a tarot card reader in person; that way, you get everything you are asking for all at once, and you won’t get bombarded daily with more flim-flam offers.
Ultimately, I think it is best to remain oneself while still getting out into the world: volunteer in an organization or charity, join a book club or sports team, travel, and attend art gallery openings, concerts, sporting events, and church meetings. Meeting people in person that share your interests and beliefs is a good off-line place to start.
Moral: There is no secret to finding love; just be, and it will come.
I never suggest you were a bad driver. I’m sure that mailbox totally served into your lane.
Unknown
Driving is often seen as a rite of passage and one way for a teen to feel less like a child and more like an adult. With driving comes an immense amount of responsibility, which seems irrelevant in time. I know when I first started driving, I was all about following every rule in the book; driving the exact speed limit, no more, no less; stopping at a stop sign for a full 5 seconds; and not listening or talking to anyone on my cell phone, even with hands-free capabilities.
Over time, I realized that most drivers, including my father, do not feel like the driving rules apply to them. Because of bemoaning aggravation with me going the exact speed limit, I started going five over because they said that was acceptable. I stopped waiting at the stop sign for 5 seconds and instead would stop, look both ways and be off. This was referred to as the California stop, which only made sense that I followed that rule living in California. I started to become more attached to my phone, especially when I started work. Every call was important and could not be missed. I lost sight that driving is not just about me but about everyone in the car with me and everyone around me on the road. One moment of distinction could mean anything from a few scratches on my vehicle to a traumatic accident that could end up on the news with several severely injured or dead.
I learned that driving when angry was never a good idea because the one time I did that in high school, I skidded on the road because I gassed the pedal a little too aggressively and spun the car around, ending up in the middle of the median facing the wrong way. I was terrified and thankful not to be hurt, and even more thankful no one else was involved. I was able to turn the car around, pull over to the side of the road, and call my parents to come to get me because I was in no mental shape to drive home.
In 2020, I ran over a motorcycle that slid in front of my car when the driver decided to race his friends on a main street and clipped the car behind me as he was attempting to go in the middle of the lane to pass them. I was shaken to my core when I heard a clunk as my car rode over a “bump.” I thought I had run over a body, killed the man, and could go to jail for the rest of my life. Thankfully, it was just the front wheel of the motorcycle. The man I was told decided to start wearing his helmet a few days earlier. He ended up in the hospital for a few days with a few broken bones and a few scratches; he was able to walk out of the hospital, but not without a hefty fine.
In 2021, My mom and I witnessed, from our rearview mirror, a man flying up in the air and landing mangled on the ground. He was riding his motorcycle without a helmet and decided to challenge the stop light to a duel. He lost. He ran the red light and hit a car pulling out of our gated community right into the middle of their front bumper. The man was noted later to have been going about 90 miles an hour on a 50-mile-an-hour road when he ran the light and hit the car. Whether it was the fault of the lady driving the car or not, I’m sure seeing him fly over the windshield and the bike into the window will haunt her forever.
A month ago, a man attempted to avoid the traffic and take a shortcut through my gated community; however, he forgot a 15-mile-an-hour speed limit was put in place for a reason. This man forgot that where there are homes, children occasionally ride bikes, roller skate, challenge each other to races, play soccer, etc.; all activities the street provides a better surface for. He forgot houses were also a major stable in gated communities. In his haste to show everyone he could get to his destination the fastest, he raised the stakes and decided a better speed limit was 35 miles an hour. He saw children playing soccer and slammed on his brakes; the children scrambled as fast as their little legs could take them. His car scrambled too. It ricocheted into and over the curb, slid sideways across the gravel landscape, back out and across the vacated soccer field street, through the side yard fence, and into the house. Yes, into the house, stopping next to the dining room table. Luckily the residents had just finished breakfast, and no one was hurt. The driver is now and will forever be known in our neighborhood as Bumper Bucking Carl. The driver had an Arizona Rodeo license plate with the name CARL.
Morals: 1) Always wear a helmet when on a motorcycle. 2) Obey the speed limits; they are there for a reason. 3) Always remember driving is not a video game and needs to be done with the utmost care and responsibility. 4) Don’t be Bumper Bucking Carl.
This blog is a bit different from my last one. I recently found the capstone I wrote for my Masters. As it is still relevant today, I decided to share it. All you have to do is click on the document and scroll down to read the entire content.
Moral: Never stop caring; Even the smallest of actions make a difference.
Everyone’s favorite leisure activity – working around the house. Unfortunately, no matter how big or small the project, it never seems to go as smoothly as anticipated. It’s like hitting the light switch, the bulb pops, and the closet is dark. No Problemo, you think, it will just take a moment to fix. Then you look all over for the bulbs, and not finding any, you head off to the store. You get to the checkout and realize you left your wallet in your other purse, so you head back home to get it. An hour later, your two-minute ‘No Problemo’ is finished. Our most recent family project consisted of trying to decipher what was causing the water stain in the living room ceiling. Luckily, the water never dripped on the living room floor; but there was an ugly 3’ discoloration on the ceiling drywall.
First: The initial diagnosis was that the water must come from the second-floor laundry room. Since the washer had not overflowed and there was no sign of water on the floor or stains on the walls, the water to the washer had been turned off for two months at the first sighting of the staining without further damage, it must be the washer’s drain line. So, for two months while we used the washer and dryer in the main floor laundry set up, we plotted out the anticipated steps to cut open the ceiling under the drain, fix either the elbow where the drain turns to head toward the main drain or a crack or nail hole in the drainpipe. Then cut out and repair the stained section at a drywall joint about 4 feet from the drain. Easy peasy.
Since it was going to take a few days to cut, repair, replace, texture, and paint, the furniture in the living room needed to be moved to make room for the scaffolding to be set up to reach the ten-foot ceiling. Not moved willy nilly, but moved so that half of the room could be plastic wrapped to keep the drywall dust confined and, at the same time, we could watch the Suns games in between reruns of the Gilmore Girls.
Then the fun began: A 16” by 16” hole was cut into the ceiling where the drain was plotted to be. Luckily, it was right there. We ran a few loads of wash through the wringer but did not find any drain pipes leaking. No loose elbows, cracks, or nail holes with water dripping or damping. So we cut a bigger hole so we could get a better view of the entire space between floors. Everyone climbed the ladder to get on the scaffolding and check for themselves. I had never seen so many disappointed faces when it was discovered there was no leak. Whatever caused the water damage seemed to have vanished. We had the worst rains in years the day before we punched the hole, we thought that could have been the problem, but nope. No recent damage was found.
Finally: After all of the plotting and planning, the only thing we hadn’t thought of was not finding anything to fix but what we tore up. Dad put bracing between the rafters so that he could just screw back in place the pieces of drywall he cut out. From my vantage point, it seemed to go quite smoothly. Unfortunately, due to the builder’s white paint no longer being produced, a trip to the hardware store was needed to get enough paint to paint the whole ceiling, not just the patched up area, and to buy tape and texture to hide the gaps and screws. Before my dad took off, my mom asked, “What is that light coming from the ceiling?” “I don’t remember it doing that before.”
My dad chuckled and said, “Honey, ceilings don’t glow.”
He again started to open the garage door to head out when my mom said, “I know that, but I think you should see this.”
He sighed and casually walked over to the living room, looked up and back down, and started to walk away when he immediately turned around again and chuckled, “Big Larry?” “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it; I left the flashlight in the ceiling.”
Thus, the unanticipated new project of removing the drywall jigsaw pieces so methodically put together to retrieve “Big Larry,” who was still shining brightly. I wonder how long it would have taken my dad to miss Big Larry and remember the last time he used it and then thought, “No, I couldn’t have left it sitting on the rafter next to the washer drain line shining North across the crawlspace. Nah”
Moral: 1.) Always check that all tools are accounted for before finishing a job. 2) It is true “the woman is always right.”
Sometimes you have to give yourself a pep talk like, “Hello you badass warrior, don’t be sad, you are doing great.”
Unknown
As promised a few blogs ago, I will tell you how I was able to keep the piece of my skull that my surgeon, Dr. Smith, cut out to implant an RNS device (Responsive Neurostimulation for Seizures). It all started many years ago; just kidding. When I was told that a piece of my skill bone would be cut out and not be replaced, I decided to get excited that I could keep it rather than have recurring nightmares that a part of me was finding a new life in a hospital dumpster. I started to think about different ways to display it, such as making it into a piece of jewelry, a finger skateboard, or an artistic display piece. At the end of a long consult, I forgot to ask the doctor if I could keep it, so I contacted the office the next day. Then I was told, “No, it’s a biohazard, and you probably can’t keep it.”
“But it’s my biohazard.” The response was a few chuckles. I hung up the phone in disbelief. I was not ready to give up the fight though. I asked a few more times and was told by various people that it was not likely that I would be able to keep the piece of my skull. However, on 1/25/2023, everything changed. When the doctor’s assistant pulled the curtain back to mark the right side of my head with his initials to ensure the right side of the skull was being cut out, I asked again about being able to keep the piece. He laughed and told me how it gets chiseled out, and there is really nothing to keep.
” So, you just throw it in the trash?”
“Yes,” he replied.
I turned and within inches of his serious expression, I made the biggest sad face an adult can make and spoke in a choking whisper, “So you will throw me in the trash.” He laughed and told me he would talk to my surgeon to see what they could do. I thanked him.
When surgery was over and they were rolling a groggy me into the recovery room, I heard the out-of-focus assistant say, “You can keep it.” I smiled and felt a calmness pass through me. When I was finally completely mindful, the nurses told me it would take a few days to clean and sterilize the bone and prepare paperwork for its return to the rightful owner. As promised, I picked it up from the doctor’s office a few days later. I could not believe it was the whole piece that was sawn out and not fragments as previously suggested.
I originally wanted to make the small slivers that I envisioned into earrings, but after holding the 2 ½ inch by ¾ inch slab of my skull bone, I realized the earrings were out of the question. As a result, I made it into a necklace. I figure there is no better conversation starter.
“What is that?”
“A piece of my skull.”
It will shorten the process of making new friends. You either find my whimsicalness charming or alarming. Either way, I have a unique story and want to remind myself of where I have been and how far I have come.
Moral: If you make the best of every moment; photos, songs, souvenirs, and possibly a bone necklace will remind you of those significant times.
It has been two years since my beloved cat, Cutie, passed. I’m ready for a new four-legged friend. The family got involved with searching for the best indoor companion with a friendly personality and all indicators pointed toward a Ragamuffin. Since the breed was not available at any shelters in Arizona or California, the inquiries turned to breeders. At $1200 and you get what breeder chooses, we decided it was best to adopt another all-American kitten. Countless hours were spent online looking at kittens on adoptapet.com, and emails were sent out for more information. Finally, we decided to go to Lost Our Home in Tempe, AZ, to check out Zoey.
Lost Our Home is a nonprofit organization where pets are brought because the owners are sick, deceased, moving, abusive, or the animal was abandoned. The bottom line is that the domesticated animals have no humans to care for them due to unforeseen circumstances.
Zoey was one of the animals found in the streets along with her sister and dropped off at the shelter. Had we been 20 minutes earlier, we would have adopted Zoey and her sister, but alas, we were just a little too late.
When we arrived, Zoey was in her cage, resting from being spayed the day prior. When the cage door was open, I let her smell my hand and she immediately nuzzled against it. The shelter volunteers indicated that she was extremely shy, but easy to warm up once she feels comfortable. She let me pet her for a while but did not want to leave the cage to be held. In all fairness, who feels like getting up or running around and playing 24 hours after surgery. She seemed happy, content, and attentive with me petting her and I felt the same way.
After completing the adoption paperwork, it was time to let her check out her new forever home. At first, she was not a fan of being placed in the bubble backpack. She sprawled her legs apart the width of the backpack as we tried to set her in it, but once we got her legs together and her body into the bag, she immediately laid down and let me zip the backpack up. She meowed a few times in the car on the way home, but once I started to pet her, she began to purr and curl up inside the bag even more. Once we got home and the bag was opened, it took a few minutes before she jumped out and let me bring her to my room to look around.
She spent most of the first day behind a metal desk sign I had sitting on my dresser. She would step out for pets but go back behind my desk sign after 2 or 3 seconds. The next day she wasted no time getting the lay of the land. She continues to follow me around the house and purrs non-stop. She has met a few family members and a good friend of mine. It took a few minutes, but she would warm up to them and let them pet her. She enjoys watching television and playing video games with me on my iPad. We got a cat tree that I didn’t realize would take some engineering skills to put together, but we got it done in 2 hours flat. At first, she only played with the ball dangling from the second platform a few times during the night, but now she enjoys using it to look out the window and laugh at the drivers hitting the speed bump in front of our house. Her favorite spot is curled up on me, which I don’t mind as it gives me an excuse to stay put and not complete household chores my mother claims are mine.
What I am most impressed with is her ability to learn the house rules so quickly. We have not had issues with her scratching furniture because the few times she used the ottoman to stretch her paws out, we were able to say “No” or pick her up and put her on the scratching pad with no further issues. She is rarely on the kitchen chairs because we have told her “No,” and she has jumped down. She has yet to jump on my bathroom sink and ask for water like my other love, Cutie, did.
I am looking forward to the new adventures we will have together that include bike riding, walking around the neighborhood, and getting dressed up for Halloween and other cat holidays.
Moral: 1) Change can be a good thing. 2) Unconditional love is something to be cherished.
Lady Z's MisAdventures 