Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Sunday, January 12, 2025

Baylie's Story

Baylie's Story

(Content: A long, happy life, and a peaceful passing.)


Baylie was my second-ever cat. She was born in 2000 and came to us in 2003. This is her story.

Spring, 2003: Our previous cat, Darlyn, who had been in the family since I was eight years old, had just passed. I was now 22, a senior in college, and devastated to lose my little guy. I told my mom I wanted to adopt a cat from the Humane Society. She agreed, saying the next weekend that I came home from college, we could go to the Humane Society and take a look.

For the next week or two, I was all over the Oregon Humane Society's website, looking at the photos and descriptions of every cat on the site. I even made a spreadsheet with info. about all the cats. By the time the weekend rolled around, I'd narrowed my picks to about a dozen furballs.


At the Humane Society, we began looking at the cats on my list. Some had already been adopted; some were temporarily at another facility. One, I remember, was so feisty, the volunteer couldn't even get him to come out of his cage without bloodshed. 

I met some of the others on my list, and they were fine, but didn't feel anything particularly special towards them.

I had pretty much exhausted my list when my mom said she wanted to meet a cat she'd seen in one of the little cat rooms. This cat, she said, had stood on her hind legs and pressed her paws against the glass to look at my mom. I agreed to meet the cat.


Within minutes of us all being in the little cat meet-and-greet room together, this little tuxedo fluffball named Betty Davis climbed into my lap, laid down, and began to purr.

That's when I knew. "She's the one," I said. And we adopted her.

In the car on the way home, our new cat meowed mournfully from her carrying box. Along the way, we decided we couldn't call her Betty Davis (we already had a Betty or two in the family), so I suggested "Baylie." (I had been taking a class on England's Castles; there was a lot of talk about motte-and-bailey castles. I think the name was floating around in my head.) 


When we got home, we let Baylie out of her box. She looked all around, jumped out, then went to find a hiding place. For the first night, she mostly remained under the family room couch, occasionally coming out to say hello before running back underneath. Her shyness, however, only lasted that one night. After that, she was perfectly amiable and always ready for affection.


We quickly realized she had a loud meow and wasn't afraid to use it. We also found that she was terrified of the doorbell. Whenever it would ring, she would zoom upstairs and hide. This quirk only seemed to go away in later years, when she began to lose her hearing.

Like most cats, Baylie was keen to the sound of the can opener, interested in whatever her humans were eating.

We adopted her sister Didi a month and a half later, and although the two cats didn't get along at first, after a few months they were best friends.

Usually.



Me with the girls circa 2005.

Baylie loved her scratching post/cat tree, especially the top portion. She'd often lie on her back and kick. Or play with her tail.


She also loved boxes. No matter what size box, if you set it within her reach, she'd try to climb in it.

She loved burrowing under blankets. Sometimes you'd just see a lump in your bed... it was her!

In her younger years, she enjoyed chasing the laser pointer dot around the house. If it appeared high on the wall, she'd leap as high as she could, against the wall, to claim it. 


Baylie's front paws had been declawed before we got her. Whatever your take on declawing, I can say that, for the most part, it was really nice having a declawed cat. It meant she had to stay indoors, but we would have kept her inside anyway.

With a lack of front claws, this girl learned another way to defend herself when Didi wanted to play. I called it the backpaw beatdown. It involved Baylie putting her weight on her front paws and pivoting her hips so that her back legs came down on top of Didi. Tussling would commence. Since Didi was smaller, the two were pretty evenly matched.

After she entered her teenage years, Baylie didn't perform this move anymore, but in her prime, it was hilarious.



One of Baylie's vices was jumping onto our kitchen counters. We tried all kinds of things to curb this behavior -- LEGO baseplates on the surfaces (she walked right over them), a motion sensor alarm (it didn't bother her; we'd hear it, run in, chase her off, only to hear the alarm go off again five minutes later.) We learned to keep all our food in the cupboards.

This girl loved muffins. Something about the smell would drive her wild. She could smell them through plastic and would attack muffin packages to get into them. She'd even go after empty muffin wrappers. We had to be careful to bury the wrappers deep in the wastebaskets.


In her later years, she would often stare at me as I ate, silently begging for food, inching ever closer. She began completely ignoring the word no. Sometimes I had eat in a room with a closed door just to avoid her bulbous, pleading eyes.


Some of Baylie's nicknames over time included: Baylie May, Mrs. Blue, and Bay-Bay.

We brought Riker into the family in 2011, and Didi passed away in 2014. Riker and Baylie didn't get along at first. Baylie often hissed at her brother when he came near. But as time went on, she seemed to forget that they'd ever been enemies. Multiple times in her last year, I caught them snuggling.


^This is Riker waiting to see if Baylie will leave him anything in her dish. They ate different foods, but Baylie never quite finished every morsel of hers, so Riker got to eat her minimal leftovers. He was usually patient.

Baylie was diagnosed with thyroid issues when she was about eleven or twelve. She had lost a lot of weight. At age 3, she'd weighed 16 pounds. By 2018, she was down to 4.5 pounds. We gave her twice-daily doses of thyroid medicine, but the meds didn't fatten her up by any means.

In July of 2018, Baylie began having accidents, so we bought her some kitty diapers. She looked pretty adorable wearing them, and they worked really well.


Baylie and Riker could often be found snuggling together at this time. It was usually Baylie who'd initiate it. Riker was very patient with her. The two of them had come a long way.

One day in the fall of 2018, Baylie stopped eating, and I knew her time was near. I called into work, and then I held her in my arms all day, talking to her and keeping her cozy. 

Dear Baylie May. She had a long life: 2000-2018. She was part of our family for 15 1/2 years, and I'm forever grateful for the time we had.



^Baylie in 2010, checking out our baby chicks.


You can also check out Riker's Story here.

Friday, December 18, 2020

The Corona Chronicles: Chapter 14 (Let's See How Far We've Come)

 



Yeah. It ain't good.

But... there's a vaccine out there! An end is in sight! Except it'll take several months (or more) for everyone to get it, and in the meantime, people might let their guards down. 

And can you believe there are still Covid deniers out there? A certain elderly relative of mine might be among the first to get the vaccine (if he wants it) because he lives in an assisted living facility... though why would he need a vaccine, anyway? According to him, he's never been sick a day in his life! (Cancer doesn't count!) Of course, he swore that Covid would suddenly end after the election, because it was all a conspiracy anyway. AUGHHHHH.

I've had several friends who've had it. None ended up in the hospital, thank goodness, but the lasting effects are scary to think about.

I've been thinking about how things have changed between March and now, December. We've come a long way and learned a lot. We're a little less afraid of touching things. I remember people were sanitizing their mail in those first couple months. 

Someday we won't wear masks anymore. Count me among one of the weirdos who actually doesn't mind wearing one, except when my glasses fog up. What can I say?

Also, count me among one of the teachers who doesn't mind distance learning. It's not perfect, but neither was in-person learning. If your school had perfect in-person learning in the "before" times, I guess you would miss that. However, ours was a clusterfudget, and I don't. 


Meeeeanwhile...

It's the holiday season! But I haven't watched a single holiday special yet. I've been too busy rewatching The Queen's Gambit, now with obligatory pauses every 10-15 minutes to break open Chess Titans and play against a very sneaky computer. And no matter how many green apple Jelly Bellies I consume, no pawns are appearing on my ceiling. Drat.

Speaking of holiday specials, they've taught me (and all of us?) some very important lessons that are suddenly more relevant in 2020 than ever before.

These lessons include:

It's okay to go minimalist on the decor. -- A Charlie Brown Christmas

No matter how miserable you've been lately, you can make things brighter for someone else tomorrow. -- A Christmas Carol

Distanced from your family? You can have a grand old time all by yourself! EAT ALL THE ICE CREAM AND SLED DOWN THE STAIRS! -- Home Alone

If your social gathering goes awry this year, there's always next year! -- Die Hard

If you have no money to buy presents, make 'em (or find 'em in the barn!) -- A Garfield Christmas

If someone steals all your presents and decorations, SING YOUR HEART OUT ANYWAY. -- How The Grinch Stole Christmas

If you've offended Santa to the point where he won't visit your town this year? Fix that dang town clock and summon him back, darnit! - Twas The Night Before Christmas (1974)

Didn't get that ONE present you really wanted? It's fine; you might've shot your eye out with it anyway. - A Christmas Story

 

Monday, October 26, 2020

The Corona Chronicles: Chapter 13



Previously...
9/18/20: 198,000
9/7/20: 185,000
7/26/20: 143,000
6/19/20: 117,000
5/25/20: 97,000
5/13/20: 82,556

* * *


Assuming I survive the pandemic, I've made a list of things I want to do when things return to some semblance of "normal." (Optimistically breezing past the question, will they ever?)

Things I Want To Do When
Things Go Back To Normal

I want to hug and kiss my nieces.

I want to visit Rome.

I want to go on another cruise. Because of course I do.

I want to forget the way my glasses fogged up when I wore a mask.

I want to throw a party. It likely won't be a big party. But there will be cake.

I want to go out to eat at a restaurant and take my time. I want to order dessert without second-guessing myself. I want to order that drink with the little umbrella in it.

I want to go to Disneyland at least every three years. Unless I find something even more fun to do.

I want to go to LEGO conventions I've never been to before. 

I want to take another train trip. Probably not a long one. Maybe just an overnight. I will get that sleeper car.

I want to spend hours at the library. Or a bookstore. Or really anywhere.


Friday, September 18, 2020

The Corona Chronicles: Chapter 12

 Back so soon? I am indeed.

(Source)


As you may recall, I began my last Corona-related post by saying "It's been another month and a half of little to say."

I know better than to say that again.

The last 10 days have been insane.

It started with a post going around Facebook among my local friends. We were told to be aware of an impending "wind event" on Monday the 7th, which may cause downed power lines, which may cause fires. This turned out to be accurate. Our power went out for about 5 hours Monday evening, an event which not only triggered the emergency lights I got on Amazon six years ago and have rarely been able to utilize ("yay, they work!") but also panic ("The freezer's off! Save the ice cream!") 

The winds continued for several days, and the news came that wildfires were starting to pop up everywhere. Usually I don't think much about wildfires. I live in the suburbs. The forests are all over... thatway. But now they felt substantially closer. Like the ominous lights of the intruding City in The Little House. 

News buzzed about evacuation zones. Several of my co-workers and relatives were in Zone 2, meaning "be ready to get the hell outta there."

On Wednesday it was still dry, warm, and windy. We have a group of people living across the street who smoke out on their driveway day and night. On Wednesday someone didn't put out their cigarette properly when they threw it in the coffee can with the 100 butts already in there. They'd gone back inside when I saw the smoke billowing toward our house. I admit to panicking a little. I kept remembering something about how you're not supposed to douse campfires with water. Not that a can full of burning cigarettes = a campfire, but wasn't there something about water scattering burning ash everywhere? Anyway, I'd just watered one of our bushes, so I grabbed a handful of wet dirt, sprinkled it into the can, and that seemed to do the trick. Of course, for days afterward, I was peeking through the window, making sure their cigarette can was behaving itself.

By Thursday night, some of my relatives from Zone 2, who had been experiencing awful air for days, came to stay with us. At that point, our air was still okay, and since we were in Zone Nada, it seemed like the best option. My relatives brought a carload of stuff. I began thinking about what things I would take if I had to evacuate. It came down to my baby blanket, my journals, and a photo album. If the rest got burned I'd still miss it, but at least I'd have something. These thoughts, man...

The relatives were with us for a week. The smoke here got worse, but we kept it mostly at bay via towels under the doors, an air filter, and a pot of boiling water on the stove. Being trapped indoors? Ah, memories of mid-March, 2020! So long ago, and yet such a familiar time...

We (the Pacific Northwest being "we") kept waiting and hoping for rain. First it was supposed to come on Tuesday the 15th. But it didn't. Then we heard Thursday, maybe Friday.

Today, Friday morning, it came. It came in with a literal bang -- thunder. I don't often wake to noises, but I woke to that. Under the pretense of making sure the cat, who spends most nights in his cat cave in the basement bathroom, was okay (but really, I wanted him to comfort me), at 4am I got up, went downstairs, opened the bathroom door, and stepped in something wet. 

The bathroom was flooding. Because of course it was.

We have a back stairwell, and the drain had apparently gotten clogged. I hurried outside and bailed out several buckets of water, cleared the drain of dead leaves, and then helped my mom towel off the bathroom floor for the next 20 minutes. (The cat ran upstairs without offering any help whatsoever.)

After the bathroom was dry, I asked my mom if she thought the storm drain out on the street might need attention. She said it had been clear the day before. But then she looked out the window and saw a lake forming in the street. So I put on long rubber gloves, plunged my arms into the rushing, freezing cold water, and tried to clear the clog. During the storm, all the debris from the entire street -- pine needles, leaves, dirt -- had flowed down toward us and gotten trapped. As I worked, there was still thunder and lightning happening (though the storm itself seemed to have moved a few miles away), so I had visions of being electrocuted with my hands in the gutter. That would be one helluva way to go.

But I lived. And the rain did cleanse the air a bit, though overall it's still awful and the whole world is a mess. The wildfires continue to burn, though most evacuees who didn't lose their homes have been able to return, I've heard. Still, many did lose their homes.

Distance learning was supposed to begin this Monday in our school district. It didn't. We couldn't get computers or supplies distributed to kids' families due to the air quality, so we couldn't start classes.

We're supposed to start next week, now.

As one of my coworkers has said, next week we're due for zombies.

If this ends up being my last update, you can safely assume they ate my brain.


Monday, September 7, 2020

The Corona Chronicles: Chapter 11




It's been another month and a half of little to say.

We've been given more guidance for what the new school year will look like. It's going to be online... they're saying until at least January. We're going to be doing prep for a couple of weeks, and then the kids will begin coming to online sessions.

I keep having nightmares about being at school, though... trying to herd kids. Running through the halls of schools, trying to help students who are having meltdowns. 

Dear brain -- please cut it out.

I'm still staying away from people, mostly. I probably stay at home six out of seven days a week, not including a daily short walk around the neighborhood.

I've been listening to a lot of podcasts: The Blume Saloon, First Impressions, Klickitcast....

I've been playing a lot of Sims 4, which, if you follow this blog, you've no doubt noticed.

I've read a couple of books.

The #BlackLivesMatter protests continue, though some have been infiltrated by people with bad intentions. It feels like there has been so little change. Sometimes it feels so hopeless. Our mayor, Ted Wheeler, has been the most useless sod of a mayor; so much so that when Tr*mp got on twitter and denounced TW, I found myself... I can't even believe it... agreeing with him?? There's a first time for everything. I feel so dirty, now.

Weird times, indeed.

In the middle of August my mom and I went up to Washington to socially-distant-visit with my grandpa. We stayed at my aunt & uncle's house, as they were out of town. I was able to visit some of the local beaches and parks. I used my metal detector and found some rusty, barnacled pieces of metal.







That land you see across the water? That's Canada, the land from which we are all currently barred. 


Though, apparently their phone service signals are really strong!








And here are a few more photos of things that just seem to encapsulate these weird times...

My doctor's office's waiting room, which previously held hard chairs and boring magazines...


And waiting in line outside of Trader Joe's...