silverthorne: Painting of a cougar sneaking through underbrush (Default)
This is a slight chronology of how Lucy has been doing, from the time I rescued her from Animal Control until last Friday.

I'm going to put them under a cut because...yeah. They might be hard for some of the cat lovers on my flist to see. Don't look if you think seeing an overly skinny cat will get you upset.

Hoprefully, she looks better in each pic; living with her, I sometimes wonder if she really is filling out or if it's wishful thinking. You guys can be the judge.

Sweetest Kitty in the World... )
silverthorne: (Snowball to the face)
My past has been giving me wedgies lately. It's the only way to describe how I feel about stuff that's been cropping up.

My mom, which I haven't spoken to in years, sends me a Christmas card with money inside.

The ex that sized a ring and an apartment lease on me and then disappeared (only for me to be told by his mom two months later he was marrying a different girl), has tried twice now to get me to talk to him on Facebook.

And the ex? Yes, that ex.

...They just found her dead in her apartment this morning.

And I'm just...I've hit the shock button I think. Because I know there's a lot going on in that head of mine right now, but I'm just...so numb.

My boss sent me home. I've been doing my best to find some sort of info for people to use to get hold of her family...which...yeah, I have none. Can't even locate her old journals or Yahoo accounts. And although I know she was on Facebook...she isn't now. Or at least I can't find her.

I...yeah. That's it, for now, I guess.
silverthorne: (Nautilus)
It's been over a year now.

I remember one of the ongoing 'complaints' was that I didn't help keep the place clean, and didn't know how to keep the place clean.

I'm looking around right now. I vaccumed tonight. Need to dust, though (it's been a week and a half).

Other than a few notebooks on the floor next to the desk, everything is up on a shelf.

There are dishes in the sink, but they've all been rinsed and really just need a quick date with soap and hot water, or put into the machine to wait until its filled for a group date for the same purpose later in the week.

Catboxes were cleared a half hour ago. Trash is about full, so tomorrow it has to go. But it's not overflowing, and between the 'deoderizer' bags and being in its own nook with a door, it's not making the place smelly.

I keep looking the place over. And yes, granted, I'll leave the floor unvaccumed for a week, or not do the catboxes twice a day. The pile of books may be taller, or there may be more than one.

But overall? This is about how my place stays. With me being the only caretaker.

It's a relief (after so many years of being accused of being the 'careless and lazy one'), a realization, and a source of pride to know that...it wasn't. And isn't me. And won't be me.

ETA: I realize I've probably gone on about this before. But it was one of the many things, and one of the more predominent things, that was used to break my spirit down. When I moved in with her, the place was spotless, she kept up a steady cleanign schedule, and so forth. And at first, I just took over some things. But...as time when on, more and more was on my plate and not hers, and then she started getting intentionally messy herself, and so on and so forth. So, even now, I still kinda marvel that what I was presented with in regards to how others were seeing me and how much truth there was in that perception, is in all honesty a total false, as evidenced by the condition of my current living area that I'm solely responsible for.

Sometimes, I still believe I was the irresponsible, messy, lazy one. But if I look around my own space...it belies that belief simply by most pointedly not being the mess it should be if all of that had been true.
silverthorne: (Caffiene seizures)
Dreamt I went to the ex's house for some reason. I think it was a combination of picking up something I forgot and supposedly helping her with something no one else could handle. Oh, and to get a key from her as well.

Anyway, the place had all the windows closed up and covered as usual, so that it was dark and no one could see in. I remember it was kinda cool (but it was also morning and the sun wasn't up yet), and the air had that 'lack of circulation' feel when it's old, you haven't opened windows in a while, and you haven't run the air system, either.

Fortunately, I was spared a scent input.

One of the two cats I had left behind was there. He looked okay, but he was back to being the skittish little guy I knew before I had started spending a lot of time just playing with him and coaxing him out into the open. He let me pet him a few times before diving under the bed. I was okay with this, because I figured that's probably what happened for real when I left last year. Ex really was never very good at making the household pets feel secure despite all her childhood stories about her and her uncle going out into the woods and animals coming up to them while they sat quietly and watched.

Anyway, things didn't seem too bad...until I found a back 1/2 bathroom where she kept Shadow's litter box.

I'm not kidding when I say the mouth of it (it was the covered one we had for the cats in my bathroom) was caked around the opening with matted, used, clumping sand. There was a hole big enough for a cat to get through, but...yeah, ew. At that point, I had the person who was with me (a weird combo of my dad, grandad, and an old friend from Tucson who, I haven't talk to in over a decade) help me catch and box Shadow so we could take him with us.

...maybe I need to stop watching Animal Cops before I go to bed at night.

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silverthorne: Painting of a cougar sneaking through underbrush (Default)
silverthorne

August 2013

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