Kitten Saga Continued

God designed us with emotions. He gave us the ability to feel, to love, and cry. We can experience anger, sadness, joy, elation, and depression in our lifetimes. Loving someone, and having that love returned, is one of the greatest blessings here in this life. I am thankful that He created us this way, even though at times, it really hurts.

I also believe that animals have the ability to care, to love, and demonstrate their feelings. Some more than others. I am reminded of a video that was going around Facebook a couple weeks ago. It showed a little girl, sitting on her living room sofa watching TV, with her pet yellow python sprawled across the sofa, over her lap, and across the back of the sofa. It was watching TV with her. When she yawned, it yawned. Now, I detest snakes. I really wonder why God created them. That is one of the many questions I’m going to have one day, if I even care to ask them by that point! But maybe in a snake kind of way, it cared for that little girl…as long as it was well-fed!

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Any farmer knows how a mama cow will bawl for her baby when they are separated. You have watched animals in the wild care for their young, many times better, more protective than some of the news stories we have seen lately of parents with their children. Animals have the ability to care, and show feelings. God designed them that way.

As you all know from reading my post, Sometimes It Hurts, we lost two kittens and our older cat, Cassie in the course of a few days. The kittens were ones my husband had found, so we bottle-fed them and cared for them for three weeks. They were a brother and sister of the same litter. We grew to love them over those weeks, and they cared about us. Our daughter sang to them each night before putting them to bed. They loved the song, Mockingbird Hill, which you can listen to right here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJwv7ZsY6PQ

The male cat, a yellow and white cutie, would sit there while she sang, swaying back and forth with his eyes closed. It was adorable to watch.

My father took both of the kittens to the Helping Hands animal shelter in Topeka. He did that for us because he was able to. He knew it needed to be done quickly. He grew up on a farm, and to be honest, they just didn’t have the time to get that concerned about cats and their babies. They caught mice, and occasionally had a treat of milk while the milking was going on. I’ve always thought it must be a real test for my father to live with my mother, who adores cats, and their two kitties now are treated as queens that run the entire house.

The decision was made to take the kittens to the shelter, because our older cat, Cassie was not happy about them being at our house. She would come in, eat quickly and leave. A couple of times she watched the kittens with disdain, forgetting that she had been a kitten herself at one time, seeking the love, companionship and warmth of an older cat. I think that over time they would have all adjusted, but I didn’t want to put Cassie through that. I felt she should have us to herself during her waning years. And then she was gone…

Such is life, the emotions of love, that piercing sadness when you experience the loss of something or someone dear to your heart. There is no Cassie to greet us when we pull into our driveway, running up to our doors, and stretching for kitty-scratches. It’s very lonely to come home. Each morning I look out our back door, hoping to see her sitting on the wicker chair, or lounging on the garage roof. Each night before bed, I open that same door, hoping she will run in as she always did. In time, the memories will be sweet, and they won’t hurt so much.

During this kitten saga, my husband said he had seen a third kitten at work. One that looked like the female calico we had rescued. He had seen the mother only once more and the kitten was pretty wild. I told him I didn’t want to hear about any more kittens! And after the loss of three cats, I really didn’t want to go through all that again. On Friday, others at my husband’s place of work captured the third kitten. It took three people to outsmart a baby cat. And of course my husband called, saying he had another kitten in a box.

Now why would this happen? Why would God allow this into our lives at this point in time? We’d had almost two weeks of a cat-free life, and I’d been concentrating on all the positives to that. No more cat box to clean or smell. Our daughter does the cleaning of it, but we all smell it, and I don’t like it. No more food or cat litter to purchase. No more taking care of another warm body in our house. When I asked one of our older daughters this, our youngest daughter heard me and answered. “Because I’ve been praying that God would send me another cat!”

We now have Callie, sister to the two kittens. She is a pretty calico, with the same loving demeanor of her sister. The first day in our home, she didn’t speak, she cowered, and she was very afraid. She sat through her bath, not making a sound, only purring. She had spent her life fighting for safety and security. Now she has both, and love. Callie checked out at the veterinarian yesterday. She is a part of our family, and she loves to be sung to as well. I would love to be able to have her siblings here for her. Some feline companionship for the times we are gone. I’m sure our daughter is praying about that!

For those of you that read my post yesterday, here is the link you needed: https://www.facebook.com/deborahanndykeman With all that has gone on the past few weeks, it’s no wonder I’m addled-brained! Have a terrific Tuesday!

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Assessment Power

Do you remember those bar graphs in school? We all had to learn different ways to monitor progress for a variety of items. I liked the pie charts and bar graphs because they were colorful and made more sense to me. I should say again that they were colorful. Any time I could bring in some creative, artistic stuff into school work, I was great with that!

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Many of you that use WordPress know that there is a bar graph showing how many people visit your site. (I guess they are people, I’m hoping they are people!) There is also a cute little map showing where the people are from. I find this highly addicting. Every day I’m drawn to see what the bar graph is showing and what parts of the country have made a visit. “Wow! Someone in Ireland checked out my blog!” That is very exciting for me and a real honor. I always think it’s pretty neat when someone reads something I’ve written. I guess I’m just new enough to this that it still thrills me.

But unfortunately, I’m still human as well. And I notice that when I don’t post for a few days, those cute, little, blue bars get shorter and shorter. And that’s depressing.

We all know and understand that marketing and promoting is very difficult in any area. So difficult that some people have gone to school just for that and they are hired at companies to do only that job. And some make a lot of money doing it. So when you’re trying to market and promote yourself, it’s like racing across a frozen lake in April, just trying to stay ahead of the breaking, disintegrating ice.

Why do we as humans focus so much on what people think? Why are we constantly striving for that reward, acknowledgement, or tall blue line? A friend of mine commented the other night while we were giving a book talk in our little town. She was referring to Facebook and what a draw it it to see who has liked something, or commented. She said it was like receiving candy. And it is! It’s another boost to our over-sugared egos. And we want more and more.

Do we function in such a manner because of our feelings of inadequacy? Is any little positive comment, or pat on our back a reason to celebrate and change the course of our day? And then the reverse be true if someone kicks us in the gut, or tears us down verbally? I would hope not, but I know it to be a fact in my own life. As I’ve aged, the jabs don’t hurt as much as they once did. My skin is a little tougher. But the positive feedback means even more to me.

We are human, and we were created with a soul and emotions. We were designed to be loved and needed. The mean words and actions from others cut deeply. The rewards and encouraging words do make our day, and I’m glad for it. There was a time in my life when those feelings were numb, and I don’t want to go through life in that manner. I want to feel the highs and the lows, the crushing hurt and the exhilaration. It’s what makes this life exciting. The hard times make us appreciate the easy ones. Just as a runner would enjoy a cool drink, a shower and a soft chair after a race, we revel in a time of peace and happiness.

So, I’ll continue to check the little, blue bars on here. I’ll be excited when I see another country check in that I haven’t heard from yet. If the bars are low, it will encourage me to post again. It’s just another way to evaluate my progress and see what I need to be doing. What do you think? (Because I really need to know if you liked this post!)

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Expression of Who You Are

Do writers feel more than other people?

Do they have more pain, more emotional trauma, more joy or excitement in life?

Do they have more difficult lives, or easier ones?

No, to all of the above! Writers just have to express it more than other people.  It is a need within them, almost as much as eating or sleeping. Although when I have a story in my head, sleep takes a back seat as well.

Some writers may also be great talkers, sharing everything. Other writes may be quiet, having the need to express only on paper/computer.

I definitely communicate better on paper/computer, and always have. When I was a child, I always had a pen pal, or someone I was writing letters to. I could be who I wanted to be, who I felt I was in those letters. Meet me in person, the two might not mesh so well!

Don’t be afraid to express yourself or let others see who you really are. Writers, photographers, artists, musicians…anything you can think of with creativity is a way of expressing yourself. We all need that outlet. I personally believe it makes you a more well-rounded person. God gave us the ability to communicate, and it isn’t only through our lips.

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