Her name is Tia…

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And I’m not certain how long she will stay here for, but I hope and pray it will be for a long time.

So far, she’s beating the odds, and has blessed us with her presence for 4 days.  🙂

Each day is a little miracle, just like she is.

 

Yes, Pie’s had her babies, born 2 days early.  5 babies – 4 of them very healthy and happy indeed (or at the moment – very chubby, and behaving like barbarians while fighting over the boobies).

And then there is Tia.  Born smack bang in the middle of the litter.  About half the size of her siblings… and not breathing (I was however prepared, and had been reading up on how to help little kittens breathe).

I didn’t think she was going to make it to day 2… but she did.  And then day 3… and now on day 4.

She’s getting handfed every second hour, or I keep trying each hour if I’m not happy with the amount she’s had.   Emotionally and physically I’m completely drained, but each time she takes some formula from the bottle makes it worth it.  🙂

I was pulled in two directions, on whether to take her to the vets to be tube fed, or try bottle and formula… and in the end I opted for the bottle.  The tube is no guarantee she’ll make it, and if she’ not going to make it… then I’d rather she’s known the love from Pie, and the warmth of her siblings, than a surgery.

She’s so incredibly little.  And although she’s grown (she’s now nearly the size her siblings were when they were born), the other’s are growing so much faster, and now nearly look three times her size.

 

The bad is that she’s still so terribly small, and won’t drink from Pie.  The good news is that she’s feisty (she’s some wiggle worm, and will climb both over me when trying to feed her, and her mother and siblings), and doesn’t appear to be in any sort of distress (she doesn’t cry, apart from when I initially lift her from the rest of the gang).

 

If you pray, I’d appreciate a little prayer for the tiny little Tia… and if you don’t, then I’d appreciate some good vibes sent her way.  🙂

 

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My poor babygirl… and this and that.

DSC_0028My poor little babygirl went in to be spayed the other day (if you fancy seeing a close-up, here’s a pic taken 24 hours later… nicely healing, but looks like a butcher did it)…  BUT… and there’s a massive BUT… I am furious with the vets on how they dealt with it.

She’s NOT spayed!  Nope, no spaying done at all.

Other half took her to the vets, and I informed him he had to give them his mobile number, as he would be closer, and could get there in 2 minutes, should he be needed for any reason.

And they called him.

To tell him she’s pregnant.  Of course she’s fucking pregnant – that’s what cats do the best.  But she can still be spayed!  But no, they called him and informed him there’s babies in the tum, and that there “might be complications” (of course there might be fucking complications!!!  There might be complications during ANY spaying), and whether he wanted them to go-ahead with the spaying, or let her have the kittens.  They even went as far as saying she’s fit and healthy and there’s no reason why she couldn’t have another litter!

So, other half was now worried about Ms Monkey-Pie and any complications, and worried about the “babies” (Catholic and all), and decided against going ahead with the operation.

He then called me… and told me she was preggers, to which I replied “of course she is”, and he then said they had given him the option of whether to go ahead with the op… he didn’t tell me he’d by then already told them to close her up.

I hang up on him and call the vets straight away – telling them to please go ahead with the op (although I knew I would cry like a little baby afterwards… I shouldn’t have worried as I ended up bawling my eyes out anyway).

And they say – oh we’ve already closed her up, and she’s waking up, we can’t go ahead with it now!

I was fuming – sad and upset for Pie, and fuming that they had put it in a way to my other half to make it sound like it would be in the best interest of our girl to have the kittens… it’s NOT in her best interest!  She had a litter less than 12 weeks ago.  She needs to be able to be her again, not just a mummy.

So…  now she will have another litter… which will only be getting milk from her for the first 2 weeks, after that they will be on the bottle, so Pie can be spayed as soon as possible.

 

And so the last two girls of Pie’s litter will be re-homed.  We decided to keep them when I wasn’t 100% happy with any that offered them a home.  They’re my little baba-lubas… my little angels.  We absolutely adore them to bits (and I wish I could show you loads of pictures, but with the two of them racing about or climbing legs or curtains it’s impossible to get a decent picture.

Our favourite is bringing them into bed and see a film – it doesn’t matter if the film is rubbish – the two of them pouncing about on the bed is excellent entertainment.  😀

But… with hand rearing kittens coming up, and constantly having to keep an eye on the two girls with the dogs still, and there are days where I can barely walk, and to top it off Pie’s started to become agressive towards them… the girls would be better off with the right family.

And if all goes to plan, they will be joining their new families this week…  we could have done it over the weekend, but it’s heartbreaking to let them go… although we are thrilled with their new home.  They will be playmates to a pre-teen girl who’s slightly differently able.  She lost her elderly cat a while ago, and her and the kittens will be having loads of fun.  They will be living on a small homestead, and it’s a three generation family, where grandma already has three kitties that bring home pressies every day (if they grow up to be like Pie, they will be in heaven catching mice and birds!).

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(The two baby-monkeys running riots on the sofa)

 

So, heartbreak and kittens aside… I’m really not doing too well at the moment.  If it’s not the body, it’s the head… and of course there’s days where there’s both!  😀

Luckily I’m seeing the cardiology specialist this month, so hopefully something can be sorted.  There’s some tablets I could try help with the fatigue, but I’ve tried to get a doc appointment and couldn’t get any until this week, and as there’s now less than 2 weeks to the hospital appointment I saw no point, as I wouldn’t be certain if the tablets were working or I was just having a few good days until then.

Head’s either all over the place, or gone away on holiday… the other day my other half found a pack of ham I’d stuck in the medicine cabinet.  *sigh*

 

Other half’s been doing wonders with the porch in-the-making!  😀

Soon enough I will get the blasted washing machine out of the kitchen, and can finally start figuring out how we want the kitchen – and I can order my fridge!!!  This is like the highlight of the summer for me.  😀

I am however NOT impressed with a local company that supplies roofing shingles.  We bought a pack, and was short 2 “strips” (or whatever it’s called).  Went back to see if they had any loose… and they did – as they were scattered outside!  And they refused to let us have two loose ones!!!  Bloody bastards.  We’d been happy to pay, but instead we had to buy a whole blooming pack for £40.  In the end they’re the losers… if they’d let us buy two of the loose ones, we would have happily recommended them to people, as the shingles are great… but they customer service let them down.  I won’t slag them off by name (it’s their livelyhood), but not a word of praise will be spoken either.

This is why I love B&Q.  I would rather support local businesses… but B&Q’s got it right.  They’re always so happy to please.  Just the other day I spotted a tray of alpines.  I wanted them!  But the tray was missing one plant.  So I wandered around trying to see them, so I could get a full tray… but of course didn’t spot them (ham in the medicine cabinet!)… so asked a chap that worked there.  He said I thought that was the last, but still went to check, and when realising it really was the last tray, he knocked off a big chunk of the price for me.  They’re looking really nice around the pond, I shall try to post pics one of these days.

 

Although the weather hasn’t been great at all, the waterlilies are doing fab!  We’re now on the second one in the back garden (pink) and the third and fourth in the front garden:

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(Second water lily in the back garden)

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(My massive hunk of a tomcat showing off the third and fourth water lily in the front garden… the one closest just opening up).

Ack… it might be time to see the doc again

I know how proud people are of the NHS here in the UK, “free healthcare!”.  Well, as NI is paid, it’s not truly free. is it?

But anyway, I do love that the healthcare is the same for everyone (unless you go private), and everyone gets the same service.

My problem is the service…  I’m afraid I got nothing good to say about it.  When I had a pneumonia and was coughing blood, in such pain I had to sleep sitting up, I got advised to take paracetamol.  *sigh*  When I had problem in the nether regions the doctor said I had probably had a misscarriage, and when I said that was impossible she claimed I’d been sleeping around!

When I had suspected leukemia the doctor first refused to tell me what they were testing for, until I asked specifically if it was for leukemia, which he then reluctantly admitted.  I had to wait a week for the test results, and when they finally came back they were “inconclusive” (I hopped on a plane the next day, took tests in a different country and the doc there called me less than 24 hours later to assure me it wasn’t leukemia).

My last encounter with a doctor, when I had had an infection stemming from a tooth that had spread to the top of my mouth, being so painful I hadn’t slept for 3 days, and the doctor refused to give me antibiotics, and instead wanted to arrange for me to have councelling regarding my dentist fear.

 

So… I am not eager.  Not eager at all.  Nowever, I’m not getting better, and I seem to have developed dysphasia (or aphasia for the US English).  I’ve noticed that I’ve had problems with words for over month.  It’s not that I forget, I’m one of those that will normally say things like “that thingy-bob”…  but that I replace a perfectly normal word with a completely different one.

Other half has picked up on it many times (I don’t notice until he points it out).  My writing speed has gradually slowed down, and is just getting slower and slower, as I now have to consider how to spell things, something I haven’t needed since I first learnt to read and write.

So, mix that with the constant fevers, the lethargy and generally feeling unwell, and it equals something that makes me frightened (not for me, but for my other half).

 

So, I’ve given myself a deadline, not better by Monday morning, and I’ll go see the doc.  Ack.  Not that I think I’m gonna get any help there, but I will insist on a complete blood count.  I really wish there was private docs nearby, as if you ask for a CBC there, they will happily give it to you (with a hefty fee!).

I do of course hope the dysphasia is simply due to stress, and although stress is something I generally never suffer from, I am highly stressed about the fact that I’m currently comepletely useless.  😀

But, it could be something that’s developed from my tooth infection spreading, and if it is, then that’s not anything I can fix myself.

 

Costly dyslexia

Now, on the contrary to what you might think at times with my appaling spelling, I am not dyslexic… with me it’s purely lazyness… the head can spell, but the fingers seem to have a life of their own, and I can never be arse to re-read what I’ve written to check for mistakes.  🙂

However, my other half is dyslexic.  And it’s something he prefers to ignore.  I deal with any correspondance, whether it’s text messages or e-mail for him.  And I don’t mind… I know it’s a struggle for him.

However – he’s decided to take charge.  He can read and write, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a slow and agonising process, with him getting frustrated as he gets stuck on words.

To me reading and writing has always been a joy… I don’t read letter by letter, I generally don’t even read word by word, unless there’s a word that’s not common to me, I read sentence by sentence.  Of course I do happend upon a word now and then that my brain don’t instantly recognise by just glancing at it, and occasionally a word I don’t know, and then I’ll eagerly check it out via online dictionary, feeling like I’ve just been handed a nice treat (I love learning new words, and I still do, English is after all not my mother tongue).

But, spurred on with the other half wanting to improve his reading and writing, I took to google.  He used to have a pair of tinted reading glasses, but the’d gotten lost, so until he can get another eye test, I figured there might be something useful online.

First thing that greeted me was an ad to buy a font that supposedly makes it easier for dyslexics.  But you know what – some pretty cool person has made a similar font completely free!!!  So now I have installed OpenDyslexic as an add on onto other halfs Chrome browser (he normally uses FF, but now he has the option of using Chrome, where all websites will show with the special font).  Dosh saved!  Big thank you to OpenDyslexic.

Then I figured a game would do him well.  Might as well start re-learning the basics, as he was labelled “stupid” in school (and he’s as far from that as you can get), and never got the support he could have greatly benefitted from.  So, I search to see if there’s some games for kids that can help teach from scratch.  Yup – there is – for £100!  This actually made me really upset, as with all the car troubles this past month, there is no where in hell I’d be able to afford that… this month is a total no-go, and next month will be catch-up due to the expenses this month, which means I wouldn’t be able to get it until end of May.  *sigh*  So I check e-bay tosee if someone’s selling it second hand (it can be bought on disk), but no luck… and after many a click hopping from website to website, I finally find a similar game – for free!

Why the heck is this game not linked from all the places I visited regarding dyslexia?  It’s free!  It’s fun (if you’re 5… probably not so fun if you’re 50, but hey-ho)… and did I mention it’s free?  So – now the other half will have an extremely childish game to play… and I know he’s gonna love it.  If he one day can read a book himself without throwing it down in frustration after 3 pages, he’ll be just about the happiest man in the world…

And here it is – completely free – a game that will start with the very basiscs on learning how to read a write:  Teach your monster to read

So… maybe being dyslexic doesn’t have to be too costly afterall.  😀  Now all I need is to get his prescription for new glasses, and then I’ll order them online for a fraction of the price.  😀

Aaaaargh – blooming ear mites.

Well, my boy’s managed it yet again – catch earmites.

Considering how much he hates his drops with a passion, you’d think he’d learn not to fight with strange cats.  *sigh*

Luckily it was spotted early (only one ear), and all the other four legged ones are in the clear.  The good thing about it being the boy catching them, is that chances are the other’s won’t get it (as he prefers not to socialise with them).

He had it last year too, but before that he was in the clear when it came to ear mites for quite a few years.  Little bugger must have been scratching in secret, knowing the drops would come out… but I spotted it checking him over today.  As he’s not the most cuddly cat ever, I always take the chance once a week, at a point where he is feeling loving to give him a once over, feeling for lumps, and checking the ears.  Only thing he won’t ever let me check is his mouth, so I always to to get a good peek when he’s either biting or yawning.  😀

He’s had his first drops, and my hands got the bite marks to prove it.  In a couple of days time my hands will look like mince.  Hamburgers anyone?

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Chilling out in the garden today… showing off his good ear.  😀  Not that his other ear is bad, but I spotted the tell-tale signs taking a peek inside.

A single drop of blood…

First thing that greeted me today was a single drop of blood on the kitchen floor.

Blood is always a worry… did I go on a killing spree in my sleep?  Unlikely.  Which means it will come from one of the fourlegged ones.  Not the dogs – as they’d been snoozing in bed with me, and was already running about like loons in the garden.

Which leaves the cats.  I charge upstairs (ok, a wee bit of a lie, more like hobbling as quick as I can) to check on the boy – he gives me a “fuck off” look.  It’s not his “fuck off and leave me alone as I’m not feeling well” look, it’s his “fuck off, I hate your guts” look.  No need to even check him, he’s clearly feeling just fine.  So, that leaves Ms Monkey-pie.  I go out the backgarden to call her – and the little madam comes flying off the neighbours shed roof – leaps over the fence and comes totting along without a worry in the world.

I’m now thinking it might be bird blood.  Maybe monkey-pie caught a bird, and one of the dogs then dragged it into the garden.  Realising all furlegged ones are fine I dig out cleaning stuff, as clearly some un-known blood is not what I want on my kitchen floor.

And as I get down on the floor I see seeds in the blood.  It was raspberry jam. *feels like a proper dick*  Other half must have had a slice of toast with jam at some point during the night.

Bumblebee in February

Yes – that’s what I found today when going out to feed the fish.  A bumblebee.  In February.

The poor thing was laying upside down on the step, slowly waving her legs in the air.

Panic ensues.  Where the fuck do I put a freezing and knackered bumblebee?  I won’t leave her there – the dogs or cats are bound to eat her.  I can’t stick her inside – the dogs or cats are bound to eat her.

The shed.  Surely the shed is the solution.  There’s a small gap between the roof and walls (to make sure it’s cool in summer) – if she heats up a wee bit she can fly out and make her nest or whatever it is young queens do.

So bumblebee moved into the shed.  Panic ensues – what is she supposed to eat?  There’s no flowers!  Quick google (sugarwater, same as butterflies) – sugarwater made.  Rushing into the shed with sugarwater.  Bumblebee has now managed to roll over onto her back again, and I had to flip her back over.

So I leave her there in the shed, a little warmer than outside, sugarwater by her side, and easy escape if she gathers her strenght to continue on her journey.

I will NOT get attached to a half-dead bee outside my door.  I will NOT.

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I’ve named her Dorothea.

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Pic above is not of Dotty, but thought the post needed a wee bit of colour, so used this pic taken summer 2011