The Spoiled Rotten Family

The current Tire Ordeal has shed light on a problem I was unaware of until  now.  Or perhaps I was in denial:

Someone at my house is spoiled rotten.

Now, in the past that title went to Bandit. It was a well deserved title. One that Mama accurately described with her pronouncement that, "Bandit is so rotten I can smell him all the way to Florida." That's quite a bit of spoiling.  I took my role as FurMommy seriously and doted on Bandit. The world did not revolve around the sun, it revolved around my FurLessBoy. However, since his passing six weeks ago, the title of Most Spoiled One can no longer be laid at his paws.

I would say the title has been passed on to The Cat...

However, cats are spoiled and entitled by nature. They have staff that wait on their every whim, not human "owners." They decide if they will play or lay. No enticement to do something they don't want to do will be successful. They are the consument Independent Thinker. We could learn a lot from cats. This independance is ingrained in their DNA and can not be counted againt them as being spoiled rotten. Therefore, Moggy is also not the Spoiled Rotten One.

That leaves only one other occupant...

I had an inkling when the loaner Ford gave me for the night, before my insurance provided rental was ready, had an actual key.

That I had to insert in the ignition.

Oh my gosh! You would have thought I had never driven a car before. I looked for the push button and couldn't find it. Even when I realized this key fob has a bit or blade. It took a second, before it finally dawned on me the course of action required was insertion.

The following day I received my rental and my divaness was reinforced. 

Insurance is providing a daily allowance  that is sufficent to meet my travel needs, but not my comfort desires; therefore, I am paying a small daily amount out of pocket for an upgrade so my knees don't creak attempting to enter and exit a low ridding car.

But my divaness doesn't stop there.

The rental SUV has a backup camera and a bladeless key fob; however, no GPS,  only limited voice control, no bluetooth speaking through the radio, no audio text, no lumbar support, no blinged out steering wheel cover, and much missed on a cold morning:  no leather seat warmers.

Yep.  I am spoiled. Rotten.

Mama probably was smelling me, not Bandit, all the way in Florida.

God Bless Anytime Towing

Driving home from work tonight I barely missed a deer. Again.  Same road I took out a suicidal deer a couple years ago.  I have been known to honk my horn while driving this road. But tonight there was lots of oncoming traffic.
I really need to get a deer whistle.

About a mile later I drove over something in the road. It sounded metalic. I knew I didn't hit anything on the side of my SUV so it wasn't the bridge tresses or concrete moorings.  But for the life of me. I couldn't imagine what it could have been. It was very low to the ground and this road is very dim, without street lighting.  Like Sgt. Schuktz of Hogan's Heros fame. "I  saw nothing."  Thankfully I had not been speeding, and suffered no injuries. 

In fact, I drove a few feet before the tire pressure sensor told me what I feared: the pressure was going down. I likely had a leak or worse.   I pulled over into the Summer Fun parking lot by the snow cone stand and got out to assess the situation. Then I remembered I have Ford Roadside Assist.  So I found the website and started the online process of ordering the service. It was misty and I really didn't want to change the tire myself. Been there. Done that. Have the T-shirt. Many, many, many times.

A BPD Officer arrived so I abandoned the website and started getting the donut and jack out. He took everything to the front passenger tire. That's when I realized whatever I hit had taken out both passenger side tires!  My donut was not going to get me to anyplace selling tires.

I returned to my abandoned Ford site and finished ordering a tow.  Meanwhile the Officer went to assist the other THREE cars that ran over the same thing. When he returned, he informed me it had been a tire and rim.

Meanwhile, the Roadside Assist site had the Ford Dealership address as 17 miles away.  It's not.  The OLD location was, but the location they've been in for several years is only 2.2 miles from where I was.  I called and spoke with an operator who was located in Belton Mo. She got hold of the tow truck service (Anytime Towing--I highly recommend!!!!) to make sure they didn't tow it to the old Ford location.

She also said she would send a complimentary Lyft to get me home. Then she told me I was her first Belton Tx, and her first Lyft. 

My phone was down to 1% and not taking a consistant charge.   So she relayed that information to the tow truck and lyft drivers before I hung up. The Belton policeman came back and waited with me until the tow truck arrived just a few minutes later.

Cody, (or maybe Colby), the tow truck driver waited about 20 minutes after my SUV was loaded and he talked with several of the other stranded motorists, who had walked over to see if they could enlist his services once he finished with me. Lyft still had not arrived. They had been told my phone was dying and I would likely not be able to reach them to confirm the need for a ride.  I checked my phone and the charge was back up to 7%, so I tried calling all the numbers in my recent calls list. The only one that was capable of incoming calls was Cody/Colby (the tow truck driver standing 3 feet away).

So I went to the website again and finally got connected with some guy with an accent I had difficulty unterstanding.  I briefed him, gave him my phone number, and the lyft confirmation number and he placed me on hold while he checked it out--he wanted to just call me back. I nixed that real quick.  When he came back on the phone, his "brilliant" suggestion was for me to "ride with the tow truck to the Ford dealership and wait while they 'try' to find a lyft for me."  Yeah. They were so successful with lift the first time. Nope. Not happening. Moving on to Plan B:  Phone A Friend.

By this time, I had been in the parking lot almost an hour. I told the Road Assist Guy I would move on to Plan B:  Phone A Friend.  Going to the closed dealership (which would take me further from friends and home), to "hope" for anhother lyft, after my lyft "confirmed" lyft  had been worthless, was not an option.   I told him, "Thank you anyway. I'm hanging up now." Three times. The third time I cut him off by hitting the hang up button.  It was getting late and I needed to make phone calls before my friends turned into pumpkins.  Otherwise I would have to turn to Plan Z:  Hoof it.

Cody/Colby,  the tow truck driver, heard my convo with road assist guy and asked where I lived. When I told him, he said he would drop me off.

The trick was getting up into the tow truck.  LOL.  That was a sight for passerbys! I haven't had to climb that steep of steps in several years.

Actually, the real trick was getting back down. I thought I might have to jump into Cody/Colby's arms. Luckily for me he was a big boy and could probably catch me. Luckily for Cody/Colby I was able to use the multiple heavy duty grab bars.  I also used  my cane as a third leg. I was once again a sight for onlookers.  This time they were  the neighbors in my cul-de-sac.

I made it home safe and sound, my SUV is at the Ford dealership, and my phone is charged.

Thank God for Cody/Colby and Anytime Towing.

The Coin

I received a somewhat cryptic email from my Supervisor this week, stating I needed to meet the Director in the building that now houses Human Resources for a "surprise." Before I could get all paranoid-crazy anticipating a pinkslip, she told me it was a "good" surprise.  Since she is my fourth Supervisor and third Service during the multiple attempts at service line restructuring over the past year, a small part of me still wondered if her definition of workplace "good"  was the same as mine. I work for the Federal Government after all--a place where system problem work-arounds and oxymorons abound...

As soon as the Director started reading the letter, I knew what this was about, and relief started to wash over me.

I was one of 13 people, spanning inpatient and outpatient services, and at least 6 Service Lines, being recognized for helping meet the very complex needs of a Veteran, who without immediate intervention, would die, probably within days. My part in the unfolding drama was minute.

On the one hand, I am extremely honored and humbled to be recognized for the small part I played.  On the other hand, I continue to extol the efforts of my coworkers, who daily meet the very complex needs of our Veterans, without fanfare, kudos, or even thanks. In fact, many times other services and professions receive the honor, recognition, and thanks for what we have set into place behind the scenes. Luckily the three of us are intrinsically motivated and don't work our daily miracles to gain the limelight.  The same can be said of the rest of my Service Line Coworkers, who are national leaders in truely Intergrated Case Management.  Still, it's nice to have our efforts valued and acknowledged from time to time--even if the original letter placed me in the wrong profession, and did not recall my last name (that humbled me!).

Our new Director told us he would be passing each of us the newest minting of the Central Texas Veterans Health Care System Director's Coin. I received one of the old school coins, from an outgoing Director a few years back, so I anxiously awaited the opportunity to view the new changes (the photos on my Facebook page have my old coin in the upper left, and the newest coin in the lower right).

I was also still a tiny bit uneasy--at least until I peeked, with trepidation, at the object slipped into my hand during The Handshake and saw, much to my relief...nothing pink. 

Moggy's Unroutine Routine

Moggy's daily routine is fairly...ummm...routine...except when it's not. Even though he has an inside litterbox, every morning he would follow  Bandit outside, do his business, climb a tree, antagonize the neighbor dogs, chase a squirrel, and stalk a bird or lizzard...or three. In no particular order. Some days his morning adventures kept him outside all day. Most days he followed Bandit back inside and they watched as I readied myself for  the upcoming day.  Now he continues his unroutine routine solo. While my morning audience has shrunk, it's still SRO in my bathroom.

Sometimes  Moggy eats his breakfast before going out. Sometimes he waits until he's back inside.  On days when he's especially ravenous, he eats before and after.  

If Moggy is still inside when I head off to work, and he decides at the last minute that he really wants to be an outside cat, he will run  out the front door ahead of me. He has until I cross the threshhold and start locking the door to change his mind.  Occasionally he will decide he will be an inside cat afterall and he darts back in and  returns to bed. Those are the days I envy him most.

His inside/outside unroutine routine continues when I arrive home each evening.  If he's been inside all day, he's usually ready to go outside. And if he's been outside, he often pops out of whatever outside hidey-hole  he's been in, and greets me as I'm exiting the SUV. When I take too long, he hops into the SUV with me.

The first time Moggy entered the SUV of his own volition it shocked me--he doesn't care for riding, and we had recently returned from a several thousand mile road trip. I thought he would be sick of the SUV. Since he hopped in, I decided to drive around the block with him riding free to see how he handled it. Big mistake. One that I have no desire to repeat. We both travel much better when he is confined and listening to a deeply resonate male voice reading an audio book. Yes, he is 100% spoiled.

Once Moggy has eaten his dinner, he's ready to go back outside for a couple hours.  He's usually ready to come back inside and go to bed between 10pm and 2am--whenever I start locking up and  turning out lights. So, that, in a nut shell, is his somewhat unroutine routine

Back to my original post...

Moggy did not greet me when I drove up Friday night after work and a quick stop at the grocery store. Giving him time to come home,  I sat in the SUV a few minutes and caught up some FaceBook. Still no Moggy. I unloaded the groceries and brought them to the door, all the while calling his name softly.  I detected no movement in our "hood." Still, I was not really concerned since he had been couped up in the hotel room for two days during Christmas.  When we arrived home Thursday evening,  he had scooted out the carrier as soon as the cage door was opened wide enough for his body to squeeze through.  He scampered off and spent the day catting around the neighborhood--only returning  for a late dinner in the wee hours of  Friday morning.  But now, I was hoping he would return at his  normal time for his Friday din-din.  

After a long road trip, or any time his free time has been restricted, he fights back by staying out all night.  I get the resistance to being tethered. I've? The same way; however,  I sleep better once he's back home and I know he's okay. The first time he stayed out for and all-nighter, I was sure something bad happened to him.  I scoured the neighborhood and beyond, called the Belton Police Department, and  went to the Shelter the next day to make sure he hadn't been picked up.  Later that day he sauntered in and demanded some petting and food. Not in that order. This time I was marginally less worried.

Of course, there was still the possibility that having heard my SUV drive up, and my voice calling him for dinner, he may have gone to the back door--which is his most used entry door.  I decided I would check the back door as soon as I put the groceries away.  

I continued to scan the neighbohood as I opened the front door. Still no sign of him.  I sighed as I resigned myself to the realization that he would probably stay out until bedtime. Or later.

As soon as the front door was open enough for his little body to scoot out,  the little stinker shot out of the house!  He scared the daylights out of me, and elicited  a girly-girl shriek that could strip the bark off the trees and damage my vocal cords. Moggy had been inside all day.  Evidently he decided he would be an inside kitty, came back inside, and found a quiet place to rest his travel weary bones while I continued to get dressed that morning.

I'm  glad he was inside, out of the elements, while I was away at work.  However, I really need to find his latest hiding places. My nerves and vocal cords can't take surprises like that too often.

I Have Phloem and Xylem On My Hands

(This is a cheater post--it's a slightly expanded response to a FB Friends question. 😏)

I have a beautiful brand new container garden each and every year because, sadly, I am a killer with phloem and xylem on my hands.

Phloem and xylem are the sap, or lifeblood, of plants. Phloem is nutrient-rich and flows from leaves to the stem and roots feeding them sugar and other nutrients.  The Xylem is more water-based and flows from the roots up. (I am not smart enough to have known or remembered this, if I ever learned it back in school. It was information I read recently on the Texas A&M AgriLife Extension website.)

When I purchase a plant I tell it, "I picked you because you looked like you are strong enough to survive me. If I am right, and you survive, you will graduate to a 'real' container next year."

I have a few plants in real containers. A couple are actually over 10 or 15 years old.  But the vast majority are new each season.

When I was in Nursing School I had 22  beautiful, healthy, strong plants. The 23rd killed all of them. Now, even easy plants aren't as easy as they used to be. But "hope springs eternal."

Or maybe that should be, "Spring brings eternal hope."

Agriculturally as well as Spiritually.  😏

ESH

Moggy has a cough. He takes a steroid for Pemphigus (a feline skin auto immune disease, where his nose crusts and scabs). I didn't want the steroid to mask anything worse, so I've held it the last couple days and took him to the Vet today. It was also time for his regular Vet Check and shots. 

Because of my work schedule, a couple times I've had to leave Moggy at the Vet and pick him up after work.  My other option is to wait until Saturday and hope the Vets are not slammed.   During the visits where I've left him while I worked, I've received phone calls about his behavior.  No matter which Vet is on duty, they have never called me to describe exemplary behavior.

Additionally, one of the Vet Techs approached me a few months  back when Bandit and I were waiting outside. She called Bandit by name, which is normal since he was not your average pup; however, she was the first one to also mention Moggy, who was not with us. 

I was initially pleased that Moggy got some recognituin.  Until I realized it's not always a good thing when Vet staff, groomers, and others know your pet by name.  It turned out she knew Moggy, because she too had occassion to deal with his less than purrfect behavior.

After having dealt with Moggy when I'm not there, the last few visits they have insisted the Vet Techs be the ones to restrain Moggy during shots and procedures. They are always gentle, hold him securely, and allow me to be present. I know they are doing everything correctly.  Nonetheless Moggy does not like it and is quite vocal. On occassion he has also come out swiping. Moggy has been so violent they have even had to wrap their arms with towels for protection.  I don't think Moggy has ever bitten anyone--although he did nip me once when I first started administering his medication at home. He still protests when I have to give him pills.  Luckily his steroid is liquid. He takes it and the follow up syringe of water between bites of his cat food without incident.  

During our visit today Moggy, was on his best behavior.  He allowed the exam, the nail trim, and all but one injection without so much as a peep. Only during the final injection did he utter a tiny hiss. Better yet, his claws remained sheathed.  In fact, they only saw the light of day when the Vet extended them for the pawdicure. The Vet Tech was only in the room in case she was needed. She was not.

Today, the Vet and Vet Techs saw Moggy as the Sweet Kitty I know he can be.  

We decided it was because I am Moggy's  ESH. 

I wonder:  If I wear an  Emotional Support Human vest, will I be allowed special privilegs?