Tag Archives: cat lady

Ditching the 4th and Other Summertime Reflections

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“First of the fall
And then she goes back
Bye, bye, bye, bye there
Them summer days
Those summer days”

Lyrics from “Hot Fun in the Summertime” by Sly Stone
Sung by Sly and the Family Stone

Clouds rolled in at sunset creating a moody mid-September sky, giving us a sneak-peak of autumn. I watched Mother Nature’s magic from the bedroom through the French doors that I just closed. Samantha and I were in for the night; well, almost. The French door to the catio was wide open, showcasing my newly refurbished garden. Samantha sashayed out to the catio where I had spent most of the day sweeping, de-leafing, hosing, re-potting plants and organizing their arrangements on the side of the house that wraps around to the entry, dubbed the “catio.” Its ivy-accented lattice and wood slat fence enclosure makes for a safe and cozy outdoor space for Samantha Jo. I poured a glass of wine then sat on the pavers next to my girl. She rolled on her back inviting me to play “tickle-tickle” as we awaited John’s (Papa John to Samantha) arrival from his band’s gig at a local party. Samantha’s eye injury finally healed, with only a hint of scar tissue remaining. I love seeing her sassy and happy again.

With fall in the air, summer already feels like a distant memory. One memory I’m sure Samantha has blocked is our 4th of July catastrophe. Since Samantha came into my life in April 2021, 4th of July holidays have been fraught with anxiety. With one firework show two blocks from the cottage and another one mile down the road, no amount of gabapentin or calming spray has been able to quell Samantha’s fear response to the bombastic noise, nor the raucous sounds from inebriated tourists parked up and down the street exiting the neighborhood. I couldn’t allow her suffer through another 4th. John and I had a brilliant idea: we booked a room at a pet-friendly hotel away from firework shows. We would have a peaceful evening of sipping wine, playing Yahtzee, and listening to music—not the sound of simulated bombs, and Samantha would be batting around her favorite mousey toys and lounging on the bed. Or not…

As we entered the suite, the smells of urine and something chemical assaulted our senses. Apparently a pet had peed and the smell could not be eradicated. The hallway outside our room was as busy as Pacific Coast Highway on a summer day with guests coming and going, slamming doors and loudly conversing. Our plan to order room service dinner delivery was nixed when we learned the hotel restaurant was closed. And the “lovely” patio suite was on the periphery of an emergency vehicle road and the patio was a small slab of concrete.

John went to a near-by grocery store to grab sandwiches for dinner and he picked up a lavender aromatic spray to snuff out the putrid smells. I eagerly took off the wrapper, put my finger to the spray pump, and instead of lavender scented spray wafting into the air, it dribbled down my arm. A broken nozzle? Seriously? At this point, we burst out in hysteric laughter. Although, Samantha didn’t see the humor. She anxiously paced the room while sniffing the carpet, periodically stopping to growl at the door. She managed to unwind after the people-traffic died down, but was still on high alert every time someone walked by the room. Samantha couldn’t fully relax, and neither could we, so we packed our bags and got the hell outta there, arriving back at the cottage after the crowds were gone and the fireworks were over. Samantha hopped onto the bed and settled in for the night as though the Hotel Hell incident never happened.

We hope you all had a great summer!

Enjoy the pictorial of some summertime highlights.

We spent many nights at the Sawdust Festival… I could almost live in this playhouse built by Habitat for Humanity, which was up for auction.

We enjoyed music–Samantha and I listening to records…John singing and strumming folk rock classics at a private party…

An off-the-hook Shawn Jones Big Band concert at Bluebird Park…

Cat-themed picks for my radio show with DJ John Ford on KXFM 104.7. Tune in to the AM Radio show (Americana music and more), Sundays from 3:00 to 5:00 104.7 on your dial if you’re in the Laguna Beach area or listen live at kxfmradio.org.  DJ PK (that’s me) co-hosts every second Sunday.

Reading compelling essays in The Sun

Cat lady in a cave! We attended a block party in a neighborhood that has its very own cave, and spent more time in the cave than groovin’ with the party guests.

And Along Came Samantha

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In the winter of 2021, I was grappling with the loss of Bobcat. He’d been one of my feline companions for about seven years. After his best pal, Lexington passed away in December of 2019, Bobcat and I formed a deeper bond. Without Lex, I could focus all my attention on Bobcat and he lapped it up, becoming more affectionate and playful. We became so in tuned with each other, it was no surprise that Bobcat knew I had cancer before I did. The weaker I became, the stronger he doted on me. I couldn’t lie on the sofa without him settling in on my lap with his face inches from mine. I would hold him and he would “kiss” my forehead and stare into my eyes, as if trying to heal me. He became my nursemaid from pre-cancer diagnosis, during treatments up until two weeks before cancer surgery, when he experienced renal failure after a battle with diabetes, and passed.

I was a cat lady with no cats for the first time in thirty-three years. It was an adjustment that I could not get accustomed to. After a couple months of grieving, I’d had enough.

* * *

Samantha Jo (fka Annie) was under weight, had badly matted fur and three bladder stones when she was relinquished to the Laguna Beach Animal Shelter. When I met her she was recovering from bladder stone removal surgery. We locked eyes as I stepped into the small room in the shelter in which she was staying. She hopped down from the top of the cabinet she was perched upon and sashayed over to me. I sat down on a towel that was on the floor. She sat next to me then put her paw on the top of my hand and let out a soft “mew.” When I laid eyes on her, I knew we were a perfect pair, and this validated she felt the same way.

My adoption application was approved that day, but Samantha was still recovering and couldn’t be released for a couple weeks, and I had my final chemo treatment to endure and recover from. The adoption would have to be put off. In the meantime, the shelter let me visit.

On April 2, 2021, Samantha came home with me. Although we had a connection, she was guarded for the first year, keeping her distance as we got to know each other. I would often catch her staring at me from across the room, a penetrating stare as though she was sizing me up wondering if I would keep her, or if she’d end up back at the shelter. And if I tried to pick her up, she instantly wriggled out of my arms.

Today, Samantha Jo is my constant companion. I can’t be in the kitchen without her overseeing my every move, from pouring a glass of wine to making tea. She seeks me out to play tag, keeps me company as I work, and once in a while when I pick her up, she melts into my chest, and lets me hold her.

News Flash: I wrote a short story prequel to this adoption story, which is being published in a beloved book series of over 275 titles that has sold more than 110 million copies across the U.S. and Canada, and in 2008 became the best-selling trade paperback series of all time.

I’ll share details over the coming weeks before the sales release date, May 20th!

Sore Back and Sour Grass

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I looked out the French doors to see Samantha Jo perched on the small round table in the yard. We caught eyes and she gave me a slow blink, beaconing me to come out and play, but play was not possible for me. After toting Samantha to the vet three times within ten days for a corneal ulcer (she’s now healed), the right side of my back under the ribs became sore. I quelled the pain with arnica gel and continued with usual activities over the following few days without too much discomfort—until trash pick-up day. As I pulled my large, full recycle bin to the curb, it went over a rock that caused the bin to teeter, pulling me along with it. I managed to stop the bin from toppling, and was relieved to have diverted a mess of recyclables all over the walkway.

But by 3:00 that Friday afternoon, I got up from my desk to make a cup of tea and a spasm fired through my back. After a few more painful spasms, I realized my back got the brunt of the recycle bin spill recovery. I took a prescription Motrin, put an icepack on my back, and kept on working. I managed to get through the weekend with minimal pain, but by Tuesday the spasms became frequent, and at times, debilitating.

Finally, by Saturday morning, I felt some relief. Icing, Motrin, and minimizing activity were helping. I started wearing a back brace that I’d worn years ago after a car accident and luckily, still had buried in my sock drawer. Thank you to friend Alisa for suggesting I wear a back brace. Its support of the inflamed muscles reduced pain, allowing easier mobility.

Feeling confident that I could walk the distance to Samantha, I opened the French doors and stepped onto the porch. After slowly walking towards my girl, I eased myself into the chair next to the table where Samantha remained perched. The yard was vibrant with lemon clovers. The yellow flowers looked happy with their petals wide open, facing the sun. The scene made me reflect on a time in childhood, when I would eat the stems of lemon clovers, which I knew as sour grass because of the taste. I picked one of the yellow flowers and taunted Samantha by grazing it across the table. She pawed at the stem as I pulled it away then brought it back to her face. She wacked at it a few times, but this wasn’t the same as chasing me around the yard. She quickly became uninterested.I picked another flower and wondered if I would still enjoy the sour taste after all these decades. Being a curious cat lady, I couldn’t just wonder. I bit the stem. The savory flavor took me back to being a kid again, hanging out in a neighborhood field with my brother Jeff, eating sour grass.

Samantha didn’t know what she was missing.In the photo below, I captured Lexington lounging in the lemon clovers. Now he lives on in my book, Two Cats, a Mermaid and the Disappearing Moon, which is now sold at Little Freebirds, a charming children’s boutique in Laguna Beach!