My Perpetual Kitten, Murdock

He is the silliest of cats.

His colouring is black, white, and devious. (There he is in  the photo with the nicest of cats, the great big ball of adorableness, Sifto.)

He sits on my shoulder because he thinks he's a parrot. I have to remind him that parrots don't purr like he does. And they're not quite so utterly pleased with themselves all the time.

He climbs things and looks to see how I react.

His big green eyes can be so evil, or so cute, depending on what he wants.

He mews like a wee bitty kitty when he doesn't want to exert energy. He sits at my feet with sad eyes until I pick him up. When I give in, his tail twitches because he is so delighted that he got his own way.

He loves to fight, and sometimes gets a bit carried away, as the scars on my hands and forearms will attest.

He always acts like he's starving, and then eats half of what I give to him, just so that he looks superior.


He's a superhero and a supervillain. He plays in boxes and loves to be cuddled. He likes jumping onto the piano as I'm practicing just to mess me up.

Sometimes he ignores me when I first arrive home after being away, but as the evening prolongs he cannot help himself, and has to come and say hello and lick my hand. Or my toe, which he knows I hate, but it's his way of showing he loves me.

I love him too.

Oh my oh my

I honestly do not know how to explain. Words are not enough. Well, I guess they are. But just imagine that everything I say has about 50,000 times more meaning than usual. 

We got some horses. 

One, named Pax, is Heather's. He's a beautiful guy, inside and out. 

The other, a mare, is mine, and I named her Kara. (Side note: Mom just reminded me that she's not *just* mine, she's everyone's. I know. But she's mine. You know what I mean? Heather knows what I mean. :)) Her name means "beloved", and she certainly is. Only, I don't know if she knows that yet. But she will. She also is beautiful. They both have such kind eyes. You know what I mean by kind eyes? Where it seems like their soul is peeking out, saying "it's okay. I'm gentle, and beautiful." 

Yesterday was the day we got them. It was a many hours-long drive, and my knees are sore today, but it was so worth it. We got Pax first, then Kara. Trailering them was stressful, but we got home safe and sound. 

Today was workout day number one. Heather came over and we haltered them (have you ever experienced a horse who will put his nose into the halter? A horse you don't have to fight? My goodness! That was a surprise!), then we brushed them and picked their hooves. 

I still have to get used to the fact that they're easy going Standardbreds, not hot, fiery Arabians. Wrap your brain around that, Linda. You can in fact walk between their two bums without worrying they might kick you. For the most part. 

After that, we put the saddle on Kara (she's been a month under the saddle - Pax has not been ridden at all), and hooked her up to the lunge line. She is so gorgeous when she's pacing. Just so's you know. 

After that, I climbed up on her back!!! :D :D :D 

She spooked a teeny, tiiiiiny bit when I got up - Heather and I think it's because I'm miles taller than the girl who used to ride her. A little more up there, so I guess a bit of a surprise. 

We walked. I talked. She listened. The day was beautiful. 

She even trotted a little bit. As I was walking, I'd turn her and she'd take these massive sideways steps - she's used to having a cart behind her. She'll get over that. 

By the time we were nearly done our pleasant walk, she was already responding to leg aids quite well. She's a natural. We'll have Christopher up on her in no time! (And then maybe all the nephews and nieces....by the way, we want Pax and Kara to some day have a cart to pull. Would that not be the most coolest thing ever?? A matched bay pair???? Come on. Tell me you're not getting excited.)

Anyway, I am exhausted. Today was a busy day, especially after 6 hours of painful sleep (a mixture of aching knees and worrying about the two beautiful horses in the barn.)

Did I mention they were beautiful? 

See for yourself:

Heather does most of the work:

And began Kara's workout. 

I was watching...

And I DID lunge her, and here's the picture of us walking back to the fence:

Kara foreground, Pax background. His halter says "I love my horse". :D Too cute.

See what I mean about their kind eyes? I mean, look! 

You agree they're beautiful, no? :D 

Our Poor Old Dog - God's Blessings

Well, it seems that we have to face reality.

Our dog, Fatty, is old.

This shouldn't be a sudden realization, because we've had him since he was born. We've watched him grow up, even as most of us grew up too. We watched as his face turned gray.

But none of this really mattered, because he was the same old dog - a puppy when playing outside, no matter what age. He would run about and leap and mock fight with anyone who was willing to stop and growl back.

What brought the sudden realization came a few days ago. Fatty fell from the couch in a seizure. It was the most surprising thing, because his face bore such an expression of fear and rage. His face was curled in a snarl which he never showed while people were around. He shook and ran on his side while we held him down and soothed him with calm words. Finally the shaking stopped, and he seemed to recover enough to sit up. He was dizzy, and his eyes had a cloudy look. He was nervous, and he hung around us, where normally he was fairly independent. He didn't always have to be with his people.

He had another seizure not too long afterward, and the dreaded thought began to creep into our heads: what if it is finally his time? What if we have to say goodbye?

It seemed that that would be the case. Mom phoned the vet, and scheduled an appointment to have him put down. As much as we loved him and wanted him with us, Fatty would be better off if he no longer endured these seizures that seemed to be coming more frequently as the minutes ticked by.

We woke up that morning with heavy hearts. We would have to say goodbye to our good old dog, who had always been there, a quiet fellow, but more than willing to show his love. There was not a mean, defiant bone in his body. He lived to serve and love us. Every one of us was heartsick.

And then came lunchtime. Fatty slept most of the afternoon, and at about 3:00 in the afternoon - his meeting with death was less than an hour away - he went outside. And he played, like he had never played before. His tail was wagging, his usual smile was back, he was hopping and racing around like a puppy, like he used to do. Mom and I watched him from inside, wondering if it was just some fluke. Could he really be feeling better? He hadn't had a seizure since before lunch - was he really going to be alright?

Well, now it's been a day and a half. Mom decided to cancel the appointment, and Fatty is still here with us. He hasn't had a seizure since Thursday before lunch. He seems a little bit dizzy still, almost as if he is losing his sight. But a blind dog is easy to handle. A seizing dog is not.

So, what can we get from this?

First of all, God is Good. He blesses us so much - with a dog that, for over nine years, has been a constant and loving companion to the entire family. Such memories we have, and not one of them bitter. Fatty has been an excellent dog.

Second, God answers prayer. Tiana prayed for Fatty as she lay in bed Wednesday night. She truly believes that this is why Fatty recovered. We all do - God has promised us that He will answer our prayers.

Third, God sends us trials to refine us - to test us. Will we trust Him in the tough times as well as the good times? All we can say is "the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away; BLESSED be the name of the Lord!" What more do we have the right to say? Can we argue with God? No! We can only praise him continually!

I am so very thankful that Fatty is doing better. Hopefully he will stick around a few more years, so we can continue to enjoy him as the blessing he is.