I live off a major highway. When we moved here, the road was rural, two lanes with not much traffic. There was a major road already going into town, past picturesque houses and forests. But then the railroad decided to open up the old tracks and since these tracks crossed this major road, they decided to turn our two lane road into a four lane highway. Bulldozers arrived and carved out a large portion of our front yard. As the trees were mowed down and hauled away, I felt the sadness for the progress.

On this road on a daily basis, there are homeless people most on bikes but some on foot. They scavenge for discarded aluminum cans stuffing them into their hand sacks or baskets. They will turn these into cash to use for whatever purpose be it food, wine or drugs- their choice. The going rate here is $0.05 a can so they are out every day trying to eke out a living. The cans are picked up after being put through the machines and being crushed. They travel to special plants where they are made into new, bright and shiny recycled cans ready for a new purpose. I wish I had that same option.

A few days ago, on another blog I posted about how I dress up black cats in doggy clothes in order to find them new homes. “Brilliant” someone commented- Truth is, I don’t feel very brilliant these days. I’m decomposing I think. With the health issues of my husband weighing heavily on me each day, my brilliance is fading. I will be driving him 60 miles a day, 5 days a week for two months to Corvallis Hospital where he will undergo radiation treatment for prostate cancer. The treatment, we are told is not invasive as far as side effects go- versus the other four options and their treatment. But what is invasive is the prep prior to the surgery. They have to move things out of the way internally so that the radiation hits the proper spot. Not a fun thing.

The hit on our finances is going to be major. It’s a long drive and gas prices keep going up all adding to worries. We have an option for him to stay at a Hospitality House but he has to be self-sufficient. I can’t stay with him, because of the cats. Besides, I would feel as if I am abandoning him. Although the treatment won’t have severe side effects- there are some side effects that he shouldn’t face alone.

We are still waiting for the decision about his foot. Are they going to do the surgery and when they do, will they be able to save the foot or take the leg? We won’t know for about a week- scheduled is an MRI to explore how much the Charcot’s Food Disease has invaded his bone and tissue. It’s a pins and needles wait. Those of you who might be reading this and are fighting a weight battle, please heed my words. Diabetes is nasty and silent and it strikes so quickly. Even when you think you might have it all under control that control can just slip away and leave you floundering.

The only thing working for me is my cats. They are my solace and my strength. I know with all this coming down the pike that I have to get my numbers down, so I started marketing these cats to the best of my abilities. It seems to have paid off because I have adopted out 16 cats/kittens within three weeks. I ask tough questions to people answering my ad. One lady flew off the handle with me and asked me in an email; “Why do you need to know all of this just so I can adopt a cat? After all, it’s JUST A CAT!” I never answered her, nor did I visit her home with Fog, the kitty she was interested in. My thoughts if you can’t answer my questions, you don’t deserve my time let alone my kitties!

I spend a lot of time talking to God and crying. I was watching a dumb commercial late last night and I just started tearing up! On a commercial for heaven’s sake! I know I need to get articles on my website felinexpress. New articles mean traffic and traffic increases the Internet Kitty. But I sit at the computer tapped out. I don’t want to write just to fill up space. I want my writing to mean something, to help people. Yet, my brain keeps quiet.

My glue is my cats. Tover and Taxi appear to know when I am at my breaking point. They will jump up on my lap and curl around my neck strategically to become my kitty Kleenex, catching my tears on their soft fur. Tover nuzzles my neck and tries to let me know that all will be okay. He is a kitty optimist. I need to listen to his wisdom.

My hope is using this Blog as a dumping ground will unplug my creativity and allow me to do what I need to do. I need to write. To put articles of value on feline and allow the people who surf in to know that they learned something during their visit and didn’t waste their time.

So it leaves the decision to recycle myself up to me. By using prayer and trying to find ways to get out of the house for even a short period of time, to breathe, to take a walk even in the storm to quell all the uneasiness I feel inside and to find my center again.

A dear friend recently told me:”All I can do is all I can do, and I am enough.” She told me to remember the cat who just arrived here, frozen under the bed and unwilling or unable to move. Masking the sweetness, blocked from moving forward or back because of the fear of the “what if’s or might have’s.” I need to not be that cat. I need to be that recycled can moving forward…with a new purpose.