Enjoying Life - Social Media Edition

I've posted quite a few photos (a lot for me, at least) on a few social media sites the past couple of months. One of my cousins commented on one of those photos--a typical photo of me enjoying scotch and cigars on a weekend, the one below, actually:

A lovely afternoon in the mountains of Colorado enjoying single malt scotch and a cigar.

My cousin's comment was: "You always look like you're enjoying life."

I thought about the comment and for the most part I think I do enjoy life, however, I am at times dour and cynical and unhappy. Chalk it up to my day job in law enforcement, I suppose. And even with my job there are many days of awesome and it's all fuel for my writing. But the point of this post isn't to complain or point out that my life sucks. It doesn't. It's not even close to sucking. I'm fortunate and I am aware of how fortunate I am.

One of the many points I'm attempting to make is this: I choose to use social media and interact on social media in positive ways. People will typically only see positive items from me on the internet and that may give the impression I'm having a good time, all the time (extra credit if you got that movie quote, I'll put the answer below). You know what? I certainly attempt to have a good time, but most of the time. Life is too short.

Sure, I may slip in a post or comment once in a while that isn't positive, but that is rare event. I will comment or post on grief, but grief is my exception to "negative" comments and posts on social media. I don't often vent or discuss personal problems and issues (I think I commented once that I needed to listen to Slayer or some death metal during a commute, but that was sort of meant to be funny though the commute that day was horrible). The people who need to know my personal matters are made aware and I'll discuss those in person or in private messages and email. I prefer speaking to people and seeing their reactions and body language (again, my job requires speaking with people face to face rather than through email, texting, and utilizing emojis). I'm not good at emailing people back or even participating in text discussions. Actually being in the company of people works for me.

There is enough negativity and hate in the world without me chiming in and adding more to that pile of you know what. I rarely complain on social media, and rarely get upset and make negative comments on social media. Why would I? There are too many people doing that already and what does it accomplish? Negativity is low hanging fruit, and even if you mean well and are trying to have a civilized dialogue, people are too easily outraged these days over someone else's opinion. I do not typically engage in political disputes or those regarding religion. There are more mundane and useless items people get upset over, such as trending news: I don't care if Bieber grabbed his crotch, or that the Coldplay guy said Rihanna was the Frank Sinatra of this generation. I'm a huge Sinatra fan, but really, who cares? But people get upset and "outraged" over that sort of nonsense.

I applaud the dedication of the people working for me, but I tell them from time to time that on their deathbed they aren't going to be thinking about all those extra hours they put in working. Instead, I'd likely lament not having spent enough time with family and friends, and perhaps thinking such things as: "Why didn't I travel more?" or "I should have gotten back in touch with (insert name of person here)," or "I always wanted to learn to (insert thing here)." That sort of thing. Along the same lines: will you be thinking about the person who trolled you on the internet or that thing you can't even remember that upset you so much on the internet all those years ago? I doubt it. I'm not saying don't take up a cause, please do. Just don't get too upset when people sh*t all over it, they're not worth the time and energy, especially when hiding behind a computer screen somewhere on the internet. Have meaningful discussions with your friends and acquaintances, in person if at all possible. Hell, try a Google Hangout, even that's way better than flame wars with people you don't really know, or even want to know. I've found people tend to be more reasonable when having to look me in the eye.

There are so many wonderful topics to write about and discuss, why would I choose to drop more negativity into an already overflowing cesspool of hate, negativity, and derision? I want to smile, but I'm too often frowning when I'm on certain social media sites.

Enough negativity! I started going down that path during this post and I'm done with it!

I enjoy posting about books, writing, film, travel, music, mens style (or lack of), outings with my wife, my cats, drinking (scotch, gin, mules, beer, and, you get the picture), smoking cigars, and sitting on my deck.

Post something humorous!

 Eater of boats

Tell us about the stuff you enjoy. You have hobbies, right? People and pets you love and care for? 

How about a photo of people having a good time?

Give us more cat and dog photos!

Enjoy life!

Oh, here is the quote I mentioned above. It's from the awesome "Rockumentary", This Is Spinal Tap:

"Have...a good time...all the time." Viv Savage, keyboardist for Spinal Tap.

A funny film, and even funnier if you've been in a band.

Consider Adopting A Shelter Pet

My wife and I always think of animal shelters as the Island of Misfit Toys, if you've seen the Christmas special, "Rudolph The Red-nosed Reindeer", you already know what this means, but the island was a place where all the defective toys were sent and were waiting to be loved by a child. Whenever we pass a shelter, we always think of the scene where the toys are sad because no one wants them.

                Misfit toys around a campfire

The toys are later rescued and they're happy that they'll be in a home where they'll be loved.

          Misfit Toys Rejoicing!

As we head into summer, and kids are off from school, I'm sure many families look into getting a pet for the household. Consider adopting from a shelter--there are so many wonderful animals waiting for you to adopt them! Give these guys a chance, many have been returned to a shelter, or worse, abandoned when they became a problem (the problem is usually humans who do not understand the adopted animal and what they need). Some are simply old and after all those years of companionship the family no longer wants to "deal" with them.

All of the photos I've included in this post are of cats we rescued from shelters over the years. The next two photos are Woobie--adopted way back in the late 90s when he was just a little guy in a shelter in the Mojave Desert. He was my best friend and traveled the across the country with me multiple times, driving and flying. Woobie was named after the blanket in Mr. Mom since he always wanted to be near me. He was a wonderful cat, and I still miss him.

     Woobie after a trip to the hospital

Woobie stretched out--such a white belly!

The next two images are of Juniper, a sweet and loving (almost) 17yr old friend. She's also been all over the country, but was adopted in the Los Angeles area. She loves to snuggle and help me when I'm writing (she'll tuck herself in behind me, which makes me sit up straight!). She's required subcutaneous fluids every other day for the past year or so (for kidney failure), but it's worth it, she's so loving and sweet, and as long as she's not suffering we'll keep doing it.

                   Juniper all tucked in

           Juniper on the deck, so sweet

Bumble, the character in the next couple of images, was adopted after Woobie passed away back in 2011. Bumble was our first Colorado cat. He's a lovely piebald cat who was named after the Abominable Snowman from the above-mentioned "Rudolph" Christmas special, which Yukon Cornelius called the Bumble. He's full of energy, but also loves to snuggle and be around us, he'll even steal my spot on the sofa when I lean forward or move! Bumble was diagnosed with premature kidney failure and lost a lot of weight a couple of years ago. He requires some medication, but he's rebounded and the vet believes we've halted his kidney failure.

We like to torture ourselves on occasion and visit a shelter, and during one visit, discovered a little black bear of a cat named Pepper. Pepper's owner passed away and the owner's son simply tossed Pepper outside into the cold. A neighbor scooped him up and took him to a no-kill shelter which is where we adopted him. Black cats are often overlooked by people, but Pepper's story was so sad and he'd been at the shelter for a long time before we took him home. Pepper may have been 10 when we adopted him, and he passed away last year from cancer--the three years he was with us were wonderful. He was such a handsome guy.

We were heartbroken after Pepper passed away so suddenly last July, and we weren't sure if we were ready for another cat, but then we heard about Buddy. Buddy was being fostered at a home after his owner had boarded him and never returned--we're not sure what happened to the owner. Buddy was 18 when we adopted him and recently turned 19. Many people do not want to adopt older cats, but Buddy does not act like a senior. He's active and loving. He must have been treated well by his previous owner. He puts a smile on my face in the morning (which is hard to do most of the time, just ask my poor wife). Buddy is healthy, but is deaf and is starting to get cataracts. He is so sweet though, and we just can't believe he is 19 (and neither can the vet). He can still jump with the best of them!

Shelter pets are wonderful and many of the cats we've adopted over the years would have been overlooked or passed over. Black cats, elderly cats, or cats with conditions after often those misfit toys that only want to be loved. Buddy healed our hearts after Pepper passed away--kittens are wonderful, but that 19yr old cat was exactly what we needed. We thought we were rescuing him, but he rescued us.

The Loss Of A Loved One

On July 29, 2015 we lost Pepper. The loss of Pepper devastated us since upon adopting him, he'd always been our most sturdy and healthy cat and we thought we'd have many more years with him. We'd only adopted him 3 years earlier after he'd spent 9 months in the Evergreen Animal Protective League's no-kill shelter. The shelter believed he was around 8 or 9 when we adopted him. Pepper's story touched us--his previous owner (I don't like that word, so perhaps his previous human or his previous mom works) passed away and her family, rather than take Pepper, simply tossed him outside. A neighbor found him and took him to the shelter.

The first photo is of Pepper at the shelter. The kind people there told us he was depressed for months after his owner passed. We visited the shelter and I found Pepper beneath a bench and all I could see were two yellow-green eyes peering back at me. Pepper came out of hiding and ended up following us around the shelter's cat room, apparently that was rare since the woman working there remarked on his emergence.

It took a while for Pepper to completely trust us, maybe an entire year, though he certainly let his guard down around us quite early on, but in the last year or so he was so happy. Take a look at this photo, he couldn't be more relaxed, right? He loved nothing more than taking a nap on his mom's legs while she read a book or took a nap herself (well, he loved food, too--all sorts of food).

Pepper was a huge presence in our home, a presence we miss (and our other two cats have not acted the same since Pepper passed). We still expect to see him lounging around, or following us, or running into the pantry when it's dinner time. Pepper contemplated every move he made--he never simply reacted, but pondered his next action. Pepper didn't leap without looking. He's probably the smartest cat I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Though Pepper was thoughtful and serious, he could also do goofy things, and not always on purpose, like the next two photos:

Below is a little more detail on Pepper's illness and his passing if you're interested:

Pepper was taken to the vet on Friday, July 24th due to his sides ballooning out. He was immediately referred to an animal hospital for ultrasounds. The ultrasound revealed what they believed to some sort of structure--they would not label it a cyst or tumor. The surgeon recommended exploratory abdominal surgery--the hope was they'd take out this "structure". The belief was that this structure could be pressing on an organ and causing fluid build-up, but also that this could be cancer. The surgery was scheduled for Tuesday, July 28th, so we were lucky to have Pepper back home with us over the weekend. For the most part he was his old self--eating, relaxing, and rolling around on the deck, but by Monday he had gone down hill quite a bit. He didn't want to eat and barely wanted to drink water. Tuesday morning I found him in the cat carrier (which was odd considering he used to fight us like crazy when we had to put him in there) ready to go to the vet. The carrier wasn't out in the open, it was in a closet downstairs that wasn't all that easy to access.

We took him to the hospital Tuesday morning and learned a lot about cat anatomy from the surgeon, who was really friendly (all the people at Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital were great). What they found when they opened Pepper up was not a "structure" at all, but all of his organs pressed together by the fluids that had built up. And it was cancer. No cure. Nothing they could do, but possibly shoot him full of drugs that may have killed the cancer cells, but not cure him. Pepper's blood pressure was low (70/40) throughout the entire night and into the next day.  We spent time with him that night and the next morning, Wednesday, July 29th. Our vet called and offered to come down from Evergreen to the hospital in the Denver area.

Once the vet arrived, she explained how dire the situation was for Pepper and we had no choice but to put him to sleep. She explained that his death would likely be ugly and painful--either his organs would shut down from low blood pressure, or the cancer would get him even if his blood pressure came back up. So we had to make one of the hardest decisions of our lives, even though we knew it was the best for Pepper.

Behind Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital is a courtyard with grass and some trees. Pepper was unhooked from all the various monitoring equipment and drugs keeping him alive and we took him out to the courtyard. My wife held Pepper in her arms and he lifted his head as the breeze touched his nose. He glanced up, and this is what he saw above:

We petted him, told him how much we loved him, and he drifted off and passed away in seconds once the vet administered the drugs. Reliving the moment just now transported me back to the 29th of July and that courtyard, and brought me to tears, making this difficult to finish.

Pepper deserved happiness and peace, and I hope we were able to provide that for him during the three years we were lucky enough to have with him. During those three years, Pepper taught us so much. He taught me patience. He taught me the value of quiet contemplation and deliberate action.

I came across this quote from A. A. Milne:  "Some people talk to animals. Not many listen though. That's the problem."  Pepper spoke to us quite often--he communicated with us and it took us so long to understand what he wanted or how he felt about something we were doing.

I miss Pepper. I miss all his little quirks. I miss his slow blinks and his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He used to sit on our luggage before we'd go on a trip--he hated when we were not around. Pepper woke us each morning, based on when the sun would rise--and if he heard us move a little, he'd go away and come back in 10 minutes, just like a little snooze button.  When I was out of town, Pepper would hop up on the bed and check on my wife as she went to sleep, just to be sure she was okay, then he would hop down and crawl into his own little bed.

I miss his presence. The house seems so empty without him.

Here is Pepper with his favorite person, his mom: