After a day of cloud and wind and rain

Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,

And touching all the darksome woods with light,

Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing,

Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring,

Drops down into the night.

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Travel and Transition.... these will be the theme words for my summer. And thus, I'm afraid I won't be blogging much. But I wanted to part with this photo of the sunset from my deck. It is quite representative of my journey right now, but with hope that the dawn will be even more glorious.

I may be able to stop in here and there. And you can also e-mail me through the address on my profile if you'd like to keep in touch that way. I will miss every one of you and wish you all a wonderful summer!

Speaking of Brave....

The little kitten tops that list. I thought I'd give an update on her after all the comments from the last post. Colleen apparently had some uncanny insight, as she left a comment saying that it seemed the kitten was a metaphor for our throw-away society.

After examining her, the veterinarian concluded she had blunt head trauma, most likely from being thrown out a car window.... and she'd probably have permanent neurological damage. I must have happened upon her right after she had been thrown out, thus her dazed and disoriented condition. They kept her at the clinic to observe her for 2 days and then I picked her up and brought her home. She was at least partially blind, not responding to visual stimuli. She couldn't walk... she would walk in circles and tumble down on herself. And she was having seizures about every 10 minutes. I really didn't think there was much hope for her.

I kept her in a crate in our utility room (i'm not supposed to have indoor pets) and tried to make her comfortable, but knew I'd have to make a decision about euthanizing. If her condition stayed the same, she would have a miserable life. It pained me to watch her try to walk and topple over backwards in the effort.... and how she huddled in the corner with a look of terror in her eyes before each seizure. The only hopeful sign was her appetite. She was a little piggy, and thus I nicknamed her "Miss Piggy". She also had a loud motor and purred contentedly when I held her or pet her.

We had plans to go out of town for the weekend, and Fiddlegirl agreed to keep kitty for us. When I was driving her there, Miss Piggy had the worst seizure yet, and my heart sank. I worried about her the whole weekend and knew the decision I'd probably have to make when I returned.

But amazingly, when we returned, Fiddlegirl told me she had a seizure the first night, but had none since. And she was letting the kids hold her, and was walking better. I took her home and observed the same. She was still a little wobbly, but could walk without falling over. And over the next week, she continued to improve. She still couldn't see well, but she would find me by my voice. I'd let her out of the crate when I'd be outside, and she would trot underfoot, and run around and chase Sir Laughsalot. And the seizures had completely subsided. You wouldn't have been able to guess that she was the same little kitty that I found limp and lethargic on the side of the road. I could barely keep up with her newfound energy and playfulness..

We can't have inside pets, and I knew she needed to be inside because of the blindness. But it just so happened that a local animal rescue organization was having a pet adoption fair this past weekend and told me to bring her. So I did..... and to my heart's delight, a young married couple fell in love with her there, and adopted her on the spot.

A small miracle, that reminded me about hope.....