In my time I've shared my life with three Maine Coon Cats.  There is nothing about this breed not to love.  They are intelligent, loving and all around good companions that become family. 

My first was a female Maine Coon named Tanya.  When I first met her, I was walking past her and her front paw reached out and grabbed my pants leg.  It was love at first sight.  She was my family for 12 years and then died from mammary cancer.

My next Maine Coon was Harry...who was a rescue.  He was Mr. Congeniality.  I've never met any cat that loved everyone as much as he did.  If someone was at the door, he would run to greet them.  I have a fond memory of a Memorial Day weekend party at my home.  Every time I looked for him someone was holding him, someone was petting him or someone was playing with him.  The next day, he was so exhausted from all of the entertaining and the "attention" that all he could do was sleep.  In spite of having a heart murmur, he lived to be 18 and 1/2 years old.

My last Maine Coon was CJ (short for Casey Jones which was his name on his papers).  When I adopted him, the vet forewarned me that he had a heart murmur.  Because Harry had lived to be a ripe old age in spite of his heart murmur, that fact did not bother me.  I adopted CJ with my eyes wide open.  CJ had a good life...he was my family and my nickname for him was "Little Friend."  He was not only an independant dude but he was also a one man cat.  And I was able to share 13+ years of life with him...and I believe it was a very good life for him.  He was about seven years old when I retired...and then we both moved from Pacifica, CA to NW Wisconsin.  We went from a one bedroom condo to a 2,100 square foot house with lots of windows including two bay windows, one French door, and one sliding glass door.  Here he positively thrived.  He loved watching critters from the windows.  He even had a dog friend that would come a visit.  CJ was one happy little guy.  Sadly, that abruptly ended 11/5/2022.  CJ died unexpectedly of advanced heart disease.  The loss of my little friend...my intrinsic family member was so sudden and unexpected, that I've had a hard time coming to terms with his transition.

Advanced heart disease???  What the hell???  He was fine, running around, eating like he always did...and then he was dead.  Suddenly his hind legs were paralyzed...and three hours later he died.

Since the day that CJ died, I've done some research regarding heart disease with Maine Coon Cats.  I was surprised to learn that 30% to 34% of all Maine Coon Cats are born with this defect.  Some die at two, three and six years old.  At this point in time there is little that can be done about this defect.  My comforting thought is that the love and loving forever home I gave CJ allowed him to be 13+ years old.

This is not a cautionary tail.  If you adopt a Maine Coon Cat they will easily become your family and fill your life with joy.  However, if your Maine Coon is diagnosed with a heart murmur (one of the first signs of the defect), love her/him with all of your heart and make sure their days are filled with adventure...for their love of you is unconditional.  Make sure that although their life may be short, it will be the best life ever.

I believe that I did that for CJ although I did not realize how that the hours, days and years were being counted.  It was worth every minute.

​

This week I have been thinking of my first Thanksgiving living in the San Francisco Bay Area.  I cannot remember who all was there and the pictures I have only include three of us.  However, I do remember we roasted a 22 pound turkey in the oven of the wonderful Okeefe/Merritt gas range that was in my apartment.  We ate appetizers and drank the whole time the bird was in the oven.  By time dinner was served, we were all sloppily happy.  Diane made the mashed potatoes with a mixer while drunk...and I had to clean off the cupboards and counters the day after...she must of held the mixer in the air, still running and coated with potatoes.  I do remember it was a very good dinner, however.

​There so many good memories in my life such as this.  I miss my friends and wild exuberant fun we used to have.  Both Diane and Bill are no longer with us...they died within one week of each of other from cancer...each had a different kind.  Although they are missed, the memory of days such as this makes my heart smile.

It's been well over a week since CJ has died.  This time has been amongst the saddest of times that I have experienced.  I am getting used to the idea that he is no longer here, yet I see him everywhere.  The memories are real yet so elusive.  I see him in his kitty bed in the bay window, resting his head and paws on the edge as he observed the world.  In quiet moments I hear him munching on his food and purring.  Or, I hear his little feet rushing up the stairs and flying around the corner leaving rugs scattered his wake.

When I look again, it is all gone.  I was blessed with his companionship...his friendship...for a little over 13 years.  So many good memories are incorporated into that time.  And, I know, it is good that he did not suffer.  Yet the shock of his sudden passing is numbing.

​Life moves on, eh?

"That gentle purr you hear on the breeze is me. I am waiting here for you to cuddle me in your arms once more."  ~Anonymous

This past Saturday, 11/5/2022, CJ crossed the Rainbow Bridge.  He was a little over 13 years old and his transition was sudden and shocking.  Here is my recount of Saturday:

"The whole thing was so sudden that I am still in shock. It was a day that started like any other...the minute I was up CJ wanted to be fed (which I did) and there were lots of purrs along with my laughter as he "helped" me make the bed. (NOT). Then suddenly late afternoon his hind legs became paralyzed. I rushed him to emergency in Oakdale. The doctor at the emergency said he had advanced heart disease (?) Yup. A blood clot had paralyzed his spine. They were not sure if they could keep him alive through the weekend. They brought him in to see me so we could say our goodby…he started purring the minute he saw me. I petted him, I kissed his ears, and said “I love you my little friend.” Then the doctor administered the drug…and he turned his head and buried it against my neck…and he was gone.

My life is very empty right now...I miss my little friend. Goodbye CJ, I love you and I miss you so much...but please wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge and know that it won't be the long until I will be there looking for you."

My little friend and I had 13+ wonderful years together and this makes his parting so much more painful.
​

"A time to reflect" is an overused cliche.  Yet there are times in life when one realizes that is exactly what they are doing.  Since the first of this year I have had some minor health issues that largely incapacitated me.  Being unable to operate, gave me a lot of time for reading, sleeping, watching television, eating...and yes, time for reflection.  In summation I've come to the conclusion that I have lived a good life.  At the end, I have family that are friends and friends that are family...and they all get along.  What more could I ask for?

In fact the other morning, while enjoying strong cup of coffee, I observed to CJ (my cat):  "CJ, you know what, we have landed really well."  We have a warm and comfortable home.  He has critters to watch...and in fact, he thrives in this space.  I have classical music to listen to and good books to read.  What more could I ask for?

Lastly, as I have mentioned, I dealt with health issues this year that impaired my functionability.  Now those health seem to be in the rearview mirror of my life.  And I ask once again,  what more could I ask for?

​You see, I have health, home, food, love.  What more could I ask for?

​This picture just popped up on FB this morning on the site for Bruce/Exeland…and tears immediately filled my eyes.  Esther and Charlie Turner.  They were close friends of Mom and Dad.  Whenever Esther and Charlie had been in Bruce shopping, the place they stopped for coffee on their way home was Mom’s and Dad’s house.  I remember all of them sitting around gossiping  and laughing.  Charlie was an old lumberman from the days when lumber was king in that part of Wisconsin…and he loved telling tall tales which mesmerized this little kid that was me.  They did not have much but they had big warm hearts.  Their house was four rooms and you had to use an outhouse.  Yet the house was always immaculately clean.  Sometime us kids (me and their grandkids) would camp out under the stars in their front yard.  No tent.  Just blankets and pillows and stars over our heads when we eventually would fall asleep.  A big breakfast always greeted us the next morning.  Esther and I would go looking for Christmas trees together (I was 10, 11, and 12 years old) in the woods across the road from their house.  I remember both of us plowing through the snow hauling our trees behind us and she being so patient with my 10 year old babbling.  When Charlie died, she remarried and it was not a good marriage.  I don’t believe it was abusive but she was not the same.  When Esther died it was at church (the Island Lake Church of Christ) during service.  She was with a friend…and the friend felt her suddenly lean against her…and Esther was gone.  This picture…these memories make my heart ache.  It aches because the times shared were so pricelessly wonderful…and it aches because they are now gone and only alive in my heart.  How fleeting these moments are???  I wish I could go back and experience them once again.

It is now Monday morning and I am sitting here enjoying the luxury of a hot mug of coffee, of the lights being on as well as the warmth of heat.

Yesterday was not the same as today.  Saturday night the power went out about 9:00...and it did not come back on until 1:24 yesterday afternoon.  The reason I know the exact time was because I was sitting the clocks on the stove, coffee maker, etc.

We'd gotten a good bit of ice from late Friday night and into Saturday morning.  Then Saturday night the rain, ice and snow returned with a vengeance bringing down tree limbs and trees themselves.  The point where I lost power was close to the corner of my yard where it interdicted my neighbors yard...a tree in his yard came down taking out the electric wire(s).

The long and short of me talking about this is that I hate ice storms.  I can deal with snow.  I can deal with cold.  But ice is just plain destructive.  However, I am also thankful for the goodness of neighbors who had power and invited me into their home for warmth, coffee and breakfast.  And for other neighbors who also had power and baked cookies and distributed them to those of us without power.

I came away from this event with a tremendous sense of community.  In these very troubling times, these goodnesses are beacons of hope.

It was a Friday afternoon and evening at the wee cottage in the woods...

The weather was blustery and cold outside...

Meanwhile inside it was warm and cozy...with a fire burning in the fireplace...

It seemed to me, then, the be a perfect afternoon and evening to be cooking & baking...so I made a batch of chicken noodle soup as well as baked "Symphony Brownies"....

And along the way I had a cocktail or two or three or....(you get the picture)

All in all, it was a most perfect winter Friday night at home...for which I am most thankful.  Wish you could have been here.  ;-)