* Specifically meant for those socially- and hormonally-challenged tween- and teenagers who require just a leeeee-tle redirection during such challenging times …
With every positive action, there is a positive consequence. With every negative action, there is a negative consequence. .
It’s absolutely essential to treat other people with respect to achieve those positive consequences. .
If you’ve done something to upset or anger another person, it’s a sure sign you’ve been disrespectful. And that’s a negative consequence. .
If you don’t know exactly what you’ve done wrong, it never hurts to ask that person so you can understand what you did wrong. .
When asking “Why?” (as in “Why am I in trouble?”) in order to understand a potentially confusing situation, do not make it sound like a complaint. Instead approach it as a way to recognize that you’ve upset the other person. For example, “Help me understand why I hurt you?” .
Once you recognize what you’ve done to offend the other person, apologize. .
When apologizing, be very specific about what you’re apologizing about. And be honest. And mean it. .
After apologizing, make a promise to that person that you will not do whatever offending act you’ve done in the future. And never ever break that promise. .
Also after the apology, be on your absolute best behavior. Don’t complain when someone asks you do to something. Don’t sulk or pout. The more you show you’re making the effort to be good, the more respect you’ll gain … The more positive consequences will occur. .
Respecting other people will gain their trust and earn their respect in return. .
The more respect and trust you give and receive, the more privileges in life you’ll be granted. .
And finally … .
Ultimately, earning the respect and trust from others will earn you life-long friendships; friends that would bend over backwards to help you out when you need them most.
Yep. It’s been awhile, but I’ve decided to PWP (password protect) the following post. For those that might be vaguely interested in reading it, please comment below and I’ll respond to you via email.
I think it’s rather strange how, after writing my last post, Chicago has been raining off and on. This weekend is pretty much going to be the same of scattered showers. I’m thinking that perhaps Mother Naure took my little quote at the end of that post a little too literally.
The following post was meant as a continuation of my last one; following up on further emotions I’ve been experiencing lately. All because of PS’ story. And all because of the unconditional love my cat, Rain, has given me throughout the years …
So without further ado, I give you Part Deuce.
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~
Rain gets along with everyone and everything ...
I think about the eventual loss of Rain, sometimes in conjuction with my inability to have kids of my own.
Oh, I know that I place a lot of importance in my pets because they are, in essence, the children I will never(?) have. Even for those families with *actual* children and pets can understand how much these animals become part of your life. They are a source of unconditional love and happiness.
There are moments that I swear that my pets understand me; know me intuitively. It’s as if they have a direct line to my emotions. When I’m happy, they’re out and about trying to play with me. When I’m angry, they know to stay clear from my path. (Except my puppy-girl, Kozzy. Sometimes she’s a little … slow, but we love her to bits!)
And then there are the sad moments; particularly the moments that I’ve been in tears. Those are the moments where my pets seem to come out of the woodworks and surround me. Not all at once; as a mob of 2 cats and a dog would be quite a scene. No, they seem to come around, one by one, as if to make sure I’m never quite … alone.
Yami, obviously NOT ...
The past few years, my pets have shown exactly how much they love me. Especially after all the events that had happened to throw my life off kilter. You know … the life that I thought I might have? The one in which I dreamed of the family that I would have had by now. The one in which there are still days or moments or news of pregnancies that I still, to this day, mourn the loss over.
Yes, these pets … my Rain, Kozzy and Yami … are, next to Hubby, another reason why every day I try to put one foot in front of the other. And it’s because, just like Hubby, they’ve seen the worst in me and they still love me unconditionally.
Kozzy still puts her nose right up to my face when I lay paralyzed on the couch. Rain still jumps onto the bed on those days when I can’t seem to get out of bed and plops herself to the side of me, pressing her entire body up against me. Yami still jumps onto my lap and then settles in my arms whenever I sit on the couch staring off into space, burying her entire head up into the crook of my elbow. And they do that independently of any specific events and on their very own accord … all to, in my opinion, make certain that I’m alright. And that I’m not alone.
I know that my pets shower me with love and affection because they know that Hubby & I are there for them unconditionally. Oh, believe me … they piss us both off sometimes to the point where I literally wish I could send the dog to the imaginary dog house, or the cats into a corner where they’d know not to come out until it was safe. But I also think that with the love and affection we provide them, they just want to reciprocate the feelings in the best way that they can.
Kozzy doesn't mind the company ...
PS’s story (in the previous post) and the fact that Hubby & I are caring for a pet that is on the downward slope of her life, had stirred up some emotions over the past couple of weeks. And it’s those thoughts of exactly who is going to care for us when we’re older. And who will be providing us with assistance to get around.
I see it with my parents, as I’m now about 5 hours by car from them. I worry about how they are able to get to and from Doctor’s appointments and if they’re actually following up on their health. I worry about my Mom taking a tumble and injuring herself. I worry about my Dad with his heart and his weight and his kidneys. I worry that I’m not going to be able to be there at the moment they need me the most. *
Oh, I know realistically that it’s not always guaranteed that having kids will automatically mean that Hubby and I have someone that will take care of us in our older age as no one can predict the future. If Hubby & I did have kids, who’s to say that (God forbid) our child doesn’t pass away before us? Or that our imaginary child decides that he/she wants nothing to do with us? Or that we’d have a child that requires us to physically care for him/her 24/7?
I know it’s not worth it to place all my eggs in one basket, and to worry about things that I have no control over. But I do. Worry, that is. Not only because, quite frankly … at my age their are no real good quality eggs to place in any basket. But also because one of my biggest fears is that I’ll have outlived** everyone in my life, Hubby included … and be all alone when I die. That there will be no one — well at least no one who loved me unconditionally — by my side.
So it’s with this thought that I know (irregardless of whether we eventually have kids … I can still dream, after all) that I will always have some sort of pet in my life***. One who I will love unconditionally and who will love me unconditionally in return.
I guess this means that Hubby & I will need to find a “Retirement Home” that will be willing to let us keep our pets!
And there are days where Yami doesn't either ...
* It’s one of the biggest downsides of moving out of state, but my parents know that this was a move that I needed to do both physically and emotionally. And for that, I am grateful.
** Fat chance of this happening, as I can barely take care of my own health …
*** Except I might just take a little break from acquiring any other animals until I can get past the eventual hole that will be left in my heart when Rain finally goes away.
There’s this story about a dog and a cat that has resonated within me since hearing it for the first time. It’s a story told to us by an employee (possibly owner?) of the neighborhood pet store we discovered this past summer.
Her story followed after ours; the one in which we found out that our 19 year old cat, Rain, was deaf. Yes, that’s right. Our senior citizen cat is deaf. But more on that pet story after this one.
The pet shop employee’s (I’ll call her PS for short) story began with her own experiences with a deaf pet. She had told us about her cat and dog who always displayed such a unique relationship their entire lives. Ever since they were both kitten and puppy, they had played together and snuggled together; stuck by each others’ sides.
PS had known, once they were both much older, that her dog had become deaf. And she knew this because he would never respond to her calls out to his name. And he would only obey her with non-verbal signs, rather than PS’s spoken commands. But despite this, he would always know whenever it was feeding time; always was right there the minute his bowl was set down for dinner.
There was a reason, PS speculated, that this dog knew it was dinner time. And this wasn’t because of his sense of smell. Rather it was because whenever the can opener would go off, PS noticed that her cat would suddenly start meowing loudly and (if she wasn’t already snuggling next to him) would rush over to where her dog was at, as if to wake him up. PS had witnessed, at various times, her cat nudge her best friend to get his attention … and then would watch as the two of them would enter the kitchen side-by-side, almost as if they were attached at the hip.
"Comical" Rain
It wasn’t until weeks after her finally dog passed away that PS realized something was also wrong with her cat. She had thought, at first, that her cat stopped eating because she was so emotionally distraught about the loss of her best friend. But whenever PS put cat treats directly in front of her, she would gobble them up and immediately ask for more, as if she was starved. If picked up and placed directly in front of her food, this cat would also gobble up her food as if there was no tomorrow. But the thing is, PS ever picked up her up and set her down elsewhere in the house (whether it be the kitchen or any other room), this cat would immediately start meowing and wandering around in circles.
And that’s when PS realized that her cat was actually blind. It was also when she realized that all the years of her cat nudging her dog during dinner time was not onlyso that her deaf dog would know when supper was … it was also her dog’s way of leading her blind cat into the kitchen.
Rain, cuddling inside my jumper in the early '90's
It took weeks of training, PS told us, but eventually the cat was retrained on how to get to and from her food bowl by memory whenever dinner time rolled around. Sadly though, this poor cat died within a year of her best friend.
I remember this story every time I snuggle with my cat, Rain. And I know that it’s only because I will be completely devastated when Rain finally passes away.
I don’t purposely mean to become so melancholy while remembering PS’s story. In reality, my Rain will be 20 years old next year, and despite her being deaf … she’s had quite an amazing life. One that includes finding her at approximately 6-wks old underneath Dr. Bro’s car in the midst of a late spring thunderstorm. There’s been moments of catching her at 1-yr old snuggling next to our family beagle, Muffin … who was always so gentle and kind enough to let her smack her around a bit. I remember the periods of adjustments she’s had to make when getting used to other “roommates” … whether it was Hubby moving in with us, or the variety of other pets we’ve collected since being married. And I remember one particularly difficult period of time, which included surgery to repair a broken leg. (All of which occured simutaneously during my one IVF cycle, btw …)
Sadly, we discovered Rain’s loss of hearing earlier this year. And it’s only because I had made the comment to Hubby one day that poor Rain developed the habit of yeowling* late at night whenever we had already gone to bed. I would complain about how loud it was and how I would have rather dealt with her late-night sudden bursts of energy** instead.
When Hubby mentioned this to a co-worker of his, she mentioned that her cat did the same thing before she found out from her vet that her cat was deaf. The vet had told her that cats do this when they start losing their hearing because cats apparently don’t like it when things are completely silent. So they start to meow loudly, hoping that they could hear something. Anything.
Rain with the family dog, Muffin
At first I refused to believe that her loud yeowling meant that Rain was going deaf. So I began to test her. Call her name while she was busy eating. Snap my fingers at her while she was asleep. Clap my hands loudly while she walked the opposite direction. All to try to get her attention. And all in vain. Because she had, indeed, lost her hearing.
While she no longer was afraid of big ole Kozzy bounding up to her (she couldn’t HEAR how loudly our dog would come prancing towards her), she began to startle a little more easily. And while she no longer does her late night excercising by running all around the apartment, she has begun to sleep more and more frequently.
And I know it’s all about Rain getting older. And that this is the natural “circle of life.” But it doesn’t stop me from feeling sad about what’s eventually going to come. That perhaps, I will be like PS’s cat in the story above … so reliant on all the comfort and happiness that Rain has given me all these years, that I’d feel lost without her.
Rain, Rain … Don’t go away
Stay with me another day
* Yeowling = Howling and Meowing simutaneously
** I swear, there are nights where I thought that the cats had more than a “nip” of that Catnip …
Her story followed after ours; the one in which we found out that our 19 year old cat, Rain, was deaf. Yes, that’s right. Our 
