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We took Kali to the vet yesterday, after a week in which she had about 4 “peeing outside of the box” incidents. She wasn’t her usual sassy self, and we noticed that she had lost some weight, but we had no idea how scary things were going to get at the vet’s office.

Her abdomen was extremely firm on examination, and the vet noticed that she looked anemic. X-rays showed that the firm abdomen was caused by a pretty extreme case of constipation (which Kali has had off and on for years), and once that was dealt with everything looked pretty clear. But the cause of the anemia was still a mystery. She wasn’t running a fever, but her heart and spleen were slightly enlarged. And the weight loss was troublesome. The vet ran a full range of blood and urine tests, and we brought Kali home for the night with some medications. And we waited.

The news we got this morning was better than I think either of us was expecting. Her blood work came back with no signs of thyroid trouble, kidney problems or leukemia. Her urine was a little dilute but otherwise normal. The vet told us to up her dosage of the Prednisolone we started her on yesterday, and continue with the course of antibiotics and the Laxulone she was prescribed. She’ll go back for a recheck next week and we’ll see where we stand.

Those of you who remember Kali’s litter-mate/brother Dub may also recall that he suffered from Immune-Mediated Hemolytic Anemia for most of his life – anemia which came on when he was just 11 months old, with no apparent trigger. It took a while but we got it under control, and as far as we know it wasn’t a contributing factor to his early death. So I’m hopeful, I guess, that if we can just get Kali’s blood count back up and get her eating, her prognosis is good. But what scares me is that we are in such a bad position financially. I can’t tell you how devastated we will be if we have to make a hard decision because we can’t afford more intensive or aggressive treatment, or if she takes a turn for the worse. She’s eight years old – middle-aged. She should – and hopefully does – have a lot of life left in her, but I’ve learned that things don’t always go as you expect or hope they will. We’ll just do the best we can.

As someone who was a teenage girl once, and who has watched John Hughes’ films over and over again, this really struck a chord.

RIP, John, and thank you for writing for us.

I should really update here more.  Life is moving at breakneck speed, and it would be nice to take some time, slow down, and record it all for posterity.

For now, though, I give you kitten belly.

It’s pretty astounding to think that one year ago today, we closed the door to our apartment in Bushwick for the last time, and moved ourselves, two cats, and all our worldly possessions into a lovely little carriage house in Providence. At times it feels like just yesterday; other times it feels like we’ve been here for ages.

What amazes me is how readily we were welcomed here. Things haven’t been perfect – one reason for our move was to improve our financial situation, which hasn’t happened, but I think that’s the case for most people these days. Money aside, everything else seems to be falling into place nicely. We’re healthier and happier. We’re continuing to build relationships here, and we’re getting to explore further some of the things that we really love. We may still have boxes that we have yet to unpack, but I think we feel very settled where we are, very content and happy with what this change has done for us.

It is still hard to be away from our families, especially when new babies are born that we have yet to meet, or when, as now, health issues strike our closest family members. And it’s at times like those that we entertain the idea of moving on. Likewise, with some time and distance between us, we are remembering more and more the things we loved about New York – the good friends who remain there, the easy access to almost anything you could possibly dream of – and we ask ourselves, would we move back? We get a little nostalgic for our beautiful old apartment, the wide-slat hardwood floors, high ceilings and big windows, the backyard cat colony, and our most amazing neighbors, but the answer, at least for now, remains no, we would not.

It didn’t take long for us to fall in love with our adopted city, its people and all it has to offer, so I think it’s safe to say we’ll be sticking around for a while. I’m looking forward to what year two will bring, and what we’ll give back.

There’s a lot going on. Decisions to be made, plans, strategies to be worked out. It’s a stressful time for many reasons, and while I should be over here writing it all out, I just haven’t been able to make myself do it. I’m doing that thing I do where I realize at various points during my day that I have been literally holding my breath, I gasp and flutter and try to snap out of it, but it’s getting harder to do that. I keep holding my breath… for what? I still don’t know.

This little guy gave us the scare of our lives today.

He was so manic starting at 4 a.m. that we put him in his carrier for a few hours until we were ready to wake up. We let him out and went on with our usual morning activities.

Mike went downstairs and got to work on the remaining dishes from dinner last night. I stayed upstairs on the computer. The next thing I know, I hear the rustling of cardboard, a thump, and silence. Then Mike’s voice: "oh my god, Kirby, what did you do?"

He fell. From the ledge at the top of our open staircase. Climbed over the cardboard we had put up as a barrier to prevent just this thing from happening, and dropped, probably 8-10 feet, landing on one of the lower wooden stairs. On his back. The little guy got up and ran like hell, hiding out inside our kitchen table, tail all poofed out, while Mike and I basically freaked out. (Well, I freaked out *way* more than Mike).

I coaxed him out of the table and he ran upstairs, so we followed him, wanting to make sure he was okay. We checked him out thoroughly and didn’t feel anything wrong – all his bones seemed intact, his belly was still tender, and after we all calmed down a bit, he proceeded to eat, drink, frolic and play just like he usually does. He’s not hiding or showing any signs of discomfort or distress, he’s letting us poke at him, pick him up and touch him like normal, and he has been alert and responsive to all of it.

It was around 60 again today and all of our windows and skylights were open, so he was probably extra hyper because of that, but he really seems fine. He didn’t go down for a nap until probably 5 p.m. We’ve been keeping a close eye on him and haven’t seen any reason so far to try to find an emergency vet who is open on Sundays here (our regular vet is not) – hopefully we won’t have to, and he’s just one very, VERY lucky little cat.

I don’t have anything profound to say today, but I do have to say that I just can’t get over how huge this all feels. History is happening, and I am so very proud of my country right now.

I have carried this stone with me for ten years now. I have always clung to hope. Today, I am filled with more hope for myself, my loved ones, and this country, than ever before. This is the first day of what I suspect will be a very special year.

I could not have imagined just how our year would play out when we began 2008. At this time last year, our plans to say goodbye to New York City were already in motion, but we never dreamed our dear Dub wouldn’t be making the trip with us, making an already bittersweet goodbye that much harder.

But Providence has been such a welcoming home, and as I sit here today, surrounded by three kitties sleeping peacefully, Mike singing as he works on our dinner downstairs, I am struck by the calm and peace I feel. For the first time in years, I feel truly content, more centered and settled. I can look back and feel proud of how I have gotten through the stressful changes, devastating loss and general craziness that we lived through last year.

We are starting this year healthier in every way than we were last year. Mike celebrated a milestone birthday and I am now firmly in my late 30s, and we’re both pretty okay with those numbers. We’ve lost weight. Health problems we had developed related to the environmental and other stresses of living in New York have mostly disappeared. My days are long and busy, and they start far earlier than they used to, but we’ve gotten into a comfortable routine. We spend more time outdoors. We breathe clean air. We walk around our neighborhood. We smile and talk to strangers as well as to friends. And while we still miss and mourn Dub, we feel so lucky to have welcomed Kirby into our family.

I feel like things are finally falling into place, for me personally and for us as a couple. We’ve grown a lot this past year, and what we’ve taken away from all we’ve gone through has made our relationship even stronger. And having the confidence that comes from sharing my life with a true partner has finally allowed me to make some plans for the future. I think I finally know what I want out of my life, what I want to do with it and what I don’t. It feels good, and I can say I feel more hopeful than ever about what could be.

Welcome, 2009. I think you’re going to be a good one.

We’ve always had a tree for Christmas. From big, lush beauties to a Charlie Brown tree to a cheap fake model from the local drugstore, Mike and I have not spent a Christmas together where there hasn’t been something in our home hung with ornaments.

We talked a lot about what to do for a tree this year. We’re downsizing the holidays in many ways, as many of you are, I’m sure, so there was that to consider. There was also the fact that we have a Very Precocious Kitten living with us who loves to climb anything and everything. Our ornaments are all kitty-proof and hang from ribbon ties, so there’s no real concern about breakage or injury, but we still weren’t sure it would be a good idea to get a tree of any sort this year. We talked a bit about getting a small, live, potted tree, but the cost was a bit prohibitive, not to mention the fact that as renters, we don’t really have a place to plant it post-holiday.

Saturday’s huge snowfall was so beautiful I couldn’t bear to stay inside, so after our marketing, we rested up for a bit, fortified ourself with leftover soup for lunch, then headed out for a quick spin around our street with our cameras. At the corner, I spotted a huge tangle of downed tree limbs and branches poking up through a blanket of snow. I tugged at a branch that caught my eye, and it came loose from the pile. It was perfect.

We thought at first of standing it in something, but we couldn’t come up with a good place to put it where Kirby wouldn’t chew on it or knock it over. As I looked around the living room, inspiration struck.

It makes me smile every time I look at it, and it didn’t cost a dime. What an unexpected but delightful way to get a much-needed dose of holiday cheer.