Kiltie Update Umpteen

Further to this, euthanasia will not be necessary even if the good people at Lake Cowichan Animal Rescue (LCAR), Lori and others working to help are unable to find Kiltie a home by June 24th.

Lori, who is a board member, tells me that the LCAR has a no-euthanasia policy. Unless the cat's health warrants it, euthanasia is never considered. Therefore, Kiltie should have as long a life as her little body allows.

Within an hour of arriving home last evening, Kiltie had eaten, re-christened her litter box, checked out her favourite haunts, had some serious cuddles with her original human, and consumed at least one ounce of water. Given Kiltie's size that amount of water is fantastic - the average human, at 150 lbs, is 50 times her weight. Imagine drinking 50 ounces of water in one sitting!

Kiltie had a good night, although she kept trying to get closer to her human. Said human, meanwhile, kept trying to find positions less painful (don't know why I bother) thus disturbing traumatized Kiltie unfortunately.

Kiltie tried to get me up at 3am. No dice. I was too much in pain and too damn COLD, this 14th day of JUNE, 2011 - seven days from the summer solstice.

(When the heck are we going to get SPRING?)

Kiltie - Find the Cat

Anyway, I think Kiltie may be on the mend. She had another decent visit to her water bowl this morning (and since) and ate a full breakfast - I cut down the amount somewhat for fear of her overdoing it. Now Kiltie is in her favourite spot for undisturbed sleep.

My Heart Breaks: Kiltie returns, temporarily

Received this email from Lori regarding Kiltie:

Hi Ocean,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know you are preparing to move, and I send my best wishes your way.

I am sorry to have to tell you this, as I never like to cause worry and stress, but Kiltie has had to go back to the vet twice in the past week. She stopped eating and had a fever. Her saliva pocket also filled up. She is terrified of the dogs, even though they leave her alone and do not bother her at all. All of the dogs keep their distance from the cats. But dear, sweet little Kiltie is just not coming around to being comfortable. She does come out of hiding at night, as when I get up she will come to me then. The other senior cat who came at the same time has adjusted well, as she lived with a big dog before coming to us.

The vet gave Kiltie antibiotics to bring her fever down and fluids, as she was dehydrated from not eating/drinking. Things were better for a few days but now she has started to decline again. I love your little girl but it is clear she is not thriving in our home and I fear she will die if she continues to refuse to eat/drink. Also, the vet bills were $400 and this is not something that I can continue to do if she continues to refuse to eat due to stress.

I am a board member at Lake Cowichan Animal Rescue. My opinion is that for Kiltie's sake, the society take on her care and she goes up for adoption in PetSmart, with specific instructions that she is not to go to any home with dogs. This is my suggestion, so that she can enjoy the rest of her life in peace. Do you have another idea? If so, I welcome your suggestions....

Take care,
Lori

Have written extensively about Kiltie and the problems of finding properties in this province whose owners allow renters to keep their animal companions.

The residence for low-income seniors I am going to won't allow me to keep Kiltie. Such is the same for ALL low-income seniors homes in this community and throughout most of BC, including facilities subsidized, even run by, BC Housing.

The same is not true for residences run for well-off seniors, but then of course that's always a different story, isn't it? After all, the well-to-do are clean, whether they've animal companions or not, while the majority of poor people are dirty, slovenly, and live in filth, right?

WRONG.*

In any event, it seems best to me that Kiltie come back home for the remaining days before I must move, which is the 25th of this month. Lori, Lake Cowichan Rescue and Prevost Vet Clinic will try in the meantime to find Kiltie a suitable, quiet, loving home, one without dogs. If they are unsuccessful, I will have Kiltie euthanized June 24th.

That's the only decision I am left with, isn't it? Because I'm poor.

* This low-income, disabled woman who lives with an animal companion happens to maintain the cleanest unit in the building.

Phantom Kiltie

The phantom limb is a common phenomenon experienced by amputees. Despite a limb or organ having been removed, an amputee's brain will maintain its mapping to that body part and keep sending signals, seemingly from that limb or organ, until the brain learns to unmap it.

I have a phantom Kiltie.

Before Kiltie left, whenever I would lie down to rest or sleep, Kiltie would jump onto the bed, then begin kneading my belly in preparation for her own lay-down. After properly preparing her bed, she'd stretch out along my torso. Back paws would point toward my nether regions; front paws would tuck under her chin and mine.

We'd lay virtually nose to nose. I'd feel Kiltie's breath tickling my face and she would twitch as my breath tickled her whiskers.

Soon, I'd start my seemingly endless shifting, trying to find a position that wasn't painful. Kiltie would eventually move and settle in with her back pressed snugly against my thigh.

We'd always be touching, until morning came or my rest was over.

Now as I doze off, I feel Phantom Kiltie's wee paws kneading my belly. At other times, it's her warm, soothing back against my thigh. When I sit here at the computer, out of the corner of my eye I sometimes see Kiltie peeking at me from behind the drapes, as she sits on the windowsill. Or while I walk across the main room, I'll spot her with her Sparkly in her mouth.

I don't know how long Phantom Kiltie will remain with me. I hope it's awhile.

Kiltie Update

Kiltie has gone. She went to her new home with Lori at 4pm last Friday, May 27th; and she is adjusting well.

When I visited Lori at her office Monday morning to deliver Kiltie's drinking bowl, which I'd forgotten, she told me that whenever she enters "Kiltie's room," my wee girl begins to purr and doesn't stop throughout Lori's visit. She winds and rubs herself through and about Lori's legs and has clearly made Lori her new human. The adoption has therefore gone in both directions, as I'd so fervently hoped.

Lori is very slowly, very gently, introducing Kiltie to the other residents of her new home - one other human and, presently, three male cats and four dogs. The first introduction was to Fable, a 17-year-old cat who has an ultra-calm demeanour.

As expected, Kiltie had a prolonged hissy fit. She just kept hissing and hissing at poor Fable. He observed and heard her; and remained unfazed.

When Lori peeked in some time later, she saw the two cats touching noses.

Aaaawwwwww....

My heart wilts and I am ecstatic.

Kiltie sorely missed Brodie when he went away six or so months ago. Now she has another furry male companion to ignore, boss around or cuddle up to.

I may be able to visit Kiltie sometime next week. If not then, there'll be other occasions.

Two Forever Homes

One forever home belongs to Kiltie; the other to her human.

Two bits of good news...

Last Tuesday afternoon, I'd made a heartbreaking appointment with the vet to arrange euthanizing my beautiful, loveable, 11-year-old companion, Kiltie.

Kiltie had saved my life too many times to count. Just by being there and needing my care, she had prevented my following through on my suicidal thoughts. I owe Kiltie and it breaks my heart to have to live without her or not to be with her to the end of her days.

How will I adjust? I'll no longer have to step carefully, always with the knowledge that a little furry critter might be underfoot. I'll never again go through the loving motions of caring for Kiltie when she is sick or feeding her twice a day. I'll never again have her soft, warm body on my lap as I type at the computer - she's here now.

No low-income seniors housing in this community, or virtually all communities throughout BC, will allow pets. Despite that, given my housing situation here, I had to make the decision I'd put off for so long. Kiltie and I must part, although not by my choice, and we must both be found forever homes.

Friends and I set about trying to find Kiltie a new home. That was top priority before anything else could be done.

There were no bites. I called the no-kill SPCA. They were over-capacity and had 16 cats on the waiting list. I contacted Cowichan Cat Rescue. But their mandate is to save feral cats; Kiltie isn't a feral cat - yet. Finally, I contacted a woman, Lori, who'd been referred to me by another cat rescue group (can't remember which one now). Lori and her husband specifically care, with emphasis on the 'care', for senior cats; they tend to and love them to the end of their natural lives. I'd contacted Lori before, about Brodie. At that time they also were over-capacity.

Lori emailed me last Tuesday evening - from Utah where they are vacationing - to say they would take Kiltie. They arrive back home late this month and will take Kiltie on or before June 1st. I am hoping to visit Lori's place once or twice, with Kiltie, before leaving my companion there permanently.

Second good news... As I was composing my weekly email check-in with the local low-income seniors housing project to which I am hoping to move, I received an email from the manager there. She asked that I contact her ASAP to make an appointment in order to proceed with the second phase of the application process: provision of proof-of-income and completion of the application form. She wrote: "I may have some good news for you!!!"

Am leaving shortly. So very excited! And very sad.

ETA: Accepted! Move-in date July 1st. And it's a one-bedroom! No more living in a single room. First thing I did once I got home was write up my Notice to Vacate. Done. Delivered. Ahhhh.

Seniors Housing and Kiltie

Am in the process of applying for local low-income seniors housing and prospects are good that accommodation will be available sooner rather than later. It means that Kiltie and I must part, which breaks my heart; but the situation in this building has so deteriorated that it's no longer just about my needs but hers.

Over the past two years, as old tenants have vacated the premises, new tenants of a rougher sort have moved in. We've had so many police cruisers arriving so many times at all exits of this building over the past 18 months or so that I've lost count. Ambulances too, to deal with overdosed addicts.

There've been numerous violent incidents and I'm fairly certain, due to the high traffic at certain times of the day, that drug dealing is occurring next door. Constantly, doors are opening and slamming shut and loud voices in the hallways. There's total disregard for other tenants.

The couple managing this building seem not to care. In fact, conversations with them suggest they envision this residence - which has several longterm tenants who are seniors, most with health issues - becoming something like their own drug rehab centre. Which in one respect is fine, but their judgement in terms of who qualifies as a reliable, quiet, recovering addict vs. one who is not and/or someone who still deals drugs is severely in question.

The couple also seem to have a division of labour policy. He manages the grounds - and is doing a decent job and appears to enjoy it. She is responsible for the interior.

This building of 31 units is filthy.

To compare... I live in a bachelor apartment. I vacuum once a week. I dust everyday, clean up spills as they occur, and wipe down the floors at least once a week. I live alone and am 60 years old. I have osteoporosis, and chronic back pain, which is worsening.

The resident manager and his wife are middle-aged and able-bodied. This building gets vacuumed once a month, if we're lucky. I can't remember the last time the sticky, dirt-encrusted stairwells were washed. I am loathe to touch the handrails, but to maintain my balance, I must.

I love my bright, open, little bachelor apartment. I hate this building. That wasn't always the case, back when it used to have an excellent reputation.

The noise in this place has not only affected me, it has affected Kiltie. We've both been used to peace and quiet. Now all is in upheaval. The poor little thing no sooner falls asleep than unfamiliar, loud noises wake her up. We're both anxious and not doing well.

Because no low-income seniors housing anywhere in this community allows pets, there's no choice but for us to part.

This has been coming a long time and I've put it off because it was always about me, my health, my stupid back which keeps getting worse, my guilt.

With the help of friends, I am told Kiltie will find a new forever home, one perhaps close and compassionate enough to allow me to visit Kiltie. That's the hope anyway.

My friends have helped push me to this necessary decision, but it's hard. Now it's only a matter of how long it will take to find Kiltie her new forever home and another one for her human.

It's Like Having Children

Having a cat is like having children a lot of the time. Each day Kiltie jumps up to the third shelf of the bookcase where I keep the tiny bag that contains her toys. After extracting her head from the bag, which hugs her head neatly like a top hat, she comes out with this or that goodie in her mouth. (Click images to view larger version.)

Kiltie's Toy Bag - discarded rubber ball left inside

Every night, I pick up the toys, put them back into the bag and place it on the bookcase. Over the course of the next day, most if not all of the toys have been strewn around the place again.

Feather-tailed mouse left, 'sparkly' to right

Unlike children, cats cannot be trained, at least easily, to pick up their toys at the end of the day. This is particularly given that 'the end of the day' is the start of a cat's day.

Mouse head

Today, I found one disembodied or beheaded mouse, together with all but one of Kiltie's toys.

Mouse body

Kiltie's favourite toy of all time is one of the first items each day to come out of the toy bag. It's a fuzzy sparkly ball that has a bounce no other ball seems able to duplicate. It's the only ball with which Kiltie will play fetch with her human; in fact, she insists on the game throughout the day.

Kiltie's favourite toy, her sparkle ball

Woe are the times when Kiltie loses her sparkle ball. For three years that was the case, until the landlord came in one day to check for air in the heating pipes and reflexively fished out Kiltie's toy from where it had become wedged.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting...

Waiting is the biggest stressor* for me.

It hasn't helped that what I'm waiting for has meant my being unable to buy desperately needed things.

My remaining pants and jeans are falling off me, literally. As I walk to and from the grocery store, I'm having to keep hitching them up. When I go out, I look poor and that embarrasses me.

Recently, my fallen-apart comforter and last top sheet, plus the t-shirts I'd been wearing for nightwear had become so threadbare they were good for nothing but the dumpster. What bedding remains is a single fitted sheet to cover the mattress. I've been spending my nights trying to sleep with a single, light throw over me. It's no bigger than a bath towel.

The nights are getting colder; the heat hasn't been turned on yet. I'm so cold.

Then there's the reading glasses and the LCD/LED monitor that's needed to replace this ancient CRT one. The brightness levels of my monitor have so decayed that a person with good eyesight said everything looks blurry. Using this monitor has worsened my eyesight.

Why don't I get the things I need? What's the wait about?

I'm waiting for approval of my application to the BC government's Shelter Aid for Elderly Renters (SAFER), a rental subsidy program for low-income seniors.

The SAFER office received my application on July 19th.

In anticipation over the last two years of applying for SAFER when I turned 60, I'd calculated and apportioned my savings to last until I would begin receiving the subsidy. This meant living on no more than $700 per month.

In my calculations, I assumed the processing of SAFER applications would take up to six weeks. Nothing on the BC Housing website suggested otherwise.

Six weeks didn't seem like such a bad assumption. There was, after all, the customary advisement of "up to six weeks" that I'd been told or read whenever I'd dealt with federal or provincial government services in the past.

Silly me. I was going by experiences back in the days of yore. Back in the halcyon days prior to the BC election in 2001, before the large budget and public service cuts done by the Campbell government.

The middle of August came and went and I'd still had no word from SAFER, not even acknowledgement of receipt of my application. So I called their office using Skype and was told to expect to receive my first payment at the end of September. By that time SAFER would owe me three months' worth of payments, which would total approximately $1,000.

Panic set in, but I eventually coped. I began visiting the food bank more frequently and cutting even further on my 'discretionary' spending - to about $80 per month. By 'discretionary', I mean everything else other than rent, hydro and cable (internet only).

With three weeks having passed since I'd checked with SAFER, I called again on September 3rd. Now I was told that they were about "four weeks behind in processing" and were still working on the applications from the middle of June. Ergo, I should not expect to receive payment until "at least [the last working day of] October." I asked if 'at least' really meant 'not until the end of November'. The man restated "the end of October," without the qualifier.

So now I'm scared and I don't trust that I'll see a SAFER payment the end of October either.

All my best-laid plans - to make my savings last not just until the SAFER payments would begin, but to stretch them until I turned 65 and qualified for Old Age Security and the Guaranteed Income Supplement - look to have been for nought. With the punishingly low interest rates, (especially punishing for people dependent on their savings), my savings over the past while have been earning very little. In June, I did what I could and put most of my money into two non-redeemable term deposits. The rest, $2,700, went into a redeemable (after 90 days) term deposit; starting the 15th of this month, it's to be divvied out in 10 monthly payments of $270.

You do the math:

* CPP payment: $295.55
* Savings: $270.00
* Total monthly: $565.55

Rent just went up: $501. Shaw internet service just went up: $52.64.

Forget about hydro, food, monitors, reading glasses, warm bedding, sleep wear, pants that fit.

No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to make things work, it never seems to be enough.

When you live so close to the edge, there's no room to accommodate government 'service delays'.

Thank you, Gordon Campbell, for approving all those cutbacks to BC's public service.

*On Saturday I bought more St. John's Wort. It's an expense I can ill afford; but I also cannot afford the toll this stress is taking on my body and my mind. I've been too ready to erupt lately. Kiltie and Brodie are affected by the tension. Time to do something about it.

Sometimes Good Things Happen - UPDATE

Well, Stacey just arrived, accompanied by his two sweet daughters. As promised, he'd picked up a 40-lb bag of wood pellets in Nanaimo for me and delivered it straight to my door.

All with a smile.

Thanks to Stacey - a complete stranger, remember -, Kiltie and Brodie are set up with enough litter for their commode for another 12 months; and with a bonus!

Stacey managed to find pine pellets, the kind I wanted most. The local store was out of the pine when I went to purchase pellets last year and the bag of mixed pellets I bought instead hasn't been as good.

The pine holds its freshness and scent longer, as opposed to the alternative, which is a mix of fir, spruce and pine. 

This household is in for a nice fresh pine scent for many, many months to come. Kiltie, Brodie and their human are very pleased with this situation.

Stacey is setting a fine example for his daughters, who are a couple of very lucky little girls.

Controlling Rage While Destitute

The following is a modification of an email I wrote to a friend this morning. I am writing it to this blog since readers may be wondering why, in addition to Daphne who has had her own problems, I have gone silent...

A loner, asocial and an introvert, rarely have I told others what I'm trying to deal with. The deeper the issues go and the more troubling to me, the less likely I am to do so. The most recent exception was Kiltie. But, well, Kiltie is Kiltie. She's not me....

I've a rage that has been with me for as long as I can remember. It built up over the first 14 years of my life and never went away. I've managed it by subsuming it under a calm veneer and, sometimes, with happy moments. Most of my life that layer of calm has been thick enough to prevent the rage from breaking through and affecting my day-to-day reality.

My young husband saw the rage often during the early years of our marriage, and he helped me control it. When the rage came on, he'd hold me tight to him, even as I was hitting him with my fists or trying to knife myself in the belly where the rage roiled; and screaming 'til my voice went raw. I'd be in a blind, red rage, completely beyond my control to stop. He'd just hold me tight to him, rubbing my back, speaking softly, soothingly. I'd quieten, feel comforted and be ever so grateful for his care. Holding me tight, giving comfort that I'd deny myself, was the best treatment he could give. How that young man, barely turned 21, could have had such wisdom, I don't know.

When the children came, I became concerned about how my rages would affect them. My own childhood had been filled with screaming - not a day passed without it - and I didn't want that environment for my own offspring. So I learned to subsume my emotions and with them the rage, below a veneer of calm acceptance, as I was required to do as a child.

I fooled even the best of them. A longtime close friend, a woman who'd seen through so many people, told me she'd sought my friendship because of my calm demeanour. My response was to laugh out loud, a rare occurrence. What people perceive as placidity is iron control. I invest a lot of energy maintaining the illusion.

Over the past several months, my layer of calm has thinned and I've been very concerned about it. If I had children still at home, I'd seek counselling immediately and request medication.

I know I'm capable of cruelty. That's what's scaring me and I've been trying to deal with it. I love my babies, the cats, and I'd never want to hurt them. However, the rage has come too close and too often lately. Each time I have to quell it, I fear I may not be successful next time. This scares the hell out of me.

So...

- I've withdrawn from all contact with people, largely because withdrawal means less likelihood of triggers.
- I've been trying to cope with my straitened circumstances which, I think, are a HUGE contributing factor. Knowing this is my worst year and in six months things will have improved slightly hasn't helped. I'm struggling big-time with the constant and increased deprivation; the constant reminder of it everywhere around me; and with waiting and waiting and waiting to get subsidized housing that will allow me to stay with Kiltie and Brodie.
- I've been dealing with Kiltie. She is better, although there have been periods of vomiting still. Not like before, but it's still a concern to me. Yesterday and today, she's back to her usual self. Not knowing the cause of her on-again, off-again lethargy and vomiting has kept me unsettled. Stability is crucial to my ability to maintain calm; as it may be crucial to Kiltie's health. Perhaps her problems are due to the tension she feels in her home.
- Yesterday I spotted a sale at Shoppers Drug Mart for St. John's Wort (SJW). I bought 120 caplets for $11.49, plus tax.

About the last, three or four years ago during the time I was doing the first WISE project, I took SJW for a few months. Started with the typical dosage, three capsules per day. Turned out that was way too much for me. My car-enabled friend Ronnie, when she next came by for a trip for shopping, laughed merrily at me as I sat slumped jelly-like in her car seat and my words slurred. Given I'm highly sensitive to medications, caffeine, and so on, I should have known better than to take the regularly dose! I reduced it to two capsules and that was better, but one capsule per day was best. I wanted only to normalize to my usual control of the rage, nothing more.

Necessities: Housecleaning

One advantage to having a near-empty place is not having so much to keep clean.

I've actually got more stuff in this closet of a computer room than I do in the big room. There's the telephone table in the corner to the right of me, with (disconnected) fax machine; in front is my little computer cart, with Mac mini, monitor, speakers and printer; and behind me is a two-drawer file cabinet. Then there's this chair (one of Kiltie's scratching posts) and two plastic-fabric cat houses - acquired free from my local ReUseIt place. All this in a space less than 30 square feet.

It works though and I never feel closed in. From here I can look out through the three foot high window that runs across most of the main room. Today, the sun is shining and I can see the tree opposite starting to bud.

In the main room is a daybed, one round wooden table, a bookcase and an old wooden rocking chair. My friend Ronnie gave me the wooden table, and the bookcase and rocker were picked up for free. The last was left behind by a former tenant of this building.

The bachelor units in this building have counter-table tops that run between the kitchen and the main room. Above are hutch-style shelves which back onto cupboards on the other (kitchen) side. The counter-table top is the largest surface to keep dust-free.

It's not a big deal, therefore, to keep my furniture, such as it is, and counter surfaces clean. Most require only a damp cloth. The wooden table, bookcase, computer cart and telephone table need better treatment. Fortunately, I received a coupon for a free can of Pledge not that long ago. That will last me quite a long time.

For the bathroom, I tend to clean up as I use it. After each shower, I wipe down the shower curtain, walls, tub, etc. Then each time I clean up the cats' commode, I do a more thorough job with a proper cleanser. The sink, mirror and countertop I wipe down everyday, after my daily wash; again, I do a more thorough job when it's time to clean the tub.

My major housecleaning concern and biggest challenge is the floors. I sweep the bare floors everyday with a regular broom. The broom isn't very good and tends to repel fluff and dust rather than attract it.

There are two places where there's wall-to-wall carpeting: in this computer closet and the entryway. I've a Bissell carpet sweeper I use for the carpets. It actually works for bare floors too, but sweeping with a broom is better, even the broom I have.

Cleaning the floors isn't so easy, not with the condition of my back. I can get down on my hands and knees to clean, but moving once I'm down there and getting back up again is difficult, not to mention very painful. Crawling to clean the bathroom and kitchen floors I've done and can still do - although even that I do as little as I can get away with, because regardless of their small size there's still the problem of getting back up again.

Cleaning the floor of the big room is the greatest challenge and, frankly, something I've been unable to do for some time. Instead, all I can manage is spot clean, as and when I see that something has spilled or a certain furry critter has up-chucked a hair ball.

Back in the fall 2009, I got a free Swiffer WetJet, thanks to a reader. It came with two pads. I cheerfully used them to clean the floor of the main room. I imagine I looked as happy as that woman in the ads. It was so nice to have a clean, shining floor and the fresh scent that went with it.

I wish I could get more wetjet pads, but my budget won't allow it. In the meantime, I've been wracking my brain for alternatives.

Nothing so far. So am back to spot cleaning.

Necessities: Animal Companions

Recall the number of times you've seen people living on the streets who have animals with them.

Look at the photo section of websites like that for the tent city Dignity Village.

What do you notice, with more frequency than you might expect?

What I notice are the animal companions. For quite awhile, Dignity Village had only photos of people with pets; only later did they start adding pictures of dwellings, gardens, and so on.

For some of us, having an animal companion is as necessary to our survival as food and water. Yet few mental health professionals acknowledge the link, which is more prevalent for women, or argue on behalf of those who would be denied an animal companion for the sake of property rights, as though such purported rights should outweigh the right to survival.

The vast majority of landlords in British Columbia, including government-run BC Housing and private subsidized housing projects, would deny us that necessity. Rare is it to find in this province a dwelling that will accommodate someone who has an animal companion; as rare, is it to find government or private subsidized housing developments that allow pets.

Therefore, people who are already challenged to manage with so little money, and who also may have health challenges, are challenged further to find places to live. Such people are expected to choose between having housing they can afford, are actually DENIED housing they can afford, and staying with their animal companions who they need as much as they need air to breathe.

The rationale for denying tenants animal companions is always this: "Some people don't look after their pets properly." In landlord-speak that means: "I've a right to protect my property from damage; since pet owners are more likely to leave the place in a mess than people who don't have pets, I don't rent to them."

Hogwash. Owners are as likely to get their places trashed by non pet owners as they are by people who have pets.

You needn't take my word for it.

A couple of years ago, I heard of a property owner who rents ONLY to pet owners. Said she'd found them to be more reliable, considerate and clean, compared to tenants to whom she'd rented who hadn't pets. She'd been renting various properties to people for decades - unfortunately, all out of my budget's reach.

As for my place, a 400-square foot bachelor apartment, you'd never know there were two cats here. There's no smell, no damage to floor or carpet, no sign of them anywhere. I brush my cats daily, which helps reduce cat hair from getting everywhere. I dust and sweep the place regularly and keep the litter box spotless.

I keep the litter box in the tub, near the faucet end and pull the shower curtain almost completely across. This requires the cats to walk to the end of the tub to enter or exit. The commode sits on an upside down rubber mat with the grippers facing upward. As the cats exit their commode, the mat's grippers pick up litter bits from between their furry toes. The litter box I keep clean by removing any solid waste immediately. For litter, I use pine wood pellets, which have a nice natural scent and happen to be the least expensive and most natural litter to use. (The SPCA uses it too.) When wet, the pellets expand into sawdust.

My one guilt is sometimes I forget to remove Kiltie's scent marking, the black streaking one finds at shin level at the corners of walls. When I do remember, the streaks are gone in a single swipe. Don't know why, but only Kiltie marks her territory, never Brodie.

Both cats are well-behaved and never spray. For scratching, they've a cat condo and (sigh) this upholstered computer chair.

Necessities: Housing

I moved into this 400-square foot bachelor apartment on October 19, 2002. It suits me just fine and is quite a nice, bright bachelor apartment, as such units go. It's also in a neighbourhood and community I've become used to. So I'd choose to stay here, except for three considerations.

First, it's on the third floor of a three-floor walk-up.

Pulling my shopping cart up 36 stairs, having already pulled it up a steep hill on the way home from getting groceries, is increasingly harder to do given my hip and back problems.

I would choose and have requested to move one floor down. Moving to the second floor would be almost as good as moving to the first floor. The latter doesn't have bachelor apartments anyway and I can't afford more than I'm paying now (which is already 80% of my income). The first floor is sub-basement, so you still have to navigate stairs. To reach the front door of the building, you walk up nine stairs. The first or second floor is another nine stairs, down or up. The advantage of the first floor is the back entrance; it has only five shallow stairs going down to the sub-basement entry.

All this is moot. My landlord won't allow me to move to another unit while keeping my rent the same. I'm currently paying $486 per month; new renters are paying $575 per month for bachelor units. That's what he insists I pay if I should move. It doesn't matter that I've been an ideal tenant, never late with my payments and so quiet people have said they didn't know my unit was occupied. In fact, the clear message from my landlord is that he'd rather take his chances on a troublesome, higher-paying tenant than keep tenants known to be reliable and trouble-free.

That brings up the second concern. How secure is this place for me, in terms of continued occupancy? Might my landlord try to jack up the rent anyway? What might he do otherwise to 'persuade' me to move out?

A third consideration is the absence of a place to keep an electric bicycle or scooter, two-wheeled or four-wheeled. There's nothing outside or on the ground floor, secure or otherwise, or with plug-in access. I anticipate needing something like that in the future in order to get around.

I'd not be so anxious to find a subsidized unit in a more accessible, secure building - not with SAFER, in another few months, starting to help me with the rent here - if the extra stairs weren't causing me problems and this building offered secure, ground-floor storage and plug-in options.

I don't really want to move. Regardless, I may have no choice but to stay. Private subsidized or public housing projects in BC are rare, which is another housing issue for people with special needs. Since I'll always need an animal companion, my housing options are thus even further limited.

Two subsidized housing places that allow pets came to my notice over the past year; one, thanks to a reader. I've applied to both but have heard back from only one of them, confirming receipt of my application and advising I'm on their list. Both would be nice places to live, so that's where my hopes lie now.

Kiltie Comes Home: Pics!

From the last update to this post:

UPDATE Feb 12, 3:30pm: Kiltie is home and has already settled in. She's presently stretched out on my/our bed. I suspect she's in for a long sleep.

Brodie's reaction surprises me. This easy-going fellow, who treats other cats somewhat warily but otherwise is friendly enough with them, HISSED at Kiltie three four five times. So far. (ETA: Sigh. It's now too many times to count.) She does smell of where she's been, so perhaps that's why. His hissy fits haven't seemed to bother Kiltie.

Daphne took photos. Click on thumbnails for larger view.


UPDATE Feb 13, 5:00am: Poop! Kiltie was quite vocal when she was in the litter box, then scooted along the floor as soon as she exited. The BM was loose and substantial. I'd been expecting the opposite - hard and wee bits. Perhaps the loose stool is due to whatever had been (still is?) wrong previously in combo with upset due to her absence from home. Am hoping things solidify as the day goes on.

Brodie continues to have hissy-fits.

UPDATE Feb 14, 7:00am (and through course of night): Brodie's hissy-fits have reduced, as though he thinks a sudden cessation would be inconsistent. Between hissy-fits have been moments of love. Brodie, with ears on alert, yips his intentions while approaching Kiltie. If she'll tolerate it - as she more often does than not - he assumes Kiltie's back and tries to hump it. (Neither cat has all its equipment.)

There has been no poop since yesterday's 5:00am update. However, we haven't had our breakfast yet. If all goes according to our previous schedule, there will be a dump before noon. Fingers - and yes, paws - crossed.

By the way, Kiltie has been on my lap or at my feet almost constantly since she came home. She has always been an affectionate cat but this is somewhat more than usual. She's on my lap now, looking at me and purring loudly. It's good to feel her sweet warmth and hear her little noises again.

UPDATE Feb 15, 7:00am: Cats started playing together yesterday afternoon. No more Brodie hissy-fits. Kiltie pooped just now; looks more solid though the BM was still paler than usual. Otherwise, she seems back to her usual self.

UPDATE Feb 16, 7:00am: Kiltie vomited at 7:00am this morning. Like the incident on Feb 9th, it was rose-coloured slimey vomitus and contained what looked like only a few bits of food.

My finicky cat doesn't like the Finicky Cat food I put out this morning, so I changed it just now to Friskies Whitefish & Tuna flavour. She ate some of that. (She adores Fancy Feast Beef Feast flavour.) This food was provided by the SPCA, for which I'm grateful.

I'm used to the cats up-chucking fur balls, but not vomiting otherwise. Hope this is just an anomaly.

Reported to Sandi at SPCA. She says if this is just a random vomit, not to be concerned.

UPDATE Feb 18, 10:00am: No further vomit and Kiltie is eating and pooping normally.

Kiltie Update

Original post here, which includes the first update from 1:40 pm yesterday (see bottom of post).

At 11am this morning, I received an email from Sandi at the SPCA. She has force-fed Kiltie three times because she still refuses to eat.

So far, so good. No vomiting.

Sandi says she wants to keep Kiltie until she's had at least one good bowel movement. She also suggests that I visit Kiltie, to help relieve her stress.

A visit would also help relieve my stress.

Been scrambling to find a way to get out there. No buses go along that road or anywhere near it. I've sent an email to Daphne and one also to another person who might drive me there.

Have received cash to cover the gas expenses. It's for Kiltie.

UPDATE: Been unable to arrange a ride for today. Can't get to Kiltie. Am hoping I hear from someone so I can get to her tomorrow. The SPCA is 8.5 km away. No bus goes anywhere near it, all routes being many kilometres away so I can't even walk partway there. A taxi is way too much; got an estimate of "around" $22, one way.

Also just spoke to Sandi via the computer to tell her I wasn't able to come visit. She's giving Kiltie special food and dosed her with a treatment for hairballs. (It may be a compacted, deeply lodged hairball that is causing Kiltie to vomit.)

No vomiting since I took Kiltie in. No poop either. Sandi says if all looks OK tomorrow, then likely I can bring Kiltie home. Then we can stay in touch. My worry: Kiltie is holding everything in tight, including vomitus and stools, due to stress and that once she gets home she'll relax enough to start vomiting again.

UPDATE Feb 11, 3:00pm: Went to the SPCA today to visit Kiltie. Went with a local friend, Daisy.

Kiltie recognized me right away, as soon as I spoke to her. Came to me for pets and cuddles. Started purring and quivering her rear end, like cats do when they're very happy. She ate a few bits of kibble while I was there. Still no poops though.

I stayed for about 20 minutes. Daisy invited me to Wendy's, where we had tea and a baked potato, mine with broccoli and cheese.

UPDATE Feb 12, 11:55am: Received an email from Sandi. Kiltie is "peeing fine but no BM." She's eating a bit but very little, no vomiting. Sandi proposes I bring Kiltie home and see what she does, also feed her some human tuna, or salmon. "I'll give you some cans of what she's been eating in here.  We'll see how she is Monday and if she's still not eating and or vomiting again, we'll have to rethink."

Daphne is going to be in town today and has offered to take me to the SPCA this afternoon. So getting there isn't going to be a problem as it was on Wednesday.

I'd called a few moments previously and Sandi had been on the phone. So instead I had the opportunity to speak with Janine, another of the wonderful people at the Duncan SPCA. She said Kiltie is a sweetheart. Yea, that's my girl.

UPDATE Feb 12, 3:30pm: Kiltie is home and has already settled in. She's presently stretched out on my/our bed. I suspect she's in for a long sleep.

Brodie's reaction surprises me. This easy-going fellow, who treats other cats somewhat warily but otherwise is friendly enough with them, HISSED at Kiltie three times... so far. She does smell of where she's been, so perhaps that's why. His hissy fits haven't seemed to bother to Kiltie.

Kiltie Goes to SPCA

I've thought about not writing this.

Our intention when starting this blog was to share our day-to-day lives in the poverty well, to put two human faces on it. It means sharing the decisions we make, the barriers we confront, the silly things we do, our talents, our faults, even certain toilet habits.

The point was to bring home the reality of two lives in poverty and their struggles to maintain dignity and a sense of self-worth. If readers have been following this blog since it launched January 1st, they'll have already detected the inner conflicts, the desire and determination to maintain X and not do Y while ultimately having to do Y anyway, and then the struggle to adjust to the new reality. For life in the poverty well, it's forever a struggle to adjust.

The following I began yesterday, at 2:30 in the afternoon, as I waited for Daphne to arrive with a car to transport Kiltie and I to the SPCA.

--

I'm crying as I write this.

Kiltie got sick again, was vomiting the past two days. An hour ago, she vomited blood. This condition is new and unlike the two urinary tract infections she had previously. Those appear to have cleared up entirely, thanks to a special diet paid for by a kind benefactor and several hit-and-miss series of antibiotics.

Kiltie and I have been together for ten years, ever since I rescued her when she was about eight weeks old.

Today, I can't keep doing it anymore. There's no money to have Kiltie go back to the vet, again, be examined, again, get x-rays and likely go to surgery. So I must do what I've dreaded having to do these past three years, since she first developed FLUTD. I've phoned Daphne and she's coming over. Together, we're going to the SPCA. They will take care of Kiltie in a way I can't. It's a no-kill, clean, caring shelter with lots of volunteers. I'm bringing the blanket Brodie uses so Kiltie will feel a sense of home; and a full prescription of Cipro that I've had standing by, just in case.

--

Last night was the first night without Kiltie. Emotionally exhausted, I slept 11 hours. Brodie and I cuddled more than usual, last night and again this morning.

Tonight or tomorrow night we may have Kiltie back. The lady at the SPCA - manager Sandi Trent, it turns out - said they'd prefer to keep Kiltie with me ... if it's possible; that they'd likely not be able to find Kiltie a new home, given her age and maybe needing special care.

Sandi said to leave Kiltie with them for a day or two and for me to call her later today. They'll get Kiltie vet-checked, monitor her condition and see what they can do to support her staying with me... And I'm crying all over again, dammit.

People who make the blanket declaration that poor people shouldn't have pets have no clue.

Did you pick up above that I rescued Kiltie? She's had ten years of life, a good life in a home where she has been much loved. Those ten years she likely wouldn't have had.

Kiltie and Brodie (I rescued him too*) have also been my lifeline. Too many times to count, their presence prevented my suicide. As a mother would feel about her children, I couldn't, wouldn't, leave my two furry companions without someone to care for them. They needed me, someone, to make sure they were alright. I'd wonder what would happen if I died and feared no one would take the two cats in; or if they did, it wouldn't be a good home and then they'd be abused or die.

Kiltie and Brodie are the only reasons I kept going through some terrible years, including the years I was doing the WISE project.

I will always need an animal companion. They help me maintain my humanity....

Which brings up the point of BC's anti-pets tenancy act. Rarely in this province can one find a rental unit - private, subsidized or public - that permits animal companions.

*Foolishly, in late 2000 I expected to become employed. Didn't want Kiltie to be alone all day, hence I got a second cat. Never did get anything but brief, contract or part-time employment.

ETA: It's 1:40pm and I've just spoken with Sandi at the SPCA using SkypeOut (as I did to contact Daphne - I haven't a phone). Kiltie's vet hasn't returned Sandi's call yet. Kiltie hasn't eaten since she arrived but there's also been no vomiting. Sandi will keep her there another day. We're both thinking Kiltie may not be eating due to stress (as her human). If she still hasn't eaten by tomorrow afternoon, Sandi may take her home to her place and put her in a room of her own so she might settle down. Either way, there's two of us now concerned with Kiltie's health and I feel relieved Kiltie is in good, caring hands.

See also this and this follow-up.

A Day in the Life: Visiting the Food Bank

A week ago, I described one of the ways in which the food bank culture limits choice.

Almost two years ago, in a post on Challenging the Commonplace, I wondered how much thinner I could slice my bread. Since then, of course, bread prices have shot up even further, as have the prices of flour, yeast, molasses, honey and oil - all ingredients for making whole wheat bread in a bread-making machine.

I acquired one of those machines not long after writing that post, thanks to friend Daphne. And for almost a year I did make my own bread. Then those prices went up and up and up and I couldn't do that anymore either.

All of which is a roundabout way of telling you why I visited the food bank today. It was to get bread.

It was my third visit in as many months. Only to get bread, you understand, not to stop for a meal or to sign up for a hamper once a month. I don't do well in social situations and asking for help is a non-starter, so I would go in, get my bread, and quickly exit.

Each time I've been to the food bank, I couldn't help but notice the brightly-coloured food laid out on the table directly behind me, opposite the bread shelves; with plates and utensils alongside, inviting anyone who wanted to, to sit down and dig in.

So, yes, today I went to the food bank, to do my grab-bread-and-run errand.

But it was not quite run. It was more like a slow inch-by-inch exit with eyeballs glued in the opposite direction to that of my body.

Having exited, I headed off to Sears to pick up two camisoles I'd purchased on a gift card - thanks to the reward points I'd earned from having made wise use of my credit card. All the while I thought of those cold salad dishes at the food bank: wild rice mixed with tomato and what looked like currants, seeds and onion and a great bowl of mixed leafy greens. There was more, but those were the two dishes I'd had my eyes on.

Still thinking of the food, from Sears I went to the pet store to get some canned stuff for Kiltie, who needs a special diet. She eats better than the human, natch.

I returned home by way of the street that has the food bank. And walked into the building. Went directly to that table, grabbed a small plate and fork, put a scoop of wild rice mix and another of greens on the plate, sat down and ate.

Oh. My. Goodness. It felt like my damn veins were flowing like a spring river, the food was that good; and I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the different textures either.

We are fortunate in the Cowichan Valley. Over the past two years or so, our local community gardens have set aside a place for growing food for the food bank. That explains why the spreads at the no-longer-just-soup kitchen include fresh fruit and veggies over our long growing season. But how our food bank is managing it in the off-season I don't know. Regardless, this is one very grateful recipient.

Today was my first meal at the food bank. I may eat some more meals there.

Thank you to the people who run the Cowichan Valley Basket Society, including Dave the cook, and the driving force that is Betty Anne Devitt. Thank you to the grocers and the people of the Valley who make such nutritious food available.