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Archive for February, 2013

Heart Healthy We Hope

Ahh — only one day in the hospital this time.  Good.  In and Out.

My third cardiac procedure went well.  The cardiologist  also implanted a loop recorder, a monitor, to see how I do.  Right now,  four days later, it’s the only thing that hurts.  The probe insertion sites are fine.  Guess they’re used to it, huh?

So, I’m a bit tired as can be expected, however, I was glad I didn’t have to be in the hospital over Valentine’s Day, our anniversary.  The card and roses and Whitman’s Sampler and spaghetti dinner were better at home.

I’m planning our next big trip.  Look out, road, here we come!

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RIP, Sweet Kitty

“Have you seen Raggs this morning?” asked Bruce. “No, not this morning,” I replied.  “I ask because there’s a dead cat in the street around the corner that looks like her.”

Sure enough.  Soon our next door neighbor was knocking on the door saying, “I have some bad news.”

We went to get her.  She had puncture wounds in the belly and had been dead awhile.  We have a very large hawk in the area and we suspect he was the culprit.  She was a small cat, easy to carry away.  We brought her home and Bruce buried her in the back woods where she wandered and explored many a day.

Eight years ago, Betty, Christine and I were downtown at the Saturday Market and sitting on a bench were a couple with a basket of free calico kittens.  She was such a cutie it didn’t take much to persuade me to bring her home.  Of course, any one who has adopted a pet knows that a free kitten soon becomes a $100 cat after the first few trips to the vet’s office.

She was worth every penny. Raggs was a flower-child-cat at heart, a real free spirit, sweet but fiercely independent.  She loved getting her fluffy fur brushed.  Raggs even befriended some of the scruffier cats in the neighborhood, sharing her food,  as long as they didn’t try to fight with her.  Then she became Tiger Raggs, a formidable opponent.  This was her house and her deck where from the upper corner she had a 180 degree view of the lower yard.  Her domain.

Now her sweet spirit reigns over the back woods.  We’ll miss her.

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