Spots

It has been a rough year for our family. Poppie died in December, Smart Puppy (16 year old poodle,) died in April, Poppie's orange and white kitty died in May and his sweet old cat, Spots, died last week.

 
Spots was a special kitty, he was a giant harlequin bicolor cat that lived longer than any other cat ever had on the farm. He hung out on a couch or chair most of the time over the past few years as Poppie slowed down and Nana went from walking to the wheelchair to the bed. He was happy to lay next to her, but scratches happened and he was mostly a couch potato instead of a lap cat. Spots was smart, if it was too hot or too cold outside, he knew how to get inside the house through the little attic door. He made himself at home until he was discovered and relocated downstairs or outside.
Spots disappeared for months one time, and Poppie was sure he was gone for good. We will never know if someone took him and he found his way home, if he lived off the land (field mice and squirrels,) or if he had another home for a while and returned to Nana and Poppie's for good.
Poppie had him neutered, fed him stinky pate canned food, and cleaned the litter boxes when Nana couldn't do it anymore. As he got older, Poppie never wanted him to go outside, he worried that something would happen to him.
After Poppie died in December, the cats were outside more than inside. He would come inside to eat his morning and night can of food, sit on the couch or bed, and then go back outside.
I go to see Nana almost every week, when I can't, Number One daughter will go. She has some funny videos of Spots opening the big, heavy door, coming in through the attic door, and sitting in her lap and making her gag with his carrion flatulence. I had been seeing him less and less but was assured that he came to the house to eat with the other cats at night.
Two weeks ago, I made the trip by myself. At least one of the kids usually comes with me, but Number One son was working, Number Two Son and Number Two daughter had a summer cold with a cough. Since it was Father's Day weekend, I planned to get up early and drive to Veterans Memorial in Houston. I packed up my bags and went to the window to close the curtains. I saw Spots on the step of the pool. I rushed outside to check on him and sure enough, he was thin and not using one of his back legs. When he wouldn't eat more than a few bites, I knew he needed to go to the Vet. I firmly believed that my Daddy chose the animal lover (me) to take care of his beloved kitty. I drove home to Austin instead of the cemetery on Father's Day. He curled up on the passenger seat in a big fluffy towel and stayed there all the way home. I couldn't imagine what happened to Spots. I thought maybe a big bird had dropped him in the pool. At some point, I remembered that Spots was a swimming cat! He got in the pool on his own, but how he got hurt was still a mystery.
Hubby is the best pet nurse! He sat outside and watched him scoot around in the flower beds. Spots ate a few bites of food, but not much. He drank some water and got comfy in a crate.
I dropped him off at the Vet Tuesday morning. I wrote a 2-page biography and attached this picture (May of 2024.) He had a broken leg with an infection that might need to be amputated and a large abscess on his hip. Considering his age and condition, his bloodwork was good. Spots was dehydrated and in pain. The next day they sedated him and cleaned out the access, and sent a fluid sample to make sure he was on the right antibiotic. His pelvis and ribs were not broken. The Vet was fairly certain that he had been attacked by a dog. The daily phone calls from the vet were about the same, he didn't have much of an appetite. Monday morning the vet called and told me that he had passed away. I was in shock, she was crying, we all wanted him to pull through. I was so confused, why would Poppie orchestrate me finding Spots only for him to die? This haunted me all week long. I believe my Dad is in heaven, as far as I know, he died in a state of grace. I felt like this was mean-spirited and hurtful, but saints in heaven aren't mean. I was in the car with Number Two son and he asked how I was doing. He is the most theological of the kids and he shared his perspective. Poppie didn't want Spots to die alone in the woods. I made sure he was with people. The Vet and Vet techs had been holding him and loving on him all week. He was not alone.
When we were growing up on a farm, sometimes a beloved cat or dog would disappear and we would never know what happened to them. Years later, Nana told us that she or Poppie found them dead and didn't tell us to spare our feelings. The result of not knowing what happened resulted in fear, trauma, nightmares, tummy aches, and bad conduct grades for "daydreaming." I believe Poppie apologized to me from heaven by letting me KNOW what happened to Spots.
We buried Spots yesterday, he got to go home to Pattison. 

National Eucharistic Pilgrimage







On May 29, 2024, Number 2 son, Rainbow Baby and I drove two hours to meet up with the National Eucharistic PilgrimageNational Eucharistic Pilgrimage in ElCampo, Texas.
I saw this as a once in a lifetime opportunity that I was not going to miss. My biggest regret is NOT going to San Antonio to see St. Pope John Paul II. I was in graduate school and didn't think I could get away.
Poppie had family in ElCampo, we used to go visit a few times a year and when we got to their house, his aunt served us homemade doughnuts! When Nana and Poppie were dating, she would go to church in ElCampo, sometimes the Mass was not in English! I think it was in Czech, but it might have been in German or Polish, I'm still researching the churches.
The National Eucharistic Pilgrimage website said that the procession, "Christ in the Countryside," was starting at  St. Robert Bellarmine Catholic Church and ending at St. Philip the Apostle Catholic Church nope, it was the other way around! We made it to St. Philip's at about 6:05 and we quietly creeped into a pew for Adoration. It was exactly as it should be, all of us down on our knees in Adoration. The short procession between St. Philip's and St. Robert's began and a wave of calmness and belonging came over me. We were walking with Jesus and it just felt right. We prayed the Rosary in English, Spanish, and Vietnamese! 

The walkthrough ElCampo was lovely, people were sitting in their front yard greeting us and one very memorable gulf coast accented, "God Bless you all!"

As we finished the short walk at St. Robert's, the church bells were ringing and ringing! We found a place to sit after the Pastor and Deacon tapped people on the shoulders and had them move to the aisles. After another period of Adoration, the Pastor announced that there would be Mass! One of the Pilgrims was a Franciscan priest who grew up as a Protestant in Dallas, Texas. The bilingual Mass was beautiful and Father's homily about St. Anthony and the donkey were especially memorable, I love that story! 

After Mass, the Pastor invited everyone for a potluck meal in the Parish Hall! This was certainly a blessing for us since I had $16 in my wallet to feed the three of us before driving two hours home. Number Two son ate beans, rice, pork, green stuff, red stuff, pizza, and fried dough! He kept going back for more! Rainbow Baby and I had the most amazing cucumber lime agua fresca. She found fruit and rice to eat and I had some Mac-and-cheese, garlic bread, fruit, and fried dough. 

We met some people who had driven in from Victoria and they offered to drive us back to St. Philip's (where our car was parked.)

I am so glad we went, it was an amazing adventure with my two youngest and Jesus.

"Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked them, but Jesus said, "Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:13-14

Dad and Pets

"You're just like your Dad," is something I have heard in one particular instance. I am admittedly an animal rescuer and animal lover. Growing up, we always had pets, they were outside dogs, cats, and the occasional horse or pony. As we got older, we would sneak cats into our bedrooms and when we were living on our own, our house pets would vacation on the farm when we traveled. Daddy was a life-long animal lover and an animal rescuer before Wonder Pets and Go Diego, Go! His birthday is the first week of November, which is also National Animal Rescue Week.
Many, many friends, neighbors, and acquaintances have a beloved pet from the farm. Everyone knew that if their circumstances changed, there was a money-back guarantee and any cat or dog that came from the farm could be returned. Every cat had a place to live out its life and dogs that could be mentored would work along with his pack of blue heelers. His first blue heeler, Banjo, was a retired circus dog who was injured in the line of duty. He lived a full life out on the farm and when his arthritis made it impossible for him to herd the cattle, Reagan loaded him up in the Gator and Banjo would supervise his team and herd the cows from Reagan's lap. Some memorable dogs were Butch, his Catahoula cow dog that would joyfully ride on top of bundles of papers or in the front seat of the truck; Prissy Pricilla, our childhood poodle, Crissy, Mom's little-lap dog that loved Daddy with a passion; and Tootsie, Mom's Shorkie that divided her time between Mom's lap and rides on the gator with the farm dogs.
When Dad sat down in his Lazy Boy chair or laid down on the couch for a little shuteye, his cats, Spots and Buddy, or his dogs, JJ, Dot Dot, and Little Angel were not far away. As time went by, the "no indoor pets" rule was replaced with companion pets all the time.
He loved his big cows as much as his cats and dogs. His herd of Charolais cattle knew his whistle and would come running when they heard his tune. Mom and Dad's bottle- fed momma cow, Snowball, lived long enough to move from Jersey Village to Pattison. When she died along with several others the first winter, he took her to Texas A&M to discover frozen Johnson Grass is deadly. From that point on, his cows got hay and bags and bags for specialty formulated food in the winter. When a cow would get stuck in the mud and require rest and recuperation, he provided it. More than once, he did physical therapy with a cow hoisted up in a sling. He helped calves enter the world with arms greased up with Crisco, if a mother cow couldn't feed her calf, he would bottle-

feed it and make it a pet. His bottle babies would bunk down with the dogs for the night and meet him at the front door in the morning.
Daddy loved dogs and cats and shared the love through all the animals that originated or ended up on the farm. We all have pets that came from Pattison. When my kids were little, we had to check bags, boxes, under the seats, and inside jackets to make sure Poppie didn't send home a kitten or puppy every time we visited. Our dog Ginger was a farm dog. We had had her for about six months when she visited Pattison with us. When it came time to leave, she was nowhere to be found. We looked for her for hours, but John and I had to drive home to Austin. The next day, a Monday, I taught my middle school catechism students at church, and we all prayed that Ginger would be found. Tuesday, when I got home from work, she was in our backyard! Dad found her, drove her to Austin, left her in our backyard, and headed home without a word. When I told the students the following week that our prayers had been answered and Ginger was home, they couldn't believe it!
If there was a particular dog or cat that he thought belonged with a certain someone, he wouldn't ask permission, many times Dad would drive across the city to Mamaw's or Aunt Fannie's houses, put a dog or cat over the fence, stick a Houston chronicle in the box, and head home. Mamaw, Aunt Fannie, and Uncle Marvin all knew his calling card.
He had a lot in common with St. Francis, Dad could most certainly talk to animals! We all talk to our pets, and we know they understand us. Dad was born on 11/4, one month to the day after the feast of St. Francis's and if you know my dad, you know that he was late most of his life. St. Francis was certainly part of Dad's saint squad.
When we left early on a Tuesday morning for Dad's burial, Jessie forgot her doll, Lily. She ran inside, grabbed Lily, locked the door and we went to Pattison. We arrived home the same night around 11:00PM, as soon as we drove into the driveway, we saw a cat and then noticed that the door was open. John and Luke headed in first, no one kicked in the door. Jessie immediately started crying, "It is my fault, I was the last one out." I walked in and noticed that Einstein, our 15-year-old, deaf, blind, and arthritic poodle was missing. He wasn't in the house, he wasn't in the yard, he was nowhere to be found. We saw him on the security camera several times wandering around the yard, but we couldn't find him. I posted him lost everywhere! I think I finally fell asleep around

3:00 AM, I woke up at 5:00 AM and walked the neighborhood, but still no Einstein. I retraced the routine walk in our neighborhood, as I entered the San Jose church parking lot next to our house, I prayed, "Daddy, it would give me so much peace if you would help us find Einstein." Austin's huge network of animal rescuers helped us locate him; we were so thankful that he was ok. I know that my dad, St. Francis, and all the animals waiting for me on the other side of the rainbow bridge helped Einstein make his way home.
Late on December 8, 2023, there was a big party with fireworks at the Rainbow Bridge. Butch and Banjo led the pack of dogs, cats, cows, pigs, chickens, emus, bunnies, donkeys, ponies, turtles, raccoons, goats, bobcats, Foxy the fox, and a little chipmunk.

Who did you ask to pray for you?

Rainbow Baby had a blister inside her mouth, it looked like an abscess so we headed to the dentist. I made the appointment yesterday, they fit her in today. It was not a bad abscess, it resulted from a baby tooth eroding and a permanent tooth pushing through. The treatment is a prescription mouth was that cost $4.00. The dentist co-pay was $8.00, so for our financially struggling family, it was a true blessing! GREAT news!
When we got to the car, I asked Rainbow Baby what Saints we needed to thank for praying for her. Her first response was a friend that died four years ago. He was 5 when he died, she had just turned 6. It took my breath away and then she said she asked the babies in heaven to pray for her too! Some days I feel like a complete failure as a Catholic parent. Today, was not one of them. I'm so glad she knows what to do when she is sick or worried. I hope and pray she and her older siblings always remember that we are never alone and that we have known and unknown saints praying for us.

St. Joseph’s Salad

This salad sounds strange and I'm not sure how it came together, but the kids love it, especially if I use the hearts or romaine instead of the whole head. We have called it St. Joseph's Salad because we love it and everyone we share it with loves it too!

1 head of romaine lettuce
1 granny smith apple peeled and sliced
1 can chickpeas
1/3 cup sweetened, dried cranberries
1-2 T raw, shelled sunflower seeds (optional)

Vinaigrette:
1 ounce canola oil
1 ounce apple cider vinegar
1 T. sugar
pinch of salt
sprinkle of garlic powder
sprinkle of onion powder

Slice the lettuce how you like it, toss the apple, drained chick peas, craisins and seeds on top. Mix the vinaigrette well, pour it over the salad and toss.

St. Joseph, Terror of Demons, THANK YOU!

My COVID19 test was negative! My sweet family was joyful and relieved when we got the news. My gift was truly feeling appreciated.
I am very thankful that I don't have that awful disease. I still have a very nasty upper respiratory virus that is wreaking havoc on my sleep. Since I have been coughing for almost a week, I'm completely exhausted. I have trouble sleeping at night because once I get settled, I start to cough, I get the cough settled by drinking water and then I have to get up and go to the bathroom and the cycle continues. Last night was especially hard because Number One Daughter was in and out of her room all night getting beverages and going to the bathroom and I awoke to cat fights and a full clowder sleeping all over me. I barely made it through my 4 hour work day. My head was pounding. I took a Benadryl, Tylenol and was able to take my first restful nap in a week! I really thought the good news would help me sleep last night. I am 52 years old, I can never remember a cough or cold with a fever lasting over a couple of days. I am on day 5! I still feel as awful as I did three days ago when I went in for testing. At least two people pointed out that COVID19 tests occasionally are false negatives. I don't need to hear that! It is Divine Mercy Novena Week, I am choosing to Trust in Jesus that negative is negative.
One of Hubby's work friends from 20 years ago brought us a pot of homemade soup last night. A gift of love humbly accepted.
As we were doing our spiritual walk tonight, it occurred to me that my deepening relationship with Holy, Powerful St. Joseph has been the gift from this awful season.
Please keep me in and my family your prayers, I'm pretty grumpy when I'm sick. Right now, we have 50% of our house sick. I hope and pray that everyone else stays well and we get over soon!

Quarantine 2020

We need your prayers. Number One Daughter (15) and I have been running a fever since Saturday. On Monday, I called the CommUnityCare hotline, was able to immediately talk to someone and get referred for COVID19 testing (due to symptoms and my zip code.) I'll know the results in 3-5 days. (If I'm positive, they assume she is also.)
Self-quarantining in a 1100sq/ft house with 6 people hasn't been easy. There is a learning curve which has been especially hard for Rainbow Baby (7.)
Number One Daughter and I are usually the healthy ones, we need prayers of protection for Rainbow Baby, Number One Son and especially Hubby, he has an IgG immune deficiency and diabetes.
Waiting for results and self assessing my symptoms day to day is very difficult. I actually feel ok, I have lots of experience dealing with a cough. The past few days have been filled with guilt, sorrow and extreme worry. I think fatigue has me going to the "what if" place. I am a devotee to the message of the Divine Mercy and the irony of getting sick this week is not lost on me: 774 + O my Jesus, I understand well that , just as illness is measured with a thermometer, and a high fever tells us the seriousness of the illness, so also, in the spiritual life, suffering is the thermometer which measures the love of God in a soul. I can't go to confession and our parish priests don't have PPE, so I can't get annointed. No Mass, no Eucharist, no confession, no annointing.
I am a healthcare provider very familiar with universal precautions. I have been wearing a mask and sanitizing myself, grocery cart and groceries. We live in 78704, one of the Hot Zones. For the past two weeks I went into a single office which I sanitized before and after I used it. All of these things and I still got sick. It might just be a cold, I'm praying for the grace of a cold!
We need healing prayers and prayers of protection for the people in my little house who are not sick.
Jesus, I Trust You!