Regina I

Featured Amy17 Comments

Butterflies don’t have norireceptors

They can’t feel pain

At least that’s what they say

They also don’t recognize human voices

Well, that’s what they say

I’ve only seen three this year

The most royal of all of the butterflies

I’m a finder of lost things and valuables that belong to others

And animals that are lost or hurt

I found her struggling on the sidewalk

I halted my walk in more ways than one

Scooped her up in my hands, and she desperately tried to fly

She had no visible injuries

Not to my eyes

I took her to my neighbor’s where I thought she might find some blooms

I offered her water from my tiny bottle cap

She did lap it up and for a moment, and I thought that was that

But she still could not fly

Even though she desperately tried

So I brought her home in a shoebox with some flowers

But that’s not the part I really want to talk about

I want to tell you how she recognized my voice and how her antennae responded when I talked to her kindly

I want to tell you she was perfect with not a spot on her to explain why she was dying

I pet her little body and talked to her sweetly

I told her she was beautiful, and although she couldn’t get to her destination

She would stay here with me

I hoped for a miracle overnight, but I knew better

At first light, I checked her shoe box and she was nearly dead, so weak she was, ants were crawling on her

I brought her in the house and showed her all the plants

I told her I loved her and would take care of her

I put her in a plastic bag and placed it in the freezer

(This is how to humanely euthanize butterflies when they are already dying)

I took her out twenty four hours later and laid her on the table. She looked the same, but her body wasn’t contorted anymore. Her antenna relaxed to a normal position rather than contracted in a sort of grimace

They say butterflies don’t feel pain. I don’t believe them.

I want to know why a beautiful, gentle creature meant to migrate thousands of miles only flew a few feet before starting to die

And other malevolent beings are granted the gift of a lengthy, destructive life

I want to know why

Advice · animals · birthday gift · blogging · cats · daily prompt · Grief · Love · Writing

Discernment

July 12, 2025July 26, 2025 Amy18 Comments

What do you think gets better with age?

The ability to judge what is worth pondering or taking on. The insight and intuition to decide that something isn’t for you. The capability to decide that if something isn’t for you, you can leave it and go on about your day.

The wisdom to own your own shit and know that other peoples’ shit is not yours to own. To not give a fuck if people don’t like that you curse.

To determine it’s perfectly acceptable to water your plants wearing your bathrobe and your slippers. To go out in a very nice outfit, but not wear a stitch of makeup on your face. (This is closely related to wearing a bathrobe to water your plants.) Also, with age comes the knowledge and the understanding that what people see on the outside is not who you are on the inside. And who you are on the inside is much more important than what you look like.

My birthday is tomorrow. One more trip around the sun. Susie passed away in my lap this past Monday, and my best friend’s mother died about five hours later. It has been a difficult week, and I have scaled it alone, save for several good souls. And I have made it through. With age comes inner strength you didn’t know you had.

With age comes discernment. With age comes the knowledge that grief is love. You learn people can only ever treat you the way they feel about themselves. Sometimes you can do everything possible, but if you are misunderstood by others, it won’t make a difference. And you have to just let that shit go.

I have learned pets are a gift from above. Animals do not offer conditional love, theirs is only unconditional. They love simply because that’s what they do. For people who don’t know the love of a pet, or specifically a cat, I’m sorry. Your life has not been enriched in the way that mine has. Tiny humans grow up and they begin to place conditions on their love. It’s what the world does to us. But a pet never does. A 17-year-old cat still loves unconditionally, the same as when they were a tiny baby. My birthday wish is that humans may strive to be less conditional with their love, and be more like “animals.”

In honor of Susie, Happy Caturday, friends.

art · art history · blogging · daily prompt · Grief · history · Love · non-fiction · poetry · Writing

The Pictures

September 1, 2024September 9, 2024 Amy12 Comments

What brings a tear to your eye?

“Would you like to have these pictures?

I’d like to give them to you.”

Pause and reflection

“Yes, I would like to have the pictures.“

You would bring them to me

Before you went to Italy

I saw you and did not cry

“Thank you for the pictures.”

They are very beautiful

I like to look at them

And

I hate to look at them

They make me cry.

(“of joy” has been removed from the title of this prompt)

animals · Grief · Love · Nature · Writing

Frailty

April 3, 2024April 5, 2024 Amy32 Comments

April 2, 2011

A young deer collided with my mom’s car this morning. We were driving back from the grocery store, trunk full of food, discussing something mundane about the week; something I can’t recall now. We saw one deer dart across the left lane of traffic and we gasped. My mom applied her brakes. We momentarily believed we had escaped what could have been a horrific situation, and then, just as suddenly, two more young deer darted from the brush.

My mom did what she could to slow down, but there was no way to avoid what was to come. The third deer ran head first into the driver’s side of the car. A loud thunk was felt and we pulled over. Already I was sobbing. I did not look back. I COULD NOT look back. My mom was shaking and sobbing. People began to pull over, maybe wondering if they could help us, maybe wondering if we were ok. Some did come up to the car and talk to us, making sure we were all right.

Physically, we were fine. The car was not damaged. Emotionally we were not fine. I am still not fine. That young deer didn’t die right away, it lingered for maybe 10 minutes before dying. Someone – I don’t know who – came and took the deer away. I don’t know if it was the County or a person who was planning on utilizing the meat. I don’t care. A deer died a traumatic death in the middle of the road because of a man-made vehicle that could not stop in time. The people inside that car do not agree with killing of animals for sport, and one of them (me) is adamant against such activities. So, to accidentally kill a deer – or any animal – is, for me, excruciating.

To unintentionally kill a beautiful animal that has every right to live is a horrible, horrible feeling. I took my mother’s hand and held it. And we cried. I cried not only for that young deer in the road, but for all the other deer who meet similar fates, and for others who are cruelly killed for sport.

Finally, the police arrived and said they do not file police reports for deer collisions, and since there was no damage to the car, my mom would not have to fix anything, so need to contact the insurance company.

Deer hair lingers on the driver’s side window, though, and I can’t bear to go over to that side to see the small dent I have been told is there now.

So that’s it. Nothing can be done. We just go on about our day? What about the two other deer? Where did they go? Do they wonder what happened to the young doe?

Are they waiting for her on the other side of the road, off in the distance?

Sorry, I just can’t finish this. I can’t stop crying.

Please, whatever you do today, hug your dogs, your cats, your ferrets, whatever pet you know and love. And hug your people, too. We are all fragile in this life.

cats · Grief · Love · prose · Writing

Susie’s Origin Story – Part IV- Adulthood

February 17, 2024February 19, 2024 Amy30 Comments

Mama Kitty: she was already an adult when she arrived but the vet guessed her age to be around one. So not a very distinguished adult, but an adult. Mama Kitty enjoyed watching her kids grow up. Susie was her constant companion and this annoyed Mama Kitty, but she never let on – except for a warning bite on Susie’s neck. Then she would go back to grooming her. She enjoyed life inside playing games with her kids, and hiding when anyone entered the house. “They’re gone, Mama Kitty, you can come out now,” was something we said often. She enjoyed spending time with me and my mom. She wasn’t a lap cat, but she was lap adjacent. She was sweet and pretty and a good girl. She came to us in 2008 as you remember, and she did well until the fall of 2016. Over the course of a few weeks, she regressed to a state of anxiety and wouldn’t come out of the guestroom. We weren’t sure what was going on, but we put the litter box in there with some food. Bubba brought toys to the doorway in case his mother wanted to play. But she didn’t. She recognized me and my mom, and Susie. But she didn’t remember her boys. We’re not sure what happened to her, the guess was that she was suffering from thyroid problems, possibly cancer. In November 2016 my mom took Mama Kitty to the vet to be euthanized. I could not go. I have never been able to handle watching my pets euthanized and I have had many pets. My mother always took care of it. It was a tremendous loss for all of us. Susie missed her terribly, and we thought she would die. She was bonded to her mother, and that bond was very strong. The weeks were hard for all of us. The dynamic among the cats changed. Susie became more reclusive. She hid from her brothers. But Bubba was her protector from Rafa, just as much as he was an annoyance to Susie. As time went on, the new normal became just that, but with a hole where Mama Kitty used to fit.

Bubba:

If a person can have a soulmate in an animal, my soulmate is/was Bubba. The big headed kitten who caused his mother hours of labor stole my heart. I still haven’t gotten it back. He grew from a tiny bean into a fat gray cat. His belly fur was a soft as velvet. Bubba’s hobbies included: teasing his sister, playing with his brother, trying to nurse off his mother for nine years 🙄, watching TV (wildlife shows and tennis matches were his favorite), getting belly rubs, being a pain in the ass in general terms, assisting repairman as if he were a tiny apprentice. Bubba was afraid of no one, and everyone was his friend. When he grew up, he wanted to be a trashman, a UPS man, or any other type of truck driver. The problem with him wanting to succeed in an industry is that he was too lazy to work. There was a dichotomy there, and it was not going to be traversed. Bubba started losing weight gradually. In 2019 we had some tests done and it showed a thyroid condition. Hyperthyroidism is common in cats. There is a medication given to cats as well as humans for this condition. Unfortunately, Bubba was allergic to it. There was nothing else we could do except a total thyroidectomy. The surgeons warned us that cats with hyperthyroidism often have cancer of the thyroid and it could’ve already spread. So we didn’t go through with the surgery. I was devastated, but my holistic nutrition training had me studying for ways to treat his thyroid naturally. I found an online veterinary supply site that sold L-Carnitine. It was a liquid and we mixed it in his food. It wasn’t a miraculous cure. It was biting time. On December 4, 2019 in the early morning. My mom woke me very upset. “Bubba is in the bathroom and he’s dizzy and he doesn’t know what’s going on and we need to take him to the vet right now.” It was 2 AM, I think it was a Wednesday. We got him in the car. He was wailing; terrified. Bubba has sat with me often when I had vertigo spells. He would be right by my side the whole time. And I felt like I was failing him because I couldn’t fix it. He was too young to die. We walked in and they assessed him. His heart rate was well above what it should be. They said he would have a heart attack if they didn’t get his heart rate under control. There was nothing they could do. They came in and gave him some sedatives and the euthanasia dose. I pet, cried, and told him I loved him until he died. Then my world fell apart. It was not the first loss, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was so hard. And as I write this, I’m crying. I love that cat, and I always will.

Rafa:

Rafa was all black. We had a black cat before, a long time ago. Almost in another life. Rafa was gentle, clumsy, and he was a lap cat. Next to Susie, he was my mom’s favorite cat. He was easy-going and played with his brother. He did not like Susie. When they were little they got along fine, but as they got older, their relationship became strained. When Mama Kitty became ill, Rafa wanted to attack her. After she died, Bubba became Susie’s protector. He would sleep at the top of the stairs just outside of the guest room where Susie would be sleeping and he would guard her. He would stop Rafa from being able to come up the stairs to get Susie. The boys got along fine otherwise. After my mom died, it was just me, Rafa and Suz. You can imagine the situation I was put in. I was in the middle of two fighting siblings. They never did warm up to each other. In early 2021, I noticed Rafa was losing weight. I kept an eye on him for a few months. He started to develop bumps under his skin. I suspected he had lymphoma, but I wasn’t sure. I just knew that he was 13 years old and was declining in health. I was not going to put him through what Bubba went through, so I found a vet practice who would come out to the home and euthanize in a place of comfort for the cat. By September I realized his time was soon. So on September 11, 2021, I held Rafa as they administered a sedative. I told him I loved him and that he was a good boy and that he would go see his brother and his mommy and his Grammy (my mom). I cried so much. And I left the room before they could euthanize him because I didn’t want to see him that way. And so it went.

Now it is me and Susie. For now. She will turn 16 in April. I cherish each day that I have with her. I could not have imagined back in 2008 when they were born how much things would have changed by now. Everyone gone. When it is her time, she will go be reunited with her Mama Kitty. And they all will wait for me there.