It’s been a tough couple of months around the Farm. First, we lost Oliver, our dear 17 year old cat, in September. Last night we lost our precious Roxy girl. Early in the Summer, she went in for cancer surgery for removal of a mammary tumor. After the surgery, she rallied, recovered, and had a wonderful summer ~ chasing squirrels and was the recipient of lots of spoiling. We dubbed her “Cancer Dog, the Amazing Survivor!”
A few weeks ago she began developing another tumor-like lump, as well as a strange skin infection. One steroid shot and two weeks of antibiotics later, the lump had shrunk and the skin condition seemed to be healing. However, her heart and lungs were not doing so well. Her legs were swelling and her breathing was labored.
Roxy age 12 was the eldest of our three dogs, but had the most energy out of the trio. She was a good-natured girl in all ways. But she had her quirks. Roxy despised hawks. Anytime she spied one of the winged creatures in flight over the hayfields, there would be heck to pay!
The past few weeks she was not the same energetic girl, and life was getting more and more tiring for her. Sadly, I suspected that it soon would be her time. No more heroic efforts. Just lots of love and TLC. And that she had plenty of. Just minutes before her final breaths, she had wagged her tail and perked her ears when Chloe was barking at a critter. Such spirit in a tiny little canine package! Now I know she’s running the fields with her Mama Jazz and Grandma Ginger, where there is no more pain and suffering. And only sunshiney skies.
Rest In Peace, Roxy
But wait, there’s more.
As if that wasn’t enough for one night ~
I also spent a very long time calling and searching in the dark for 4 out of 5 of our little barn kittens. They were just. plain. gone. At just about six weeks old and oh so vulnerable, I feared they would never return.
Finally after all this drama, I went to bed. I tossed and turned. It was raining (not even in the forecast). Could things get any more gloomy?
Fast forward to this beautiful, sunny morning. After caring for the other critters, I ventured out again calling for kittens. And, lo and behold, at the woodpile…
All 5 were alive and well and hanging out in the sunshine. Life is good again.
Oh, and look what else I found. In November? It’s not a perfect bloom, but yes, they’re still blue! (Apparently the birds love it too) ~
“I still believe in Hope - mostly because there's no such place as Fingers Crossed, Arkansas.” – Molly Ivins