So I'm slowly thinking of and starting my book for my Grandma's birthday in August, I still haven't decided on how many there will be; but I guess it will depend on the length of the stories. So, here's the first one!:)
She looked up from the latest spelling test she had been grading; this was her favorite time of the day, 'The Reading Club' she gave her second grade class 30 mins out of the day on Tuesdays and Thursdays so they could pick any book, and anywhere in the room to read. She prided herself in giving her little 7 and 8 year olds the freedom to take what they had been larning in class and let their mind grow and learn on their own for an hour a week. Many of the other teachers did not give their classes so much time to do this and seemed to always give her a questioning eye as they walked past and noticed silent students spread throughout the room with a book in hand. As she scanned the room to find the gigglers or daydreamers that needed to be brought back at the task at hand she stopped on Elizabeth. This precious little girl was wiping the sweat from her brow and concentrating so hard, Sue could almost hear her sounding out the story in her mind.
Elizabeth, now here was a student Sue hadn't had in a long time. The type of student that so desperately wanted to read but what having such a hard time learning to. Lizzy was the first one in line to the library, the one that had a pile so high she could barely carry them, and the one that was having the hardest time sounding out the words. Sue had students in the past with such problems but they were usually diagnosed with a learning disorder and sooner or later they were able to read. She knew Mrs. Clark had done everything a parent could do, she took her to see doctors, practiced with her daughter every night, she talked to specialist but no one seemed to have the answer. She heard everything from 'She is probably just a late bloomer, she will get there just give her time.' to other person not-so-postive people saying 'Maybe she's just dumb.'
***Writers Block, friend came over so I will continue to work on this later:)
'Writing is easy. All you have to do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.' -Walter Wellesley
22.5.11
16.5.11
Chapter 8ish, 3030
I feel like my heart is going to explode. Holy crap; why did I let myself get so out of shape? A better question might be why the hell did I think running a marathon would be a good thing to add to my list? I mean I haven't even gone 2 miles and my legs are heavy and the peson at the fitness desk is charging up the AED; eyeing me as he does. Let's be honest for a second, I'm really not a runner. I mean yeah I have the running clothes, shoes, heart rate monitor and subscription to Runner's World; phssh but please that doesn't make me a runner. And to be COMPLETELY honest, I don't even like running that much, it's the way I feel AFTER the fact and sometimes I have to wonderful if it's even worth it.
I can do this, it's only 3 miles. I've run 3 miles plenty of times before; if I could do it then I can do it now. Who cares if I haven't laced up the 'ole running shoes in oh 8 months? (Who am I kidding it's been a freaking year) I move the towel to see how far I've gotten on this God forsaken thing, WHAT?! 1.75 miles? You have got to be kidding me, I still have over a mile to go? I will never make it; if anything the treadmill will keep going and my body will be laying at the end when my head repeadly hitting the tread. This was a bad idea, I should have signed up for a half marathon. Oh wait, I did that too. What kind of crazy you-can-do-anything (even though you haven't done much in the past 6 months) drugs am I on when I sign up for these events? What am I trying to prove to people, let alone myself? I mean am I a disappointment if I don't run 26.2 miles? Will people be able to look at me and think 'Oh there's no way she's ever done a marathon.' Better yet, what will people think when I tell them I have done a marathon. I'll tell you what they'll think, that I'm out of mind stupid and obviously enjoy torturing myself.
My towel slides off the treadmill tripping me on the way down. I catch myself but the whole process is watched by every single person in the cardio room. It's like they've never seen a girl run on a treadmill before. Wait, they have and yet they would have never thought someone that looks like they're so in shape could possibly be THAT out of shape that she can barely keep up with the 6.2 pace, breath (wheez) as if she were 250 lbs, or land so loud that you would have thought it was her first time running. It might be a good time to tell you that yes, I do look like I'm in shape but it is all a lie and I have depended on that lie long enough. I'm tired of people thinking I could do a plank for 2 mins when actually I can barely hold one for 30 seconds.
Ok Emily, enough with the Negative Nancy, tell her to shut up and focus. You CAN do this, the question is do you want to? I mean no one will have to know that you changed your list a few times. Well your family will know because you already told them you were running it, and everyone at work, the girl behind the counter at the running store, your husband, the cab driver from 2 weeks ago and of course don't forget your dog trainer. Damnit, why do I have such a big mouth, don't I know by now that my failures are less embarrassing when no one knows about them. Correction, it's almost worse beacause I know, and knowing that I have failed or quit yet another goal or dream is worse than anything. I'm tired of letting myself down. I do want to do this; so many people have talked about what an experience running a marathon is. I mean I'll be pushing myself to my body's limits. Wouldn't it be nice to know what my limits are, or better yet find out that something I once thought was a limit isn't anymore?
I smile to myself, crank up my Chevelle song on my ipod and hop back on the treadmill. I decide not to replace the towel. I don't need to keep this a secret and I don't need to hide any of the information that's on the treadmill from me or anyone else in the room for that matter. I pick up the pace to 6.3 and give the thumbs up to the trainer behind the desk (no life saving needed today my man) As I feel the sweat drip down my back, feel my leg musles flex and relax as they carry my body in the forward motion and see my reflection in the mirror I realize; yes, yes I do enjoy torturing myself.
I can do this, it's only 3 miles. I've run 3 miles plenty of times before; if I could do it then I can do it now. Who cares if I haven't laced up the 'ole running shoes in oh 8 months? (Who am I kidding it's been a freaking year) I move the towel to see how far I've gotten on this God forsaken thing, WHAT?! 1.75 miles? You have got to be kidding me, I still have over a mile to go? I will never make it; if anything the treadmill will keep going and my body will be laying at the end when my head repeadly hitting the tread. This was a bad idea, I should have signed up for a half marathon. Oh wait, I did that too. What kind of crazy you-can-do-anything (even though you haven't done much in the past 6 months) drugs am I on when I sign up for these events? What am I trying to prove to people, let alone myself? I mean am I a disappointment if I don't run 26.2 miles? Will people be able to look at me and think 'Oh there's no way she's ever done a marathon.' Better yet, what will people think when I tell them I have done a marathon. I'll tell you what they'll think, that I'm out of mind stupid and obviously enjoy torturing myself.
My towel slides off the treadmill tripping me on the way down. I catch myself but the whole process is watched by every single person in the cardio room. It's like they've never seen a girl run on a treadmill before. Wait, they have and yet they would have never thought someone that looks like they're so in shape could possibly be THAT out of shape that she can barely keep up with the 6.2 pace, breath (wheez) as if she were 250 lbs, or land so loud that you would have thought it was her first time running. It might be a good time to tell you that yes, I do look like I'm in shape but it is all a lie and I have depended on that lie long enough. I'm tired of people thinking I could do a plank for 2 mins when actually I can barely hold one for 30 seconds.
Ok Emily, enough with the Negative Nancy, tell her to shut up and focus. You CAN do this, the question is do you want to? I mean no one will have to know that you changed your list a few times. Well your family will know because you already told them you were running it, and everyone at work, the girl behind the counter at the running store, your husband, the cab driver from 2 weeks ago and of course don't forget your dog trainer. Damnit, why do I have such a big mouth, don't I know by now that my failures are less embarrassing when no one knows about them. Correction, it's almost worse beacause I know, and knowing that I have failed or quit yet another goal or dream is worse than anything. I'm tired of letting myself down. I do want to do this; so many people have talked about what an experience running a marathon is. I mean I'll be pushing myself to my body's limits. Wouldn't it be nice to know what my limits are, or better yet find out that something I once thought was a limit isn't anymore?
I smile to myself, crank up my Chevelle song on my ipod and hop back on the treadmill. I decide not to replace the towel. I don't need to keep this a secret and I don't need to hide any of the information that's on the treadmill from me or anyone else in the room for that matter. I pick up the pace to 6.3 and give the thumbs up to the trainer behind the desk (no life saving needed today my man) As I feel the sweat drip down my back, feel my leg musles flex and relax as they carry my body in the forward motion and see my reflection in the mirror I realize; yes, yes I do enjoy torturing myself.
30by30
**So most of you know that I have a little 'to-do' list called 30by30 and one of the goals on the list actually to write a book, I have like 4 books in the works, ha! So I think I have that goal covered. But I wanted to share in this entry my 30by30 ....
1. Build my character
2. Eat naturally for one month
3. Live anywhere but Elkhart
4. Do something that scares me every year
5. Write a book
6. Get rid of cable
7. Plant a garden
8. Run a Marathon
9. Inspire someone
10. Nude model for an art class
11. start our blanket
12. stop drinking pop
13. Go braless for a day
14. Do an olympic tri
15. Give up my cell phone for a month
16. Start a book club
17. Volunteer
18. Learn to meditate and stick with it
19. be able to do a bodyweight pull up
20. Be able to do a pistol squat
21. Be my natural hair color for a year
22. Read the entire Bible
23. Take a class (i.e. language, photo, art)
24. Do a bikini or figure competition
25. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
26. Become CSCS certified
27. Become financially sound
28. Give up materialistic things (i.e. crap in my closet)
29. Go commando for a day
30. Become a mom.
1. Build my character
2. Eat naturally for one month
3. Live anywhere but Elkhart
4. Do something that scares me every year
5. Write a book
6. Get rid of cable
7. Plant a garden
8. Run a Marathon
9. Inspire someone
10. Nude model for an art class
11. start our blanket
12. stop drinking pop
13. Go braless for a day
14. Do an olympic tri
15. Give up my cell phone for a month
16. Start a book club
17. Volunteer
18. Learn to meditate and stick with it
19. be able to do a bodyweight pull up
20. Be able to do a pistol squat
21. Be my natural hair color for a year
22. Read the entire Bible
23. Take a class (i.e. language, photo, art)
24. Do a bikini or figure competition
25. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
26. Become CSCS certified
27. Become financially sound
28. Give up materialistic things (i.e. crap in my closet)
29. Go commando for a day
30. Become a mom.
10.5.11
Untitled Chapter 1-ish
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry! They come anyway. I can feel them fall around my apple shaped cheeks and their heat radiate against my skin. I hope they can feel me radiate my hatred right back at them. This is the third night in a row that I've cried once I've gotten into bed. Why can't they just leave me alone? Isn't it bad enough that I'm fat; do I really have to pity myself to the point of tears? Oh, I should probably introduce myself, I'm pathetic, wait wait I mean I'm Casey. I know this is probably not the greatest first impression but I feel it is important for you to know what rock bottom looked like for me. What? You imagined rock bottom being me with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream watching yet another trashy reality show hating myself? Oh no, that was just me hitting a few bumps on the fall down. Rock bottom was when I actually thought about ending it all,over something that I actually had control over. I use the word control very loosely in that sentence by the way.
So there I was laying in my bed, in the dark and in tears. Now I've been in this situation before. The first time my heart was broken, the time my mom told me she was disappointed in me, the first time I heard someone call me fat. This night was different though, I had lost my hope. I didn't see a point to trying another diet or exercise routine when I knew I would just fail and probably have another 10 lbs added on instead of lost. As I wiped the tears away I was making a mental to-do list for the next day; most people would think of a to-do list to go something like this:
1. Pick up dry cleaning.
2. Workout
3. Call Mom
Etc, etc. My to-do list looked a little something like this:
1. put plastic down on bathroom floor
2. type up suicide letter.
3. pay bills! must not stress mom more than needed
4. Find a home for Arthur...
Arthur. How could I not think of Arthur? It was as if he could read my mind because my furry child hopped up onto the bed and began licking my cheeks. Now I know the scientific reasoning is probably because the cat probably just wanted the salt, whatever, I took it as a sign of love and as if he was saying 'Don't be sad Mommy, I love you no matter what you weigh.' If you are thinking about a nice white room with soft padded walls to put me in right now because of my human-like relationship I have with my cat, no worries, my mom reminds me quite frequently that she has one on speed dial for the moment I crack. Gee, thanks mom.
Anyway, I'm getting off track, back to Arthur. He was my rebound love right after my divorce; which to be honest he turned into my one and only love. I decided after Scott left me (oh you'll hear about him later, because lets be honest he had a LOT to do with this extra 50 I'm carrying now) that I needed a companion. I went to the local humane society and as I walked in they were taking this charcoal gray cat out of an animal carrier. He looked quite sad to be honest; his sea green eyes were dark and I'm sure if there were a mirror around I could have seen we had the same expression on our faces. The lady that was holding him looked up and saw me. 'His family just left him here, they said they were more 'dog people'. Poor fella, not wanted and unloved. I hope we have can find a home for him soon' I had to remind myself as I fought back the tears that she wasn't talking about me, she was talking about the cat. I told her that she could just put him back in the carrier because he was coming home with me.
Now honestly I couldn't leave Arthur to think he was unwanted again, not needed, or worse not loved! So yes folks this is my rock bottom. I'm fat but seeing as I can barely say the 'F' word we'll just call me 'out of shape', divorced, and the crazy cat lady. There's no where to go from here but up.
So there I was laying in my bed, in the dark and in tears. Now I've been in this situation before. The first time my heart was broken, the time my mom told me she was disappointed in me, the first time I heard someone call me fat. This night was different though, I had lost my hope. I didn't see a point to trying another diet or exercise routine when I knew I would just fail and probably have another 10 lbs added on instead of lost. As I wiped the tears away I was making a mental to-do list for the next day; most people would think of a to-do list to go something like this:
1. Pick up dry cleaning.
2. Workout
3. Call Mom
Etc, etc. My to-do list looked a little something like this:
1. put plastic down on bathroom floor
2. type up suicide letter.
3. pay bills! must not stress mom more than needed
4. Find a home for Arthur...
Arthur. How could I not think of Arthur? It was as if he could read my mind because my furry child hopped up onto the bed and began licking my cheeks. Now I know the scientific reasoning is probably because the cat probably just wanted the salt, whatever, I took it as a sign of love and as if he was saying 'Don't be sad Mommy, I love you no matter what you weigh.' If you are thinking about a nice white room with soft padded walls to put me in right now because of my human-like relationship I have with my cat, no worries, my mom reminds me quite frequently that she has one on speed dial for the moment I crack. Gee, thanks mom.
Anyway, I'm getting off track, back to Arthur. He was my rebound love right after my divorce; which to be honest he turned into my one and only love. I decided after Scott left me (oh you'll hear about him later, because lets be honest he had a LOT to do with this extra 50 I'm carrying now) that I needed a companion. I went to the local humane society and as I walked in they were taking this charcoal gray cat out of an animal carrier. He looked quite sad to be honest; his sea green eyes were dark and I'm sure if there were a mirror around I could have seen we had the same expression on our faces. The lady that was holding him looked up and saw me. 'His family just left him here, they said they were more 'dog people'. Poor fella, not wanted and unloved. I hope we have can find a home for him soon' I had to remind myself as I fought back the tears that she wasn't talking about me, she was talking about the cat. I told her that she could just put him back in the carrier because he was coming home with me.
Now honestly I couldn't leave Arthur to think he was unwanted again, not needed, or worse not loved! So yes folks this is my rock bottom. I'm fat but seeing as I can barely say the 'F' word we'll just call me 'out of shape', divorced, and the crazy cat lady. There's no where to go from here but up.
28.4.11
Queen Once Said..
Under Pressure. So I want to write, right? And yet I'm putting pressure on myself as to what I'm going to write about. How STUPID is that?! I haven't written because I've thought of a few short stories but I didn't want to post them not knowing how people would respond to them. What in the world would I expect to do if I actually had a deadline of some sort for a writing piece? Wishful thinking, but still I can dream right? I just am doubting myself and I feel silly because, I mean, have I even tried? No, I mean I don't even know how to begin to start to think about sending into magazines or papers. Once again, I'm a dreamer, I have great ideas but my follow through is horrible.
So here are some random thoughts I've had in recent weeks:
Who would want to read what I have to say?
I can't even spell, really? REALLY?
I'm not as good as I think I am and people will think I'm full of myself when they read what I actually do write.
I will start 4 books and not finish any of them.
If I actually DO finish a book I won't be able to handle the rejection I get from publishers.
Who can think of 300 + pages of fiction to write?
I'm still haven't finished my letter I've been writing to my Grandma, how am I suppose to make it through my whole family!?
I think I'll write a book about becoming a writer and the frustration it brings.
My book will never get to the Target bookshelves.
Ok, those are just a FEW of the thoughts I've had lately, obviously I am crazy. Wait! Writer's are usually crazy so this is perfect, or is it poets that are crazy? I need a goal. Writing is just like exercise to me right now. I'm not going to do it if there isn't a goal/end in sight. So a goal of mine is my grandmother's birthday, Aug 10 (right mom?) she'll be 87. I want to be able to give her a real book (even if it is a book of short stories) for her birthday. She has inspired me to go after writing and I want to show her my appreciation. :) I'm excited about but I need every one's help. (Especially family!) I need ideas for stories; even if I just know some of her favorite things, moments, holidays, etc etc, then I think I'll get enough for a book.
Anyway, this post was mainly a way for me to vent my frustration about the pressure I've been putting on myself no less. My goal is to write a short story tomorrow before I head off to work.
So here are some random thoughts I've had in recent weeks:
Who would want to read what I have to say?
I can't even spell, really? REALLY?
I'm not as good as I think I am and people will think I'm full of myself when they read what I actually do write.
I will start 4 books and not finish any of them.
If I actually DO finish a book I won't be able to handle the rejection I get from publishers.
Who can think of 300 + pages of fiction to write?
I'm still haven't finished my letter I've been writing to my Grandma, how am I suppose to make it through my whole family!?
I think I'll write a book about becoming a writer and the frustration it brings.
My book will never get to the Target bookshelves.
Ok, those are just a FEW of the thoughts I've had lately, obviously I am crazy. Wait! Writer's are usually crazy so this is perfect, or is it poets that are crazy? I need a goal. Writing is just like exercise to me right now. I'm not going to do it if there isn't a goal/end in sight. So a goal of mine is my grandmother's birthday, Aug 10 (right mom?) she'll be 87. I want to be able to give her a real book (even if it is a book of short stories) for her birthday. She has inspired me to go after writing and I want to show her my appreciation. :) I'm excited about but I need every one's help. (Especially family!) I need ideas for stories; even if I just know some of her favorite things, moments, holidays, etc etc, then I think I'll get enough for a book.
Anyway, this post was mainly a way for me to vent my frustration about the pressure I've been putting on myself no less. My goal is to write a short story tomorrow before I head off to work.
23.4.11
'You say tomato I say tomato'
Well it has come to my attention that I am a horrible speller, even with spellcheck, I know it drives some of my fans (oook maybe my only fan) crazy but honestly, when I write I just go after it and sometimes my fingers are flying so fast across the keyboard that I don't even realize all of the spelling and grammar mistakes that I'm making. With that being said I guess it's a good thing books get EDITED before they are published! :) Since my book is still a work in progress, my blog is left to be the subject of my typo's and for now my editor is my mom. Congrats mom on the new position, don't worry you're not the only one that has seemingly asked to be a part of this dream of mine. Stephen has informed me that he will be my 'manager' when I informed him writers don't have 'managers' they have publistest he continued to talk about his role as manager so I let it go. It was kind of like the time when my cousin was a toddler and we handed him a video game controller that wasn't hooked up but he still thought he was in control.
Now that I have my crew in tact I guess the only thing now that I need to do is write my book! And since we all know about the infamous murder at Target I have started to concintrate my creativity to my book about my fitness job. I am excited to work on it tonight and would like to say I already have Chapter One finished (of course this is my very first draft so I'm sure it will look almost nothing like it does when it's sitting on the selves of Target (to be exact the same spot 'Still Alice' was but once my book comes out her's will be in the clearence bin, ahh sweet revenge!)
I have to say though, this whole writing this is a lot harder that one would think. I mean I have all these ideas but there are just some days when I sit down to write and nothing comes out; what does is word vomit on a screen that I end up erasing usually. My urges come to me at the most inconvent times, like 3am or when I'm driving, at work bored out of my mind. 2 am, walking the dog...oh well, I know every career has ups and downs but I was really hoping to be a little further along before so many downs came my way (I figured this would happen at the publishing stage)
I wanted to add that some of the short stories that I will be posting are not all based upon my life. Of course most of them might be influenced by something that has happened or is happening in my life but I just want to put that out there so I don't get any worried calls or concerns. I also don't want people to get the wrong idea about some of the things that I write about. Anyway, I feel it's time to get back to the grindstone and see if I have any creative juices left for some of Chapter 2.
Thanks for reading! (all 2 of you out there??:)
P.S. I left all of my spelling errors in this entry just to prove a point, fyi:)
Now that I have my crew in tact I guess the only thing now that I need to do is write my book! And since we all know about the infamous murder at Target I have started to concintrate my creativity to my book about my fitness job. I am excited to work on it tonight and would like to say I already have Chapter One finished (of course this is my very first draft so I'm sure it will look almost nothing like it does when it's sitting on the selves of Target (to be exact the same spot 'Still Alice' was but once my book comes out her's will be in the clearence bin, ahh sweet revenge!)
I have to say though, this whole writing this is a lot harder that one would think. I mean I have all these ideas but there are just some days when I sit down to write and nothing comes out; what does is word vomit on a screen that I end up erasing usually. My urges come to me at the most inconvent times, like 3am or when I'm driving, at work bored out of my mind. 2 am, walking the dog...oh well, I know every career has ups and downs but I was really hoping to be a little further along before so many downs came my way (I figured this would happen at the publishing stage)
I wanted to add that some of the short stories that I will be posting are not all based upon my life. Of course most of them might be influenced by something that has happened or is happening in my life but I just want to put that out there so I don't get any worried calls or concerns. I also don't want people to get the wrong idea about some of the things that I write about. Anyway, I feel it's time to get back to the grindstone and see if I have any creative juices left for some of Chapter 2.
Thanks for reading! (all 2 of you out there??:)
P.S. I left all of my spelling errors in this entry just to prove a point, fyi:)
Ben and Jerry
I have a confession to make. I have an unhealthy-slightly obsessed love for Ben and Jerry. They are so sweet, always puts me in a good mood and mostly importantly; they are there when I need comfort. Now probably 80% of you thought I was talking about the ice cream, even though, yes, of course I love Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream I was actually talking about my cats. I have two manx cats that I named Ben and Jerry in honor of the ice cream. I thought Tom and Jerry might be cute though, but 1. I dont' think my brother-in-law would appreciate a cat named after him, especially since he is severely allergic to them. and 2. I do not enjoy cartoons at the same level that I enjoy ice cream. Come to think of it, I don't think there is much out there that I enough at the same level as I do ice cream..but that's besides the point and I'm getting off topic.
Back to the cats.
It was a humid June afternoon as I walked in the the Elkhart County Humane Society. I was actually going in there to start the papers to adopt two Siamese kittens I had met earlier in the week at a Petco near my house. I have to be honest, I thought they were cute but I didn't 'fall in love' with them when I first saw them. I figured that would come later as I got to know them.
As I was waiting for the volunteer behind the desk I decided I would take a quick look around, I mean behind the wall I had happened to be leaning against were so many furry creatures I could barely stand not saying hello. I opened the door and told the ladies I would be right back. I walked down the corridor and viewed the pictures on the walls of happy pets in their new homes besides the letters of thanks and gratitude from families that had adopted them.
I turned right and decided to go into the dog room first, even though I am much more of a cat person I still enjoy the smiling faces of the canines as I entered the room. Right away my ears were pierced with the echoes of barking that bounced off the walls. Some of the dogs started jumping up and down, others sat and showed me their obedient skills begging with their eyes to receive the attention they so desperately wanted and needed. I smiled at them all and read each of their bios to learn a little more about them. My attention was drawn to 'Chips' she was an adorable boxer who sat patiently as I read her bio with a broad smile across her face. She and her sister 'Salsa' were brought in by a family that could not take care of them anymore and had been there for 2 weeks. The bottom of the page was stamped with the word 'ADOPTED'. I smiled at the thought of a new family taking in this loving girl and giving her a place to call home.
I walked back into the lobby and started filling out the paper work when I stopped and randomly asked the lady if they had any manx cats in the shelter. She said they did and would I like to see them? YEP! My mom had a manx cat and I was so mesmerized by her dog-like personality that I was intrigued to have a meet and greet with two in the shelter. We walked into the first cat room and the feline scent smacked me in the face, even for someone who didn't have allergies this room was a little overwhelming. She brought me over to the kennel that said O'Brian on it and said the other one was in the last cat room with the name 'Kosovo'. She left me there to meet this mystery cat who happened to be all the way in the back of the kennel. I peered inside and found a small mostly white face with yellow-green eyes staring back at me. I opened the kennel door and picked him up. O'Brian's body was brown with black stripes down his sides. He had white paws and a white chest, it wrapped around his neck to separate the brown of his head and body. I noticed he had a black stripe from each eye that started at the corner and worked it's way down to the white of his cheeks. He had a solid stomach that felt as though there was a small balloon inside of his body. He let me hold him and purred as I stroked his head while I read his bio. O'Brian had been at the shelter for 4 months, he was neutered but still had his claws. He was brought in by a family but 'was excited to find a new home to call his own.' I put O'Brian back into his kennel and went into the next room to meet 'Kosovo'.
The first kennel I looked at was Kosovo's. He saw me come in and right away began to rub against the cage door meowing as if to say 'Open up and pet me!' His stump ( Manx cats do not have tails due to a genetic mutation, although some do have a stump) was slightly bent but I decided it gave him character. He was a gray cat with what appeared to be leopard spots in white and tan on his stomach. He had sea foam eyes that were peferctly round. I fell in love right away. I took him out of his cramped kennel and brought his face up to mind. He nuzzled his nose against mine as if he was giving me a kiss. I knew this cat had to be mine. I held him close as I read that he had been in the shelter for 2 months. He was found outside and a kind sameritian brought him in. He was not neutered and had his claws. He was described as being very affectionate and loved to play. I put him back into his kennel and walked into the lobby area. I was nervous to ask if it was to late to change my mind.
I told the women that I actually wanted Kosovo and if it was ok if I didn't adopt the Siamese kittens. They smiled and said it happened all the time and not to worry. The kittens were in a foster home and would more than likely be adopted soon. I noticed the chalkboard behind the desk that said for the month of June 'Adopt one cat and get a friend for free' I decided right there I would take both manx, filled out the paper work and told them I would be back on Monday to collect my boys!
The weekend before Monday I headed out to Target to get the much needed cat supplies I would need. It was so exciting setting up the house and getting all of the cat toys ready. All I had to do now was wait until Monday!
I pulled in the parking lot at 1 o'clock sharp. I was so nervous and excited all at the same time. I hadn't had a pet since I was 12 years old, and now I was getting two! I waited patiently as they read all my paperwork and prepared the cats. A young girl informed me that both of the cats where in the other room and even though they were not related seemed to be getting along quite nicely. They brought Ben (O'Brian) and Jerry (Kosovo) out to me; and me being the scrapbooker I am asked if they would take our first family photo. As they say the rest is history! :)
***( This story was getting a little long so I decided to do separate stories about both the boys at a later time)
Back to the cats.
It was a humid June afternoon as I walked in the the Elkhart County Humane Society. I was actually going in there to start the papers to adopt two Siamese kittens I had met earlier in the week at a Petco near my house. I have to be honest, I thought they were cute but I didn't 'fall in love' with them when I first saw them. I figured that would come later as I got to know them.
As I was waiting for the volunteer behind the desk I decided I would take a quick look around, I mean behind the wall I had happened to be leaning against were so many furry creatures I could barely stand not saying hello. I opened the door and told the ladies I would be right back. I walked down the corridor and viewed the pictures on the walls of happy pets in their new homes besides the letters of thanks and gratitude from families that had adopted them.
I turned right and decided to go into the dog room first, even though I am much more of a cat person I still enjoy the smiling faces of the canines as I entered the room. Right away my ears were pierced with the echoes of barking that bounced off the walls. Some of the dogs started jumping up and down, others sat and showed me their obedient skills begging with their eyes to receive the attention they so desperately wanted and needed. I smiled at them all and read each of their bios to learn a little more about them. My attention was drawn to 'Chips' she was an adorable boxer who sat patiently as I read her bio with a broad smile across her face. She and her sister 'Salsa' were brought in by a family that could not take care of them anymore and had been there for 2 weeks. The bottom of the page was stamped with the word 'ADOPTED'. I smiled at the thought of a new family taking in this loving girl and giving her a place to call home.
I walked back into the lobby and started filling out the paper work when I stopped and randomly asked the lady if they had any manx cats in the shelter. She said they did and would I like to see them? YEP! My mom had a manx cat and I was so mesmerized by her dog-like personality that I was intrigued to have a meet and greet with two in the shelter. We walked into the first cat room and the feline scent smacked me in the face, even for someone who didn't have allergies this room was a little overwhelming. She brought me over to the kennel that said O'Brian on it and said the other one was in the last cat room with the name 'Kosovo'. She left me there to meet this mystery cat who happened to be all the way in the back of the kennel. I peered inside and found a small mostly white face with yellow-green eyes staring back at me. I opened the kennel door and picked him up. O'Brian's body was brown with black stripes down his sides. He had white paws and a white chest, it wrapped around his neck to separate the brown of his head and body. I noticed he had a black stripe from each eye that started at the corner and worked it's way down to the white of his cheeks. He had a solid stomach that felt as though there was a small balloon inside of his body. He let me hold him and purred as I stroked his head while I read his bio. O'Brian had been at the shelter for 4 months, he was neutered but still had his claws. He was brought in by a family but 'was excited to find a new home to call his own.' I put O'Brian back into his kennel and went into the next room to meet 'Kosovo'.
The first kennel I looked at was Kosovo's. He saw me come in and right away began to rub against the cage door meowing as if to say 'Open up and pet me!' His stump ( Manx cats do not have tails due to a genetic mutation, although some do have a stump) was slightly bent but I decided it gave him character. He was a gray cat with what appeared to be leopard spots in white and tan on his stomach. He had sea foam eyes that were peferctly round. I fell in love right away. I took him out of his cramped kennel and brought his face up to mind. He nuzzled his nose against mine as if he was giving me a kiss. I knew this cat had to be mine. I held him close as I read that he had been in the shelter for 2 months. He was found outside and a kind sameritian brought him in. He was not neutered and had his claws. He was described as being very affectionate and loved to play. I put him back into his kennel and walked into the lobby area. I was nervous to ask if it was to late to change my mind.
I told the women that I actually wanted Kosovo and if it was ok if I didn't adopt the Siamese kittens. They smiled and said it happened all the time and not to worry. The kittens were in a foster home and would more than likely be adopted soon. I noticed the chalkboard behind the desk that said for the month of June 'Adopt one cat and get a friend for free' I decided right there I would take both manx, filled out the paper work and told them I would be back on Monday to collect my boys!
The weekend before Monday I headed out to Target to get the much needed cat supplies I would need. It was so exciting setting up the house and getting all of the cat toys ready. All I had to do now was wait until Monday!
I pulled in the parking lot at 1 o'clock sharp. I was so nervous and excited all at the same time. I hadn't had a pet since I was 12 years old, and now I was getting two! I waited patiently as they read all my paperwork and prepared the cats. A young girl informed me that both of the cats where in the other room and even though they were not related seemed to be getting along quite nicely. They brought Ben (O'Brian) and Jerry (Kosovo) out to me; and me being the scrapbooker I am asked if they would take our first family photo. As they say the rest is history! :)
***( This story was getting a little long so I decided to do separate stories about both the boys at a later time)
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