Red Shutters

Blog soundtrack:



“Let there be many windows to your soul, that all the glory of the world may beautify it.”



As most of you know, I have a very elderly cat, Rover; she was 20 years old in March. She has a variety of health issues now, which are only getting worse. As the vet put it, Rover is in “hospice” care now. I feed her whatever she will eat, which lately has been tuna fish of the people variety and cream that goes in coffee of the people variety!

As a result of being an old cat, Rover has some behavioral “issues.” The main one being that she tends to pee in her litter box only 3 out of 10 times with her new favorite place to pee being down a heating vent in the entry way. To thwart these attempts, I placed an old cookie sheet over the vent. Now, she pees in the cookie sheet, which is a tad gross, but at least it’s not going down the heating vent anymore.

When the weather is nice during the day, she has gone to the front door and asked to go out. I was trying to keep her in, because it would also seem that Rover, as well as being deaf, might be a bit forgetful, as she began to roam quite far beyond her usual cat comfort zone in the neighborhood the last two months.

If there’s one thing I love about my house, it’s the neighborhood that surrounds it. Where I grew up, all the homes sat on at least an acre of land. I knew most of my neighbors, but we were all so spread out. When I bought my current home, I was a bit bothered by the small yard; it’s an older neighborhood, so the houses are also very close together, too.

I then remembered that my Dad spent hours keeping up with our yard, and when he didn’t, I made $10 mowing that acre. While I liked earning the money, I recall it taking me three hours to mow it and being totally exhausted upon completion. And upon further reflection, I thought, “Small yard, good. Big yard, bad.”

Given that the houses are so close together, it’s hard not to know your neighbors here. Jamie and Brian are 50 yards to my left, Susan is 50 feet to my right, Lou is 200 yards diagonally across the street, Ellen three houses down at the end of the street, and Harold and Eileen, a couple in their 80s, live 75 yards across the street.

After living here for almost 10 years, I know everyone pretty well. It’s the kind of neighborhood in which you can call someone for a favor, and you know that the answer on the other end of the line will always be “yes.” (Susan called me the other day; "Can you hold a board for me while I rip another one down, because I'm afraid the board might shatter the glass in the window when I rip the other board down?" I went over, held the board, and was home in under 10 minutes.) And, most importantly, I love knowing that if I scream, it’s guaranteed that at least 5 people will hear me!

In our neighborhood, we all tend to watch over each other’s homes and goings on. I am very good friends with my neighbor, Ellen. And, given that our relatives do not live close by, she and I tend to rely on each other for a lot like transporting kids, babysitting, and even the cliché “Can I borrow a cup of sugar?” When Susan had to put her cat, Pumpkin, to sleep two years ago, I went with her. And, I smile every morning as I watch Lou walk her dog, Rocky, past Harold and Eileen’s. She stops at their newspaper box, takes the paper out, walks up to their mailbox and pops the newspaper in the mailbox, so they don’t have to go down and fetch it.

Barbara, Harold and Eileen’s daughter, and her partner, Rob, are over at Harold and Eileen’s most of the time. Eileen has Alzheimer’s; they had put her in a nursing home, but Barbara was not happy with the care her Mom received, so Barbara and Rob moved her back home, hired nurses mostly round the clock, and take turns staying over there on nights when they have no nurse. I think in this day in age, it’s exceptionally wonderful the way Barbara and Rob care for her parents, especially since she mentioned it’s taken a financial toll on them all to keep her parents safe and comfortable in their own home.

When I re-sided my house two years ago, Barbara jokingly told me that when new shutters went up, they must be red again. (They were more of a rust color.) Apparently, when her Mom got disoriented, they would open the front door, push her wheelchair to the door, so she could see outside, and then Barbara would say, “See, Mom. There are the red shutters.” And, then her Mom would know she was at home.

I had really wanted black shutters, but when Barbara told me this, there was no question that I had to get red shutters again for her mother. I thought I can have black shutters one day; it’s more important that Eileen was going to know that she was safely at home. I guess that’s the nice thing about living in a small neighborhood. Because you’re closer, you are closer.

Anyway, in the last month, Rover has taken to wandering…directly to Harold and Eileen’s house. I didn’t know that she was being “catnapped” until Rob brought her home one night at 8pm to a panic-stricken me. This night, Rover had gotten into their basement through an open window, made her way upstairs, and then asked for a snack. I hugged her and could smell the scent of their house on her, the musty smell of a house that was locked up tight to protect its elderly inhabitants.

As the weather has gotten colder, I have kept Rover in more, but the past few weeks, she has asked to go out more. I let her out, go up to my desk, watch her totter across the road and up the hill to the kitchen door of Harold and Eileen’s, and then I don't see her for the rest of the afternoon. Most of the time, I assumed she was sleeping on the couch on the porch.

When I got home the other night, I looked for her to feed her and tuck her in, and I didn’t see her. I went inside and deposited my groceries, and then I went back outside. There was Rover. I picked her up, hugged her, and she smelled just like Harold and Eileen’s house again.

As it turns out, Rob lets her in whenever she knocks at their door, feeds her (apparently, she wolfs down all the Whiskas wet food there), and then she falls asleep under their dining room table, only to come occasionally and visit, and then go back to sleep under the dining room table. Apparently, she even found the litter box and used it.

When I spoke to Barbara yesterday, she said that Rover is now a frequent guest in their house. I told her I was concerned about Rover’s peeing issue, and she said that Rover uses the litter box religiously there; however, if Rover did happen to have an accident, it would certainly not be the first such mishap on their carpets. She then said, “Rover’s welcome as long as you take her back at night! And, some food would be nice!”

I let Rover out this morning, and off she went. I went to the grocery store, bought two boxes of Whiskas wet cat food, and then I drove back home and brought them over to Harold and Eileen’s.

When I knocked on the door, Rob opened it and laughed. I said, “I have brought you food for Rover!” Rob motioned with his hand that I come into the dining room, and there was Rover fast asleep under the dining room table. Moments later, Barbara arrived, saw the food, and said, “Thanks for the financial aid!”

It amazes me that Rover instinctively it seems found her way to a kind and peaceful place. I know with the other two cats and the dog here, it might not be so restful for her. Perhaps Rover just knew that Barbara and Rob were experts at “elder care,” so she thought she’d see if there was room for one more, and, bless Barb’s and Rob’s hearts, there was. In this neighborhood, it would appear that there's always room for red shutters and Rover.

Today, I think it’s awfully easy to see the “bad” things going on in the world; that is, you can look at the big picture first, letting the economy and everything else that is grim be the basis for how you feel about the world. But, lately, I have found that it’s much better to look at the small picture first. It’s not that I want to ignore the world; but, by looking at and cherishing the small wonderful things and lovely people closest to me first, it makes it that much easier for me to tune into the big picture and be hopeful and have faith.

“…the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to those who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

The Houndstooth Stilettos Will Finally See the Florescent Lights of a Corporate Conference Room Note:

Me.
Houndstooth stilettos.

Skirt…with appropriate nylons and non-fuzzy legs.
SECOND interview next Wednesday!
Wooo-hoooo!