Dear Tessa…

Dear Tessa,

I know.  Where have I been? We last left off with me trying to desperately save our beloved cat Jack that we had for a mere two days.  Then I left you to sit with that cliffhanger for a really long time; which was pretty uncool of me.

Here is how it went down for Jack…

I went out to check on him at 5:30 the morning after I–ok fine, Dad–had given him his vaccine.  And let me tell you, Jack looked terrible.  It was clear that he was not going to make it so I left him there to pass. After I got you on the bus at 7:15 a.m., I went to put Kendal in the car.  I decided to check on Jack one more time.  He was gone.  I picked him up to move him to a proper resting place, but was horrified to find that upon picking him up, full rigor mortis had set in–like straight through his tail.  I can’t un-feel that.  There is nothing pleasant about that.  I had a stiff cat in my arms (*shutters*) that I was trying to shield from our resident cat-loving three year old.  A dead cat is dramatic enough for me without Kendal’s knowledge of it.  So back into the box he went until Dad could come home and help me out later that day.

I admit it…we straight up lied to you about Jack’s whereabouts after that. We told you that he went to cat therapy at the vet so that he could get better; hoping that one day you guys would just forget about him. Cat-freaking-therapy. It worked for a while.  But your sister, with her exceptional memory, brought Jack’s name back out the other day and we had to come clean…well, sort of. We said that Jack was so sick and the therapy just was not helping him which led to his unfortunate death.

Oh and remember how I said there would be no more cats?  I lied about that, too.  You will come to realize one day that we have told many white lies throughout your childhood.

R.I.P. Jack.  The end.  You and your sister are both fine, and I now realize that I went to great lengths to shield your hearts from something you were both okay with in the end.  Boy when I am on, I am really on in this motherhood business.  But other times, I am so far off.

How is everything else?  For anyone else who asks, I use many phrases that involve swear words to describe life as it has been the last few months.  Take that for what it is worth.  There have been many ups and downs, and most days feel like we are just entering a boxing ring with a defending world champ.  But we battle on because that is what we do best.


Kendal’s face is all of us right now…

I can’t believe I almost forgot this–you have glasses now!  I mean you definitely hate them, but they sure are cute.  So far they have only had to be repaired once, which isn’t too bad considering how much you detest them.

In other news…you have a brand new baby cousin who is too cute for words, we had our first snowfall at the new house and we spent some much needed time as a family in the Dells last weekend for a family Christmas gathering. You gave us quite a scare when we had to get your labs drawn unexpectedly the end of last week, but all was well with your results.  Always full of surprises Miss Tessa Jo.  wp-1481308607512.png

Of course there is so much that I did not cover.  In time, though.  Right now we are playing a never ending game of catch-up in everyday life while trying to get ready for another beautiful Christmas.  More to come soon…

Love, Mom.


Dear Tessa: Kitten Rescue

Dear Tessa, 

We need to play catch-up.  But first let me tell you a little story…  

We got four new farm kittens on Sunday from friends a short distance from us.  It seemed like an appropriate decision to help with mice and other rodents out here in the country.   

Since we have had these cats, you and your sister have been obsessed.  That’s probably an understatement. But it’s rather adorable, really. 

I mean, come on.  Look at you guys! The kittens may not be enjoying your overzealous hugs and forceful drinks at the water dish, but I think they are starting to come around to your kind of love. 

I talked a big game about what their role as farm cats would be here.  But I am a sucker for adorable animals, and I crumbled as soon as I found one of them this afternoon in a very poor state. Shaking, unable to walk and lethargic, etc…this poor cat was not well. 

Oh my dear Lord…we have only had them for a mere three days…how did we manage this already?  How are we such terrible cat owners right out of the gate?! 

I called your dad, who found my level of concern quite amusing.  He clearly was going to be of little help, and I wanted to save this dang kitten.  Or at the very least, give it a good effort.

But here’s the thing…I know very little about what it takes to save cats–or any animal for that matter.  It was well after normal vet hours, and I knew that convincing your dad to let me take it to the vet tomorrow was more than likely not going to be an option.  (You bet I’m throwing that blame on him.)

I found myself doing what I do best and hitting up Google. My Google search history is outrageous and this only adds to its craziness.  I even went as far as entering its symptoms into a petMD website.  Unbelievable.

There I was on the porch, limp kitten laying on my lap, syringe feeding it chicken broth two different times in hopes to get some fluids moving.  It wasn’t looking good for Jack, who used to be Penny.  (I’m sure you can piece that puzzle together). 

Next thing I know, I’m calling my brother and then your Grandpa to get advice. Somehow I end up at Farm and Fleet at 7:30 p.m. to buy a vaccine, which worked out well because the chickens desperately needed feed.  At this point, I’m all-in on this rescue and I have made it my mission to get this cat through the night.  Come on Jack!  

Now I have an incredible fear of needles, and the vaccine needed to be administered in the nape of its neck.  Ok, I can do this. I’m committed, right?  Nope.  I poked it too many times without success and, thankfully, your dad intervened to get the job done. I’ll admit I probably would not make a great vet or nurse or anything of that nature. What started out as a desperate attempt to save this kitten to spare you and your sister the heartache of losing a pet and sparing me the unfortunate task of teaching you about pet death, turned into a personal quest for me to keep this fella kicking so I wouldn’t be sad.  You and your sister didn’t seem to be all that shook up about it.  Figures. 

At this point, I have no idea what’s really wrong with Jack.  I’m just hoping the antibiotic does the trick.  If he lives through this, I’m changing his name to Lucky.  And if he lives long into adulthood, you’re welcome.  

Also…we are not getting anymore animals/pets.  My wimpy heart can’t handle the whole natural selection, circle-of-life business that comes with animals.  

We will catch up next letter.  For now I have to go check on Jack. 

Love, Mom.