Saying Goodbye

We said goodbye to Tino, our beloved cat of 15 years, Saturday morning. He let us know on Friday that it was time, and Brenda, our vet, came to the house early Saturday morning. We are incredibly sad, but thankful that Tino has now crossed the Rainbow Bridge and is no longer in pain. I told him to chase butterflies and eat as much chicken as he wants, and he thought that was a good idea. Our household won’t be the same without him, but…as Freddy Mercury once sang, “Who wants to live forever?” We had a great life with our little mister, and now he’s moved on to his next adventure.

We finally have beautiful sunshine. I hope everyone is enjoying summer weather this week.

Rest in peace, dear sweet Valentine, we love you!

Valentine "Tino" Sellie

Feb. 14, 1993 - June 28, 2008

Adventures in Gardening, Part One

I am the only one in my family who did not inherit the gardening gene. My mom has beautiful gardens; my dad and his wife have beautiful gardens and even grow their own vegetables (I can’t leave their house without a trunk full of lettuce). My brother is also an excellent gardener and my sister is a MASTER Gardener. She and her husband run their own nursery, for crying out loud. But me? I am the family member who has beauty bark in her yard…and shrubs you can’t kill (well, except for the one…but a shrub can only handle so much dog pee). To be fair, the husband takes great pride in his lawn…but that’s a guy thing and kind of expected.

We bought our current house just over four years ago and the couple who owned it before us must have spent thousands to landscape the backyard. It has a pond, fountain, beautiful stone benches, a path, etc. But when we moved in, we just didn’t have the time to maintain it. For awhile, we paid a landscaping company to keep it decent, then decided to have a go at it ourselves.

I have decided that THIS IS THE SUMMER I WILL BECOME A GARDENER. Really. Honestly. Why? My four-year-old son has inherited the family gardening gene (sigh). I can’t deny him, so I must set a good example. Well, after spending three weekends weeding, here’s how our first flower planting session went.

Me: “Let’s dig holes, mix planting soil in them, and plant the flowers we just bought.”
Son: “Okay!” Grabs ball and proceeds to play fetch with dogs.
Me: Digs hole, turns to grab potting soil.
Dog: drops ball in newly dug hole.
Me: Throws ball across yard and dumps potting soil in hole.
Son: “Oooh a worm, can I touch it?”
Me: Tries not to look horrified at worm in son’s hand, explains why worms are good for the garden.
Dog: Drops ball in hole.
Me: Yells at dog, grabs ball and throws it across yard.
Son: Runs across yard with plant in hand.
Plant: "I is wilting now."
Me: Retrieves plant.
Dog: Drops ball in hole.
Me: Yells at dog, grabs ball, throws it across yard and quickly plants flower.
Son: “It needs water.”
Me: Grabs hose.
Dog: Drops ball on flower.
Me: Sighs.

Something Warm and Mushy

And it's not my son's breakfast.

Here's today's AAAWWW moment. God, what did we do before You Tube?

Sad Dogs

I didn't realize today is Bring Your Dog to Work Day. Not that my workplace would condone such a thing...but Max and Brandy are at home, sad. I'll have to tell them that since The Husband works from home...technically HE brought them to work today. Think they will buy it?

Congratulations Kelly!

My super fabulous agent extraordinaire Colleen Lindsay just sold fellow client Kelly Gay's book in a two book deal. Visit Kelly's Blog for more info and to say congrats.

Yey Kelly and Colleen! Woot Woot! Can't wait to read the first book!

On a Lighter Note

I worked on Take One today, and wrote what I thought was a pretty funny and vindictive scene.

It's so satisfying to screw the bad guy in writing...makes life's inequities much more bearable.

Sigh

How do you explain to a four-year-old that your dear kitty of 15-years is going to pass away soon? Tino's cancer is obviously advancing and it's tearing us up. I've ordered "Cat Heaven" and "For Every Cat an Angel" for him. We'll see if I can get through them without blubbering and freaking him out even more. Sigh. Why can't pets live as long as we do?