RIP Gunner Baby

I don't remember the exact date, but it was in May of 2011 and my now ex-boyfriend who was my then boyfriend, Steven had just called my phone. "I have a surprise for you, I found a kitten at the gun range, he's the sweetest and cutest thing ever." Most girls would melt at the idea of being surprised with a kitten, but my control freak self was more nervous than excited. I called him back just to make sure he was serious, when he answered I heard the revolting cries of an obnoxiously loud cat crying in the background. I knew this was happening... Steven pulls his truck up, and I go outside to inspect this loud, large sounding beast. When I get to his truck I see an empty chinchilla cage and in Steven's hand is the cutest, dirtiest, tiniest little ball of fluff I had ever seen in my life. I immediately grabbed this sweet baby and held him up, I rushed him to the bath tub and cleaned him to find out his coat was white. I decided instantly he was mine, and I took care of him. I grew to love this cat, more than I'd loved a cat ever in my life. This cat was deaf, but when he slept on my chest i knew he could feel my heart beat as if it were all around him. This cat was my gunner baby, and I loved him so much. Gunner moved with me from California to North Carolina, we joked around and always said he got fat when he moved to the South. Gunner got huge, but I loved him. Last week, I noticed that Gunner had gotten VERY sick...and VERY fast. He completely stopped eating, he hid all day and he lost control of his bladder. I had no choice... So there we are, Gunner is laying on a blanket on a cold, metal examination table. I am holding him, hugging him and kissing him and gently crying. Robert is hugging me. The veterinarian gently breaks the news to me, Gunners gone into kidney and liver failure and likely wont make it another week. I am tasked with making a decision that humans shouldn't have to ever make, life or death. Then the moment I had been waiting for happened...a sign, from somewhere, anywhere. I was holding Gunner, and he put his arm on top of my arm and soothingly placed his head into hand. He looked up at me with exhausted eyes, and I could tell he knew. I'm comforted with the thought that maybe he asked me to do this task I was faced with doing. I confirmed with the doctor what needed to happen. I took a deep breath, I am a strong woman I can do this, I can do this I kept telling myself silently. I leaned down to kiss his head, and put my heart to his head so he could feel my heart beat, and my love. I felt his purr, so warm and comforting, so soothing. Then suddenly his purr stopped, I looked down, his eyes were closed and his body went limp. I let out a horrible, painful sob and buried my face in his fur...and cried. Gunner was gone.

I know that what I was able to do for Gunner, was a blessing. I am thankful I was able to put him out of his misery, peacefully. But that moment will forever remain in my head, and my heart. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. To literally feel the life leave someone you love, I spend a lot of my time thinking about where he went and what happened to his personality. In that moment I sobbed very loudly, I didn't feel weak at all. I felt strong, but even strong people have moments of weakness. We as humans aren't enabled with the ability to handle death so easily. I love my Gunner Baby and I'm happy I was able to give him a good life while he was here on Earth. I take comfort in thinking that a part of him will always be with me, especially at night when I'm cold and there's no one on my pillow. When I get warm, under my blanket I take comfort thinking he's there with me, cuddling me. What a sweet, sweet baby...

Spicy Morning Treat

I woke up this morning, showered and got ready for work. I poured my coffee into a travel mug and got in my car. I put on some Luke Bryan and "Country Girl Shoke It" all the way to work. Needless to say I was in an amazing mood 20 minutes later when I pulled into my parking spot. I travel into my work and upstair to my office, I sit down at my desk well prepared to accomplish my daily tasks at work. My coffee is going down quite amazingly, warm and sweet with a taste of cinnamon. I click my inbox, and there it awaits my attention. It turns out "Bob" doesn't like what I posted on an anonymous, public blogger site. "Bob" proceeded to call me an endless amount of words synonymous to fat, ugly, and depressed. Then further more he mushed down his caps lock key and pressed the five letters..B...I...T...C...H. For the grand finale, he told me I should, and I will qoute "Bob", "you should just do the world a giant favor and kill yourself!!!!!!". Take note of the multiple exclamation points. "Bob" is very rude. My coffee has never tasted better. ;)

Introduction, I guess

After exhausting all of my efforts on typical social media, I have resorted to my very own personal blog. I genuinely feel myself to be too opinionated, too in depth, and too personal for my "followers, friends, tweet watchers" to keep up with, or play nicely with shall I say. I think blogging my thoughts, opinions, idea's makes much more sense for my own sake then to rely on social media sites such as Facebook. Ultimately, I'm trying to avoid another endless comment war with my hostile cousins, aunts, uncles and high school classmates I spoke to once my entire life. I like the idea of having my own blog, not only does it sound very sophisticated but it's a mini soap box for me to stand upon. My audience, I don't care, it's merely refreshing to not have a "push notification" sent to my phone about how I have angered a relative with my latest political rant, or my gun loving hobby photos have sent my liberal uncle into a whirlwhind of crying. Maybe I'm coming off slightly bitchy, or maybe I'm just exhausted from hearing other people complain. Either way this blog is a win/win for me, and I guess all my moody relatives on the facebook social network.