I love Christmas Eve.
The best part of it and the day that follows is our kitties’ reactions to all the wrapping paper, boxes, and ribbons. The quantity of gifts under the tree matters little. The quality matters not at all. To them, the paper is for dragging off as a slain wildebeest. The ribbon, for leaping and shredding. The boxes are staulky places where one can hide and pounce. It’s a time of excitement and energy until they pass out for a cat nap on the couch beside us.
All three of our kitties are special needs kitties. Riley and Malley are brothers, age 7.5. Riley has had acute pancreatitus, has a problem with bladder crystals/stones, and is super-neurotic. Malley is asthmatic, has also had problems with bladder crystals/stones, and is fairly neurotic. DiNozzo is 4.5 years old, but still looks like a kitten. He’s been fighting 3 serious, anti-biotic resistant forms of bacteria for 8 months now and has epilepsy (for which he takes several medications daily). DiNozzo is also cat herpes positive and has a genetic issue in his bones which as a kitten, gave him a gimpy foot. (Gimpy foot healed, but he has a disposition to weakness in his limbs from this.)
Many friends and family were disappointed this year that we didn’t “toss the kids” at a boarders and take off for three weeks to visit. With DiNozzo’s recent diagnosis of epilepsy and his health issues, we’re still dwelling in the land of finding the correct medication dosage and correct medication. It’s a constant struggle involving multiple weekly calls to a cat neurologist. Simply boarding our animals with all their health issues isn’t a choice. We’re looking into using vet techs to pet sit or other options, but at the moment, DiNozzo’s health is too volatile.
These were our birthday cupcakes of choice this year. Gingerbread Cheesecake & Belgian Chocolate.
Our kitties are our children–ever toddler-ific balls of fur that depend on us. They snuggle on our chest to feel our heartbeat, groom us with rough cat-tongues when happy, and miss us when we’re gone. $15,000 in vet bills and almost 8 years later, they are still worth it. Seeing them play at Christmas is akin to the joy parents feel when their children open their toys.
We wish we could be a million places at once sometimes–to see everyone scattered across the U.S.–but honestly, come Christmas Eve, there’s no where else we’d want to be.
This is home.
Worth every pile of cat puke (which I stepped in first thing on my birthday Sunday morning), every vet bill, every cat scratch when feeding pills, and every pouncy wake-up at 5 AM.
I hope your holidays are full of laughter, joy, and home.
