Moving along...

So the last blog post was something I didn't exactly plan. It was meant to be an update of all that has been happening since last year. But the absolute irony of what happened and the storm of emotions that followed was something I had to get out by writing.

Anyway, moving on...

Like I said before I don't know who still reads this blog but I have been largely absent for the past nine months. Because of that I probably have lost a lot of readers. It doesn't really bother me, I don't regret the time I had away and a lot of it was beyond my control.

In September last year our service provider got fed up with replacing the telephone lines that had gotten nicked over and over again. This is a problem in South Africa, people steel the telephone lines for the copper. The service provider eventually refused to install new lines. This meant no Internet for me other than what I had on my BlackBerry. Trying to post from my BlackBerry was a mission since the email post option didn't work very well. So I just thought "Screw it" and took a break. There have been a lot of changes in my life since then so for anyone that is still reading or interested here they are...

My baby boy Milo disappeared before Christmas last year. Milo had been spending more and more time away from my house as he seemed to be more interested in having adventures with his brothers. Eventually he only came home to eat and for a quick snuggle before setting off again. I knew I was not going to be living in the area much longer and would soon have to make a very difficult decision on what was best for Milo. But sadly I didn't have to. Milo would come home to eat but one day he just stopped coming. His brothers also disappeared we searched the area for all of them but they had vanished without a trace. We later heard that seven different cats from the farm had gone missing and someone had sighted a mountain cat- there are only two or three in the mountains where we lived. I hate to think about it so I rather would like to think that Milo and his brothers found a field with lots of mice and butterflies for them to chase. I was so heartbroken at loosing Milo...I don't think he ever forgave me for the time he broke his leg- he completely changed after that.

Since January I've moved three times. I have discovered that I do not take moving very well. It causes so much anxiety and instability in me that I become virtually useless and am prone to panic attacks. This is very surprising since I have lived in three different countries and the vast majority of my childhood was characterised by moving. The last move was significant in that after three years I have finally moved out of my parents house and onto my own. Earlier this year a friend of mine moved into a house where she needed to tutor a little girl for an hour a day in exchange for room and board and one meal every day. She soon grew tired of having children around her twenty- four- seven and offered the room to me and moved back home.

The house has got to be the oddest I have every seen. My room is very large with a bathroom that has a shower so small I need to open the door just to be able to wash properly. The house has a interesting history. It was bought by an American tycoon for his son who he later disinherited for marrying a stripper...who kept on stripping. My room was used to coach newly hired strippers on their technique. The two stripe poles where removed before my friend moved in but the floor still carries a reminder. The disinherited son later had to flee because he was wanted for questioning in a murder investigation ( he gave the gun that was used in the murder to the suspect as payment for "garden work" bet he regrets that) and agreed for the family that I am living with now to stay in the house rent free as both parents had just been retrenched from their jobs.

The family I live with are very nice, a little rough around the edges. The Dad who is a boat builder, cooks sometimes delicious and sometimes disastrous suppers that we all eat together in the kitchen and the wine is free flowing!. There are two children, a nine year old boy and a ten year old girl which is the one I tutor. Since I started with her about a month ago, I have started to strongly suspect that she is either dyslexic or ADD or both. It is a massive struggle for her to read and write and instead of spending just an hour a day with her I am spending four or five hours with her. It's tough and I feel for her, she knows somethings wrong and she genuinely wants to learn and do well. I am just waiting for the right time to broach the subject with her parents about getting her help. She is writing exams right now and it is just hectic.

Unfortunately three weeks after I moved in I found a notice from the sheriff taped onto our gate telling us that the house was being auctioned off by the bank because disinherited son had gone through all his inheritance and was now defaulting on his mortgage payments. Fortunately for us, it is very hard to evict someone in South Africa on account of the country having so many homeless people and squatters. So even if the house gets sold we have more rights than the actual buyer and the buyer by law, actually has to find us a new place to live. We also plan on evoking "Squatters Rights" ( yes they have rights)...I can picture my high- flying sister gasping in shock if she had to hear that. It sucks that I may have to move so soon after having just gotten settled.

As for work, after six months of being unemployed...I am STILL unemployed.I had a temp job covering maternity leave that come to an end in December. Employment is a real problem in South Africa. If you are a teacher, a lawyer or a doctor jobs are plentiful but most of these professionals head for foreign countries where there are more benefits, better salaries, less crime and the cost of living isn't so high. As for everyone else, South Africa for workers is a bit like Hollywood for wannabe actors and actresses. Most people here get jobs through word of mouth...it's who you know and all about being in the right place at the right time. It is vital to start building your connections starting even in high school, to get ahead. It is not unheard of to hear of someone with university degrees and even PhD's being unemployed for six months and struggling to find a job. As my connections are not exactly up to par looking for a job has been like banging my head against a brick wall.

My sister has sub-contracted me on her copy writing work and is giving me a small salary for my trouble. It is good for buying food and maybe a pair of jeans and a movie here and there, but if I had to pay rent I would be screwed. I am still studying and will be doing that full time through correspondence from July. It is ironic...I don't think I have ever worked so hard in my life as I have been doing so now...and I am the poorest I have ever been.

Anyway this has gotten a little long and I hope I haven't bored anyone to tears. I will have to break this update up into two parts as there have been two "happenings" that have had a massive impact on me this year and are very emotional to talk about.

Stay tuned....

Milo- First six months on the blue planet

I don't know when exactly Milo was born but we are estimating that it was the end of December/ beginning of January this year. His mother had back to back litters in a hole under the farm workshop. I heard that the kittens from the litter before Milo's had suffered cruel fate which I won't go into. It seems that fate literally dropped him into our laps- how strange that we happened to be driving on the same road at the exact same time Milo's mother was carrying him across. We had actually meant to be home earlier that day but were delayed for some reason I can't remember. I was told to take him because they shoot stray cats on the farm where I live because they rent some of their land to an organic chicken farm. How anyone could shoot a kitten is beyond me and I became furious and told the farm manager that he was to bring any stray cats to me and I would take them to the SPCA. I threatened to lay charges and go to our local newspaper. I think he found that more funny than threatening but obviously I must of made an impression because he started to feed Milo's mother and her remaining kittens. As far as I know they are still hanging out at his house but they are feral and he plans to take them to the SPCA once he has tamed them.

We have also seen a cat that we are sure is Milo's father- he has exactly the same colouring. This cat has to be one of the most enormous cats I have ever seen. Comparing Milo with his siblings, he was almost twice their size. So this is going to be one BIG kitty that we'll have on our hands.

It's only once I looked at the photo's I have been taking of him over these past months that I realise now how much he has grown. When he started out his ears looked to big for his face. He is now going through what I hope is just a phase of being really aggressive- attacking people's  feet with no warning. It feels like we are disciplining a two year old.

Anyway, despite his stubbornness and tough-boy persona, I have really grown to love this silly kitty and I hope and pray he will be with us for many years to come. I have posted a whole big bunch of pics of Milo from when I first found him to how he is today.

Hours after I found him- a very scruffy and flea-bitten kitty (not a very flattering picture of my nose!)

He liked to cuddle and go to sleep when in the car

Keeping the kitty in the mirror company

He is alseep here! He fell asleep while licking his butt!!

Loves his favorite toy- a teddy I've had since I was born.

This may look cute but he attacked me seconds after this was taken.

Bedtime

Chewing on my nose

Back from the hospital and very scrawny and skinny, he's made up for it though!

Cats seem to be very specific on how they drink water

Lazy ass

"By standing in front of the computer screen, I'm sure I'll helping Mom study!"

Why are cats so weird?

"I love making a mess and watching Mom clean up YEAH!"

I'm I the only that finds it a little freaky that he insists on watching me bath?

"I've discovered the roof"

"Now if only I can discover how to get down!"

When the pressure cooker explodes



Breakfast at Tiffany's

 Firstly I would really like everyone to take a look at my last post and maybe pass on the message. I would like to see that lovely kitty get a home. If there was a way I could have her shipped to South Africa, I would take her but I know that is impossible.

My half- sister (from my Dad's previous marriage) is in the country and has decided to grace my parents with her presence for two days starting on Easter Sunday. I'm not going to give the gory details other than to say that both my younger sister and I decided several years ago that it would be best if we had no relationship with her. I'm pretty sure she feels the same. We would have left it at that if my mother was not on a eternal quest to bring us together again citing the "forgive and forget" slogan with some pretty disastrous consequences. This woman has treated my mother atrociously in the past and I have to admit finding my Mom's easy forgiveness of her and forgetting all that happened rather disturbing. It's like my Mom is intimidated by her and feels responsible for the rift between her and my Dad which couldn't be farther from the truth.

Anyway enough about that, this week as been stressful enough mostly because of finances, my up coming exams and my grandmother (again a whole other post). And ( Sorry guys! ) it's been that time of the month. I'm on the pill and for the past few months I have been using the pill to stop my monthly "pal" from dropping by. For about eight days around and during my period my antidepressants stop working my anxiety levels shoot through the roof and I become a shouting, screaming, kick- boxing wench and during the rare periods of calm I experience an overwhelming- unable-to-breath sadness. So I have really been using the pill to stop the awful pms-ing.

Well this month I couldn't do that because I didn't have money to get my pill on time. Yesterday I had a counselling session in which we talked a lot about the past, the abuse and how ****ed up my family is, so I was feeling a little emotionally sore. I then had to spend two hours in a hospital waiting room for my grandmother to see the doctor. And of course my grandmother was yelling and talking utter rubbish as she usually does, irritating everyone there. Eventually we were asked to take her outside. During this time I read the story I posted above about the kitty, Precious and it really upset me. So the stage was set for a rather big explosion. And the one who set it off?. My mother.

I have made it clear that I don't want to see my half- sister and have made plans to go and stay with my younger sister when she is here. After seeing the doctor we bundled my grandmother in the car during which my mom told me my half sister would be coming on Sunday. I replied that I would be going to my younger sister. My Mom said then that she had a "simple request". That was the match that lit the dynamite and knowing what she was asking I exploded.

I just started screaming my lungs out!. We were parked in a disabled parking quite close to the hospital entrance and people actually stopped and stared. A group of nurses walking towards us gave the car a wide berth. I was so furious that I kept on shouting all the way to my Aunt's house.

My Mom knows how bad the relationship is between my half- sister and I. What's worse is that I have told her everything that happened but she always forgets and keeps on asking me over and over again. I have given my reasons for not wanting to see  her but she doesn't respect my decision and keeps on nagging and demanding that we become freaking best friends because we are "sisters". Her coming to stay has really been stressing me out this time and my Mom has been more demanding than usual. This all coupled with everything else that was going on yesterday pushed me over the edge.

Today I'm a little worried because that explosion yesterday definitely caused me to take a mental step backwards. I can't describe it, I feel like a switch has flipped and something is different. I was meant to volunteer at the welfare today but this morning I couldn't get out of bed- I had a nightmare about my half- sister  last night. We were all at some big party and I spent the entire time trying to avoid her until eventually she confronted me and was crying and throwing a tantrum. I remember she had awful teeth. Ugh!. I woke up this morning feeling really disturbed and paranoid. I decided I didn't have it in me today to face those awful welfare ladies once again and stayed home. I failed today.

So I have spent most of today in a anxious state of paranoia and feeling angry and hurt at my mother for putting me there. I told my Mom how I was feeling this morning and her response was to pray for me. She's now acting like everything is hunky- dory. She knows that something is terribly wrong unfortunately before she takes action she goes into a state of denial first.

This might make you laugh. The final slap in the face?. My half sister will having a roast lamb dinner with my Mom and Dad. My grandmother's side of the family owns a sheep farm up in the Northern Cape. Every once and a while the send us lamb, very popular in South Africa and Europe and my favorite. They used to send lamb down a lot but after my beloved great uncle died they now only send it down about twice a year. It's way to expensive to buy in the store. We have had this leg of lamb in the freezer and I have literally been waiting with bated breath until we can have a roast lamb dinner. Well guess who is now getting the damn dinner?. Guess who will be sitting in a flat with her sister eating sandwiches?. Uh- huh.

To all my readers in the U.S...

Is anyone willing to give a home to a heartbroken kitty named Precious

Look who's back!

Favorite cuddle toy and blanky

Sleeps with one eye open

Just wants a cuddle



Poor baby's leg- it's been shaved and you can still see the incisions



I brought Milo home last Thursday, he spent nearly three weeks at the animal welfare recovering after surgery to back his leg. We went to fetch him a week ago as planned, but he had "complications" and his leg needed to be re- bandaged. He's is very skinny now and his leg really looks scrawny and pathetic. Apparently the break was so bad they had considered amputating his leg. It looks good but he still has swelling to his joint. Naturally he's still limping and whenever he sits he sit with his leg out straight. If you dare touch his leg or even look like you are thinking about touching it he will go for you.

Don't get me wrong I am extremely grateful to the welfare for taking care of him especially to the woman that paid for his operation (I have to pay her back) but I am also a little suspicious and downright annoyed. Suspicious because Milo had to spend an extra week at the welfare because his hip was apparently dislocated. Both by Dad and I examined Milo closely before we took him to the welfare and nothing appeared to be dislocated. He was also examined by two different vets, had x - rays and the person who operated on him was an orthopedic vet. You would think someone would have noticed a dislocated hip. We believe that Milo was probably injured when they were trying to take his cast off. Apparently he went berserk when they were doing this so it wouldn't surprise me if this happened. The welfare has been really sketchy about everything.

I am annoyed because- despite the welfare being very sketchy about everything- they have treated my Mom and I like dirt. I have come to the conclusion that there really is such a thing as a person that will get on better with animals than with humans. This particular welfare is full of these people. Seriously, they don't even know how to greet people, everyone that has visited that place comes out looking pissed off. I have a feeling the lady that helped us suffered a lot of flak for what she did and it really did feel like they were hell bent on getting their revenge.

I guess though, the only thing that matters is that they do they're jobs and I will say they are very loving and kind to their animals. Yes I am still going to volunteer, I have given my word but I am absolutely dreading it. I haven't been in a  volatile "outside" situation for a while and I feel really vulnerable. I know that I should be used to it from dealing with my Dad on an everyday basis but it's different with strangers.

I am so happy to have Milo home. Right now he's curled up asleep in front of my keyboard. I had gotten so used to having him sleep with me, I was surprised how lonely it was when he was gone. He is exactly the same as he was before except more affectionate, mostly with my Mom. And he's walking and running and back to climbing up trees. Pets can be a real pain in the butt but when they are gone they leave a massive hole.



Milo the trooper! Me the pooper!

I feel like I am over blogging this week but I just wanted to let everyone know that Milo had his surgery this morning and it went very well. He is awake, eating and trying to move around. Unfortunately he has to be kept absolutely still for 7 days in a cage. I have never seen him still for longer than 7 seconds and we don't own a cage so he will have to remain at the welfare for the rest of the week. We live half an hour away from the welfare so I actually haven't seen my baby boy since I brought him in on Saturday and I have this weird fear that he will have forgotten who I am already. I will be seeing him tomorrow though.

I didn't want to go into hospital today until I had heard about Milo and by the time we had, it was really to late to go. This might not have been very wise but I have been steadily losing faith in those people. Despite the tremendous pain I have had since my lumbar puncture/ spinal tap last Wednesday, I have also gone deaf in one ear and become exhausted by doing the simplest of tasks like making lunch!!. What a crime it is for a girl in her mid- twenties...who once lead the high life living in London, very active, social etc to have been reduced to this.  I f**king won't accept this!. What type of a life is this to live?. For those of you that are mothers you can only imagine what it has been like for my mother to watch this happen.

Thank- you again for all your support, it means the world to me :)

Update on my baby Milo: A very weird story

Milo's tail is not broken just very bruised but unfortunately he has suffered a very bad break to his back fema and they will have to do surgery on him tomorrow to insert pins. They say that it is good that he is still very young because his bones are still soft and have better chance of healing normally.

The surgery alone will cost R2500 ( about 360USD ) and they require a 50% deposit before they even do the surgery. Hearing this news yesterday was like a death sentence....until my Mom and I get a job money has been quite tight and we just couldn't come up with that amount especially in such a short space of time so the only other alternative was to put him down which is what my Dad was lobbying for- he said he would not pay for surgery for a cat. My poor Mom burst into tears when I told her the news- she feels so responsible even though it is not her fault. She spent most of yesterday phoning around to all sorts of weird and wonderful places and foundations to see if we could get it done for less but that R2500 is WITH the animal welfare discount.

I became desperate- I was meant to be in bed but landed up laying on the floor next to my Mom as listening as each place she phoned turned us down. I actually felt nothing- something I can maybe contribute to the high dose of antidepressants I'm on, but my pain only got worse as the day wore on. I resolved that I was not going to let my cat die, I gathered up everything I had of value- my camcorder and camera printer my aunt gave me, my guitar I've had since I was a little girl, the gold charm bracelet my mother gave me for my 21st and was going to pawn them first thing this morning. I was even going to steal the 2nd microwave my Mom has. I told my Mom to phone back that bloody woman from animal welfare and tell her I would work for free to pay it off.

My Mom phoned her and spelled it out that we just did not have the money but we were not going to let our baby die so we were planning to pawn things and I would be willing to work for them. The woman did change her tune when she heard I was willing to work but she said it was not them I had to pay it was the vet.

This morning my Mom phoned this same woman back again...I don't know the details of the conversation  but she told my Mom she was willing pay for the surgery herself and we could pay her back. This is the same cow that snapped "This is not a free service" when I first brought Milo in. I don't know what the hell has gotten into her. All she told my Mom is that we didn't look like the sort of people that would "run". So the cow has turned out to be a night in shinning armour.

It gets even more....bizarre. My told her I was serious about volunteering ( I had been planning to even before Milo had his accident). My Mom also told her ( and I HATE it when she does this ) that I had been ill for a very long time. This woman then asked "Is it mental illness?" !!!! (Seriously do I have it tattooed across my forehead?!!). My Mom (bless her) told her I suffered from depression and an anxiety disorder but also the intercranial hypertension. It turns out this woman also suffers from severe depression and panic attacks. Honestly I don't know what to say...right now I am just grateful that my Milo will be okay.

I didn't post this yesterday because I didn't want it to seem like I was asking for money or anything. That is not, never has been nor never will be my intention with this blog. Granted I probably will still have to pawn all that stuff because there will be other expenses besides the surgery. Milo will  have his surgery tomorrow morning, this lady said that he has been in high spirits- eating, drinking and purring so that is a good sign. I will also be going back to hospital tomorrow to sort myself out. It's a holiday today for many countries- it's Human Rights Day here in South Africa. So by the time a lot of you read this Milo will hopefully be on the mend. Thanks to Wendy for the pet pray websites, I plan to put Milo's name on it.

Prayers/ good wishes for Milo...

Holy Mary mother of Jesus this has been one hell of a week and after reading this you will be forgiven for thinking that I shouldn't own a pet on account of bad luck. Milo appears to have broken both his tail and his back paw. There is a bad cell in battery of our car which requires either jump starting the car or pushing it to get it going. Today the car was parked on a slight incline on the in our drive way, I was standing in front of the car and my mom was rolling the car back to get it started when I heard the most awful scream. I looked down at the wheel and all I saw was Milo's tail sticking out from under it. I began yelling at my Mom to move forward. My Mom does not handle situations like this well- she couldn't start the car because it was dead. She went into hysterics, got out the car and started running up and down screaming. I started to manually lift the car up and actually got it a little bit off the ground, but not enough for Milo to get out. Two guys who had been working on the garden came running to the back of the car and started to push it back up the incline, meanwhile my Mom had gotten enough of her senses back to get back in the car and lift the handbrake. Once he was free Milo shot like a bullet into the house, ran up the stairs and into the geyser cupboard in my room with me chasing after him. It took me ten minutes to get him out. We raced him to the animal welfare, where they sedated him and will be keeping him over night until the vet comes tomorrow. These were the same people who gave us hell just because I wanted Milo vaccinated but didn't have the money to do it. And they were as snooty as hell to us this time all because we are not "underprivileged" enough.

This all has been the most horrific shock: Milo's screams and the seeing his little tail sticking out of the wheel will be forever be burned into my memory and the guilt is overwhelming. There were tuffs of his fur lying around the car. Not to mention that I think I did some serious damage to myself by trying to lift the car up and then chasing after him. It's been 3 days since my lumbar puncture/spinal tap and when I woke up this morning I still had the headache and I was deaf in one ear. After this little fiasco the pain has become excruciating...I can't cry, laugh, sneeze with out a horrible white hot thunderbolt shooting through my head. But I think it's probably nothing compared to what my poor little Milo went through.

I will only know tomorrow morning what will happen to Milo. The horrible people at the animal welfare have made it clear that we will cost us....a lot, even though I have told them I am unemployed at the moment. The one woman made a catty remark that "this isn't a free service we are giving". I wonder what they would do to Milo if I said I just couldn't pay...would they hold him ransom? put him down? or just leave him the way he was?. The dumb cow could see how upset I was but she was still being such a bitch.

A very sweet little blessing happened while I was there and this just testifies the unconditional love you can receive from a pet. They had just put Milo into his cage on the floor and I put my fingers in to stroke his head so he could go to sleep. I was crying and was in immense pain when I became aware of someone beside. An old black dog had come to sit beside me, he then put his paw on my knee and lent into me. I put my arm around him and he tried to lick me. We sat there for about five minutes just like that, somewhere in between another cat wandered up and began to rub itself against my knee. I hope those people know what a privilege it is to do what they are doing.

I realise most of you are not of a religious nature... I don't care, whatever your creed please pray for my precious fur ball tonight. If  you are not the praying kind make a wish that he will be better soon. I will be going back to hospital on Monday to find out what the hell is going with me....my baby fur ball and I both in the same boat tonight.

An unexpected addition to the family

Something unexpected occurred this week. My parents rent a house on an apple farm about an hour outside the city. My Mom and I were returning from a funeral and as we turned into the entrance of the farm we saw a black tabby carrying a kitten in her mouth. At first I thought the kitten was dead because she was dragging on the ground. The tabby carried the kitten into the bushes at the base of the damn and sat staring at us. I then saw one of the farm managers was also watching them. When I got out of the car the tabby bolted up the damn wall leaving the kitten in bushes.

I felt so bad for scaring the mother off I got back into the car and meant to drive off, but the farm manager stopped me and said that he had heard I wanted a kitten and this was my chance to get onr for free. I reasoned that it was probably to early to take it from it's mother because she was still carrying it around. The farm manager then told me that if I didn't take the kitten it would be shot- that was their procedure with stray cats and dogs on the farm because they rent out their land to an organic chicken company who houses their chickens on the farm. I was furious and asked him if that was really necessary, couldn't he just round them up and take them to the animal welfare. He laughed and replied that no one had time for that. In the end I got him to reluctantly agree to send any cat or dog to me and I would take them to the welfare.

I got the kitten and after searching for it's mother on the damn for about an hour, eventually took it home. I think it may be a girl I'm not sure. She looks to be just under six weeks She spent all afternoon sleeping on my chest.That night I tried putting her in a basket to sleep but she kept squealing until I put her on my bed. Unless she runs off like her mother it looks as if this kitten will be staying with us.

Back when I had my rabbits the plan was to get a kitten and have the rabbits and the kitten grow up together. After my rabbits ran away I wasn't too keen on getting anything anymore. This baby has literally dropped into my lap. I have to admit it's a little strange. I still miss my little bunnies so much, even now, a month after Buttercup disappeared I still cry when I see reminders that she was here like the spot of paint she managed to bite off my cupboard, or where she slept or the ribbon she chewed on Christmas day. I still haven't forgiven my Dad for what he did, I haven't forgiven myself.

Having this kitten is just weird. She's not my Buttercup and this is going to sound mean, but I just don't feel like bonding with her. I'm taking really good care of her and she has attached herself to me- following me around, climbing into my bed when I am sleeping, chewing on my hair ( do cats even do that?! ). My Dad is not happy either and he has even started with the guilt trip thing AGAIN ("You chased her mother off, that's cruel") But it's not working this time and no one is taking any notice, as the farm manager said, if I hadn't taken her a bullet would have. I am still looking for the mother and the other kittens and I hope I find them before anyone else does, I don't actually trust them to bring any strays to me. I don't how those people can live with themselves.

Anyway here are some pictures of my new furry friend ( unfortunately I only have a Blackberry to take pics with at the moment so they are pretty crappy). I'm not going to name her until I've taken her to the vet to make sure she's healthy.

Spot the kitty!

In the car- those red marks on my neck are from her scratching me!

For the love of a bunny

 In rememberance of my two precious furballs whole gave me so much joy in the short time they were mine:                        


                                     

 Basil at 2 weeks old- I thought he was a girl at first and named him Cornflower!

Wabbits in a box: the day I got Buttercup & Basil

My Mom feeding Buttercup some cabbage

                                       

Buttercup always saw Basil as her own personal cushion, here she has her feet propped up on his back. He never seemed to mind though.

Haha...Basil...such a character!

No, I did give my bunnies wine!, I put them on the table to clean their paws. It's amazing that my Mom allowed them to climb all over her furniture.

Buttercup after the labourer brought her back the first time she went missing, she was covered in dirt and oil. I carried her around all day and she just slept.

Buttercup says "Merry Christmas"

The Bible and the Bunny: I was doing some Bible reading (yes I do do that occasionally!) and I accidently took this picture while playing with my phone. Ironically it's the last picture I took of Buttercup and was taken just hours before she dissappered again:(

Trouble in Rabbit Land

You know I am beginning to think that I am just not meant to have pets. It's not that anything is wrong with the pets. But at the sight of the slightest bit of trouble I panic. I've had these rabbits for three weeks today and it amazes me how much I've grown to love these two balls of fluff. So what's happening now is actually hurting.

When we first got these rabbits, we were told that they were both female (it is extremely hard to tell when they are so young). But when I brought them home, I immediately started to feel suspicious about the one. The other day I decided to check- not really knowing what I was supposed to be seeing. But even to my very inexperienced eye it was clear- Cornflower is a Basil. Yup..."she" is a HE.


Now this presents a HUGE problem...Buttercup, the other one is and always has been female. Ever heard the phrase "They breed like rabbits"?. If the world were ever to come to an end to due nuclear war they say that cockroaches will somehow survive. I am convinced that rabbits will still be here with them after the apocalypse. Rabbits gestation period only lasts 28-30 days and they can get pregnant again just a few days after giving birth. In fact there is just a couple of days a month when females aren't fertile. Now as Basil and Buttercup are actually brother and sister, they should not breed together- due to the risk of birth defects (besides that it's weird). The real kicker? they can start breeding at 10 - 12 weeks old. They are now 8 weeks old.

So the only  choice I have right now is to separate them. This is very hard because they are very attached to each other- one won't go where the other won't go, they are constantly playing and cleaning each other. And they sleep curled up together. But we cannot have a hundred bunnies with possible disabilities running around and I can only get them neutered and spayed in a few months. That alone is stressing me out- rabbits are known to not do so well under anesthetic.

On Friday they somehow got out of their pen in the garden and went off to explore the big wide world. It took my Mom and I and hour to find them ( it's a BIG mountain garden) and another hour to catch them. I eventually got hold of Buttercup but she started to panic and wriggle I caught her leg very roughly and I was terrified that I had either broken or dislocated it ( that can happen very easily with their back legs). When my Mom found us,  I was sitting in the dirt, with bloody scratches all over me, cradling her and crying because I thought I had hurt her. She was fine, but it made me think that maybe I'm to sensitive to have animals.

Anyway I realise that in the grand scheme of things and compared to the huge problems that everyone is facing- compared the huge problems I am facing- this is nothing. But to me this is a huge deal. They are my babies.

Here are some new pictures of my babies: Buttercup and the newly re- gendered Basil:

Buttercup thinks her bro need a good clean

Giving each other  some love

Playing peek-a-boo with my sister

This cabbage leaf was GONE in less than 5 minutes!

This is the pic that made me so suspicious of Basil that I decided to check him. They look like a real Mr and Mrs here. Surprise, surprise.

My baby is on the way & CBT therapy session 1

In about six weeks,I'll be welcoming two new babies into the house. Surprise surprise I'm going to be a mother to two little balls of fluff- one a pale cream colour the other brown- sporting two long ears and a fluffy tale with a serious addiction to hay, carrots and pellets!



My mother saw an advert at the local shopping centre for dwarf rabbits. We went to see them the day before yesterday They were the size of my palm and very tempting to squeeze. I've always wanted a rabbit- my sister and I had bunnies when we were little. That lasted until our landlord's Jack Russell decided to have them for lunch- literally

One of the ideas that has kept up coming in my support group is that owning and loving a pet is very therapeutic for people with mental illness. I'm hoping to add a kitten to my fluffy family (it will learn to love the rabbits!)

On a different note yesterday was my first session of Cognitive behavioral therapy. I think my zombie- like behaviour at home had more of an effect on my mom than I thought- she phoned my support group counsellor who recommended a psychologist specializing in CBT and made an emergency appointment. Only after did she tell my godfather who agreed. I was bit surprised at their efficiency, they are so used to my moods by now that I had thought they might have gotten to the stage when nothing shocks them anymore.

The psyhcologist asked my mother to join us for the first session to shed some light on my childhood history and to teach her relaxation exercises to do with me. I immediately knew this was useless because a) I remember my childhood in most cases better than both my parents- this has been proved time and time again and b) my mom would never have the time or even remember the exercises she was supposed to do with me. So I started off the hour being really irritated at having to deliver yet another monologue about my childhood, teenage years blah blah, while I watched my mom's eyes glaze over at having to sit through the same old story yet again. I don't know if it is essential that a parent or partner be there for the first session but maybe it would be a better idea for the psychologist to schedule a separate appointment to full in the blanks.

The psychologist was a very nice, sweet lady- very positive. I was immediately aware of her enforcing the Cognitive behavioural therapy. She challenged ALL my thinking and took EVERYTHING I said and turned it around into the positive. E.g Me:"I feel like part of me died after my breakdown" (that's the best way I can describe it) Dr: "Do you really think that it is possible for part of you to die?". After describing each traumatic event she would be sympathetic and start rationalizing it. What I've told her is just the tip of a very, very large ice burg- I'm really going to be putting her to work- she ain't seen nothing yet!! :).

The session flew by, generally the sessions are supposed to have a time limit- I would think because it is bloody exhausting. Truly after an hour of her turning around everything I was saying, I was ready to scream, "Just let me feel sorry for myself dammit!" The big emphasis is on SELF- HELP, they give you homework to do!. My homework this week was to go for one walk a day and keep a diary of everything I saw. We have just moved to a house on another farm and- until I discover some more- there are only two walks- each about 5 minutes long. I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to journal about. On my walk today I saw a pigeon...then another one. I suddenly realised that an online author I am following had probably updated her story, so I ran all the way home (it is a VERY good story)...that was my walk.

Tomorrow I have my appointment with the church counsellor, who is praying for healing for me.So right now I'm seeing a state psychiatrist, going to a support group every two weeks, am on medication, seeing a church counsellor and finally have a proper psychologist. I have all the tools I need to help me get better. The rest is up to me.

And that's what I am afraid of. A month ago- even two weeks ago I would have the drive I needed but right now the-the selfish cow that I am- I just don't feel like I have the energy that I need to work towards healing. I was so tired sitting in that psychologist's office. I felt like a hundred years old being forced to walk down the same path again. I have always been eager when starting treatment- thinking that finally this will be a chance to get better. In the end either money would run out or the state health care would mess up putting a stop to all those treatments. It's like I'm cursed. How can I stop feeling this way?

I'm also having to really trust my godfather and my mother- who hold the financial and emotional keys to my treatment. You could say they are the matriarch and patriarch of a messed up family full of needs. As my Dad put it, "The loudest bark gets the most attention". This time it is my bark that got the attention, but there are other people in the family- some of them children- that are in desperate need as well. I feel guilty for the precious kids and angry that I am being lumped together with all the adults in our family who messed up and are now wanting charity.

It's past 2am and I need to attempt to go to sleep. I have no idea who is reading this blog. I know a lot of people aren't right now because I'm not exactly promoting it. But I have found that it is cathartic to write on here. And the possibly that someone may read this is a motivation to write :)