Kitty Retiree

I judged a Toastmaster’s competition today and did so without Sprite at my side once again. My beloved Service cat has aged, she has begun to fall ill too often to work, and now is a retiree. As of this morning I no longer have a working service animal. Not outside of the house anyway. Sprite will still travel with me if I will be going somewhere over night, but beyond that? I do not feel confident in her ability to perform or to stay healthy. Despite my happy day this is still a moment of sorrow.

She is six years old, and with her history she has worked long for her life. She came from starvation and ill health, therefore I cannot fault her for her body quitting. She was upset I left her this morning, and there were consequences, but there were still good points too. It turned out a service dog who doesn’t behave at all around cats was at the contest today. Sprite’s at least partial retirement saved us from a fiasco.

What does this mean for me now? Well, it means I need to find out if there are any dogs I am not allergic to, I need to consider a horse though I do not think a horse will be compatible with my life style, and I need to start saving up cash so that I can feed another animal. Sprite will no longer need her monthly payments though I think I will continue them, so that she has the benefit of consistency. Perhaps I am wrong and with a bit of extended rest she will resume working. I still need to persue another avenue.

Does anyone have a service poodle? I know I am not allergic to purebred poodles. I had one once upon a time, and depsite his behavior issues I could pet him and brush him all day long, without any problems. No rashes, no boils, and given that the Hidradenitis Supprativa has it’s own sets of issues the last thing I need are more sores and skin problems. I will begin my quest for a service poodle, though this could take years. I feel fear, I feel sorrow, but I am happy for Sprite and William. They will get to play and pounce daily. Sprite also can protect my socks.

That is William’s latest fetish, he has stolen my socks! My Person caught him in the act this morning, and described the act as cartoonish, cute, but ultimately detrimental to my ability to own socks. Sprite can take care of him, she won’t be lonely, and that is important too.

This is my first loss of a service animal, but I am thankfully able to keep her around as a pet. My heart aches, yet she is alive. That is reason enough to celebrate. I do know I cannot handle training my own service animal at this point in time. I am too weak physically to cope with a dog if they misbehave, I cannot afford to introduce another cat into the house at this time as the two we have are bonded and the other cat would cause mayhem.

The ecosystem of my household is balanced, My Person does what he is needed to, we also share our love and intimacy in ways that are unique to each of us, the interactions and feeding schedule with the animals has it’s own balance, as do our activities out of the home. The balance must shift, but, to add stress to the lives of my animals adds stress to me. A dog will be stress yet a cat moreso.

My one regret with sprite retiring is selfish. I regret that she cannot be with me to tell me when my body is going to fail. I regret that she cannot remind me to take my medication, she is my caregiver. I must adapt, yet I feel that same fear that I felt when I started training her. What do I do now? How do I grow? How do I continue living?

I do not have the exact answers but this is another learning point. I have no choice but to go forward. I choose life over stagnancy. I will adapt. I will find a way to thrive, i will find a way to live. Sprite will have a longer life if I respect her medial needs, and I cannot be cruel to her. I love her too much to force her to risk her safety.

Ability and the Computer

My eyes are crapping out. I have a hole in the retina of one eye and neither can focus on anything near or far. I haven’t been able to read paper without great pain, and sometimes not at all, for over a year. Last time I saw an eye doctor she sent me to a specialist who ignored me, hurt me, and told me nothing was wrong and to ignore my degeneration.

The computer is a bastion of information for me. I have not seen the TV in a long time. When I really like a show I will risk the headache from eyestrain. Usually, it isn’t worth it. Even the computer is starting to fail me. Thanks to William Shakespurr, who turned out to be a Special Needs Kitty, I discovered a new command on my keyboard. I am sure everyone else knew about this but, hitting control and moving the mouse scroll button (that wheely thing in the middle) changes the text size in Firefox. Sweet heaven! I can actually SEE what I want to see. Not only does this magnify the text, without the annoying magnifier that Windows has Built In, but it magnifies the images too. Often without over pixelization, unlike the Magnifier.

If only I could do this to my TV. I am wanting to save for a huuuuge HD screen but, that is unreasonable at this time. My Person and I discussed it, yet with the economy he is having trouble finding a second job. My income does ascertain the rent but it is still $20 short. Without his work we do not eat. Without his work we do not have shelter. I hate SSI. They tell me I should be able to live just fine on it, but I do not.

My computer has helped me discover things such as, I should have a regular old wheelchair. Electric in my case is regular and old fashioned. I do not like the way scooters work. They are not really the proper adaptation for me. I may have to wait five years to get a proper wheelchair. The scooter turned out to be a good stepping stone.

I only discovered the notion of wheels on my butt when my friend came to town and brought his recently deceased mother’s manual chair and insisted we use it so that I could keep up. I actually did things four days in a row! Sure, I could not push myself, I tried and dislocated both shoulders. I had to be pushed and hated that, but I loved being conscious of my surroundings.

I even had enough mind power to rebudget my cash so I could buy a sword cane. That wasn’t quite enough to win me over. What happened next was a camping event with the SCA. There was no way up the hill to the camp where my friends were, I had to choose between volunteering at the event and actually seeing people I missed. I had to keep my word, and therefore I was stuck working. It was exhausting and I kept wishing for a way up the hill.

Another visit from a friend and we rented a wheelchair, also manual. I never considered the option of a scooter. This one was less comfortable, broke when too much pressure was put on the handles, because of a lack of a curbcut, but, I ran into that energy thing again.

My doctor looked surprised when I broached the topic. It took me almost another year before I had the guts, but I was dragging and my best memories in recent years consisted of rolling. I no longer shopped in stores that did not offer me an electric scooter, and I was missing out. I never did anything. Part of the challenges that would follow retained that sort of reality for me for a long time but I got my scooter. I was allowed to choose my model, and after a month of research on the computer I chose my Legend XL.

Now I miss it, and the computer helped me discover I am not the only one who has had a defective tool. I am working on finding the courage to ask for legislation mandating a quality level in assistive devices. Most are ugly, and most break fast. They are also over priced. Government regulation could make it where insurance isn’t needed for a simple bath chair. They denied me mine, a friend bought it so I could bathe.

I am free of misery now that my quality of life has increased, yet I am finding the loaner scooter painful. It hurts my body often, and has helped me seet he flaws in my legend. It will always be wanted, and if we can repair it the Legend will become a camping Scooter once I get my regular chair but I cannot handle the jerking of the tiller. Often it is torn out of my hands, or my back hurts from leaning forward to reach the supposedly adjustable tiller. It isn’t without great force applied. I do not have great force. The loaner does the jerking thing too, nearly breaking my thumb once. It also doesn’t handle little things like pebbles or cracks in the sidewalk well at all. The seat is the one off of my own scooter, required medically to be transferred. The little loaner scooter also fails to start on cold mornings. I miss my early morning events. I miss doing things because Loaner doesn’t hold a good charge. It almost died during a Toastmasters meeting between the lectern and my spot. Five whole feet.

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