Lizard Season

I will always miss my cat. I wish I had known how little time we had, I would have spent more time with him. A couple hours a day, in retrospect, doesn't seem like enough time.

[sigh] Even coming to terms with my husband's permanent disability (twice) was an easier process. I wonder what that says about my love for them both.

In 2003, I had to come to terms with losing my birth mother, losing my beloved grandmother, nearly losing my husband, major employment changes (laid off), full time caregiver 24/7, health crises, etc. I tended to respond with manias, amping up my energy level and interest in various projects. Those who saw me in 2003 probably remember me crocheting an afghan, for instance. Everyone got an afghan in 2003.

In late 2003, I had to come to terms with the fact that my husband would most likely use a wheelchair, every time he left the house, for the rest of his life. We'd never go hiking again, or walk 12 miles in one day to get out of a flooded area. Last year, I had to come to terms with the fact that, due to the allergic reaction to an antibiotic, I'd never be able to casually pat him on the shoulder or rub his back. The sensation of touch is now painful to him. He spends all his time at home in bed. Walking hurts, he can barely get to the bathroom. All this and a hurricane too. I responded with a moderate depression and then the usual mania.

This year, I lost my precious Frosty. The depression follows me around like a bully, beating me up and stealing my joy. Fun in the garden, forget it! Instead, I find myself castigating myself for turning the hose on Frosty for urinating on my chard. He loved to pee on my plants; empty areas of the garden held no interest. I was always shooting him with the hose and yelling at him for damaging my plants.

My "Husky Red Cherry" for instance, the cat just loved to bury it in mulch. I'd find a few leaves poking out of the mulch, gasping for breath. He dug up my scarlet runner bean seeds and moved them halfway across the garden bed. He urinated on my lemon balm so often it sports permanent brown stains on the leaves (cat urine is very concentrated, and will burn plants).

The day started out well, I had fun planning where to plant the eggplant and peppers. I debated about planting a Mexican Heather, but decided the available space wouldn't work for it. I'd rather allocate more space to a plant than have it miserable and crowded. Crowding plants is a great way to get bugs and disease.

I planted the eggplant and a pepper. I gave treats to delighted neighbor dogs and got "lickings" in return. I did some weeding and mulching. Along came the depression, a tsunami wave of despair. Horrible. As it crashed over me, I fled inside and took a quick-release lithium (most of my medication is slower release, but I need some fast). I'm eating bacon and cheese, a favorite snack and one that "holds" the lithium well.

As I came in, I saw a lizard. I know Frosty knows I miss him, and I think they're his message.

Frosty loved to bring me lizards. I've spent hours scooping up terrified lizards and transporting them outside. He'd drop the lizard proudly at my feet, like a dog, and I'd engage in another round of "reptile roundup" - transporting the poor creature outside. He brought me snakes, too, but they don't bother me.

The weather's warm, it's lizard season, but I've seen an unseasonable amount of lizards in the last few days. They're on the fence. They're in my garden. They're on my posts in the garden, they're on the bars of my door, and they all pause and make sure I notice them. They sit there, watching me with their beady eyes, and move on when I do.

I will always miss my cat, but I'm glad he's in a better place.