KITTYSTRONG

Last night, I was lying down on my sofa, with one cat, Malka, behind my head, another cat, Motek, in my right arm and a third, Sammy, in my left (that is until he lept out of my arms as captured on my phone by my daughter as he was in mid-flight).

Quite a picture, yes?

I looked up at my father, who had come over for dinner, and said, “Holy shit! I’m the Crazy Cat Lady!” He smirked and glibly said, “You always were,” as he left for his home.

I’m really not, though. I’ve been accused of being one by an ex-boyfriend, but that’s because he didn’t like cats. And being a single woman with cats doesn’t automatically put you into that category. I don’t have ramps and all kinds of weird structures to accommodate the cats in every room. I don’t have kitty houses all over. Yes, I do have 2 kitty litters on each floor of the house, but that’s because when you have four cats, you need to have two.

Yes. Four cats. It’s not what you think.

I have a 15-year old cat named Schmooie (Schmooella Daniella). (No, I didn’t name her “Schmooie,” she came with that name.) She’s a breast cancer survivor – no joke. In 2005, she had a quadruple mastectomy. She was my ex-husband’s cat – we got her when she was 6-months old. Until recently, she would spend 75% of her time outside – it was agony to keep her indoors. Lately, she’s been relatively content being an indoor cat, thank goodness. So she was kind of an absentee cat. So, yes, while I own four cats, I never really considered her ours – she was very much her own cat.

Malka was “gifted” to us a couple of years ago. A former friend, who was a little more than psycho, decided she had to get a kitten to keep her solitary cat and her young son company. I urged her to reconsider, as it seemed to come out of left field, but she insisted. She asked me to accompany her to pick out a kitten as someone who has had cats all her life. I found a kitten in the litter with an amazing personality, with great potential to be a loving lap cat and one that got along with the other kittens. She, however, chose to ignore my recommendations altogether and went for the psycho kitty, who seemed to show great disdain towards all the other cats, and was female. Her logic? This kitten was the only one who didn’t have six toes (which I thought was kind of cool – the entire litter but this one was six-toed). I warned her one last time that I didn’t think this was the best companion kitten, but she didn’t listen.

Sure enough, 48-hours later, she was on my doorstep, handing the kitten to my daughter saying, “Here! Look! It’s a present for you!” and I was stuck with her. Malka was now my daughter’s kitten – and my daughter is the only person whom this cat adores. She despises my son – his mere entrance into a room can cause her to hiss and growl and even attack his ankles.

Motek is the newest addition to the family after Hurricane Sandy. His story, as it was told to us, was that he was abandoned by his former owners and left in the hurricane. When we learned about his plight, and saw his sweet personality, we had to adopt him. Since Malka is my daughter’s cat, Motek became my son’s, though he seems to have claimed my bedroom as his domain.

And that leaves Samson. My Samson. (Well, technically, He’s Samson the II. My grandmother had a pair of cats - Samson & Delilah - Samson being a red tabby, Delilah a grey. Samson I became my cat when she passed away. There was something, when Samson II was a kitten, that was so much like Samson I, that I knew I'd mistakenly call him Samson, so I decided, "The hell with it, I'll just name him Samson II after Samson I.") A little more than a year ago, my big, grey, teddy bear of a cat, Raouw, had to be put down. I was trolling the internet just looking for places in the area from which we could adopt a cat when we were ready. Then, I saw this photo:

What a shayna punim?!

I wasn’t planning on getting a new cat immediately – I wanted time to mourn Raouwsiebear. However, when I saw this face, I was in love. Super Bowl Sunday, we went to a pet shop to meet the woman coordinating the adoptions, and went into the large bathroom with her, the kids and a pet carrier. The minute she opened the carrier doors, this lovely lion of a kitten walked out, with the confidence of someone who just won the Presidential election, and he marched into my lap, purring loudly, and curled up and looked me in the eyes. Within minutes, we were buying him food, a collar and toys.

Why is this relevant?

When people say that I’m a “Crazy Cat Lady,” I know in my heart that I’m not. If anything, I’m a very sane person because of these little four-legged (five-toed) furry family members.

In case you hadn’t seen the reports, the kindness and healing that these purring bundles of joy provide to people is remarkable, so much so that after the Newtown shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School, an organization brought kittens to provide therapy to the children and anyoneneeding support. Cats are the only animal on the planet that have a functionthat is strictly meant to express happiness – purring. And studies show that those with cats tend to have lower levels of stress and fewer heart attacks than those without cats. The act of simply stroking a cats fur has a healing ability.

There is no question, whatsoever, that my ability to recovery from the blow of hearing that I had cancer would not have been handled as well had it not been for the affection of my cats. When I came home from the hospital after my mastectomy, as I’ve described previously, my cat Raouw didn’t leave my side for days – all he did was curl up with me, purr, kiss me, and sleep. Even Malka slept with me. Schmooie would curl up on my pillow behind my head. Collectively, they all cared for me in their own very unique ways.

During chemotherapy, when I felt at my worst, I could tell that Malka sensed something was wrong with me, but she was confused. Raouwsie, however, wouldn’t cease contact with me, going so far as to keep me lying down when I was tempted to get up so I could rest.

Once Raouw was gone, Sammy, in his own clumsy, bad ass way, cared for me. Though he doesn’t have half the patience Raouw had to sleep in my lap, or sit still for long cuddle sessions, he’d pay attention to me, clown around, and keep me entertained. And Sammy still showered me with loud purrs and sloppy kisses when I had various reconstructive surgeries and, when I wasn’t looking, would curl up and sleep next to me so I would wake up with a face full of ginger fur and the soothing vibration of his purr.

I have a second chance. Cancer isn't always as kind.

Some of you know that I had a deadline the other day to meet a $5,000 goal for my LIVESTRONG fundraising. I didn't make that goal. As it prohibited me from being able to fulfill a promise to my daughter, I was pretty disappointed.

On a personal level, and please do not take this the wrong way or as me being ungrateful, it was most disappointing to have worked so hard this year, while fighting cancer actively, running 2 major events that beat last year's numbers, and to have still fallen short. Previous "angel" donors weren't able to give me a boost this year, and I'd made the mistake of thinking that one of my events would have been bigger than expected, and I didn't run with a couple of smaller events.

In the past, I would have beat myself up into a pulp, cried my eyes out, and second-guessed every decision I made that caused me to fail. I'd have then turned my self-loathing into anger and lashed out at every single individual like a petulant child.

You do realize that when I say, "In the past," I'm referring to just over one year ago, right?

Don't I look like myself?

That bratty single child in me is, at this moment, lying face down in her bed, kicking and screaming, tearing at pillows, refusing to come down for dinner and making the lives of all around her a living hell. But she's a much smaller part of me.

Well, maybe not. This goal was a big one. I was resigned to the fact that $25,000 was going to be out of reach and gave in to the $15,000 goal. As time ticked away, and the donations just didn't come in the way that they did last year, I started to panic, but LIVESTRONG set a special incentive at the $5,000 mark that made it "ok" to "settle" for $5,000.

I assumed, making an ass out of you and me, that the money would just come in effortlessly. Until the deadline passed, and I was still short.

Unlike cancer, which rarely gives second chances, LIVESTRONG gave an extension to those of us reaching for the $5,000 mark.

I now have until 5pm Friday, October 5, 2012, to finish raising $5,000.

As of right now, I am $1,500 away from the mark. That seems like a lot, doesn't it? But, here's the way I see it.

I have 1,716 Facebook friends. I have 678 connections on LinkedIn. I have 1,212 Twitter followers. Of course, there is quite a bit of crossover, so let's figure that there are 500 "real" people all told.

If I do the math correctly, if all of the 500 "real" people I presume are, in fact, "real," that means each would only have to donate $3 in the next 24 hours in order to meet the goal.

That's it. It's totally do-able.

So, now, I just have to figure out how to reach those 500 "real" people.

Are you one of the "real" ones?

Why do I support LIVESTRONG? Community

On Sunday, close to 100 people turned up at West Rock Ridge State Park, including racers and spectators, to participate in the ROCK the RIDGE benefiting LIVESTRONG Mountain Bike Race. Folks gathered from Maine to New York to New Jersey and everywhere in between. Of course, many may not have cared less what the cause was, it was merely the series finale of the New England Championship Series for the Eastern Fat Tire Association. But others turned out to show support.

During the racers' meeting, when I reminded folks of the cause and why it was so significant, as we, in EFTA, lost a beloved member to cancer a couple of years ago, there was a tangible shift in mood. Everyone was still excited, but there was a sense of intensity that seemed to hover in the air.

It's not the first time I've experienced that.

When I decided, long before I was diagnosed, that I was going to ride 200 miles to support LIVESTRONG a couple of years ago, I was more excited about the adventure than the cause. That is, until I learned of a couple of friends who were fighting cancer. Then, it hit me, when I found myself struggling, that I was doing this for something greater than me. And, as I rode, and I chit-chatted with other riders along the way in the New York City Century Tour, and told them why I was riding, their smiled turned serious - not angry, not sad, but intense, and we rode a little faster.

Online, on Twitter and Facebook, LIVESTRONG Leaders, registered Team LIVESTRONG members and others in the "community" form a support network. Again, before I was diagnosed, I merely mentioned that I was doing a ride for LIVESTRONG, and all of a sudden, there was a throng of survivors that were connecting with me. I joked that I felt in with the "in" crowd without having cancer. (Oh, the irony.)

But I'd found a community.

When I was diagnosed, I thanked my lucky stars I was already plugged into that community, though, there is no doubt in my mind, that had I come in off the street and asked for membership, I would have been welcomed with open arms. Why? Because I see it done. With everyone that says, "I need help - I have cancer," or, "My dad has cancer," or, "I just lost my cousin to cancer," a note of encouragement is sent by someone at LIVESTRONG, fellow leaders, etc.

So to, on Sunday, at the end of the race, there was a community - even though it was a one-day community, it was there.

There are rare instances in one life where, blindly, you are accepted into a group. And there is no time as important as during a battle with cancer when that is needed.

LIVESTRONG is a global community of caretakers, survivors, supporters and leaders.

To show your support for this community and the cause, please consider a donation to my LIVESTRONG Challenge account: HTTP://LAF.CONVIO.NET/GOTO/RICAROCKSAUSTIN2012

Taking the bull**** by the horns...

Before anyone else asks, makes a snarky comment my way, etc, I'd like to first say before jumping to conclusions, please read Lance Armstrong's statement - not the summaries and editorials being published. Then, I'd suggest that you read the LIVESTRONG Blog Entry, including official statements.

I'll give you a few minutes to read that on your own. Here's some nice elevator music to bide the time.

Now that the interlude is over, and the prerequisite reading is complete, I'll continue.

• The man is the most tested athlete in the history of drug testing. He's passed the tests.
• Several of those on the USADA's public list of witnesses against Lance have lied, have doped, have a vested interest in testifying against Lance and have been threatened with similar actions. Not exactly an unbiased pool of witnesses.
• The arbitration Lance faced was not a court hearing, or anything even close to it. Look at how the USADA handles these arbitrations. There is no defense, as many suspect he would be entitled to present as he would in a criminal case.
• There is debate over whether or not the USADA even has the jurisdiction to execute the ban - how does the UCI factor into this?
• Note Lance's statement, "USADA cannot assert control of a professional international sport and attempt to strip my seven Tour de France titles." Attempt. That doesn't mean it's going to happen. If the USADA "says so," does the UCI have to "do so?" I don't know. Neither do you, at this point.
• All he's saying is that he's done fighting with the USADA. It's like fighting a brick wall. There's no point. It would be a waste of time and resources, etc. That's not an admission of guilt, it's an admission that it's an unjust situation, and that the fight is being set aside. That doesn't mean there isn't something else that can be done.
• He's a father of 5 young children. He's fighting a war against cancer. The man's schedule is insane (I know - I've been privy to some of the events and a view into some of his schedule - it's crazy.) To add on a huge no-win battle against a private entity acting like judge & jury with a predetermined verdict is stupid. So, he's focusing his energy elsewhere... for now.

This is not a man who rolls over easily. This is not a man who "gives up." I doubt this is the last we'll hear about this or from him.

But for now, this is his strategy.

Can you blame him?

So, I will do for Lance what he did for me and my children last year as I faced cancer - stand by him.