I would like to introduce you to Finnegan and Thorin, our two new additions.

After Tater died, I realized that we needed to start at least interviewing breeders for when it was time to get a new kitten. Once you put a deposit on a kitten that's in a litter, you wait for it to be born and then weaned, which can take 12-16 weeks depending on the breeder. We thought that getting kittens around Christmastime would be perfect, since my job has a holiday shutdown.

I contacted Ciandor Cattery about her kittens, and I knew that Meaghan would be the breeder for us. She was friendly, informative, and wants to keep in contact with us over the course of our cats' lives. I liked that. She also had two kittens that would be ready to be adopted. Pete and I thought it over and decided that we should go for it. It might have been a little soon (my heart still hurts and I still break down once in awhile about Tater), but I definitely don't regret adding these two boys to our family.

The boys look alike, but couldn't be more different. Finn is afraid of everything, and Thorin walked right up to the vacuum cleaner when I turned it on. Thorin likes to sleep under the covers by your feet, and Finn likes to sleep in your arms. Finn loves feathers, and Thorin prefers the cat dancer. The list goes on. We're enjoying getting to know the boys, even if it does mean getting woken up at 4 am by Finn because he needs snuggles!
 

Guess who missed a flight for the first time in her life. FOR A WORK TRIP. Ughhhhh. I am so mad at myself right now. I set two alarms. One didn't go off. I slept through the phone one, as well as multiple phone calls from Yolanda. My phone vibrated off the bed. My 22 year old self travelled all over the place with Harcourt, but 26 year old Lindsay can't get out of bed?! WTF is wrong with me!

Now I'm late to Cleveland, the keynote speaker, and I had to get another ticket.

This one goes down as my most unprofessional move ever. Awesome.

You have to figure out what to do with the animal after. Tater's body is still at the vet's office. We bought an urn for her that will go in our someday garden. We had to figure out what to have engraved on it. She's getting privately cremated (if we didn't do that, we would get back the ashes of 50 other animals with hers, and if we're going to do this, that's not what either Pete or I want).  

You have to get a death confirmation from the vet to file with your pet insurance in hopes that they'll pay 70% of the vet bill. We spent about $800 in 24 hours to keep her alive, and it was 100% worth it. Unfortunately it didn't work.

I keep playing last Monday over and over in my head trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Why I didn't take her to the vet on Thursday when I was mad that they didn't take her blood when Pete took her Wednesday. But her blood was fine anyway, even when she was dying. How long was she sick? Why didn't we notice?

 None of the details really even matter now. We keep thinking we hear her in the house. I made a sandwich and she didn't appear. She doesn't watch me get ready. It's hard.

I'm sort of surprised at how hard. I always knew that if anything happened to her it would be bad for me, but I didn't expect this. My heart is bleeding. I can't concentrate at work. I'm not sleeping. My chest is tight and I can't breathe. I just hurt really bad and can't really do anything about it. I know it will get better in time, but it sucks.

One day at a time.

They say memories are golden, well, maybe that is true.
I never wanted memories, I only wanted you.
A million times I cried.
If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.
In life I loved you dearly, in death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place no one else could fill.
If tears could build a stairway and heartache make a lane.
I'd walk the path to Heaven and bring you back again.
-Author Unknown

Tater is dead.

I don’t know what happened.  Half of my heart has left me and I can never get it back.

I could go into details about how it happened, but it was so fast. Her little body couldn’t fight the pneumonia she unexpectedly came down with. 36 hours and she was gone. It was that fast. And I’m so angry at the vets, at the events that lead up to it, but I need to let all that go, and not put it in writing so that I don’t remember it.

All I will say is that it ended with me whispering in her ear, telling her she has been my best friend for the past six years. And then her heart stopped and she was gone. I know that she knew that Pete and I were there, because we gave her permission to go, and she went.

My heart aches. There was a time when Tater was the only thing that dragged me out of bed. Her insistence on being fed and need for snuggles and play time dragged feelings back out of me when nothing else was working. She was an angel and she saved my life. I have thanked God over the last six years for giving her to me.

So why did he take her away? Why was she able to save me, but I couldn’t save her? Why didn’t I see that she was sick?

She was my best friend. We came downstairs together every morning. She greeted me every time I came home. She waited outside the bathroom when I was showering. She wrote countless papers with me in college, moved with me through three apartments, snuggled me through a few bouts of the flu, and four different jobs. She listened to me attentively when I needed to vent, and responded with “Tater hugs”.  Her and Pete loved each other, and the three of us were our own little family. And now the house is empty and quiet, and I don’t hear the brush of her paws on the comforter, coming to sleep on my neck.

She was supposed to live until she was 17. Not 7.

I just can’t believe that this happened.

I can’t believe she’s gone.

 Even looking at it now bothers me!

I took everything out and discovered something fun:

Surprise! Two holes in the wall behind where the mirror was! Definitely patched those.

So I primed and all that fun stuff. I won't show you boring pictures of that. It's the same, but everything is white.

We decided on a blue, and I decided to go ahead and paint the vanity, change the shower curtain, and buy a real garbage can.

Finished product:

I LOVE it. The whole thing looks so much better. We can't afford to offically "redo" the bathroom yet, so this was the next best thing.

Right after I took this picture, Pete came home and helped me hang a sign that said "Bath" and had hooks on it. I hung the towels on the hooks, and it came crashing down, breaking the old ceramic towel rack and the old ceramic toilet paper holder and creating three more holes in the wall! Of course my $50 paint renovation ended up costing a little bit more after that, but I hear that's how those things go!

1. Buy a tablecloth for a table. So glad I did. It was vinyl, but after the party, I wiped off the chocolate and red wine, folded it up, and there was no damage done to our lovely Ikea Bjursta table.
2. Don't make boiled peanuts in a small, badly-ventilated area. Not only did the pot try to explode, our place now smells gross. Like burnt boiled peanuts. Not good.
3. Make drinks with liquor you actually like. Apparently, I do not like Jim Beam, even when it's masked by sweet tea. Now we have a giant bottle of it left. Ew.
4. Recruit friends for help the day of. The Saz came for the weekend, and peeling 250 shrimp would not have been as much fun without her! Cristin came over early and helped set things up. Love my friends!
5. Try the recipes yourself before you make them for a giant crowd. Our beer-broiled shrimp tasted beer-less. I def could have tried that before. Everyone ate them, but I was a little disappointed.
6. Tell people how to eat boiled peanuts. If you don't, people might end up eating the shell and all (ahem...Julie)!
7. It's hard to be the host! I tried to spend time with everyone, and hopefully I did. If I didn't talk to you, I apologize! I meant to, but I'm still getting the hang of this hosting-25-people-at-our-house-thing.
8. One of the best parts of the party is recapping the party after it's over.

Here are a few pics:

Giant mess. Thanks, boiled peanuts.

 Pre-party table.

The Kell(e)y's

A reunited Fantastic Four. Now we've gotta convince one of them to move back!