This was what I wrote last night. This morning, however, he'd improved significantly and was eating. He's still low-energy, but thank God I didn't have to make the decision yet. I'll take all the time I can get.

Right now, it is Wednesday morning at work, just after midnight on May 3rd. I’m writing this now, has I’ve done in the past, because I don’t know what state I’ll be in if and when I make the decision.
Back in March of 2008, I lost Luna. It was a devastating loss. Those words don’t even come close to what I felt then. Though is was probably too soon, in May, on my birthday, my friends took me to the Golden Valley Humane Society, where I’d originally gotten her, to ‘window shop’ as it were. I’d decided to get two cats, as I’d heard that it was better for them psychologically, but that day I wasn’t actually expecting to get new pets.
While there, I nearly broke down several times- remembering. But I looked, and saw a kitten in a small boxlike case, by himself. He was very tiny, and I wasn’t wanting to deal with a kitten, nor did I want a male cat- more health problems, etcetera.
But then, he locked eyes with me and said ‘mew!’ And it was all over.
The second cat was Lady. She passed away in 2018, at 18 years of age. I got her when she was 8. Spaz was all of 10 weeks old- he and his siblings had been put in a box and tossed out the window of a car. So that’s how I got Spaz and Lady.
Now… Spaz has been having health problems. He had stage one kidney failure for about two years. When I took him in to the vet in February, I found out that it’d advanced to stage 4. That is a termainal diagnosis, with only palliative care to extend life. I thought I was going to lose him in days, but he rallied, and he continued being mostly his old self.
Monday the first I took him in for his yearly shots, senior assay and other tests… And his numbers had worsened. As in doubled-worsened. To complicate things, the vet had me give him gabapentin as a relaxant, so that he’d not be so stressed at the visit.
The visit went fine, but the next day, Tuesday, he was still almost unable to walk, not eating significantly and weak. I called the vet and described what was happening, and that’s when I found out how things had progressed. His lassitude and weakness were due to his kidneys essentially being completely gone, and he couldn’t clear the drug out of his system.
I decided to see how he was in the evening, as he’d eaten a bit, and drank some water. However… There was no real change. He was slightly more active, but not by much. I held him in my arms and he was basically limp. When not being held, he either hid in his carrier, or just sat, staring at it.
Now I have a decision to make. If he’s better in the morning, I can put it off a while, but… The end is near. I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want to put him through what would be required to keep him going, especially since it would add to his misery.
I don’t want to say goodbye, but in all odds, I will be. Either in the morning, or very soon. I love you Spaz. I’ve had you for fourteen years, and you’ve been a wonderful friend. I will do what I truly hope is best for you, and I hope you can forgive me.

... Since I last posted. A lot has happened, good and bad. To start off, I haven't mentioned this elsewhere, but my Dad had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years back. They'd initially told him that he'd probably pass from old age long before the cancer became an issue. They were wrong on that.
The cancer metastized, moving into his arm, liver and elsewhere. It was about a yearlong slide, and he passed away on July 19, 2021, at about 5 PM. I got there minutes after he'd gone. It's all over, the grieving mostly done, and life has continued. I miss him, but I was ready for it, so it didn't hit me nearly as hard as it did mom and my brother. And that's the worst of what's gone on in the last year.
Now for more stupid stuff. After he passed, my parent's neighbors across the back yard, the Holcolmbs, were having issues of their own. Jan's knee was in desperate need of surgery, and Dean was in and out of psychological care. Their daughter came out to visit, saw the situation and determined that she was going to move them out to Oregon with her, so she could help.
You might be wondering how this impacts me- well, in two ways. First, Mom and Paul (my brother) volunteered to help clean out their house after they moved, and assist in the sale. This... Was likely a mistake. I won't go into details, but it was a hellscape of labor and surprises. Regardless, they got through it, and Jan offered them her car as partial repayment for the assistance.
My mom and brother being who they are, they refused and outright gift, and paid about $5000 for it, roughly half the blue book value. A good deal, right? Riiiiight. There were problems from the start, which I'll not get into, but the long and short was that it took from August of 2021 to April of 2022 to get the damn thing running.
Originally, the plan had been that I would receive Dad's old car after he passed; that changed when Paul's minivan crapped out completely. I'll note here, I have NO problem with this. He has busted his ass to help both my parents and me over the years, and he deserves whatever benefits come his way. The plan changed to me getting the Holcolmb's car. This was fine, til my old Beast, a 2001 LeSaber, started having more and more problems. For the last two weeks I've been using Dad's car, and Paul has been sharing vehicles with mom and Maggie, his daughter.
However, that's all done, finally. As of yesterday, I have my 'new' car- a 2014 Buick Lacrosse. It has a rebuilt engine (turns out all the problems stemmed from a cracked block- ouch), and so has 72,000 miles on the body, and about 60 miles on the engine. So, woot.
That's all the big stuff. I'm healthy, well-wheeled, and employed. The tabletop games I'm in go well, and I'm making a vague effort to eat at least a little bit better. Spaz is fine, still has kidney problems but is mostly healthy otherwise. He has bad teeth, not uncommon for his age, and will be going in for a cleaning (and probably one extraction) in 10 days.

So, that's the update. Maybe I'll post more frequently... But probably not.

I am writing most of this on the morning of Wednesday, December 12, 2018. The reason I’m writing it now, is because I don’t know that I’ll be able to write coherently after Thursday. What this is for, is to let all of you know what’s going on. Some of you, Dave and Lou in particular, already know. Lady will be going to the vet for the final time at 11 AM on Thursday the 13th.
I’m not handling this as well as I’d hoped. I’m not as shattered as I was when Luna passed, but that was a different situation and a different time. I was, to some extent, prepared for Lady to pass, as she was 8 years old when I got her. I thought I’d be able to handle it better than I am.
She will be cremated, and her remains returned to me, as were Luna’s. I’ve had her for ten wonderful years, and I am going to miss her terribly. I still have Spaz, thank God, but they are each their own kind of miracle.
Mom and Dad will be helping me- they’ll pick us up, drive us to the vet, and take me home after; I won’t be in any condition to drive, if the last few days are any indication. More than once I’ve broken down; it’s the worst whenever I try to talk about it, or think about it in too much detail. I don’t know what state I’ll be in over the next few days, but please bear with me.

--<>--

On May 24th of 2008, we (Me, Dave, Mike, Anna and Lou) went to the Golden Valley Humane Society. The plan was to look at cats; I’d lost Luna that March. Perhaps it was too soon, because it was still very raw. Mike and Dave had offered to cover the expenses for me. When we got there, a lump formed in my throat and never left the entire time we were there. I nearly broke down several times as well. I’d gotten Luna there, way back in 1992.
We went in and started looking. There were a lot of animals there, and I knew I wanted to get two; cats do better when not alone, or so I’ve been told. I saw a little black kitten, all by himself in a tank-like enclosure; I wasn’t planning on getting a male cat, as they tend to have more health problems than females and also tend to not live as long. However, he locked eyes with me and ‘meewed’ at me, and it was all over. That was Spaz, originally named Raz. He was ten weeks old then, and just getting over kennel cough.
So, as I’d found one, the search for the second began. I decided that the communal rooms were the best bet, as that was where the socialized cats were placed. There were a lot, as well as a lot of people looking for pets of their own. However, I noticed something. There was one cat that hid. She’d be revealed, then immediately dig herself back beneath the blankets they had in the room. I asked about her, and was told she’d been there for some time, and that she’d been surrendered by a couple; the cat had been their daughter’s, and they couldn’t be bothered to take care of the cat while she was off at college. That was Lady, then named Mittens. She was eight years old, and close to the deadline for adoption; GVHS wasn’t ‘no kill’ back then.
So, I chose her. It took a long time for her to adjust, but eventually she settled in. She handled two moves after that, when I sold my house, and when I moved from my New Brighton apartment to Dave’s place in Columbia Heights. She’s been a blessing on my life, and I dearly hope I’ve been such to her.
Now, however, she’s eighteen and a half years old. She has high blood pressure, stage 2 kidney failure and hyperthyroidism. She stopped eating on the weekend, and I know, and I believe she knows, it’s the end. So, when I took Spaz in to the vet for his post-op checkup (he had some teeth pulled), I made the decision. Her future if I try to prolong her life is going to be more and more drugs, probably daily saline injections and similar discomfort, and it won’t ever get better. It’s time. I don’t want it to be, I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t keep doing this to her, either.
All I can hope is that she’ll forgive me.

Lady Heinsohn
Born sometime in 2000, Died December 13, 2018 at 11:15 AM.

Today is the usual run for our biweekly campaign, currently Sylvan's Skylands campaign.What's unusual is that instead of starting at noon, we're starting around 5 PM. It'll thus be a 'short' run, but I get to get some sleep beforehand! Woo! Also, we're having tacos for dinner, so I'm bringing the lettuce, diced tomatoes and sour cream. As snacky-stuff, I'm bringing canteloupe (cut into bites) and watermelon.

Looking forward to it, and now to bed. :)

Not that I'll be likely to be posting more here than I was there, I'm newly arrived from Livejournal, which I'm dropping like a hot piece of Krypronite due to their bullshit anti-LGBT attitudes and disturbing ownership. I'll be here from now on, and my livejournal will be deleted as soon as everything has finished transferring across.

So hello and all that!

Happy-joy, another night terror. THey’re pretty passe to me these days, and I can usually go right back to sleep. Usually after muttering ‘Oh, goddamn it...’

Anyway, this one stood out because a) I remembered it, and b) it was a pretty traditional ‘abduction’ night terror, which I used to have as a kid but never have now.


I was in my car, driving at night. The roads were long and curving, the scenery was farm fields and light wooded areas. As I was driving, I think I heard a radio playing some kind of news station, but it was indistinct.


I caught a glimpse of two figures on the side of the road, who looked to be talking. In the dream I dismissed it- two guys talking isn’t weird. But I distinctly recall that they seemed to be lit by their own light (i.e. they were glowing).


As I continued to drive, I continued to see glowing humanoids, usually at the side of the road, always singular. They drew my attention so much I was swerving, and I had to fight to keep on the road.

Finally, one of them was RIGHT IN THE ROAD, and I hit him. I distinctly recall the sound of the impact (a dull thud and the sound of the body going over the car), and I woke up. I could have gone back to sleep, but I think the headache I also had developed helped wake me. Besides, it was close to the usual time I get up.

The figures, by the way, looked like a cross between tall humans and the traditional ‘grey’ aliens famed in abduction scenerios. If you think you’ve been abducted, it is usually ‘just’ a night terror of this type. The appearance of the Greys is a construct of the brain based on how the brain sorts sensory input, hence slender body, prominent head, eyes and hands.

Really kinda getting sick of these.

Yup, still alive. I don't pop in here as much as I used to (mostly on Google+ and Teleghram chat and such), but I'm still here and still writing. Well, TRYING to write. I managed to finish two of the bugaboo stories, but I'm still hung up on how to get to my desired ending in 'Faces', and I need to get back to working on 'Wolf's Clothing' so I can start constructing the novel from it.

Yep, planning to try writing a novel! My last attempt was a noir-horror thing starring my old detective character Michael Woodstock, and that faceplanted REAL HARD in the last NaNoWrimo I participated in. I may ressurect that someday, as I think some of the ideas are usable.

The longest thing I've ever written story-wise was about 57,000 words. It was 'Bear False Witness' during the FIRST NaNoWrimo I participated in. I may use stuff from it in the future, but it was pretty terrible in my opinion.

I think I may really have something with 'Wolf's Clothing' though, and hopefully I'll follow through. My New Year's resolution was to get stories in the pipe to be published- i.e. submitted for publication this year. I WILL do this!

And another screwball night terror. I was woken up today about noon by building maintenance coming to fix and outlet in the roomie's room. I'd called it in, so that wasn't a big deal, but I couldn't get back to sleep after. So I got up for a while, watched an art stream that had to abort due to a pet-emergency, and played some Diablo III. With food and a beer, I finally felt like I could sleep at about 3 pm, and crashed.

I slept til about 9 PM, so that was good.

What was NOT good was waking up screaming. I really, really hate that, especially since as soon as I was awake, the fear was utterly, totally gone, replaced with annoyance and a mild headache.

The was particularly odd in that it guest-starred an artist friend of mine (Haligren/Teknicolortiger) and her character in the Silver & Bonr RP group, Hayden. It also guest starred, in a bizarre side-plot, a hockey team that looked suspiciously like the old Minnesota North Stars.

In the dream, she and I were talking about Hayden wanting to kill himself for whatever reason, and for some reason I proposed Vasily (my beefy Russian ex-Vory werewolf) helping. When the agreement was in-character struck, Vas didn't give him a chance to think, and shot 'em in the head with a silver bullet, then decapitated him.

THAT wasn't the scary part.

The scary part (and all of this was weirdly mixed in with some kind of heroic 'last miracle shot' hockey story), was for some reason I was at my folks, sleeping, and something horrible was crawling up my sleeping body, and it was /hungry/.

I have fucking weird dreams. I have no idea where the stu[id hockey subplot came from, and I still can't really sort if I was the 'hero' in that bit, or if for some screwy reason it was Hayden.

Hayden, fyi, is a serial-killer werewolf, an NPC Elder of one of the clans, and the LEAST likely person I can imagine getting into a hockey game. :P

Back from the vet- Lady has lost weight (I kinda suspected that she had) and she got a blood workup to check her kidney function and such- at 14, she's not a young cat. I'll get the results of that on Monday. She seems healthy though, so I'm not concerned. Like as not she'll be going on a senior diet, which means so will Spaz, as he eats everything.

Speaking of Spaz, he got X-rays and was NOT HAPPY at the Vet. Usually it's lady that's losing it. This time, he was really hissing and fighting. Well, until they dosed him for the X-rays. Then he was (and still is) really mellow. He's in my room, still in the carrier, being zonked. He got some painkillers as well, so he's gonna be relaxing a while.

The total bill was pretty hefty- Over $600. If people want to help, I won't say no to it- my paypal is shaggy (at) visi (dot) com. Don't feel obligated, but any help I'd be grateful for.

I've started my research on getting short stories published. I've discovered a few things that are important, and which will be disheartening to some of my friends who also write, the most important of which is that putting a manuscript of any kind on the web in a public format constitutes publication in the eyes of most publishers.

What this means is that in general if a story has appeared on a personal website or on a publicly accessible website, that story HAS BEEN PUBLISHED. Most will not take such a manuscript for publication.

There ARE still options to get the tale into print. Self-publication is one avenue, and publishers MAY still consider your work even if previously published online. But it becomes an uphill battle. I've about 20 or so short stories that are now essentially invalid for publication, which is annoying but hardly the end of the world.

I suspect that if a work is sufficiently changed from a previously-published version on the web, that it MIGHT be applicable for consideration; if your manuscript is not in final form, you may still have a shot.

I have three stories I'm considering for publication. One of them, titled 'Monsters' is in the 'really, really iffy' category. I CAN submit it for publication in a different format, so I can still offer it to a podcast (audio format) or a visual format such as an illustrated comic. I'm going to have to look into things more- there may be publishers who WILL take such 'published' works regardless, considering the limited audience the tales have so far reached.

To my writer friends- this is NOT the end of the world. Your works are still able to be gotten into dead-tree format. You just have altered avenues, and will have to do your research.

For my part, any fiction I plan to publish will no longer appear on FurAffinity, DeviantArt or any of the other 'public' venues that I've put things up on in the past. I seriously do wish to be a writer, so I have to keep these considerations in mind.

Oh, last thing. I'd hoped to offer a story I'm currently working on, 'The Old House', to Reader's Digest. Weirdly enough, they really don't solicit for or accept original fiction! O well. There are lots of places who do. :)