Kitty Police, Potato Thief

Have no fear, Detective Simba is on the job.  We have many nicknames for Simba in the Harrington household.  Among them is the well-deserved moniker of "Kitty Police." 

Over the years she has become the self-appointed House Tattletale.  Elwood's on the kitchen counter?  My little Kitty Police will let out two or three sharp "bossy barks" to let me know.  Poor cat can't get away with anything.  Sometimes his big sister's powers of detection work in his favor, though.  Sister Belle using Elwood as a chew toy?  Simba the Snitch will set up another round of barking.  Seldom are her siblings off the doggie detective's radar.

What many are not aware of, though, is that Simba has another, darker side.  Mild-mannered Kitty Police by day, Potato Thief by night.  I just about fell over from laughing so hard by what I saw when I went to investigate the sound of rustling in the kitchen the other day.  Surprised I had not heard any alert from Simba, I left my work and headed for the kitchen fully expecting to find Elwood had gotten into something on the counter.  Imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner to see Simba in the middle of the floor happily munching away on ... a raw potato.  Torn-open bag of potatoes next to her, she just looked up at me as if to say, "Thanks for leaving this bag of potatoes on the floor for me, Mom."  I have no idea how many potatoes she consumed before I got there.  I'm betting it was at least two. 

Another name we have for Simba is "Miss Piggy."  She will eat almost anything, even peas.  Instead of biscuits, our dogs usually get raw carrots or apples as treats.  I have been known to throw her a piece of raw potato once in awhile when I am cooking, so I guess it should have come as no surprise that she would think of the bag of potatoes as doggie treats.

All I can say is the Harrington Household sleeps soundly at night knowing that Detective Simba, Kitty Police is on the job and will leave no potato unturned in her quest for a safe home, justice and ... a quick snack.

Giving Thanks

First off, my thanks to our friend, Linda Horner, for the photo you see.  I love it.  I captures so much of who Simba is and where she's at at this point in her life.

I was awakened at 4:30 the morning after Thanksgiving by heavy panting.  I turned on the light to find Simba shaking uncontrollably and panting in what was obvious distress.  She was unresponsive when I spoke her name, and it was difficult to get her to move her head to look at me.  When I did, her eyes were far away.  Having had two other dogs who experienced seizures, it was a familiar and frightening sight.  I spoke softly to her, petting her, and finally she tried to stand.  She made it about halfway and was stuck, legs splayed in a halfway-up squat, still rigid, shaking and panting.  Bit by bit she came out of it enough to finally stand.  I helped her out to see if some fresh air would help.  All she did was walk around me in a circle on her leash.  I finally helped her back into the house.  She was still having difficulty walking and needed guidance and support.  She balked at going through any doorway as if afraid.

We were away from home, having gone to Bennington to spend Thanksgiving with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law.  Bit by bit, she seemed to pull out of it, so I guided her to the living room and lifted her onto the sofa and sat down next to her, waiting for morning.  I didn't want to risk going back to sleep and missing another episode if it happened.  Thankfully, she slowly came out of it, and by morning was her usual exuberant, if arthritic, self.  We left around 8:30 for home, where I called the vet.  He was off for the weekend, but I had the emergency vet number just in case.  Since she seemed stable and fairly normal, I opted to keep an eye on her and left left a message for the vet to call me that Monday, which he did.

Bottom line was as I suspected.  It sounded like a seizure, but any tests at that point would most likely come back normal, and even if they didn't, we probably could not treat whatever was causing them because of her age.  He gave me instructions to call him if it happened again, and what to do if it was protracted.

I have noticed lately that my sweet Simba is stumbling a lot more than she used to.  I think something neurological is probably going on and I feel helpless.  But I have decided that to spend the time I have left with her grieving before she is even gone is not only useless, but an injustice to Simba.  She IS alive, and she is HERE right now.  NOW is what I need to enjoy and savor.  I'm making as many memories with her as I can, so I will have those to comfort me when she no longer can.

In other words, I am going forward with the Spirit of Thanksgiving in my heart, grateful to have such an exceptional soul in my life as my Sweet Simba.

Little Girl, Old Lady, Simbalina, Heart of my Hearts... Thank you for being in my life.  I love you, and you make me smile.