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In Which I Stress Over Houses and Cats
On Saturday I put my concerns over the death of democracy to rest as I hiked the hills above Alamo and Danville. The problem's not going away; the delegitimization of our Supreme Court upon the ascension of a rapist and perjurer to its august ranks is going to be a crushing burden on our country for the rest of our lives. But I could at least put it aside. It was done.
But new stressors have just rushed in to fill the void.
And here's the truth: we're entering a stressful time of our life.
First up: the renters in our house in Kauai just gave their 30-day notice, and so my dad and Mary are showing the house. The catch is, of course, our plan to move in 15 months' from now. My folks just started showing the place, but they're seeing that people either want longer-term rentals or else a short-term rental that comes furnished.
My dad and I talked about this some Sunday night, but he didn't seem particularly worried, but then Mary wrote us and she seemed more concerned that they might have to rent the house to someone who wouldn't be ready to move out when we were ready to move in.
She suggested we could move later (not an option; more on which momentarily) or else rent a place in the interim after we arrive. The latter sounded OK to me, and I thought might even give us a chance to experience a different part of Kauai before we settled in to our actual house. But I was quickly disillusioned when I looked at long-term rentals. Some were reasonable but more were expensive, and then when I clicked the button for "allows cats" I found that 95% of the rentals disappeared. So I suddenly had a vision of us having to rent an expensive place because it was the only way we could get our cats settled on the island.
Fortunately, Kimberly ran some interference and we came up with an alternative. Mary and my Dad have another property, in Wailua, and Mary said that she could make that one available for us in January 2020 if our house isn't. I don't understand all the logistics, but problem solved: if I don't have to worry about hunting for a place that accept cats as we're trying to move, then I don't have to worry.
There was a deeper level to these worries that really makes me not want to move later than we'd planned. Oh, you know, there's the fact that we're now at a point where we are definitely making plans that depend on us moving at that point. But, there are two particular stress fractures, and they're once again cats and houses.
Lucy will be just short of 13 when we move, and I've long worried about moving her under any conditions because she's such a small cat that she seems fragile to me. She definitely used to be a real 'fraidy cat, and an airplane is going to be terrifying. I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'd be even more worried if we moved her while she was 14 or 15 or 16.
And, I'm also concerned about the housing market in Berkeley, which has gone soft in the last year. We've probably lost a little value this year, and definitely aren't seeing it heading upward any more. A real crash, like we've had a few times since we've lived here, could dramatically impact on our ability to sell, and I'm worried that's more likely the longer we stay. In fact, I increasingly think we're playing with fire waiting until 2020, but at this point, there's really nothing to be done about that.
So, those were my deeper levels of concern about pushing back a move date. And, as I said, Mary offered a great solution.
So, stress gone, right? Nope.
We took Callisto into the vet on Monday afternoon because when she got her rabies shot two weeks ago, the vet didn't like the look of her teeth. She had a cavity and might need a tooth removed, the vet said.
Well, apparently Callisto has terrible teeth, much worse than you'd expect for her age. Her underbite apparently doesn't help, but for whatever reason they're really bad beyond that. She's apparently been losing and reabsorbing teeth and has a lesion and periodontal disease and a lot more of her teeth are on the way out.
Poor kitty!
So she's going back next week and she's going to have some major surgery and will loose an undetermined number of teeth including her canines.
The dentist seemed good enough, but she also seemed more interested in playing with Callisto. She just kind of hung out with us for a while.
But she generally says no biggie. House cats don't really need their teeth, they're mainly for attacking other cats and killing prey. They can eat wet and dry food alike with no problem even if they're toothless.
And the benefit will of course be that Callisto won't have all these infected gums and hurting tooth and she'll enjoy life more.
But it's stressful sending our baby cat in for major (oral) surgery. And knowing that she'll be recovery for a few weeks and that it'll overlap with Kimberly's own recovery time for her broken foot. (Which means that Lucy and I will be taking care of everyone, and I don't expect Lucy to be much help.)
The other bit of stress: $$$$. Callisto's dental care is extensive enough that it'll be somewhere between a few thousand and several thousand dollars. Yikes! I think that's more than we've spent on all our cats combined, even with Cobweb and Munchkin's ongoing problems late in life.
We can afford it, I just hate to see that amount of money go out the window when I've been working hard to increase our savings lately, so that we won't have to cut as deeply into our funds to pay for the move. And it seems like this sort of thing has been happening all year, between my kidney stone, Kimberly's foot-related costs, and now Callisto's teeth.
But, Callisto has cat insurance, so we'll also hope that they pay for some notable chunk of this. (The admin at the hospital was less than encouraging, saying that our insurance covered "some things" in past cases.)
And the last thing that's been increasing my stress lately? My neighbors, by which I mean our new building neighbors back here in Berkeley, who are out doing construction at the house next door every weekday morning. They started while I was in Toronto, and it's been ongoing ever since.
They regularly wake me 30-60 minutes before my alarm goes off, which means that my sleep has been a mess for about a week and a half now. It's leaving me a bit cranky. They're well into the constructive part of the work, but they work slowly and knock off early, so I foresee at least a few weeks more.
I mean, the work itself is a blessing. A few years ago there was a serious black mold infestation in that house. Then the owners tried not once but twice to do illegal work to knock parts of it down and rebuild it. The end result after they got caught the second time was that pipes and other parts of the house were left lying in the yard and the stucco wall around the balcony was mostly knocked down. It was an eyesore, and I was on the verge of contacting the city to complain, violating the neighborhood compact in a way that I usually try to avoid (but it's obvious the landlord of that house is not actually a neighbor, nor does he care about the neighborhood).
I should really just push my bedtime back so that I'm awake in the morning by the time they start work. Especially since I have a 7am wakeup to take Callisto to the vet next week, then a 5am wakeup to take Kimberly to the hospital the week after. I just hate giving up the hour in the evening, because transferring it to the morning usually turns it into a useless hour rather than an hour where I might get something done.
But new stressors have just rushed in to fill the void.
And here's the truth: we're entering a stressful time of our life.
First up: the renters in our house in Kauai just gave their 30-day notice, and so my dad and Mary are showing the house. The catch is, of course, our plan to move in 15 months' from now. My folks just started showing the place, but they're seeing that people either want longer-term rentals or else a short-term rental that comes furnished.
My dad and I talked about this some Sunday night, but he didn't seem particularly worried, but then Mary wrote us and she seemed more concerned that they might have to rent the house to someone who wouldn't be ready to move out when we were ready to move in.
She suggested we could move later (not an option; more on which momentarily) or else rent a place in the interim after we arrive. The latter sounded OK to me, and I thought might even give us a chance to experience a different part of Kauai before we settled in to our actual house. But I was quickly disillusioned when I looked at long-term rentals. Some were reasonable but more were expensive, and then when I clicked the button for "allows cats" I found that 95% of the rentals disappeared. So I suddenly had a vision of us having to rent an expensive place because it was the only way we could get our cats settled on the island.
Fortunately, Kimberly ran some interference and we came up with an alternative. Mary and my Dad have another property, in Wailua, and Mary said that she could make that one available for us in January 2020 if our house isn't. I don't understand all the logistics, but problem solved: if I don't have to worry about hunting for a place that accept cats as we're trying to move, then I don't have to worry.
There was a deeper level to these worries that really makes me not want to move later than we'd planned. Oh, you know, there's the fact that we're now at a point where we are definitely making plans that depend on us moving at that point. But, there are two particular stress fractures, and they're once again cats and houses.
Lucy will be just short of 13 when we move, and I've long worried about moving her under any conditions because she's such a small cat that she seems fragile to me. She definitely used to be a real 'fraidy cat, and an airplane is going to be terrifying. I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'd be even more worried if we moved her while she was 14 or 15 or 16.
And, I'm also concerned about the housing market in Berkeley, which has gone soft in the last year. We've probably lost a little value this year, and definitely aren't seeing it heading upward any more. A real crash, like we've had a few times since we've lived here, could dramatically impact on our ability to sell, and I'm worried that's more likely the longer we stay. In fact, I increasingly think we're playing with fire waiting until 2020, but at this point, there's really nothing to be done about that.
So, those were my deeper levels of concern about pushing back a move date. And, as I said, Mary offered a great solution.
So, stress gone, right? Nope.
We took Callisto into the vet on Monday afternoon because when she got her rabies shot two weeks ago, the vet didn't like the look of her teeth. She had a cavity and might need a tooth removed, the vet said.
Well, apparently Callisto has terrible teeth, much worse than you'd expect for her age. Her underbite apparently doesn't help, but for whatever reason they're really bad beyond that. She's apparently been losing and reabsorbing teeth and has a lesion and periodontal disease and a lot more of her teeth are on the way out.
Poor kitty!
So she's going back next week and she's going to have some major surgery and will loose an undetermined number of teeth including her canines.
The dentist seemed good enough, but she also seemed more interested in playing with Callisto. She just kind of hung out with us for a while.
But she generally says no biggie. House cats don't really need their teeth, they're mainly for attacking other cats and killing prey. They can eat wet and dry food alike with no problem even if they're toothless.
And the benefit will of course be that Callisto won't have all these infected gums and hurting tooth and she'll enjoy life more.
But it's stressful sending our baby cat in for major (oral) surgery. And knowing that she'll be recovery for a few weeks and that it'll overlap with Kimberly's own recovery time for her broken foot. (Which means that Lucy and I will be taking care of everyone, and I don't expect Lucy to be much help.)
The other bit of stress: $$$$. Callisto's dental care is extensive enough that it'll be somewhere between a few thousand and several thousand dollars. Yikes! I think that's more than we've spent on all our cats combined, even with Cobweb and Munchkin's ongoing problems late in life.
We can afford it, I just hate to see that amount of money go out the window when I've been working hard to increase our savings lately, so that we won't have to cut as deeply into our funds to pay for the move. And it seems like this sort of thing has been happening all year, between my kidney stone, Kimberly's foot-related costs, and now Callisto's teeth.
But, Callisto has cat insurance, so we'll also hope that they pay for some notable chunk of this. (The admin at the hospital was less than encouraging, saying that our insurance covered "some things" in past cases.)
And the last thing that's been increasing my stress lately? My neighbors, by which I mean our new building neighbors back here in Berkeley, who are out doing construction at the house next door every weekday morning. They started while I was in Toronto, and it's been ongoing ever since.
They regularly wake me 30-60 minutes before my alarm goes off, which means that my sleep has been a mess for about a week and a half now. It's leaving me a bit cranky. They're well into the constructive part of the work, but they work slowly and knock off early, so I foresee at least a few weeks more.
I mean, the work itself is a blessing. A few years ago there was a serious black mold infestation in that house. Then the owners tried not once but twice to do illegal work to knock parts of it down and rebuild it. The end result after they got caught the second time was that pipes and other parts of the house were left lying in the yard and the stucco wall around the balcony was mostly knocked down. It was an eyesore, and I was on the verge of contacting the city to complain, violating the neighborhood compact in a way that I usually try to avoid (but it's obvious the landlord of that house is not actually a neighbor, nor does he care about the neighborhood).
I should really just push my bedtime back so that I'm awake in the morning by the time they start work. Especially since I have a 7am wakeup to take Callisto to the vet next week, then a 5am wakeup to take Kimberly to the hospital the week after. I just hate giving up the hour in the evening, because transferring it to the morning usually turns it into a useless hour rather than an hour where I might get something done.