A week ago Nala and I went to an interview at an agency that could potentially become my field placement in January. I had initially been upset about the suggestion of interviewing there because I felt like the only reason it was being given to me was because it was a place that works with disabled people. But, I got over myself and decided that I needed interviewing practice anyway and that maybe it would be more than I thought. I'm glad I pulled my head out of my butt long enough to realize that this was a learning opportunity because it went well.
I took a door to door transport service because I didn't know how to get to the placement. I didn't want to spend time getting lost or being stressed out about being lost right before the interview. The service is a service that runs throughout the entire county and is designed for people with disabilities and seniors. When i had first booked my ride the time I had wanted wasn't available and I was concerned that I would arrive much too early. However, things worked out the way they are supposed to because the driver couldn't find my place for over 15 minutes. So, by the time he picked me up and drove me to the placement, I was early, but not overly so..
I probably don't have to tell you about how much of a super star Nala was because she's always amazing, but I'm going to anyway.
She took me right up tot he open bus door and found me a seat. She kept her nose to herself and rode nicely. We were the only ones riding, but the driver still commented on her calmness and professionalism. When we arrived the driver insisted on getting us to the door and although I conceded I asked him to walk behind us. I wanted Nala to do the work of finding the stairs and the door. I didn't want to refuse his offer of help completely because I was in a strange place and also because one day I may need his help, or someone else may, and he might not be as open to assisting someone if I were to tell him to go away.
Upon entering the building I was greeted by the receptionist, who I found out later is a volunteer. All of the receptionists are volunteers and work a four hour shift. He showed me to the waiting room and I had Nala follow him. She did try to get past him at one point because Nala must always be out front, but she fell back behind him when I told her to steady. She foundme a chair and we settled in to wait for my potential field supervisor. We didn't have long to wait.
We introduced ourselves when she arrived a few minutes later and moved off into a room that was off of the waiting room. She said it was the kitchen. We talked for probably two hours. Needless to say, the interview went well and she offered me the position even before I left. I took the position. That said, there were two turning points int hat interview that I think need to be noted..
The first was when I asked her about whether or not her organization had a program designed to help disabled people become physically active. She said no, but that if I wanted to I could put together a proposal and we could potentially run a pilot project to see how something would do in this area. That sold me.
The other point was when she asked me about my experience with Leader Dogs for the Blind prison puppy raising program. It was my opportunity to explain to someone how meeting the inside puppy raisers and being involved in a small way in that program is what finally gave me the push to become a social worker. I had always known "the system," whatever system it may be, was broken and that it needed to change. I knew I wanted to be a part of that change, but I didn't know how. But seeing what the guys were doing made me want to be a part of that. I'm not articulating it well now which I don't think I articulated it well in the interview either. It was such a powerful experience for me that it's hard to explain without sounding cliche or cheesy.
I just have this to say: if any of the guys still read this blog, or their family members, please know that you efforts have completely changed my life course. I am forever grateful that I was allowed to come in and meet all of you and I'm only sorry that I never got to tell you properly. The Leader Dogs puppy raising program has far reaching consequences...positive ones...and I'm hoping that when I graduate I'm able to be a part of the process that implements or at the very least keeps these types of programs going. Thanks guys. You have taught me a lot.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
(Sometimes) Ignorance is Bliss
I feel like I've written something like this before. Maybe I have or maybe I just thought I did, but either way it's obviously an important topic to me if I have actually written or have just dreamed about writing about wishing that sometimes I didn't know.
What is this little nugget of knowledge that is bothering me?
Dog nutrition.
This evening, as a break from writing one of my numerous papers, I decided to go on to Amazon and just browse the plethora of dog treats available for purchase. I used to do this from time to time, but I haven't done it in a while. So, off I went. I guess for me it's a way to window shop independently. If I take most people into pet shops with me they want to get in and out and they certainly don't want to go through the insane amounts of dog products available.
Who can blame them?
Think about just how much is piled on to one shelf in just the toy section or the treat section.
However, if I don't browse how do I find out what's out there?
Some things I learn about from friends or by reading doggie articles and sometimes someone will be brave enough to go into a pet store with me, but most often I figure things out by seeing them listed on a site like Amazon. If I think the title looks interesting then I go and look the product up on its company's site-reading the ingredients, of course.
Here's where the "ignorance is bliss" part comes in.
If you read the names of the products they sound great, right?
Words like "natural," "baked," "organic,"" "grain free," Etc make the majority of those treats sound fantastic. One treat in particular caught my attention because it claimed to be an ever lasting chew treat that was grain free. Since I thought it sounded good I took a closer look and immediately scratched it off my list. Right after the "ever lasting" part and the "minimal ingredients" part it said chicken "flavored."
Chicken = good
Chicken FLAVORED = not so good.
Have you ever seen those people snacks in stores that read "butter flavoring" only to find out that when you read the ingredients there isn't any butter in it at all? Same thing applies here.
Quite often if the label reads "flavored" anything, whether it's duck/salmon/chicken/bison/kangaroo, it means that that meat isn't actually in that treat. And if it is, it's way down on the ingredients list. Other yummy things like sodium (AKA salt) and stuff are used to make that tasty chicken flavor.
I was disappointed. A pack of two was only 3 bucks. If they had been truly ever lasting and contained good ingredients, like chicken as it pretended to have, that treat would have been great. If I hadn't taken it upon myself to know what I was putting into my dogs, so many types of treats would be available to us at an affordable price. However, dog nutrition, and nutrition in general, is an interest of mine and we all know what I do with things that are of interest to me...
research it to death.
All of the treats that I would have been comfortable with getting for my dogs were all over the $15 mark. Some were $12, but the packages were tiny. I checked on Bully sticks and was stunned that a pack of 6 was $28.
Really?
For cow penis?!
Come on!
So now what?
Well, I go back to making my own treats. I can buy a tray of chicken gizzards for about $3, dehydrate them and I have some happy pups. I'm still struggling with chews though. It was shocking to me that you can buy a bag of 50 to 60 rawhide chews for less than $10, but if you want one sterilized beef bone you're paying close to $5 for just one.
I guess part of it too is that these are treats. They don't always have to be healthy as the word "treat" would imply. And, not every treat I eat is healthy. In fact, that pizza I had for dinner was less healthy than the bison and chicken kibbles my crew gobbled down for their dinner. So, if I want to get them store bought treats, or chews, then I may have to settle for something that has ingredients that aren't quite satisfactory. Otherwise, Mr. K and I won't be eating because we won't have enough money to feed ourselves.
Gaining new information takes a lot of work, but undoing what you know is impossible.
What is this little nugget of knowledge that is bothering me?
Dog nutrition.
This evening, as a break from writing one of my numerous papers, I decided to go on to Amazon and just browse the plethora of dog treats available for purchase. I used to do this from time to time, but I haven't done it in a while. So, off I went. I guess for me it's a way to window shop independently. If I take most people into pet shops with me they want to get in and out and they certainly don't want to go through the insane amounts of dog products available.
Who can blame them?
Think about just how much is piled on to one shelf in just the toy section or the treat section.
However, if I don't browse how do I find out what's out there?
Some things I learn about from friends or by reading doggie articles and sometimes someone will be brave enough to go into a pet store with me, but most often I figure things out by seeing them listed on a site like Amazon. If I think the title looks interesting then I go and look the product up on its company's site-reading the ingredients, of course.
Here's where the "ignorance is bliss" part comes in.
If you read the names of the products they sound great, right?
Words like "natural," "baked," "organic,"" "grain free," Etc make the majority of those treats sound fantastic. One treat in particular caught my attention because it claimed to be an ever lasting chew treat that was grain free. Since I thought it sounded good I took a closer look and immediately scratched it off my list. Right after the "ever lasting" part and the "minimal ingredients" part it said chicken "flavored."
Chicken = good
Chicken FLAVORED = not so good.
Have you ever seen those people snacks in stores that read "butter flavoring" only to find out that when you read the ingredients there isn't any butter in it at all? Same thing applies here.
Quite often if the label reads "flavored" anything, whether it's duck/salmon/chicken/bison/kangaroo, it means that that meat isn't actually in that treat. And if it is, it's way down on the ingredients list. Other yummy things like sodium (AKA salt) and stuff are used to make that tasty chicken flavor.
I was disappointed. A pack of two was only 3 bucks. If they had been truly ever lasting and contained good ingredients, like chicken as it pretended to have, that treat would have been great. If I hadn't taken it upon myself to know what I was putting into my dogs, so many types of treats would be available to us at an affordable price. However, dog nutrition, and nutrition in general, is an interest of mine and we all know what I do with things that are of interest to me...
research it to death.
All of the treats that I would have been comfortable with getting for my dogs were all over the $15 mark. Some were $12, but the packages were tiny. I checked on Bully sticks and was stunned that a pack of 6 was $28.
Really?
For cow penis?!
Come on!
So now what?
Well, I go back to making my own treats. I can buy a tray of chicken gizzards for about $3, dehydrate them and I have some happy pups. I'm still struggling with chews though. It was shocking to me that you can buy a bag of 50 to 60 rawhide chews for less than $10, but if you want one sterilized beef bone you're paying close to $5 for just one.
I guess part of it too is that these are treats. They don't always have to be healthy as the word "treat" would imply. And, not every treat I eat is healthy. In fact, that pizza I had for dinner was less healthy than the bison and chicken kibbles my crew gobbled down for their dinner. So, if I want to get them store bought treats, or chews, then I may have to settle for something that has ingredients that aren't quite satisfactory. Otherwise, Mr. K and I won't be eating because we won't have enough money to feed ourselves.
Gaining new information takes a lot of work, but undoing what you know is impossible.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Kitty Training
Yep.
That's what I said.
KITTY TRAINING
It's more like "kitty re-direction," but that is training right?
So, why on Earth would we be training Kira?
Well, ever since Rufio crossed the rainbow bridge Kira has developed a little nasty habit. It's funny because we had adopted Kira because Rufio had been displaying similar behaviors and for the same reason. So, we got him a friend.
Kira has started clawing up the carpet in front of our bedroom door. Not only is that bad, but it's even worse because we're renting. She only does it at night when we go to bed. Actually, she does it at night even if I'm the only one who's gone to bed. Mr. K could be out in the office on is computer which is right across from our bedroom and she will start scratching. I thought it was strange because when we are awake during the day she doesn't need to be in the same room as you. In fact, she's often off doing her own thing, but as soon as that bedroom door closes she gets right upset.
Rufio had become destructive at night too. He chewed through headphone and computer cords and a few of my bras. He would claw at the bedroom door, but since there wasn't any carpet in our old place he couldn't claw any. When we brought Kira home, his destructive behavior stopped.
We've tried leaving the door ajar so that she can go in and out, but it's way too disruptive. If she would just come in and sleep it would be fine, but she doesn't. She gets in the window and plays with the blinds. She jumps on the bed and head butts you until you either pet her or let her under the covers. Once under the covers she lies down for a minute, but then is right back out. She circles your head purring and chirping happily away. She whacks you in the face with her tail and if she's particularly pleased with herself and you're ignoring her, she whacks you in the face with her paw. I usually sleep tucked in like a mummy so I've never experienced her biting me, but Mr. K sleeps with his hands out of the blankets. If he's asleep and not petting her she will chomp his hand. And, if it's not her waking you up, it's the dogs. With the door open they think they should get up at every little noise. If I go to bed early and Mr. K is still awake, then they're charging off to see what he's doing. So, our door ajar plan has been a bust.
In talking to my mom last night on the phone she asked me what we were going to do. I said I didn't know. Maybe put something over the spot? But what? It's in the doorway.
She's not a bad kitty. She just needs to be shown what is acceptable behavior. She doesn't scratch anything else she shouldn't. In fact, one of the reasons we decided to take her home from the humane society was because after she had greeted us she went directly to the scratching post in the kitty adoption room and started scratching. She seemed to know what it was for.
Since bringing her home she has three different pieces of scratching furniture. One is a regular scratching post that is just above the knee. The other is a tower that is taller than me and the third which was donated to her by her Grandma K is a little heart shaped perched with a scratcher. She loves it. She uses all of them...except when the bedroom door is closed and me an the dogs are locked away. I'm not even sure it's me she's mad about being unavailable to serve her royal kittiness. I think she's mad her BFF Otis is sleeping and ignoring her.
It was Mr. K who came up with the genius idea of how to stop her destroying the carpet. As soon as he said what he was thinking it was like,
"why didn't I think of that?"
I am so used to thinking in terms of re-directing unwanted dog behavior that it didn't even occur to me to do it with a cat.
The solution to our problem?
Mr. K brought the knee high scratching post upstairs and put it over the spot where she's been digging.
Genius don't you think?
He only put it there this morning so we'll see what happens tonight, but my thinking is that the spot is not only covered up but it is covered up with something she is allowed to take her frustrations out on. I think it will work.
Have a cat who is doing things he/she shouldn't be? Don't re-home him/her.
Call in the Kitty Whisperer Mr. K!
That's what I said.
KITTY TRAINING
It's more like "kitty re-direction," but that is training right?
So, why on Earth would we be training Kira?
Well, ever since Rufio crossed the rainbow bridge Kira has developed a little nasty habit. It's funny because we had adopted Kira because Rufio had been displaying similar behaviors and for the same reason. So, we got him a friend.
Kira has started clawing up the carpet in front of our bedroom door. Not only is that bad, but it's even worse because we're renting. She only does it at night when we go to bed. Actually, she does it at night even if I'm the only one who's gone to bed. Mr. K could be out in the office on is computer which is right across from our bedroom and she will start scratching. I thought it was strange because when we are awake during the day she doesn't need to be in the same room as you. In fact, she's often off doing her own thing, but as soon as that bedroom door closes she gets right upset.
Rufio had become destructive at night too. He chewed through headphone and computer cords and a few of my bras. He would claw at the bedroom door, but since there wasn't any carpet in our old place he couldn't claw any. When we brought Kira home, his destructive behavior stopped.
We've tried leaving the door ajar so that she can go in and out, but it's way too disruptive. If she would just come in and sleep it would be fine, but she doesn't. She gets in the window and plays with the blinds. She jumps on the bed and head butts you until you either pet her or let her under the covers. Once under the covers she lies down for a minute, but then is right back out. She circles your head purring and chirping happily away. She whacks you in the face with her tail and if she's particularly pleased with herself and you're ignoring her, she whacks you in the face with her paw. I usually sleep tucked in like a mummy so I've never experienced her biting me, but Mr. K sleeps with his hands out of the blankets. If he's asleep and not petting her she will chomp his hand. And, if it's not her waking you up, it's the dogs. With the door open they think they should get up at every little noise. If I go to bed early and Mr. K is still awake, then they're charging off to see what he's doing. So, our door ajar plan has been a bust.
In talking to my mom last night on the phone she asked me what we were going to do. I said I didn't know. Maybe put something over the spot? But what? It's in the doorway.
She's not a bad kitty. She just needs to be shown what is acceptable behavior. She doesn't scratch anything else she shouldn't. In fact, one of the reasons we decided to take her home from the humane society was because after she had greeted us she went directly to the scratching post in the kitty adoption room and started scratching. She seemed to know what it was for.
Since bringing her home she has three different pieces of scratching furniture. One is a regular scratching post that is just above the knee. The other is a tower that is taller than me and the third which was donated to her by her Grandma K is a little heart shaped perched with a scratcher. She loves it. She uses all of them...except when the bedroom door is closed and me an the dogs are locked away. I'm not even sure it's me she's mad about being unavailable to serve her royal kittiness. I think she's mad her BFF Otis is sleeping and ignoring her.
It was Mr. K who came up with the genius idea of how to stop her destroying the carpet. As soon as he said what he was thinking it was like,
"why didn't I think of that?"
I am so used to thinking in terms of re-directing unwanted dog behavior that it didn't even occur to me to do it with a cat.
The solution to our problem?
Mr. K brought the knee high scratching post upstairs and put it over the spot where she's been digging.
Genius don't you think?
He only put it there this morning so we'll see what happens tonight, but my thinking is that the spot is not only covered up but it is covered up with something she is allowed to take her frustrations out on. I think it will work.
Have a cat who is doing things he/she shouldn't be? Don't re-home him/her.
Call in the Kitty Whisperer Mr. K!
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Internship Interview
Starting in January all of the students enrolled in the full time MSW program that I am in are expected to start a practicum. The field practicum is designed to help you get real life experience and apply the theories and techniques you have been learning in the classroom setting. I think many master's programs do this. I know for sure that it is an integral part of MSW programs. So far I have been offered one interview with an agency, but the field team tries to get you two to three interviews. That way, you can decide where you'd like to do your placement.
My placement process has been a bit interesting. Admittedly, there were times when I was pretty angry and annoyed. It seemed as though some members of the field placement team were obsessed with the fact that I was blind and just couldn't get past it. I had discussion after discussion about how I wasn't required to disclose my disability and that if I did decide to do so it would be me who did it and only after an interview was set up. I'm still in discussions with faculty members to address this issue. But, at least I have an interview.
However, I was initially annoyed about that too.
When I saw the subject line announcing that I had an agency interested in interviewing me I was pretty excited, but when I clicked on the email and saw the title of the agency I got irritated. It was an agency focusing on disability.
Really?!
After all of our conversations they had picked an agency for me that dealt with disability? There are so many other places where disability isn't even a part of anything. I have this core belief that disability advocacy is most effective with full immersion into able-bodied organisations, communities Etc. And here I was having to interview at a placement whose primary focus was disability.
After simmering for a few minutes I googled the agency and started investigating their website. As I scrolled through page after page I began to calm down.
Sure they were a disability focused agency, but they focused on a wide range of disabilities, including physical and intellectual. I even saw a section where they talked about assisting war vets who had been disabled in combat. That part in particular started to make me look at this agency, and the opportunity, in a different way.
This was a learning experience. It's not where I have to stay for the rest of my career and maybe starting in an agency who is already disability aware will make this process easier for me. I don't always have to do things the hard way. Mr. K has been teaching me that. Besides, I may go to this interview this afternoon and they will decide they don't want me. Maybe I'll go and decide that I don't want them. The first step is to go to the interview with an open mind and decide from there.
I don't feel super nervous yet or anything. Me being the worrier that I am though had started concocting problems even before going out the front door. My potential field instructor had called yesterday afternoon and left me a message saying that the agency was a fragrance free environment. I'm used to that from being a massage therapist, but then I started making up the scenario that since the place was a fragrance free workplace then someone there had allergies. That lead to the thought that if they have allergies that they will be allergic to dogs and that either I won't be able to work there or that I'll have a battle on my hands. It's this type of catastrophizing that gets me into trouble.
I cannot possibly anticipate every little issue and I really need to stop. The dog might come up, she might not. And, if it does, then we'll have a discussion. I really don't need to be worrying about that when there are more important issues. Not to mention, if I'm always worrying about what might happen I'm not focusing on the present...the here and now and experiencing life right now.
So, I've made a conscious decision to go into this interview with an open mind, as I mentioned above, and to stop myself if I start having catastrophizing thoughts. It's a little early for new year's resolutions, but I think I have the beginning formulation of mine for 2015. :)
My placement process has been a bit interesting. Admittedly, there were times when I was pretty angry and annoyed. It seemed as though some members of the field placement team were obsessed with the fact that I was blind and just couldn't get past it. I had discussion after discussion about how I wasn't required to disclose my disability and that if I did decide to do so it would be me who did it and only after an interview was set up. I'm still in discussions with faculty members to address this issue. But, at least I have an interview.
However, I was initially annoyed about that too.
When I saw the subject line announcing that I had an agency interested in interviewing me I was pretty excited, but when I clicked on the email and saw the title of the agency I got irritated. It was an agency focusing on disability.
Really?!
After all of our conversations they had picked an agency for me that dealt with disability? There are so many other places where disability isn't even a part of anything. I have this core belief that disability advocacy is most effective with full immersion into able-bodied organisations, communities Etc. And here I was having to interview at a placement whose primary focus was disability.
After simmering for a few minutes I googled the agency and started investigating their website. As I scrolled through page after page I began to calm down.
Sure they were a disability focused agency, but they focused on a wide range of disabilities, including physical and intellectual. I even saw a section where they talked about assisting war vets who had been disabled in combat. That part in particular started to make me look at this agency, and the opportunity, in a different way.
This was a learning experience. It's not where I have to stay for the rest of my career and maybe starting in an agency who is already disability aware will make this process easier for me. I don't always have to do things the hard way. Mr. K has been teaching me that. Besides, I may go to this interview this afternoon and they will decide they don't want me. Maybe I'll go and decide that I don't want them. The first step is to go to the interview with an open mind and decide from there.
I don't feel super nervous yet or anything. Me being the worrier that I am though had started concocting problems even before going out the front door. My potential field instructor had called yesterday afternoon and left me a message saying that the agency was a fragrance free environment. I'm used to that from being a massage therapist, but then I started making up the scenario that since the place was a fragrance free workplace then someone there had allergies. That lead to the thought that if they have allergies that they will be allergic to dogs and that either I won't be able to work there or that I'll have a battle on my hands. It's this type of catastrophizing that gets me into trouble.
I cannot possibly anticipate every little issue and I really need to stop. The dog might come up, she might not. And, if it does, then we'll have a discussion. I really don't need to be worrying about that when there are more important issues. Not to mention, if I'm always worrying about what might happen I'm not focusing on the present...the here and now and experiencing life right now.
So, I've made a conscious decision to go into this interview with an open mind, as I mentioned above, and to stop myself if I start having catastrophizing thoughts. It's a little early for new year's resolutions, but I think I have the beginning formulation of mine for 2015. :)
Wednesday, November 05, 2014
The Things We Learn
As I wrote before, when I started this MSW program, I was convinced that I wanted to work directly with people. I wanted to be in direct contact with a particular population. But, as the last ten weeks have progressed new opportunities have started to present themselves. With new opportunities comes new learning experiences as well as new perspectives.
The MSW program was one that I chose because I have always wanted to be in a helping profession. After my under Grad I was a little burnt out on the whole thing and so tried something else, but life brought me back to social work and I really enjoy what I'm learning. The program is super intense and so I find myself getting stressed out and sometimes a little grumpy, but if I look at the whole picture I know I've made the right decision; at least in regards to the program itself.
As I've moved through the various classes and have contemplated my options for my placement that starts in January, I've learned some things about myself. They were things I knew before, but maybe didn't pay that close attention to. The most important thing I've realized is that I may be too empathetic to be someone who works directly with clients.
What does that mean?
It means that I feel too much. It means that I would probably burn out in the first year or what the profession calls Passion Fatigue. I might even burn out while I'm still in school. It's something Mr. K and I have been talking about. I thought I would be able to separate myself enough, but even when I think I am, I'm really not. Even working with our fake client-a paid actor we interact with once a week-I am so exhausted by the end of the session that I don't know what to do with myself; just mentally and emotionally drained. And, I'm not getting any better at being a good listener and not taking on his issues. I get excited when he's excited, I get worked up when he's angry, I feel sad for him when he's struggling. All of these things in and of themselves aren't bad, but the extent to which I feel them is not beneficial to me or the client. I feel too much.
My professor even pointed it out to me. In not so many words, but after thinking about his feedback I realized that maybe being in a counselling role is not where I should be.
So, what now?
Remember how I wrote about maybe having to switch my concentration for my placement anyway?
Well, I think even if I don't have to switch it for my placement, I'm going to switch it for mine and Mr. K's sanity.
I think I am better suited for program directing, community organizing, fundraising, policy making, advocating. I think, and I never thought I'd say this, but I think I would be more beneficial to my clients at a macro level.
That said, no matter what level I am at, I want to make sure that I stay connected to my clients. If I am directing a program or writing grants for an organization, I am going to make an effort to meet the people I am working for...and I don't mean my bosses. I mean the population that I am serving. I don't want to become one of those policy makers that we hear about and people complain about who makes decisions for people without knowing the people or what their needs are. I don't want to be that person who creates a policy that makes things worse for the people who need the help.
So, now that it's in writing I will be held accountable.
It's kind of surprising the things that you learn about yourself as long as you are open to the information coming your way. If you had asked me in September if I wanted to work in Macro social work I would have told you that that was the worst idea I had ever heard of and that I hated Macro social work. Now, however, I think it's a great idea and I'm actually excited about it. I just needed to be educated: about Macro social work and about myself.
The MSW program was one that I chose because I have always wanted to be in a helping profession. After my under Grad I was a little burnt out on the whole thing and so tried something else, but life brought me back to social work and I really enjoy what I'm learning. The program is super intense and so I find myself getting stressed out and sometimes a little grumpy, but if I look at the whole picture I know I've made the right decision; at least in regards to the program itself.
As I've moved through the various classes and have contemplated my options for my placement that starts in January, I've learned some things about myself. They were things I knew before, but maybe didn't pay that close attention to. The most important thing I've realized is that I may be too empathetic to be someone who works directly with clients.
What does that mean?
It means that I feel too much. It means that I would probably burn out in the first year or what the profession calls Passion Fatigue. I might even burn out while I'm still in school. It's something Mr. K and I have been talking about. I thought I would be able to separate myself enough, but even when I think I am, I'm really not. Even working with our fake client-a paid actor we interact with once a week-I am so exhausted by the end of the session that I don't know what to do with myself; just mentally and emotionally drained. And, I'm not getting any better at being a good listener and not taking on his issues. I get excited when he's excited, I get worked up when he's angry, I feel sad for him when he's struggling. All of these things in and of themselves aren't bad, but the extent to which I feel them is not beneficial to me or the client. I feel too much.
My professor even pointed it out to me. In not so many words, but after thinking about his feedback I realized that maybe being in a counselling role is not where I should be.
So, what now?
Remember how I wrote about maybe having to switch my concentration for my placement anyway?
Well, I think even if I don't have to switch it for my placement, I'm going to switch it for mine and Mr. K's sanity.
I think I am better suited for program directing, community organizing, fundraising, policy making, advocating. I think, and I never thought I'd say this, but I think I would be more beneficial to my clients at a macro level.
That said, no matter what level I am at, I want to make sure that I stay connected to my clients. If I am directing a program or writing grants for an organization, I am going to make an effort to meet the people I am working for...and I don't mean my bosses. I mean the population that I am serving. I don't want to become one of those policy makers that we hear about and people complain about who makes decisions for people without knowing the people or what their needs are. I don't want to be that person who creates a policy that makes things worse for the people who need the help.
So, now that it's in writing I will be held accountable.
It's kind of surprising the things that you learn about yourself as long as you are open to the information coming your way. If you had asked me in September if I wanted to work in Macro social work I would have told you that that was the worst idea I had ever heard of and that I hated Macro social work. Now, however, I think it's a great idea and I'm actually excited about it. I just needed to be educated: about Macro social work and about myself.
Sunday, November 02, 2014
Do "Blind Moments" Come in Threes?
Blind Moment of the week Number Two...
Yesterday morning I sent the dogs out the back door to have their first bathroom break of the day. Hermione, Nala and Roscoe came back quite quickly, but Otis was outside, barking his little head off. I lured him back inside-yes, I said "lured." Bribed would probably be the better word. I know, bad dog owner, but it was six in the morning and I really didn't want the neighbors to hate us. Bribing aside, when he was out barking, it sounded as though his voice was coming from farther back than usual.
I was a bit confused, but thought nothing of it. We have a six foot wooden fence surrounding our little backyard which made me believe there was no way anyone could escape. The landlord even said that her Britney never got out of that fence. So again, I thought everyone would be secured.
The morning progressed as normal: breakfast for me; coffee for me; school work for me...you get the point.
At about 9 AM I gathered the fuzzy troops and headed back downstairs for fuzzy breakfast. Everyone ate and I again sent them out to do their business. Otis was particularly excited to get outside, but I thought it was because he saw a squirrel up in the trees that was taunting him. While they were outside I unloaded the dish washer and started wiping the kitchen counters off, but as I started on the second counter something clicked in the back of my head.
I had never been able to unload the entire dish washer before without one of the dogs wanting in. The backyard is very small and they really don't like being out without me for very long. I had never managed to unload a dish washer and wipe down counters either. Slightly suspicious, I went to the back slider and called Nala.
Nothing.
I wasn't suspicious any longer.
If Nala was in that backyard she would have been right there.
No Nala and no scrambling paws in the dead leaves.
No dogs.
Trying not to panic, or at least trying not to sound like I was panicking, I called Nala a bit louder. Mr. K and I had interviewed a dog walker a few days before for times when we aren't able to walk the two little ones and I had given him my key. This meant that he also had my recall whistle. Upon this realization, the panic really started.
I called again, louder but still trying to sound happy and excited.
To my great relief I heard paws. Eight of them to be more accurate, but I needed sixteen paws.
Roscoe and Otis were the first to arrive. I was slightly surprised because it's usually the girls who come back the fastest.
Praise and scooting inside with a treat each followed.
I called Nala again and waited. It probably was only five seconds before I heard her thundering towards me, but it felt like an eternity. Little paws were there too. Another party, treats and inside. Hermione had been hot on Nala's heels. I'm assuming the two of them were off adventuring together. Wherever they all were, they must have been romping quite vigorously because all of them consumed their body weight in water.
To be honest, I felt more relief when Otis came back first. His recall is the least reliable without the whistle and he's the one people would steal. There is also a fairly steep incline down behind our place and I was worried he had tumbled down and wouldn't be able to climb back up, or worse, had been hurt.
So, how did they escape?
Turns out the back gate had blown open during the night. We had some wicked wind and I guess the gate couldn't withstand it. Unknowingly, I had whipped the back door open and sent my dogs out to pillage and plunder the forest behind our place.
Its it possible that Blind Moments come in threes?
Yesterday morning I sent the dogs out the back door to have their first bathroom break of the day. Hermione, Nala and Roscoe came back quite quickly, but Otis was outside, barking his little head off. I lured him back inside-yes, I said "lured." Bribed would probably be the better word. I know, bad dog owner, but it was six in the morning and I really didn't want the neighbors to hate us. Bribing aside, when he was out barking, it sounded as though his voice was coming from farther back than usual.
I was a bit confused, but thought nothing of it. We have a six foot wooden fence surrounding our little backyard which made me believe there was no way anyone could escape. The landlord even said that her Britney never got out of that fence. So again, I thought everyone would be secured.
The morning progressed as normal: breakfast for me; coffee for me; school work for me...you get the point.
At about 9 AM I gathered the fuzzy troops and headed back downstairs for fuzzy breakfast. Everyone ate and I again sent them out to do their business. Otis was particularly excited to get outside, but I thought it was because he saw a squirrel up in the trees that was taunting him. While they were outside I unloaded the dish washer and started wiping the kitchen counters off, but as I started on the second counter something clicked in the back of my head.
I had never been able to unload the entire dish washer before without one of the dogs wanting in. The backyard is very small and they really don't like being out without me for very long. I had never managed to unload a dish washer and wipe down counters either. Slightly suspicious, I went to the back slider and called Nala.
Nothing.
I wasn't suspicious any longer.
If Nala was in that backyard she would have been right there.
No Nala and no scrambling paws in the dead leaves.
No dogs.
Trying not to panic, or at least trying not to sound like I was panicking, I called Nala a bit louder. Mr. K and I had interviewed a dog walker a few days before for times when we aren't able to walk the two little ones and I had given him my key. This meant that he also had my recall whistle. Upon this realization, the panic really started.
I called again, louder but still trying to sound happy and excited.
To my great relief I heard paws. Eight of them to be more accurate, but I needed sixteen paws.
Roscoe and Otis were the first to arrive. I was slightly surprised because it's usually the girls who come back the fastest.
Praise and scooting inside with a treat each followed.
I called Nala again and waited. It probably was only five seconds before I heard her thundering towards me, but it felt like an eternity. Little paws were there too. Another party, treats and inside. Hermione had been hot on Nala's heels. I'm assuming the two of them were off adventuring together. Wherever they all were, they must have been romping quite vigorously because all of them consumed their body weight in water.
To be honest, I felt more relief when Otis came back first. His recall is the least reliable without the whistle and he's the one people would steal. There is also a fairly steep incline down behind our place and I was worried he had tumbled down and wouldn't be able to climb back up, or worse, had been hurt.
So, how did they escape?
Turns out the back gate had blown open during the night. We had some wicked wind and I guess the gate couldn't withstand it. Unknowingly, I had whipped the back door open and sent my dogs out to pillage and plunder the forest behind our place.
Its it possible that Blind Moments come in threes?
Friday, October 31, 2014
Blind Moment: Over Zealous Essay Writing
I'm not sure if I've ever explained "blind moment" to you. I must have, but just in case I haven't or you forget, this is what it is. I'm sure you can guess, but my friends and I back in high school dubbed my "Jess did a dumb thing because her eyeballs don't work" blind moments. You know, a play on words from "blond moment." The whole "blind moment" hasn't really gone away; particularly because I keep finding myself in sticky situations because my eyeballs don't work.
What did I do this time?
As all of you know, I'm working my way through my master's in social work from the University of Southern California. It's a crazy intense program that sees me sleeping, eating and doing school work. Mr. K has turned into an academic widow. Poor guy. He's been really great; even editing some of the formatting of my papers for me. I'm so grateful and lucky. This past week was super busy with essays, exams, reading and other school work as usual. I had a big midterm paper due for one of my classes that everyone in my program has been worried about. We basically had to write a Psychodynamic assessment of a client. Sounds scary, right? Well, it is...or was because mine is now submitted for grading.
About five days before it was due I began to think that I wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to the paper that would ensure I produced quality work. I emailed the professor and asked for a two day extension. For those of you who use screen readers you will already know that screen readers take twice as long to read things than if you were reading with your eyes and the retention rate is only 30 percent. So, that means things take me longer than other students. She granted me the extension based on this and I worked hard to make sure the paper was good quality and was ready to hand in by the new deadline.
As I mentioned above, Mr. K has been formatting sections of my papers for me. Sometimes weird things happen, like the bold staying on for an entire paragraph instead of for just the heading or the font changing on me. Knowing this he had set up a template for me that I could use. It had the correct font and was already double spaced. It is so nice having a computer genius for a husband. This template is what I wrote my giant midterm paper in, or so I thought.
If you've ever written a paper, you will know that if you move a document from being single spaced to double spaced the document automatically gets bigger. Remember this point as it's important.
Sunday night I had five pages written which meant that I was half way done because the paper had to be ten pages long. Monday, Tuesday and even into Wednesday I wrote some more and added in my citations which put me on to the tenth page. I was so excited because I had until midnight to hand it in, but I had it all ready by 3; plenty of time to spare. I sent it over to Mr. K for the usual check over and he told me that there were a few problems. My heart sank.
I was tired. I didn't want to think about my client anymore and I certainly did not want to write about the client anymore either. I thought something had happened and the font had been gigantic which meant that I'd have to write some more.
"It's single spaced and the whole thing is centred."
He told me.
"What?!"
Mr. K changed the margins so that the paper was moved back into the proper position and then double spaced it.
My once ten page paper suddenly became twenty.
I had literally written twice as much as I needed to. I could have been finished with it on Sunday and handed it in early, but now here I was with twice as much information...and a professor who was adamant that we should stick to the page limit.
"It's 8 to 10 pages." She had kept saying in class.
I emailed her and asked if she would take it. I wasn't sure how I would cut half of what I had written out. And besides, this never would have happened if I had seen that the document was single spaced and not double as I had thought.
She told me to send it over, but that if I had included irrelevant information that she would deduct marks. I think I should get more marks for my enthusiasm!
Alas, I guess we'll see what happens when she returns my enormous essay in the upcoming weeks.
So there you have it: another blind moment strikes again. :)
What did I do this time?
As all of you know, I'm working my way through my master's in social work from the University of Southern California. It's a crazy intense program that sees me sleeping, eating and doing school work. Mr. K has turned into an academic widow. Poor guy. He's been really great; even editing some of the formatting of my papers for me. I'm so grateful and lucky. This past week was super busy with essays, exams, reading and other school work as usual. I had a big midterm paper due for one of my classes that everyone in my program has been worried about. We basically had to write a Psychodynamic assessment of a client. Sounds scary, right? Well, it is...or was because mine is now submitted for grading.
About five days before it was due I began to think that I wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to the paper that would ensure I produced quality work. I emailed the professor and asked for a two day extension. For those of you who use screen readers you will already know that screen readers take twice as long to read things than if you were reading with your eyes and the retention rate is only 30 percent. So, that means things take me longer than other students. She granted me the extension based on this and I worked hard to make sure the paper was good quality and was ready to hand in by the new deadline.
As I mentioned above, Mr. K has been formatting sections of my papers for me. Sometimes weird things happen, like the bold staying on for an entire paragraph instead of for just the heading or the font changing on me. Knowing this he had set up a template for me that I could use. It had the correct font and was already double spaced. It is so nice having a computer genius for a husband. This template is what I wrote my giant midterm paper in, or so I thought.
If you've ever written a paper, you will know that if you move a document from being single spaced to double spaced the document automatically gets bigger. Remember this point as it's important.
Sunday night I had five pages written which meant that I was half way done because the paper had to be ten pages long. Monday, Tuesday and even into Wednesday I wrote some more and added in my citations which put me on to the tenth page. I was so excited because I had until midnight to hand it in, but I had it all ready by 3; plenty of time to spare. I sent it over to Mr. K for the usual check over and he told me that there were a few problems. My heart sank.
I was tired. I didn't want to think about my client anymore and I certainly did not want to write about the client anymore either. I thought something had happened and the font had been gigantic which meant that I'd have to write some more.
"It's single spaced and the whole thing is centred."
He told me.
"What?!"
Mr. K changed the margins so that the paper was moved back into the proper position and then double spaced it.
My once ten page paper suddenly became twenty.
I had literally written twice as much as I needed to. I could have been finished with it on Sunday and handed it in early, but now here I was with twice as much information...and a professor who was adamant that we should stick to the page limit.
"It's 8 to 10 pages." She had kept saying in class.
I emailed her and asked if she would take it. I wasn't sure how I would cut half of what I had written out. And besides, this never would have happened if I had seen that the document was single spaced and not double as I had thought.
She told me to send it over, but that if I had included irrelevant information that she would deduct marks. I think I should get more marks for my enthusiasm!
Alas, I guess we'll see what happens when she returns my enormous essay in the upcoming weeks.
So there you have it: another blind moment strikes again. :)
Saturday, October 25, 2014
So Many Choices
I say that in a positive manner. To be honest, my life has had a lot of opportunities for me to make choices. Sometimes I made good choices, other times not so much, but the point is I've been lucky enough to be able to make choices. Some people aren't so lucky.
However, sometimes, especially right now with so much going on in school, I don't want a choice. I just want things to be the way I set them up to begin with so I can carry on writing papers, completing assignments and studying for exams.
But, it's not meant to be.
In the MSW program I am taking all students must complete three semesters of field practicum. The first semester of the program we spend working with a virtual client which has been interesting, but starting in January we actually go to a placement. I've been looking forward to this since I was accepted into the program. Sure, I do okay with the academic side of things-actually, I've been shocking myself with my results thus far *knock on wood*-but I'm a hands on kind of person. I want to get in there and "get 'er done." I am glad, though, that we've had the opportunity to learn first because if I had been thrown into a placement without any education under my belt, I'd be floundering.
My dilemma is this:
When you start the program you are required to select a concentration. This means that starting in the second semester, the same time you go into placement, your courses begin to be more focused. You take courses pertaining to a particular topic instead of more general topics. At the University of Southern California (USC) there are five concentrations to choose from, with subconcentrations being available under those. It's pretty crazy. When I first enrolled I chose my concentration to be Health because I thought it would be interesting. People in this concentration work in hospitals, specialized clinics and such. As the program progressed, I realized that perhaps Mental Health was really where I wanted to be. It's not quite as broad as Health, but you can focus on substance abuse, mental illness as well as mental wellness. I switched my concentration not only because I thought Mental Health would be more of what I wanted to do, but also because it seemed to fit better into the field practicum placement that I wanted.
We are allowed to make suggestions to the field placement teams and I sent them my first choice. To me, Mental Health fit right in, and one field placement team member agreed with me. But, there's a slight problem.
I got the news yesterday that my first pick for placement would be interested in hosting me. I was very excited, but the issue is that the field placement team thinks that I need to switch my concentration again. They think that the placement would be better suited to a COPA (Community Organizing and Planning blah blah blah) concentration. I have no idea what all of the letters stand for. That should give you an idea of how interested I am in that concentration...not at all, just in case you missed that. In fact, parts of it scare me. :)
This concentration focuses on things more from a macro level-policy making, financial planning, grant writing Etc. As I've learned from being in school for two months, all aspects of social work will have bits where you have to write grants and/or financial plan and/or be a part of policy making. But, what I'm worried about is that if I go into the COPA concentration, I won't be able to work directly with the populations I want to serve. I don't want to sit behind a desk all day writing/planning/policy making.
There are parts of the COPA concentration that I like. There is an emphasis placed on advocacy, fundraising (which I usually like to do in a creative manner), and community organizing. You can go on to start up your own organization to help people and that interests me. I've always wanted to do something like that and if I learn how to grant write, I'd be in a better position to do that. So, I'm kind of stuck.
I really want to work in this placement, but the financial planning/grant writing scares me. I'm also worried I won't get to meet the people I'm working with. I guess I could take it upon myself to make sure I do.
I like the idea of advocacy, organizing fundraising and maybe one day opening my own organization.
Mental Health is more hands on. But, if I learn about policy making maybe I could work in a place where I help people by working on policies that will help them. That's a lot of helping. :P
Eeekk!
I don't know.
Anyway, I emailed the head of the COPA concentration program to find out more and I've also asked my field placement to enquire about what I would consider to be mental health aspects of the placement I want to be at.
I thought about taking the interview and seeing what they would want me to do. Maybe then I'd be better equipped to make a decision.
In some ways I'm over thinking this, but it's because I tend to be a planner. (Hmmmmm, maybe that aims me at COPA)? As my student advisor said and others said, an MSW degree is an MSW degree. Even if my concentration is Mental Health or COPA, I could really work in either field. I could always take the COPA concentration and fill my electives with Mental Health courses.
This all probably sounds like jibberish, if you've managed to read this post to the end. But, I had to write it out. It helps me think through the process a bit.
That said, I still have no idea what I'm going to do. LOL
However, sometimes, especially right now with so much going on in school, I don't want a choice. I just want things to be the way I set them up to begin with so I can carry on writing papers, completing assignments and studying for exams.
But, it's not meant to be.
In the MSW program I am taking all students must complete three semesters of field practicum. The first semester of the program we spend working with a virtual client which has been interesting, but starting in January we actually go to a placement. I've been looking forward to this since I was accepted into the program. Sure, I do okay with the academic side of things-actually, I've been shocking myself with my results thus far *knock on wood*-but I'm a hands on kind of person. I want to get in there and "get 'er done." I am glad, though, that we've had the opportunity to learn first because if I had been thrown into a placement without any education under my belt, I'd be floundering.
My dilemma is this:
When you start the program you are required to select a concentration. This means that starting in the second semester, the same time you go into placement, your courses begin to be more focused. You take courses pertaining to a particular topic instead of more general topics. At the University of Southern California (USC) there are five concentrations to choose from, with subconcentrations being available under those. It's pretty crazy. When I first enrolled I chose my concentration to be Health because I thought it would be interesting. People in this concentration work in hospitals, specialized clinics and such. As the program progressed, I realized that perhaps Mental Health was really where I wanted to be. It's not quite as broad as Health, but you can focus on substance abuse, mental illness as well as mental wellness. I switched my concentration not only because I thought Mental Health would be more of what I wanted to do, but also because it seemed to fit better into the field practicum placement that I wanted.
We are allowed to make suggestions to the field placement teams and I sent them my first choice. To me, Mental Health fit right in, and one field placement team member agreed with me. But, there's a slight problem.
I got the news yesterday that my first pick for placement would be interested in hosting me. I was very excited, but the issue is that the field placement team thinks that I need to switch my concentration again. They think that the placement would be better suited to a COPA (Community Organizing and Planning blah blah blah) concentration. I have no idea what all of the letters stand for. That should give you an idea of how interested I am in that concentration...not at all, just in case you missed that. In fact, parts of it scare me. :)
This concentration focuses on things more from a macro level-policy making, financial planning, grant writing Etc. As I've learned from being in school for two months, all aspects of social work will have bits where you have to write grants and/or financial plan and/or be a part of policy making. But, what I'm worried about is that if I go into the COPA concentration, I won't be able to work directly with the populations I want to serve. I don't want to sit behind a desk all day writing/planning/policy making.
There are parts of the COPA concentration that I like. There is an emphasis placed on advocacy, fundraising (which I usually like to do in a creative manner), and community organizing. You can go on to start up your own organization to help people and that interests me. I've always wanted to do something like that and if I learn how to grant write, I'd be in a better position to do that. So, I'm kind of stuck.
I really want to work in this placement, but the financial planning/grant writing scares me. I'm also worried I won't get to meet the people I'm working with. I guess I could take it upon myself to make sure I do.
I like the idea of advocacy, organizing fundraising and maybe one day opening my own organization.
Mental Health is more hands on. But, if I learn about policy making maybe I could work in a place where I help people by working on policies that will help them. That's a lot of helping. :P
Eeekk!
I don't know.
Anyway, I emailed the head of the COPA concentration program to find out more and I've also asked my field placement to enquire about what I would consider to be mental health aspects of the placement I want to be at.
I thought about taking the interview and seeing what they would want me to do. Maybe then I'd be better equipped to make a decision.
In some ways I'm over thinking this, but it's because I tend to be a planner. (Hmmmmm, maybe that aims me at COPA)? As my student advisor said and others said, an MSW degree is an MSW degree. Even if my concentration is Mental Health or COPA, I could really work in either field. I could always take the COPA concentration and fill my electives with Mental Health courses.
This all probably sounds like jibberish, if you've managed to read this post to the end. But, I had to write it out. It helps me think through the process a bit.
That said, I still have no idea what I'm going to do. LOL
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Pawprints On My Heart: Rufio
We lost our beautiful boy on Tuesday. He was in full renal failure and there really wasn't anything they could do for him. The vet told us that we could throw all the money in the world at the situation and it wouldn't save him; maybe buy him a few more days. But, what kind of a few more days would have that been? He wasn't even two yet. I think that is what makes this the hardest. You don't expect your not even two year old, bought from a reputable breeder cat to die so early in life.
But, it happens.
This is the first of our furry family members that Mr. K and I have lost together. It's hard. I'm doing better today than I was Tuesday, but even just writing the title of this blog brought the tears again. That said, he was such a beautiful soul, so full of life and spirit that I don't want to fill his tribute post full of sad thoughts. I want to celebrate his life. And, so this is our Rufio's story.
We got him from a breeder in England. We had researched like crazy and picked the Siberian Forest cat breed because they were considered to be low allergen. Mr. K is allergic to cats, but absolutely loves them and so for his birthday, we added a new fur kid to our family. We took the train to get him. We met his brothers and the rest of the Siberians the breeder had. We nearly took one of his brothers with us because he was so adorable, but we tried to make the responsible decision and only took one kitten. Rufio, also known as Witchfyre Rudolph Valentino, was supposed to be a show cat. He was also supposed to be the stud for our cattery. None of this was to be because we moved back to Canada. Finding him a wife proved incredibly difficult and we eventually just had him neutered. I was glad then we had for various reasons, but now I'm even more happy because Rufio had kidney disease which can be hereditary in Siberians. I guess the breed is prone to Poly-cystic Kidney Disease. I had no idea.
The first night we had him, we had to stay in a hotel. We missed our train back to Edinburgh and were stuck. We smuggled him into the hotel and set him free in our hotel room. Mr. K and I went down to eat some supper and I worried the whole time that the wee guy would hurt himself. When we returned, he was absolutely fine. We did have food for him, but no litter box. We kept praying that he wouldn't pee on the hotel carpet. He didn't. Instead, he used my shirt I had thrown on the floor before collapsing exhausted into bed. Thankfully, I had been wearing layers and he only peed on one layer.
He was the most inquisitive, animated and brave thing from the moment we got home. He used to try to sneak out the flat door when I took the dogs out, so I'd have to shut him in Mr. K's man cave where his litter box was until I got back. He used to yell his little head off until I got back and released him. He used to roll around in his litter box and eventually take a nap in there. He was mad for chicken. If you weren't paying attention, he'd steal chicken bones right off your plate and take off with them. He used to go under one of our couches so he could crack the bone open and eat the marrow out in peace. Even when he didn't even weigh 3 LBS, he would growl at the dogs if they came near his hideout while he ate his chicken.
We used to have one of those fishing rod toys with the feathers on the end. If he ever caught it, he would grab a hold and pull it under that same couch and growl at you if you tried to pull him back out. He fancied himself quite the hunter. He would get up on to Mr. K's desk and attack the characters on the screen while Mr. K played video games. His favourite snuggle spot, when he was still small enough, was on Mr. K's chest. However, eventually he got way too big and had to be satisfied laying on the couch beside us.
That little spunky kitten grew up and moved continents. He took the move well and made himself right at home in his new, way bigger, house. One of his favourite places to hang out was on top of the laundry hamper in front of the front window. Sometimes I wouldn't get the laundry upstairs, and he would hop up on to the basket and spend part of his day surveying the outside world from his comfy perch. The cupboards in our old place didn't close properly and he would open them up, go inside and hang out. You'd be cooking, or washing the dishes and suddenly a paw would come out of the cupboard door and tap you on the leg. If you were cooking he would push the door open a crack so he could snoopervise. We had one cupboard designated for plastic bags and he would go in there and swim around like a maniac. If you put any kind of box, especially if it still had packing paper, or those re-useable grocery bags on the floor he would try to stuff himself into it. We would never throw boxes out right away after buying stuff online because he got so much enjoyment out of thrashing about in the box with the packing paper.
He only ever got out once at our old place in Canada and it happened to be raining that morning. I went looking for him to give him breakfast and was concerned when he didn't come to his name when I called him. He always came to his name. I think his recall was better than the dogs. As I went through the house, calling his name, opening cupboards and closets, I heard him meow at me. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I woke Mr. K up, since he hears better than I do, and he came looking for him. There Rufio was, sitting on the back deck waiting for us to let him in. He never tried to leave again. Although he did push the second story window screen out one day so he could sit on the window sill outside.
He loved water. Siberians are known for this, but I was still surprised when I'd be having a shower and he'd hop in and hang out. We tried spraying him with the kitchen nozzle for getting into the sink and not leaving, but he didn't care. That triple layer coat of his made him nearly water proof like a Labrador.
His love of food never failed, until the end of course. He would hear a can open, and no matter what it was, he would come running yelling his head off. I think that is pretty typical cat behaviour, but what wasn't typical was how long he was and how that length allowed him to reach up to the counter top. He would hear a can, come running and then stretch himself up to reach whatever was on the counter. He would even get on the counter top, open the upper cupboards and steal the dehydrated meat treats I had made for the dogs. He used to open our hall closet because he wanted the dog food. We had to put a stop to that because dog food is not good for cats, but it was genius how he would know just where to push on the folding closet door to get it to open.
Looking back now, I think he was sick for longer than we knew. At some point his reliable recall dwindled a bit and I thought it was just because he was a cat and that he was growing up. He didn't feel the need to run to us all of the time. Whenever he heard Mr. K wake up, he would jump off of wherever he was and go running to greet him. Again, at some point this behaviour decreased a bit, but we didn't take notice. He was a cat.
Rufio and Otis used to be the best battle buddies. Rufio got less tolerant of the battling, but we thought it was because Otis was a bit too persistent. And, it could have been, but you look back and you wonder. Otis used to grab Rufio out from behind the curtain by the tail. Rufio taught Otis to wrap your arms around your victim and kick with your back paws. Otis still does this.
We got Kira in July to keep Rufio company at night when we were sleeping. He had started chewing things, including my bra straps, and we thought he was lonely. Of course there was a warm-up phase, but after that the two cats would have what the girls and I dubbed a long time ago "Kitten Olympics." They would race around, thundering up and down the hall. Not soon after Rufio started becoming intolerant of her kitten tendencies too. He became more withdrawn and we thought we had made a mistake bringing another cat into the house. We thought his behaviour was all because of her appearance.
I don't quite remember what made us think he was sick, but I remember Otis going to play with Rufio and Rufio growling at him. That had never happened before. He had basically stopped eating, but was still drinking. He had lost a lot of weight and we brought him in to the vet. They ran blood work and diagnosed him then with Pancreatitis which I have no doubt he had, but she never told us how bad his kidney levels were.
They put him on steroids and we were giving him subcutaneous fluids at home. He seemed to be bouncing back. He wanted food again, he had started weaving between our legs and purring again. Oh, he was the best purr machine. Siberians are known for their motors and Rufio was no exception. He was even reaching on to the counter tops again. We moved about a week after his first vet visit and he started declining again. We had been told to reduce his medicine and we had. So, we increased it again as they had said to if he started declining. The vet had told us that his kidney levels were "slightly elevated" and that we would have to get them checked again, but not for a few months if he got better.
When we took him in to the new vet on Tuesday and he read the faxed over records from the old vet, he informed us that a month ago Rufio's kidneys were only functioning at 30 percent. We were angry. "Slightly elevated" levels does not equal only 30 percent functioning. We had a long discussion with the vet about what kidney disease meant and what renal failure meant. We talked about how far gone Rufio was and what was best for him. We talked about how a month ago he was really sick then and that we had done all we could by giving him the subcutaneous fluids. The vet actually seemed a bit impressed that we had done that at home. It was an easy decision in that we knew what we needed to do for him, but it was the most painful decision because letting him go was so permanent.
He was such a beautiful cat. When I had carried him out on Tuesday, wrapped in a blanket with only his tail sticking out, the cab driver thought I was carrying a fox because of how big and full his tail was.
Part of you wonders "what if?" What if we had known a month ago? What if we had known something was wrong months ago? But, ultimately, the vet told us that kidney disease wins and you never know how much time you actually will have with them. Maybe it's better we didn't know because instead of spending the last few months worrying about him and him picking up on that, all he knew was love and happiness.
We left him in the vet's capable hands. The vet said Rufio was so far gone that he didn't even know what was going on around him. He wasn't in pain which made us both feel better.
Aside from Rufio's good looks, massive purr and soft coat, that cat brought so much life to our household. We will miss him very much and will never forget his crazy antics. Kira looked for him Tuesday night which was heart breaking, but I think she is doing okay. She and Otis have become Royal Rumble buddies and I think that is good.
So, Rufio: I hope you found your way across the rainbow bridge. I hope you found Sasha and the other furry family members already up there. I hope you found the biggest pile of plastic bags ever imaginable and I hope there is the biggest box filled with the most paper ever possible waiting for you. I will never forget the cat who turned me from just dog lover to cat lover too.
Here's to you Rufacus Maximus.
But, it happens.
This is the first of our furry family members that Mr. K and I have lost together. It's hard. I'm doing better today than I was Tuesday, but even just writing the title of this blog brought the tears again. That said, he was such a beautiful soul, so full of life and spirit that I don't want to fill his tribute post full of sad thoughts. I want to celebrate his life. And, so this is our Rufio's story.
We got him from a breeder in England. We had researched like crazy and picked the Siberian Forest cat breed because they were considered to be low allergen. Mr. K is allergic to cats, but absolutely loves them and so for his birthday, we added a new fur kid to our family. We took the train to get him. We met his brothers and the rest of the Siberians the breeder had. We nearly took one of his brothers with us because he was so adorable, but we tried to make the responsible decision and only took one kitten. Rufio, also known as Witchfyre Rudolph Valentino, was supposed to be a show cat. He was also supposed to be the stud for our cattery. None of this was to be because we moved back to Canada. Finding him a wife proved incredibly difficult and we eventually just had him neutered. I was glad then we had for various reasons, but now I'm even more happy because Rufio had kidney disease which can be hereditary in Siberians. I guess the breed is prone to Poly-cystic Kidney Disease. I had no idea.
The first night we had him, we had to stay in a hotel. We missed our train back to Edinburgh and were stuck. We smuggled him into the hotel and set him free in our hotel room. Mr. K and I went down to eat some supper and I worried the whole time that the wee guy would hurt himself. When we returned, he was absolutely fine. We did have food for him, but no litter box. We kept praying that he wouldn't pee on the hotel carpet. He didn't. Instead, he used my shirt I had thrown on the floor before collapsing exhausted into bed. Thankfully, I had been wearing layers and he only peed on one layer.
He was the most inquisitive, animated and brave thing from the moment we got home. He used to try to sneak out the flat door when I took the dogs out, so I'd have to shut him in Mr. K's man cave where his litter box was until I got back. He used to yell his little head off until I got back and released him. He used to roll around in his litter box and eventually take a nap in there. He was mad for chicken. If you weren't paying attention, he'd steal chicken bones right off your plate and take off with them. He used to go under one of our couches so he could crack the bone open and eat the marrow out in peace. Even when he didn't even weigh 3 LBS, he would growl at the dogs if they came near his hideout while he ate his chicken.
We used to have one of those fishing rod toys with the feathers on the end. If he ever caught it, he would grab a hold and pull it under that same couch and growl at you if you tried to pull him back out. He fancied himself quite the hunter. He would get up on to Mr. K's desk and attack the characters on the screen while Mr. K played video games. His favourite snuggle spot, when he was still small enough, was on Mr. K's chest. However, eventually he got way too big and had to be satisfied laying on the couch beside us.
That little spunky kitten grew up and moved continents. He took the move well and made himself right at home in his new, way bigger, house. One of his favourite places to hang out was on top of the laundry hamper in front of the front window. Sometimes I wouldn't get the laundry upstairs, and he would hop up on to the basket and spend part of his day surveying the outside world from his comfy perch. The cupboards in our old place didn't close properly and he would open them up, go inside and hang out. You'd be cooking, or washing the dishes and suddenly a paw would come out of the cupboard door and tap you on the leg. If you were cooking he would push the door open a crack so he could snoopervise. We had one cupboard designated for plastic bags and he would go in there and swim around like a maniac. If you put any kind of box, especially if it still had packing paper, or those re-useable grocery bags on the floor he would try to stuff himself into it. We would never throw boxes out right away after buying stuff online because he got so much enjoyment out of thrashing about in the box with the packing paper.
He only ever got out once at our old place in Canada and it happened to be raining that morning. I went looking for him to give him breakfast and was concerned when he didn't come to his name when I called him. He always came to his name. I think his recall was better than the dogs. As I went through the house, calling his name, opening cupboards and closets, I heard him meow at me. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I woke Mr. K up, since he hears better than I do, and he came looking for him. There Rufio was, sitting on the back deck waiting for us to let him in. He never tried to leave again. Although he did push the second story window screen out one day so he could sit on the window sill outside.
He loved water. Siberians are known for this, but I was still surprised when I'd be having a shower and he'd hop in and hang out. We tried spraying him with the kitchen nozzle for getting into the sink and not leaving, but he didn't care. That triple layer coat of his made him nearly water proof like a Labrador.
His love of food never failed, until the end of course. He would hear a can open, and no matter what it was, he would come running yelling his head off. I think that is pretty typical cat behaviour, but what wasn't typical was how long he was and how that length allowed him to reach up to the counter top. He would hear a can, come running and then stretch himself up to reach whatever was on the counter. He would even get on the counter top, open the upper cupboards and steal the dehydrated meat treats I had made for the dogs. He used to open our hall closet because he wanted the dog food. We had to put a stop to that because dog food is not good for cats, but it was genius how he would know just where to push on the folding closet door to get it to open.
Looking back now, I think he was sick for longer than we knew. At some point his reliable recall dwindled a bit and I thought it was just because he was a cat and that he was growing up. He didn't feel the need to run to us all of the time. Whenever he heard Mr. K wake up, he would jump off of wherever he was and go running to greet him. Again, at some point this behaviour decreased a bit, but we didn't take notice. He was a cat.
Rufio and Otis used to be the best battle buddies. Rufio got less tolerant of the battling, but we thought it was because Otis was a bit too persistent. And, it could have been, but you look back and you wonder. Otis used to grab Rufio out from behind the curtain by the tail. Rufio taught Otis to wrap your arms around your victim and kick with your back paws. Otis still does this.
We got Kira in July to keep Rufio company at night when we were sleeping. He had started chewing things, including my bra straps, and we thought he was lonely. Of course there was a warm-up phase, but after that the two cats would have what the girls and I dubbed a long time ago "Kitten Olympics." They would race around, thundering up and down the hall. Not soon after Rufio started becoming intolerant of her kitten tendencies too. He became more withdrawn and we thought we had made a mistake bringing another cat into the house. We thought his behaviour was all because of her appearance.
I don't quite remember what made us think he was sick, but I remember Otis going to play with Rufio and Rufio growling at him. That had never happened before. He had basically stopped eating, but was still drinking. He had lost a lot of weight and we brought him in to the vet. They ran blood work and diagnosed him then with Pancreatitis which I have no doubt he had, but she never told us how bad his kidney levels were.
They put him on steroids and we were giving him subcutaneous fluids at home. He seemed to be bouncing back. He wanted food again, he had started weaving between our legs and purring again. Oh, he was the best purr machine. Siberians are known for their motors and Rufio was no exception. He was even reaching on to the counter tops again. We moved about a week after his first vet visit and he started declining again. We had been told to reduce his medicine and we had. So, we increased it again as they had said to if he started declining. The vet had told us that his kidney levels were "slightly elevated" and that we would have to get them checked again, but not for a few months if he got better.
When we took him in to the new vet on Tuesday and he read the faxed over records from the old vet, he informed us that a month ago Rufio's kidneys were only functioning at 30 percent. We were angry. "Slightly elevated" levels does not equal only 30 percent functioning. We had a long discussion with the vet about what kidney disease meant and what renal failure meant. We talked about how far gone Rufio was and what was best for him. We talked about how a month ago he was really sick then and that we had done all we could by giving him the subcutaneous fluids. The vet actually seemed a bit impressed that we had done that at home. It was an easy decision in that we knew what we needed to do for him, but it was the most painful decision because letting him go was so permanent.
He was such a beautiful cat. When I had carried him out on Tuesday, wrapped in a blanket with only his tail sticking out, the cab driver thought I was carrying a fox because of how big and full his tail was.
Part of you wonders "what if?" What if we had known a month ago? What if we had known something was wrong months ago? But, ultimately, the vet told us that kidney disease wins and you never know how much time you actually will have with them. Maybe it's better we didn't know because instead of spending the last few months worrying about him and him picking up on that, all he knew was love and happiness.
We left him in the vet's capable hands. The vet said Rufio was so far gone that he didn't even know what was going on around him. He wasn't in pain which made us both feel better.
Aside from Rufio's good looks, massive purr and soft coat, that cat brought so much life to our household. We will miss him very much and will never forget his crazy antics. Kira looked for him Tuesday night which was heart breaking, but I think she is doing okay. She and Otis have become Royal Rumble buddies and I think that is good.
So, Rufio: I hope you found your way across the rainbow bridge. I hope you found Sasha and the other furry family members already up there. I hope you found the biggest pile of plastic bags ever imaginable and I hope there is the biggest box filled with the most paper ever possible waiting for you. I will never forget the cat who turned me from just dog lover to cat lover too.
Here's to you Rufacus Maximus.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Time Flies
When was the last time I wrote?
My goodness.
It's been much too long.
As I always say when I leave this blog alone for too long, much has happened and continues to happen.
Frist, we moved...again. This time it was so Mr. K could attend a msters program which he got into, by the way. Yay him! He was also given a grant that will cover a lot of his tuition. His hard work in his under Grad degree paid off. I am so proud of him.
The move was incredibly stressful. I think moving to Scotland was less stressful. I think it was so difficult bcause I was in classes-and still am in classes-and there is just so much work with this program. The first week we were in our new place we were without internet. So, I fell a week behind, and, of course it was when the work load really started increasing. I'm pretty much caught up now, but I don't think I'll get a break until Christmas-the work just keeps coming.
That said, I really enjoy the program. It's interesting and really well structured. I'm waiting to hear about a placement since starting in January I have to go to a practicum two to three times a week.
We had some struggles when we first moved in with the animals too, of course.
Hermione was stressed and kept peeing inside. I finally leashed her and have had her on leash inside ever since. It's been an adjustment, but honestly, it's really helped her. Otis and Nala were a bit more barky than normal and Roscoe just took it all in stride.
Kira tried to run out the back door a million times, but I think she's just an escape artist at heart.
Rufio is not doing well. He was diagnosd with pancreatitis about a week before we moved-more stress. We gave him his medication and we were having to give him subcutaneous fluids every day. He seemed to be getting better, but he's been steadily declining since arriving here. He's still taking his medication, but it's not helping anymore. He's going to the vet today because, if I'm being compleely honest, he is very close to crossing the rainbow bridge. He has quit eating and drinking and can barely walk. I have tried grooming him because his beautiful coat is all matted, but he doesn't want me brushing him. He used to love being brushed. It made me feel better in a way though this morning when I tried to comb him and he found the strength to walk away from me. I left him be.
So, I am hoping that the vet can help him. I don't think he has pancreatitis since he isn't responding to the medication. He is definitely really dehydrated. Mr. K and I feel so badly that he's been suffering, but with the move funds for the vet were eaten up...not to mention the crazy high vet bill we got before moving.
In happier news, we both love the city we've moved to. It's very blind/pedestrian friendly. The buses are reliable and talk and most drivers are incredibly helpful. We haven't been able to explore as much as I'd like because of me trying to catch up in school, but we are hoping to go to the market on Saturday to check it out. I know Nala is enjoying living here because we get out and work quite a bit. We're still learning routes though so I wouldn't say that I travel independently yet.
We also started a youtube channel to showcase our crazy animals' antics. I think there are three videos up now. I'd post a link, but as you all know, Blogger isn't accessible completely anymore. So, posting links/photos/videos Etc can't happen when using a screen reader.
So, that's that, really. I mean, obviously when things were going on...like moving and not having a place to move into until four days before we moved...there was more to say about it all, but that would be a book and not a blog post. The cure for that would be to blog on a more regular basis. :)
But, I'll leave you for now and work harder at writing more frequently.
My goodness.
It's been much too long.
As I always say when I leave this blog alone for too long, much has happened and continues to happen.
Frist, we moved...again. This time it was so Mr. K could attend a msters program which he got into, by the way. Yay him! He was also given a grant that will cover a lot of his tuition. His hard work in his under Grad degree paid off. I am so proud of him.
The move was incredibly stressful. I think moving to Scotland was less stressful. I think it was so difficult bcause I was in classes-and still am in classes-and there is just so much work with this program. The first week we were in our new place we were without internet. So, I fell a week behind, and, of course it was when the work load really started increasing. I'm pretty much caught up now, but I don't think I'll get a break until Christmas-the work just keeps coming.
That said, I really enjoy the program. It's interesting and really well structured. I'm waiting to hear about a placement since starting in January I have to go to a practicum two to three times a week.
We had some struggles when we first moved in with the animals too, of course.
Hermione was stressed and kept peeing inside. I finally leashed her and have had her on leash inside ever since. It's been an adjustment, but honestly, it's really helped her. Otis and Nala were a bit more barky than normal and Roscoe just took it all in stride.
Kira tried to run out the back door a million times, but I think she's just an escape artist at heart.
Rufio is not doing well. He was diagnosd with pancreatitis about a week before we moved-more stress. We gave him his medication and we were having to give him subcutaneous fluids every day. He seemed to be getting better, but he's been steadily declining since arriving here. He's still taking his medication, but it's not helping anymore. He's going to the vet today because, if I'm being compleely honest, he is very close to crossing the rainbow bridge. He has quit eating and drinking and can barely walk. I have tried grooming him because his beautiful coat is all matted, but he doesn't want me brushing him. He used to love being brushed. It made me feel better in a way though this morning when I tried to comb him and he found the strength to walk away from me. I left him be.
So, I am hoping that the vet can help him. I don't think he has pancreatitis since he isn't responding to the medication. He is definitely really dehydrated. Mr. K and I feel so badly that he's been suffering, but with the move funds for the vet were eaten up...not to mention the crazy high vet bill we got before moving.
In happier news, we both love the city we've moved to. It's very blind/pedestrian friendly. The buses are reliable and talk and most drivers are incredibly helpful. We haven't been able to explore as much as I'd like because of me trying to catch up in school, but we are hoping to go to the market on Saturday to check it out. I know Nala is enjoying living here because we get out and work quite a bit. We're still learning routes though so I wouldn't say that I travel independently yet.
We also started a youtube channel to showcase our crazy animals' antics. I think there are three videos up now. I'd post a link, but as you all know, Blogger isn't accessible completely anymore. So, posting links/photos/videos Etc can't happen when using a screen reader.
So, that's that, really. I mean, obviously when things were going on...like moving and not having a place to move into until four days before we moved...there was more to say about it all, but that would be a book and not a blog post. The cure for that would be to blog on a more regular basis. :)
But, I'll leave you for now and work harder at writing more frequently.
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