Things had settled into a fairly comfortable routine. I was learning to deal with where I was on the progression scale of my issues. At church, we finally decided to tear down the old shed. I ordered the dumpster and last Saturday, we really got a good start thanks to many folks efforts and a rental reciprocating saw from Home Depot. Wednesday, the Pastor and I rented another saw and got to work cutting more panels down and dropping the roof rafters. That's when I got in trouble. The extension ladder was leaning on the roof joice, and I was cutting rafters. Yes, I can hear all of you saying, what were you doing on a ladder?! Hey, I felt good, and it felt good to be doing something physical and useful. In any case, I cut the joice, the joice collapsed and the ladder, the saw and me, fell about 12 feet!.. The ladder got the worst of it, it is bent beyond repair. The saw made it OK, and I did too. Actually, it was fun. Yes, fun! I was alive again, doing something. I got up and kept working, for another hour or so. Yes the Pastor was concerned. But I assured him I was perfectly OK, and I am. A little sore this morning, but no lasting damage. And I still think it was fun. My complaint is, I am OK falling off a ladder, but my wife and my neurologist won't let me drive a race car with Richard Petty's Driving Experience. I think I will sneak out and do it anyway!
On a more somber note, we had to have our cat, Missy, put down today. She was 18 years old. Her kidneys failed, she lost 33% of her body weight in about two weeks, and this morning she could not walk. She had a good, long life. She survived cancer surgery almost ten years ago. Our Vet did not think she would live 6 months after that surgery. She lived almost ten very good years after that surgery and she was spoiled every day of them. Just the same, this was very sudden and my wife and I are in shock. It seem surreal, like a bad dream. We both loved Missy and will miss her. Because of my condition, we have decided not to get any more pets. The stress of loosing them is just too difficult for either of us. The emotional investment is just too much. We still have our miniature poodle. He is seven and doing quite well. I am sure he will miss Missy too. We rescued her from the street, 18 years ago. She was starving to death, skinny, and scared. We actually got caught climbing under our State Trooper neighbors police car, trying to catch her. He said, "I hope you have a good reason to be messing with that car!" He saw that we did and helped us corral her. She was a lovely and loving part of our family, and she will leave a hole that cannot be filled. Good bye Missy, I love you.