I _need_ to love and to have a focus for that energy in my life. Though my heart is not truly open to him right now, he definitely has provided that focus and caused me to climb out of myself in a great way.

Harvey patiently loved me through four years of grieving Pachisi, my soul-cat, who died a week and a half before he was born. He loved me and did his feline best to make me feel better. He let me get away with merely taking care of him as best I could, with thinking of him and loving him as "just a cat", rather than loving him wholeheartedly. Because I did not have a whole heart. I knew I would never love another cat the way I loved Pachisi. And that is true. I don't love Harvey the way I loved that other cat. I love Harvey the way I love Harvey. And I love Sammie the way I love Sammie.

I hope that you are able to come to that kind of healing sooner than I did. But this is no race. It will happen when it happens for you. Whether it is Cagney or another creature who loves you and receives your brokenhearted love in return between now and then, I believe in it.

Like I believe in the Raylan immune cells. Fuck cancer up but good, Raylan.

bonny, I'm struggling with Penny. She's a great cat, very affectionate and cuddly. Much more than Maddie was, and way more than Anna (the cat I had for 20 years) but occasionally I find myself resenting her or think she's annoying.

But those feelings pass and I love her and grow more attached to her.

I hope that you are able to come to that kind of healing sooner than I did. But this is no race. It will happen when it happens for you.

Mwah. I hope so too.

Thanks, also, askye.

I am fond of Cagney. He's as sweet as can be. People say I should not compare. I'd be _lying_ like a bastard if I said I was not. My love of authenticity requires me to be honest. But, I don't think I'm being unfair. He's doing the best with what he has. None of that is actively bad.

(...except of course for the chewing of vintage...cannot be replaced...molding where everyone who enters my house can see it. argh.)

(Somewhere in Ginger's lymph system, sometime shortly. "Well, it's done...they're gone. Darnedest thing."
"Do I want to hear this?

"No, I expect that you do not."

"I so *value* these little chats."

Joining in on loving the 17 year plan.

I have no idea if this will help, but as someone with Mom issues and at least a partial idea of what you are going through, if you ever need someone to dump all the shit you didn't say to your mother (or anyone else) on, you know my email address.

OK Ginger, you are fucking awesome! That is the best dang response to a crap diagnosis I've ever seen. And you know, there are plenty of stories out there of people beating stage IV. There's no reason you can't be one of them.

my mom's principal had it in her uterus and somewhere else a couple years ago...she is very much alive now. A lousy boss, from what I can tell, but alive after a fairly crummy prognosis.

Ginger, I'm sorry to hear this news, and am fully signed on to the 17+ year plan.

I also am signed up for the 17 year plan. But I still say fuck cancer with a rusty chain saw.

bonny, I'm struggling with Penny. She's a great cat, very affectionate and cuddly. Much more than Maddie was, and way more than Anna (the cat I had for 20 years) but occasionally I find myself resenting her or think she's annoying.

I think I got Oz too soon after Pico died. And with all his many issues, it was a hard go to accept him. But even though I can still tell when the Feliway is out because he waanders around the house yowling, demanding food, and humping the pillows, he has become irreplaceable. It took time, and he is an odd little dude, but I love him.