"My" game.

Ask any gamer what 'their' game is and they'll be more than happy to not only tell you what it is, but they will tell you every aspect of it including their own personal crowning achievement whilst playing it. That game for me is Bionic Commando.


It's a NES game from back in the day. It's absolutely fantastic. You're a soldier with a bionic arm who is on a mission to plow through an entire enemy army, rescue a POW and destroy a top secret doomsday machine designed by a man who not only looks identical to Hitler, but is also cryogenically frozen for decades only to come reanimated at the most climactic part of the game. Crazily realistic, huh? I think so too.

I'll tell you what, that game is utterly fantastic to play. Your bionic arm allows you to not only grapple on to just about anything and swing around, but you can also hit enemies and grab little 'ration cans' for additional life.

So now that I've told you all about 'my' game, I need to tell you my crowning achievements. Most of the time you'll hear, "I can beat the game without dying once." Yeah, I can do that. Then you might even hear, "I can beat the game and get every item and find every secret." Done and done. Typically what you don't hear is this: "I can beat the first 3 levels with my eyes closed without dying." Yeah...that's right. And you've probably never heard this, "I can beat the game one handed." Yep. One handed.

Needless to say, Bionic Commando is my favorite game. Ever. That's one of the reasons why I have such mixed feelings about the fact that it has resurfaced in the gaming world. I am overjoyed because it's a new Bionic Commando game, but I'm saddened because Capcom is releasing the game through Sony and Microsoft, not through Nintendo.

However not only is there a new game coming out, there is also a new version of the original game coming out. Meaning, it's the exact same game only it's received new graphics, better bionic arm features and simultaneous two player action. But alas, no Nintendo.

So all in all, I still love Bionic Commando and I will continue to play it until the day I die. Now I just need to figure out a way to get an XBox 360 and the new versions without breaking the bank.

I'll keep my fingers crossed on the hand I'm not playing the game with.

-Zach

Look, a picture!!!

By: Mrs. Swarr

The camera card reader still doesn't work. I don't know the facts - all I know is that parts of our computer don't work and that makes me very grumpy. Maybe not grumpy. More like perturbed. Severely perturbed, that's it.


Anyway, still no pictures. No pictures of Lucy our new cat (does 4 months still count as new?), no pictures of Christmas, no pictures of Declan's 3rd birthday party, no pictures of the changes we've made in the house.... nuthin. I suppose we should just buy a new card reader, but we already have 2 that we were only able to use once or twice each, and dammit I don't want to spend money on something I just bought 2 weeks ago and shouldn't have had to buy again for 2 years!!!!!! Perturbed.



Ok how's this:




We don't really let Declan watch El Tigre a whole lot, partly because its too fast-paced for a 3 year old, but mostly because we don't have Nickelodeon and its rarely on demand. We try to let him know though, that 'this is your Uncle Gabe's cartoon so you should think its the coolest thing ever.' Hasn't really worked. Thankfully McDonald's was willing to help us out here and agreed to slip El Tigre toys into his Happy Meal (they really do make you happy).



Before you all condemn us here, we tried to avoid the fast food thing with Declan, but you have to understand... we slipped once, and ever after there is no food on the planet that compares to chickennuggetsandfrenchfries. Not only is chickennuggetsandfrenchfries the best ever food, but it will cure anything that ails him.



"My tummy hurts, wahhh"

chickennuggetsandfrenchfries



"I'm sleepy and grumpy, wahhh"

chickennuggetsandfrenchfries


"WAHHHHH"



chickennuggetsandfrenchfries



See? The choices are to refuse toilet food and stay up all night preparing organic yummies, OR concede the fact that people have been eating toilet food for 50 years and the worst thing that has happened is that they are fat, unhealthy and gross. The winning choice is obviously my God given right to a smidgen of sanity.



Am I off track? Where was I? Oh yeah, El Tigre. Well since the toys have entered our household (how dare you accuse us of having 4 of each character!), Declan finally gets the picture. I mean he mostly gets the picture. He runs around yelling "WHITE PANTERAAAAAAAA" and plays with the toys and still thinks Uncle Gabe is the best human being ever. I guess the only thing we're still stuck on is the whole 'dual personality' thing. He doesn't get that Manny and El Tigre are one and the same. That causes some major confusion let me tell you. Oh and it doesn't help that he has seen the episode where Frida steals Manny's belt and becomes La Tigressa, because now he's convinced that El Tigre is a girl therefore he couldn't possibly be Manny in disguise and so on and so forth.

Really Big Rodents

By: Mrs. Swarr

I always thought that kids tend to get overly excited about little things. Which isn't good because if you get overly excited about every little thing, you tend to be let down an awful lot. Well. Turns out when you have kids, you become just as bad.

For example, last Wednesday we took Declan to his first movie in a theater. The only kid friendly movie was Alvin and the Chipmunks. Not entirely thrill inducing, but since it has a lot of music, we thought it would suffice. I got super excited about the fun we would have and about telling our wonderful blog readers all about the great fun we had and I was convinced Declan would be talking about it for days (weeks!) afterward.

There I go, underestimating the level of grandeur now required to wow our little (almost) 3 year old. The movie? Just another movie. The popcorn? Good for a while. The fact that the screen was the size of our house - meh. Not so much. The most exciting moment of the whole evening? Trying to sit down and realizing that the seats are folded up. And if you run down the row flipping down all the seats it's really cool.

Oh well. It may not have been overly memorable, but we had fun and that was the point.

Mini-Schaeffer Has Arrived

It's official. Dean has created life and it now walks among us. Well, poops, eats, cries and lays on its back among us.

I don't want to steal his thunder in the details, but I was provided with the following FIRST PICTURE of baby Schaeffer. Enjoy!!



Congratulations, Dean and Michelle.

~The Swarrs

Don't touch me

By: Mrs. Swarr

Over the past year and a half, I have steadily been going blind. The fact that I can't read road signs and have to walk halfway down the grocery isle to read whether what I need is actually in that isle or not has been getting on my nerves, but what finally prompted me to visit the eye doctor is the fact that I can no longer read the show listings on our little Comcast menu. Do you know how horrible it is to actually have to flip through the channels rather than perusing the menu? There's this little delay between each channel that makes flipping truly agonizing.

After about 500 phone calls to ensure I selected a doctor in the network, I made it to the eye doctor today. Now I really don't mind the eye doctor (seeing as the alternative is the dentist which is truly worse than death)(no offense Charlie, I'm sure you're a fabulous dentist, I just haven't had the pleasure of your superior dentisting skills), but I really am not a big fan of that little puff of air they blow at your eyes - scares the shit out of me every time. Well let me tell you. My fancy new eye doctor doesn't use the little puff of air. Oh no. They numb your eyeballs and then poke them to see how squishy they are. That's right. My eyeballs are completely numb right now and they do NOT feel happy.

And as a side note, a bunch of lettuce and some dressing is definitely not enough to nourish one for an entire day. Add a few chickens, a loaf of bread, some side dishes and then we're on the right track.

I need a new button

When I get home today I am going to have to find the button jar and search for a new button for my pants. I truly don't recall how it came off, although I have a good guess as to why most buttons become detached. I did keep it in the pocket of my pants just in case I would be feeling ambitious one day and sew it back on. It's not absolutely necessary because I also have one of those metal tab/hook that works just fine...at least until one side of it gets bent or pulled out. So all in all, I'm ok to leave my button in my pocket until the time comes to restore it to its full potential of being a button.

Well, I thought it was ok...until this morning that is. When it all went wrong. You see, being 28, I already find myself having to take medication daily. One pill to prevent daily migraines (can I get a sarcastic 'yay,' people?). So until the day comes when I no longer have to take the meds, I must consume them faithfully. And because I am me, I sometimes forget. Last evening was one of those nights. I forgot to take it. And I forgot to take it when I left the house this morning. I only remembered it when I had to run back in to grab the phone that I forgot and while I was there, I also grabbed the pair of jeans and a shirt that I forgot (notice a pattern yet?).

So I shove the pill in my pocket and run out of the house. I get to work and I remember my pill.

I reach in my pocket, put my pill in my mouth, drink and swallow.

Crap. That didn't feel like a pill. It was a little bit too big.

Stupid button...





-zs

Friends

By: Mrs. Swarr

Declan has a best friend. I'm not quite sure how it happened as they've been best friends for at least a year now. Its not like they could have chatted it up in their first and second or even third years of life. But somehow they decided they liked each other and time has not weakened the bond. Should you think I am exaggerating when I say 'best' friends, let me enlighten you:

- When asked what he was thankful for over the Thanksgiving holidays, Declan immediately piped up, "My Isabel!"
- On days when Isabel is grumpy and sleepy, the only way her mother can get her out the door to daycare is to remind her that, "Declan is there waiting to play with you"
- Declan is constantly picking up acorns, leaves, cookies, etc. claiming they are to give to Isabel the next day

Since Declan is a lonely little mongrel with no friends outside of school, we decided a play date with little Isabel would be a good idea. This morning we bumped into Isabel and Isabel's Mom (parents don't have names at school, they are simply ____'s Mom/Dad) and set a date. Declan went from a sleepy, carsick lump to an excited ball of energy. He said something like, "We're going to play with Isabel and we're going to have so much fun!!!!" but really it just sounded like one long word.

Yeah they're best friends. I feel quite comfortable betrothing them now and avoiding any possible high school drama that may otherwise have occurred.

By the way....

By: Mrs. Swarr

The holidays were wonderful. Christmas was a whole lot of fun with too many gifts received and not enough given, my birthday was fine and relaxing, and New Years was the salve to any remaining stress. We did miss a few of our brothers and sisters an awful lot, but that is what happens when we all grow up, marry, and move across the country.

Declan actually behaved very well for having his insides replaced with sugar and then being overloaded with gifts. I may be a scrooge when it comes to getting ready for Christmas (I actually tried to convince Zach not to put a tree up this year), but I truly love the holidays and the time it gives us to enjoy each other.

Next is Declan's birthday, mere weeks away. This is what I have to say about that - Do you people have any idea how big our house is? No seriously. His toy room is now located in the back yard and I could care less if it is only 20 degrees out. "You want your toys, boy? Well bundle up and go play, I don't care if puzzles don't work with mittens!"

He has great toys actually, but you know what? He doesn't play with them, not because he's spoiled and doesn't like them, but because he doesn't have time. We all get home, throw some microwavable dinner down our throats, try to play/tidy up/bathe/remove the year old pumpkin from the front porch/pay bills for a few minutes, and then it is off to bed before we realize we've made it home. If you want to do something for Declan for his birthday this year, plan a date with him. Enjoy him and let him enjoy you. He is the sweetest, funniest, most lovable little guy, and his young life is slipping past us. He loves his family so much, and I guarantee he would love a day with you more than any other gift you could give him (not that he won't run around the house screaming about another Thomas or Lightning McQueen t-shirt...).

Bombs Away

By: Mrs. Swarr

Potty training sucks. Especially when the kid involved has no interest. There is nothing worse.

So when we are not horribly irritated by his straddle walk after he has let cry, "oh no I peed in my pants!" we try to take the laughs we can. Lately, the laugh comes with the poop. Rather than telling us he has to go or heaven forbid sitting on the little green and yellow toilet we bought just to make pottying easier for him, he leaves. He goes to another room. And when we go check on him he dramatically puts his hand out to stop us, "No Mommy! Don't come in here! It's gonna be stinky." Unfortunately I never retain enough composure to get the little squirt into the bathroom before making the room stinky, but at least I get some joy out of the day.

Cheap fix

By: Mrs. Swarr

I have been putting off any blogs because the ones that need written really require pictures. Unfortunately our camera card reader has stopped working (the one that we have only used once). For now I'll have to write sans pictures, and if I'm super lucky, I can get the card reader working and the pictures updated.

The first item of business is our pet situation. Being devastated as I was about losing Oliver, I conceded one day to a family trip to the Lancaster Humane League. The argument was that Declan had been extra good and looking at a bunch of cats in cages would be a special treat for him. My condition: "We are absolutely not getting a cat today."

Let me tell you, getting married, having a son, and needing to take responsibility for everything in my life might have turned me into a cruel, stone hearted witch, but when I crash, I crash hard. The moment we stepped into the room of playful kittens and snuggly cats begging to be adopted, I knew we would be making an addition to the family that day.

I told one of the do-good high school girls what I was looking for in a cat and she immediately told me which one was for us. So I went into a room full of free roaming cats to check the proffered cat out. He was fine, but nothing special - just a cat, and after Oliver, there was no way I would be settling for just a cat.

Enter Teena. Little white and black cat that decided my lap was the perfect place to cozy up and relax. That was all it took. We informed do-good high school girl of our intentions and in response we received, "No, you don't mean Teena, she's not friendly. All she ever does is hide in the litter box. Show me which one you were holding." Ha!! In your face! Teena doesn't like your teeny bopper ways, but let me tell you, she is all about a 3 year old dragging her around by her neck!!!

Needless to say, the first thing we did (even before getting her home) was change the name. Teena became Lucy about 2 months ago and has since survived numerous vet appointments, many traumatizing moments with Declan, and some very harsh words from me after she peed on our bed. She's actually turned out to be pretty nice. We still have a few kinks to work out, but she is very sweet and snuggly and puts up with Declan regularly. With age and practice, she might just live up to Oliver standards. Either way, she has definitely helped to fill the space he left in our home.

Snow Day

By: Mrs. Swarr

There are days that I will complain about having to leave work every single time Declan is sick, vomits because he ate lunch too fast, feels hot because (duh) he just woke up, or his daycare just doesn't feel like being open that day any more. Don't let me fool you. What could possibly be better than a fool-proof excuse to ditch work and hang out with the coolest 3 year old on the block? Seriously. The work will still be there tomorrow and praise the Lord if it isn't, but Declan is growing up so stinkin fast. Those days when its just me and him hanging out at home waiting for Daddy to join us - they're the best.

Declan's daycare just called and is closing. The weather sucks today, our cars and the roads are coated with ice, and I'm dreading the drive home that will likely be extended to 2 hours due to said ice, but I'm leaving in an hour and then - then the day is ours baby!

The Bus Rocks

By: Mrs. Swarr

Last week I dropped Declan off at school in the morning and was told he may be able to join the older kids for their field trip to a puppet show. This was a pretty big deal being his first trip out and first bus ride and first puppet show... but it was still uncertain if there would be an extra space for him.



I waited anxiously all day, wondering what tales our little man would have to tell later that night, if any. At home that night, we asked Declan all sorts of questions: "Did you go anywhere special today?" "Did you get to play with the older kids today?" etc. The answer to all was an uninterested 'no'. Sadly, Declan must not have been able to go.


Or so we thought. The next morning on the way to school we passed a school bus and Declan piped up, "Mommy I rode on a school bus!" I think he may have peed himself in fear with my uproarious, "What?!" (its ok he still wear diapers so no harm done) (except that he's still in diapers which totally sucks).


So after lots of questions, I discover that he had gone to the puppet show, had ridden the school bus, and hadn't told us. Honestly. Apparently Declan isn't to sure about Marionettes though. I asked him if he had fun and all I got was, "eh, sort of." Seems there was a scary monster that died (did you know there was a monster in Cinderella??), but the school bus was fun (duh, he got to sit next to Isabel).


So there he goes, having adventures, doing new things and mom and dad are oblivious. Maybe we'll book him for a communication class.

The Red Violin

By: Mrs. Swarr

First I want to warn you all against the rapid decline in quality writing in the Swarr Family blog. Why? The great writer of the family and composer of said blog (Zach) has decided it is time for him to move on and try new things. i.e. I told him to get up off his *** and make something of himself by doing some real writing. Okay that's not quite how it went down, but you get the idea. So from now on, I (wife of good writer) (who in contrast happens to have no writing talent) will be in charge of updating you on the family's goings on. And here my friends, is the kind of stuff I get excited about:

We bought a painting. At my urging. Me. Miss penny pinching, tight wadded, stodgy scrooge authorized the spending of many dollars on an item that does not fit into the category of "absolutely necessary for continued survival on Earth." What the hell? I give Zach a hard time for spending an extra $2 on brand name shampoo! But I couldn't help it. We do stupid things when we're in love. Here is the love story of me and my painting:


My father-in-law is an artist. Some of his stuff I like, some of it is not as much my favorite (did I skirt around that one well enough?). Well.... the moment I saw the Red Violin (the name I lovingly attached to her) I knew I had been ruined and would never truly love again. She was not complete when we first met, but that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

Like the start of all relationships, this one started out with a lot of doubt. 'She's too good for me' and 'She deserves a better wall than what I can provide for her' and 'What if she meets someone else'. Nevertheless I continued to visit her in Dad's studio. I even went to see her when she was moved to a gallery to display herself for anyone who dared walk by (the little slut). Jealousy ensued, but I was reserved to the fact that a Lititz art snob could give her a better home than I ever could.

Weeks went by and we saw each other only in passing. We exchanged pleasantries, but the atmosphere was cool to say the least. Then came the studio tour in which I knew she would yet again be displaying herself to the world. I was prepared to deal with it, until we got to Dad's studio and saw the crushing news: All Items 50% Off. What?! At least before she was demanding a decent rate! How could she whore herself out like this? I left in a rage of disappointment and confusion. Now any slum could walk in off the street and leave with her on his arm - it was anyone's guess what kind of life she would end up in. Through my hurt and anger, I simply knew I could not let that happen. Zach and I were well on our way when I finally spoke the words I had been hiding from for so long, "Honey, we need to buy her." I prepared for a long discussion with arguments worthy to convince him that it was for the best, but all I got was, "Okay. You'd better call Dad or it'll be too late." He had known all along. My secret love affair had never been a secret.

Well the Red Violin came home last night, and although we have little wall space, we made a cozy little spot for her, and there she will stay until Zach hits it big with his superb writing skills and we can buy her a new wall that is truly worthy of her.

Roar... tiger-like

By: Mrs. Swarr

I was going to write a nice long story about Halloween, but when it comes down to it, this is all there was:

• Mommy works on tiger costume for days
  
• Family walks in Mt Gretna parade on Monday, during which there is a torrential downpour and said costume is all but ruined. Trick-or-treat night? Wednesday. I have 1 evening to remake Tiger.
• Tiger shabbily remade, trick-or-treating a success despite crazed rush from Lancaster to Morgantown.

He knocked on the doors and said trick-or-treat all by himself

Post trick-or-treating:

• Declan learns he is not allowed to eat 3 lbs of candy at 8:30pm, even if he did just work for every piece of it.
  
• Our beautiful 2 year old magically transforms into a raging, screaming, spitting, writhing mass of evil.
  
• Said mass of evil is forcibly strapped to car seat (give me a break - I could have lost a limb) and proceeds to scream the entire 40 minute ride home.

I think he fell asleep at some point that night, but I've erased the majority of the event from my now frail mind.

Next year we'll give him door duty.

Oliver Swarr: A Tribute

We were actually hesitant to get another cat, but we talked it over and decided that Arty needed a friend. We went to the local shelter and I started to look around at the cats. Maribeth walked in the room and within 5 minutes had a tiger striped cat out of its cage and in her arms. It was the fastest bonding I had ever seen between an animal and a human. We found our Swarr.

We got him home and naturally he was hesitant of his new surroundings, but by the evening he was sitting on the couch with a little Declan hovering inches from his face. They exchanged sniffs and kisses and then whack. Declan hit him on the head with a Gameboy and under the couch he went for almost the rest of the night. If my memory serves me, I actually think he slept on our bed the first night and just about every night since.

He was fantastic. An instant part of the family. His bond to Maribeth was very strong and very visible. He wouldn't ever let me hold him for more than 6 seconds and he rarely slept on my side of the bed. When she had a bad day he would follow her and love her just the right amount. He was always there to greet her (and I) and never missed an opportunity to make it known that he was hers.

His patience with Declan was outstanding. He let Declan poke and prod. Explore and tug. Tickle and snuggle. And all the while he was happy. He would intervene with Declan at just the right times to get him to relax or help him do what we were asking. It was almost creepy, but he truly did.

Oliver was one of those cats that comes along once in a lifetime. He was an extremely loving cat who would always curl up on your lap. He would follow you around, but never get underfoot. He would nuzzle with you when it was needed and keep his distance when the time was right.

Although he was only living in this house for about a year and a half, he has more than earned the right to be a lifetime member of the family. He helped make this house a home and he will be sorely missed. And although (I'm sure) many other pets will grace the halls of this house, he will be the one to whom we will compare them all.

So to you, Oliver, we say, "Thank you. Thank you for coming into our lives and our hearts. You will always be with us."

-Your family

Arty's Test Results...

Ok...as all of you know, Oliver had Feline Leukemia. Feline Leukemia is very contagious and is transmitted mostly through saliva. Just for learning purposes, I'll break this down as simple as possible: Once the virus enters the body, it travels to the nearest lymph node. It uses that lymph node to replicate itself to the point where it enters the blood stream. If the immune gets defeated it then infects the rest of the lymph nodes and replicates itself on such a scale that it ends up killing the cat (or becoming semi-dormant yet embedding itself in the bone marrow, blah blah blah).

So given the fact that Oliver had it and he and Artemus played together and shared the same food/water dishes, we've been hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. Maribeth took Arty into the vet today to get him tested. As always he acted like the spawn of the darkest Hellcat. They took what they needed for testing and gave him a quick once over. Except for fleas, everything else seemed in order. Then it was back in the crate, devil-cat.

Now as most of you know, Arty is "my" cat, so I was extremely anxious for the results. After losing Oliver, losing Arty would have been equally, if not more painful. So I called Maribeth to see if she had heard anything and she had not. So I called....I spoke with the vet tech.

Artemus' test results: Negative. >sigh< Joy of joys.

That was very unexpected, but well needed news after losing Oliver. I asked about us getting him retested after 3 months or so and she said there is no need. If he was that exposed to Oliver and he didn't get it before now, he won't get it. So no worries.

The only thing we can think is that Oliver had it before we got him and it just chose to resurface when and how it did and he just couldn't fight it. On the other hand, we got Arty as a kitten and he had all of his shots, etc.

So here's to you Arty. Good job.



Up next: Oliver's Tribute post.

Find upon finds!

So I've been perusing Google's patent search engine as of late and I usually come across some really cool stuff. The patent forms are very interesting to me because they not only have to contain a full description of the invention, but also a picture. I've also been fairly disappointed because it seems that every good idea I have, some schmuck thought of it, patented it, and is now squatting on the patent and not marketing their product/invention. Ah well.

I've actually found the patent for for a baby brain cooling device and also the patent for for the push pin. However, today (10 minutes ago, actually), I came across the absolute coolest patent form I have ever witnessed. It's for a toy gun which is convertible into a robotic humanoid form.

Yup. You guessed it. I found the patent for Megatron...





UPDATE: There is actually a whole SLEW of Transformers patents. That zany Takara.

Change of mood

It's been a very sobering week. It is strange to not see Oliver around the house as we used to. It's a definite change. It's different. But different is a part of this world and so is change. I'm working on a nice tribute page for Oliver...to celebrate the joy and friendship he brought to out home rather than just mourn his loss. So be patient.

But for now we'd like to lift up the mood of this blog by talking about something stress free and relaxing: the holidays. I know, I know. I was just kidding. The holiday season is one of the most stressful and non-relaxing times of the year. But you have to admit, it's a fun stress.

First is the spooky Halloween holiday. Halloween's origins are actually not very well known to most. If you have time, go here and read about it. As far as costumes go, I think we've narrowed it down to two options so far for lil man. I know I need to come up with a costume as we're having a work party again this year, so the only one with no costume is Maribeth, unless we have a party to go to. Any ideas?

The next one on the list is Thanksgiving. We all (I assume) know the origins of Thanksgiving, but if not, here you go. Declan is already talking about this one. All he needed to know is that Uncle Gabe and Aunt Karla are coming to visit and all of a sudden he's asking "When are Uncle Gabe and Aunt Karla coming to give us thanks?" ...every day. It's going to be a long wait until Turkey Day. I love the innocence in him how he broke down that word to think that on that day we all give each other "thanks" (as presents).

And lastly, is Christmas...I'm not even getting started on that one....all I have to say is this, this, this and last but not least...this. I am excited...for all but the last one. That was just weird.

So...let's all jump into the holiday season head first and have some fun!!

p.s. If my memory serves me correctly, I owe all of you a blog entry entitled, "Santa Nuts" this year.

goodbye my friend

By: Mrs. Swarr

Oliver is gone. I stayed with him last evening, holding him and watching him - hoping for a glimmer of a will to live. I could make his death a long story, but I would rather not just now. Suffice it to say I travelled to the vet this morning and then brought Oliver home to be placed in the grave lovingly dug by Zach and Declan.

I have never been a cat person. Dogs are much better - loyal and true and joyful. But Oliver was all of those things. He loved us from the moment we found him at the shelter. Of course Oliver belonged to all of us, but there is no doubting that he was "my" cat. He curled up next to me in bed at night - he was rarely far away if not sitting on my lap. Even Declan got along well with Oliver. Oliver was fond of laying in the middle of Declan's puzzles and was always happy to give a kiss or rub to him. There aren't many cats that are patient enough to enjoy a 2 year old.

A lot of changes went through Oliver when he got sick, but he never lost his love and kindness. He purred all through his visits to the vet, and snuggled in my arms anytime I wanted to hold him and love him. He truly was a great cat, through and through, and we miss him desperately.

Thank you Oliver, and may you rest in peace.

Oliver: Update #1: The Plan

After a lot of thought and heartache, Maribeth and I have come up with a game plan.

The vet's outlook was bleak. She said she believes he may have 2 days at the most. He hasn't been eating and that is definitely not a good sign. So without food, even if he fights this thing, he's not going to make it. His liver and kidneys could be infected already (from not eating).

So to put Oliver's needs first, we've decided to schedule an appointment with the vet to have him put to sleep. That appointment is set for Thursday evening. So what the plan is is this:

Tonight I'm going to force feed him some wet food. He needs to eat. There's no denying that. If he keeps that down, that's a good start. Then we see how he's doing tomorrow night and force feed him again. If that stays down, the appointment gets canceled and we take it one step at a time.

If I force feed him tonight and he can't keep that down, then we keep the appointment and just make him as comfortable as possible.

Wish us luck and keep the Swarrs (especially the little furry ones) in your prayers.

I'll let you know how it goes...check back for more posts.