#backyard remodeling san jose

[nuhome-remodeling]

7 Small Backyard Remodeling Ideas for San Jose Homes

Here, we explore a variety of small backyard remodeling ideas specifically tailored for San Jose homes. From clever storage solutions to vertical gardening techniques, there are several inspirational and practical advices for backyard remodeling in San Jose, to help homeowners optimize their small outdoor areas.

[penglinlandscaping]

Premium Landscaping & Hardscaping Solutions in San Jose

Transform your outdoor space with Penglin Paving & Landscaping, a full-service design and construction firm in San Jose, CA. Specializing in residential landscapes and hardscapes, we offer paver installation, artificial grass, backyard and front yard remodels, concrete work, and more.

[365staging]

This charming home in San Jose has lots of space and a spectacular backyard full of fruit trees! #365staging #staging #stager #staginghomes #realestate #realtor #realestateagent #remodeling #homestager #homestaging #homeforsale #decor #decorator #decorating #listingagent #listing #milliondollarlisting #furniture #interiordecorating #interiordecorator #interiordesign #interiordesigner (at San Jose, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch8ghd8pRKB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tahoedonnercahomes]

2314 Price Way, San Jose, CA 95124 | Home for Sale

A fabulous home in a sought-after location!

Tucked away inside one of Silicon Valley’s sought after Dry Creek neighborhood, this lovely single-family home is the right blend of serenity and entertainment.

With the picturesque Dry Creek neighborhood as your backdrop, you’ll enjoy quietude while admiring the beauty of the fully landscaped front yard with a persimmon and lime tree. The large driveway and the front walk are constructed of stylish hand-placed pavers.  

The spacious backyard is an excellent venue for hosting both intimate get-togethers or grand parties among mature trees and flowering bushes, a horticulturist’s delight.  

It also offers the best of conveniences being ideally located! It is in one of the best school districts in the area, close to Los Gatos, Highway 85 and 17, and just a short drive to San Jose International Airport. And as if those amenities weren’t enough, it’s also near amazing Santa Cruz beaches! Featuring 1,915 square feet of living space, 3 bedrooms, and 2.5 bathrooms, this well kept San Jose CA home is a deal not to be missed.

A great place for relaxation for any season

The spacious living room will welcome you as you step through the vibrant front door. A large skylight, along with recessed lighting and natural lighting bring out the luster of the hardwood floor all contributing to the room’s elegant vibe.

Check out the sophisticated fireplace. Imagine sitting here with a mug of cocoa, looking through the large french door set at the wonderful back yard. This is the best way to make your winter days warmer! 

This modern kitchen will make any chef happy!

Next to the living room is an updated eat-in kitchen, sure to inspire you to cook meals for the family. You should enjoy preparing delicious food on granite counters and stainless-steel appliances.

It also features a breakfast bar and another view of the fenced-in backyard.

Comfort and function are combined in the family room of this San Jose CA home!

Right next to the kitchen is a cozy family room. It features a gas fireplace and brightly painted ceiling and beams that accentuate the beauty of the fan chandelier.

With huge space for relaxation and a visual feast of the surroundings outside, this will be a place where everyone will want to hang out in.

To find a  retreat after a long day, this master bedroom delivers!

It’s wired for surround sound and features a walk-in closet. Dual pane windows give an awesome view of the peaceful neighborhood outside.

It also has a remodeled en suite bathroom that gives privacy and peace . Aesthetic granite countertops and a custom-tiled shower are features that you will love. 

A peaceful oasis right in your own home.

Whether you love having guests over or enjoying a picturesque view alone, this San Jose CA home backyard is the perfect spot!

Fragrant rosemary bushes, Meyer lemon tree, Key Lime tree, and many other blossoming greeneries surround the backyard, making it a delightful space to relax.

One of the highlights of this impressive backyard is its well-built pergola. Want to enjoy a good view of the sky without having direct sunlight beating down on you? Simply grab a chair and bask in the canopy of shade provided by this uniquely designed structure.

The backyard includes a custom-raised redwood planter, custom storage shed, and newly updated pavers.

Finishing off the backyard is the fantastic custom-built wood-fire pizza oven to make any party a hit.

As if its many delightful amenities don’t make it attractive enough, this one-of-a-kind home also includes an indoor laundry room and spacious 2-car garage with finished walls, ceiling and epoxy floor and a pull down ladder to access the storage in the ceiling.

Automatic irrigation, slate tiles, landscape lighting, are some of the recent upgrades on the front yard.

Updates include Google Nest smoke alarm, carbon monoxide detectors, thermostat, doorbell, and a newly installed water heater.

Be the proud owner of this wonderful home!

Call/Text Ann Nguyen at 530-545-3458 for questions.

In case you can not view this video here, please click the link below to view 2314 Price Way, San Jose, CA 95124 | Home for Sale on my YouTube channel: https://youtu.be/rlwege1R61A

[karingudino]

LA opens its 1st tiny home village to combat homelessness

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Amy Skinner took discover when brightly coloured constructions began taking form earlier this yr on a colorless patch of asphalt throughout from a Los Angeles park the place she often slept open air.

Skinner, who’s been homeless for 3 years, watched as staff constructed a fence with a safety gate and remodeled the city-owned property into LA’s first tiny house village providing interim housing and providers for individuals who lack shelter.

LA speeding up the process of building backyard homes

Then in early February, Skinner was handed the keys to one of many 39 prefab items on the one-acre plot in a North Hollywood neighborhood. She and her companion, John Golka, moved into the 64-square-foot (6-square-meter) area with their little canine, Smalls.

It’s cramped however comfy inside their momentary house — with 4 home windows, two beds, shelving and an A/C unit. The inscription on the welcome mat on the entrance door captures their new temper: “That is our pleased place.”

“With the ability to lock the door and have a spot to sleep is large,” Skinner, 48, mentioned after a morning smoke with different new residents locally’s shared outside area. Vivid crimson picnic tables stood close by and a “hygiene trailer” with bogs and showers was simply steps away.

“Simply with the ability to go to sleep! That’s so exhausting to do while you’re on the streets,” she mentioned.

Tiny properties have been promoted as the answer to every kind of housing wants — an inexpensive possibility in costly huge cities and ease for individuals who wish to declutter their lives. They’re more and more used as shelter for homeless folks in different California cities, together with San Jose and Sacramento, in addition to nationally in Seattle, Minneapolis and Des Moines, Iowa.

A resident eats in entrance of a row of tiny properties for the homeless on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

A homeless particular person, who calls himself Tiffany, at left, sits in a courtyard space in a tiny properties group for the homeless on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

A homeless particular person, who calls himself Tiffany, sits inside his tiny house on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

A homeless particular person, who calls himself Tiffany, sits inside his tiny house on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

Staff discuss to a resident, at proper, in entrance a row of tiny properties for the homeless on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

A resident walks with their bike alongside a row of tiny properties for the homeless on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

Hope of the Valley CEO Ken Craft, proper, talks to resident Ted Beauregard outdoors of a row of tiny properties for the homeless on Feb. 25, 2021, in North Hollywood. (AP Photograph/Marcio Jose Sanchez)

Chandler Road village was developed and funded by Los Angeles as a part of an emergency response to the worsening homelessness disaster. A 2020 tally discovered there have been 66,400 homeless folks in Los Angeles County — up greater than 12% from the earlier yr.

Greater than 150,000 persons are homeless statewide. Gov. Gavin Newsom mentioned Tuesday throughout his State of the State deal with that he plans to commit $2 billion this yr to create extra housing for these with out shelter, whereas concurrently addressing psychological well being and substance abuse points.

The pandemic has compelled much more residents onto the streets, as congregant shelters lower capability to keep up social distancing. In the meantime, a 2016 Los Angeles poll measure meant to fund as many as 10,000 supportive housing items took too lengthy to ramp up and advocates for the homeless demanded officers act instantly. The town and county started in search of artistic, inexpensive options to get folks out of the tents that line sidewalks close to downtown and underneath freeway overpasses in suburban areas.

Metropolis Councilman Paul Kerkorian, whose district consists of North Hollywood, mentioned officers zeroed in on the deserted, awkwardly formed slice of land throughout from the park.

“It was ideally fitted to this use and never a lot else,” Kerkorian mentioned.

The tiny house village needed to overcome some “not-in-my-backyard” reactions from close by residents who wanted to be satisfied it’s a secure, clear alternative for shelter, Kerkorian mentioned.

Ken Craft, CEO of the nonprofit Hope of the Valley, which operates Chandler Road, mentioned he asks doubtful neighbors if they’d quite have a tent encampment or the tiny properties on the land.

“Right here we have now providers,” he mentioned. “”Right here folks can begin to chart a path out of homelessness.”

Counselors at Chandler Road present psychological well being remedy, authorized assist and help with job searches. Skinner is getting her Social Safety card, which she hopes is a primary step towards full employment.

The properties are crimson, white and blue with vibrant yellow pathways between them. The attention-catching colours are supposed to keep away from an institutional really feel and assist the village match into the encompassing space. Kerkorian mentioned town labored with the builder to avoid cumbersome zoning guidelines and end the village in weeks as a substitute of months.

Models price $7,500 every, together with labor and supplies, and had been shipped as ready-to-assemble stacks of panels from builder Pallet Shelter in Everett, Washington. The entire price of the mission was about $5 million, in keeping with Kerkorian’s workplace, with the bulk spent on re-routing water, energy, and sewer strains to the positioning. Hope of the Valley will get a $55 per particular person day by day reimbursement from town to cowl three meals and social providers for residents.

“The first concern was, can we truly match all these items on the positioning? And as soon as we did that. we mentioned, can we make it slightly extra playful? Can we provide a bit extra privateness?” mentioned lead architect Nerin Kadribegovic with Los Angeles-based Lehrer Architects.

Hope of the Valley is setting up two extra tiny house villages in North Hollywood, together with one with 100 items that would be the largest in California, Craft mentioned. Extra are deliberate in different neighborhoods.

Advocates for the homeless applaud the hassle, saying each little bit of shelter helps amid the deepening disaster. However Pete White, director of the advocacy group Los Angeles Neighborhood Motion Community, knocks Chandler Road’s items for his or her bare-bones design, saying they appear to be “the shed the place you retain your lawnmower.”

His group is creating an identical group of barely bigger “micro properties” for homeless those who have in-house kitchens and are environmentally sustainable with solar energy and recycled water. The EcoHood pilot program might be funded by donations, mentioned White, who didn’t have price estimates.

“We all know that we are able to’t construct ourselves out of the disaster. However we’re studying that you would be able to make progress if you happen to can present that tasks like these truly work,” he mentioned.

The purpose for Chandler Road residents is to remain a couple of months after which transition to extra everlasting housing. Ted Beauregard, certainly one of its first residents, plans to be out by mid-April.

The 63-year-old discovered himself homeless for the primary time when the pandemic floor his fledgling building contracting enterprise to a halt. “I’m utilizing this as a stepping stone,” he mentioned of his tiny home.

Within the meantime, he appreciates having a roof overhead and a spot to retailer his belongings. He admires the development of his momentary house, which he likens to Military barracks.

“I take a look at it like I dwell in a gated group, throughout from stunning parkland,” he mentioned, gesturing by way of the fence towards the inexperienced fields throughout the road.

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source https://fikiss.net/la-opens-its-1st-tiny-home-village-to-combat-homelessness/ LA opens its 1st tiny home village to combat homelessness published first on https://fikiss.net/ from Karin Gudino https://karingudino.blogspot.com/2021/03/la-opens-its-1st-tiny-home-village-to.html

[neon-fruitmonger]

farewell to princess meatball, a very good & brave cat

tumblr’s utility as a conventional blogging site has always been questionable at best; nevertheless, it’s the only reliable stream-of-consciousness space I have outside of google docs.

importantly: putting this out here helps me. i’d like to think it can help someone else, someday, too. (be forewarned that it is very long and mildly graphic.)

the beginning

josh & I bought our first house in portland, oregon in the fall of 2014, two weeks before my 29th birthday. it was a freshly remodeled, mid-century ranch-style house a few short blocks from peninsula park. it came with retro-inspired light fixtures, charming built-ins, and a scraggly backyard-dwelling tabby cat. we purchased the washer and dryer separately.

we were not in the market for another pet. just as well, because this cat didn’t seem especially interested in being anyone’s companion. she laid out on our fence and occasionally peered into our windows, her docked ear the only sign that she’d been handled by humans. bearing the obvious marker of TNR and looking otherwise fed, we figured that could be enough.

i couldn’t tell you what possessed me to talk to the cat, but i did. there was nothing eventful leading up to our first conversation. we fixed each other with the same measured gaze -- me from the deck and her from her perch on the fence -- and i said, entirely conversationally: “hey, kitty.”

something about her face changed in that moment. she perked up and responded immediately with what I would soon come to recognize as her signature greeting: a confident and startlingly loud, “MEOW.” she slid down the fence, all claws, and came trotting up to me with an expectant gleam in her eye. 

what else was I to do but feed her? josh told me not to feed her; I lied and said I didn’t. one day at dusk (otherwise known as 2:59pm during winter in the pacific northwest), I caught him spreading out a blanket on the deck and inviting her to sit with him, bowl of kibble in hand. “don’t start feeding the strays,” I echoed back to him, and he called back sheepishly, “well, she seems pretty hungry. what else was I supposed to do?”

but she didn’t become our cat at first feeding. it wasn’t until we noticed the huge, gaping wound on her chest -- red and visceral with a glossy, sickly citrine overcoat -- and subsequently wrangled her to the local vet for stitches, that she eventually started the journey towards being our cat.

by this point, she was coming into the house just a little bit; enough to keep her out of the rip city rain and safely nestled in a cozy bed-and-blankets nest near the back door, but not enough to put her in contact with our other pets. she didn’t much like being indoors, either. we bought her a little outdoor cathouse with a heated bed where she could escape from the downpour, and that’s where she’d spend most of her time.

...that is, until I coaxed her inside with treats, wrangled her into a cat carrier, sustained significant injuries from the attempt, and somehow got her to the vet with my life intact. they asked for her name; we’d been calling her “meatball,” because of course we weren’t planning on formally adopting her, so why not give her a ridiculous moniker? (we would only uncover her royal heritage later, sometime between her peeing on the new mid-century modern couch and using the above-ground pool as a giant water bowl.)

turns out meatball was very well-behaved for the vet, so much so that they were able to clean her wound and stitch her up with a bit of local anesthetic and some veterinary elbow grease. I had her vaccinated and dewormed, with stitch removal scheduled two weeks out. there was just one problem: sweet meatball had to remain exclusively indoors from the time we arrived home until here stitches were ripe for removing.

tl;dr: she hated it. she yowled and scratched up all the furniture and peed on everything. she whined incessantly at the back door, staring out through the glass at the freedom she had always known. she would look up at the ceiling and flinch away, seemingly claustrophobic for the dearth of endless blue sky above her. she kept us up at night -- every fucking night -- for two whole weeks. all in, I paid $700 to be tormented nightly by a nine-pound demon spawn and was decidedly not stoked about it.

when we brought her home for her follow-up appointment, I was convinced we’d never see her again. we took the carrier straight out to the deck and opened the door for her, expecting some calculating hesitation at the very least. but no, she bolted out like lightning and never looked back, a shock of mottled brown fur running full-speed into the unkempt shrubbery where our fence met the neighbor’s behind us. she didn’t even pretend to be grateful. I chalked it up to my good deed of the year and we made peace with her unceremonious bailout. 

until, that is, she showed back up two hours later for her dinner.

princess meatball was ever after that our cat. she was mostly our outside cat, since that was where she felt most comfortable and at home. I had grand plans to convert her to an inside cat, but it seemed a cruel thing to force on an animal who had spent most of its life outside and loved nothing more than sleeping in impossibly tall trees, tightrope-walking the wooden fence, and yelling at all other animals that dared set paw in her yard.

not a year after we’d bought that house, I entertained a job offer in the bay area, in tech, a far cry from the boutique firm where I'd spent the last five years an underpaid editor, and where everyone was about to lose their job in an acquisition. we packed up the pets and drove 12 hours straight to san jose, where I hoped against hope that the yard in the house we rented -- a house we’d only seen through the lens of my local relatives who’d scoped it out for us -- was up to princess meatball’s lofty standards.

honestly, it’s hard to remember every detail from august 20, 2015 to december 21, 2020. between josh and I, we took enough photos and videos over the years to piece together a pretty accurate revisionist history, but there’s no need to rehash every detail. meatball’s days were mostly the same, in the best possible way: she spent her time outdoors, lapping up water from a bowl we filled with a garden hose, chattering at the many birds that nested in our trees, chasing butterflies, rolling around on the concrete porch, and sitting in the sunshine.

over the years, she acquired a two-story outdoor condo lined with turkish towels my aunt sent us for exclusive human use; we called it meatball’s summer house, but really it was an extension of her primary residence, and she gave no thought to the season. the princess had also commandeered the growing collection of patio furniture we amassed, along with all of the blankets and towels and everything else that made its way onto the patio. we joked that the back yard was “meatball’s house,” a concept that only grew in merit as she routinely greeted us every time we deigned to visit her.

it’s hard to convey through words alone, but the yard was her place. there isn’t a single inch of that space that wasn’t touched by meatball. when she wasn’t lounging in (or on top of) her villa, she was prowling in the bushes, taking shade under the hammock, or curled up on one of the seat cushions. she was everywhere, all at once. she was sunning herself on the deck. she was scaling the fence, albeit far more clumsily as she’d gone softer and, ahem, plumper from regular feeding and coddling alike. and if she saw you drag a blanket into the grass, she’d follow close behind, ready to lounge alongside you. 

mindfulness often eluded me, but sitting in the grass with that little tiger-ticked tabby -- the breeze fluttering her dark-rooted whiskers and tickling her nose, ears twitching towards the sounds of bluebirds and finches, fur glistening in the warm california sun -- was the only time I truly knew peace.

she had dozens of fuzzy blankets indoors, but meatball could be comfortable anywhere. she could lounge in the gravel; she slept in the dirt; she’d nap on the ice chest. inside the house, where her humans dwelled, she would flatten herself under the furniture; nest in open drawers, however shallow; lie in loaf position, head straight down, on the back of the couch near the window. she slept on both beds, all chairs, any piece of cardboard -- box or elsewise -- and every other surface imaginable, save the countertops. some of her sleeping positions seemed supremely unnatural and yet, meatball was so at ease in every space she occupied.

so when, in the summer of 2020, meatball seemed less and less comfortable in any space that wasn’t the bottom of the shower, I knew something wasn’t right. 

the end

one night, late in the spring, I'd remarked to josh that our princess seemed to be losing weight. she’d gotten fairly rotund up to this point, so the slimming didn’t seem drastic at first. even her increased thirst and cold-seeking behavior wasn’t totally alarming; we’d had unseasonably warm weather in the bay area, after all. deep down though, my conscience was nagging at me: something is going on with the cat.

meatball, like most other cats on planet earth, did not like going to the vet. unlike most other cats, meatball had been adopted semi-feral off the street and deeply feared all but the two humans who had dedicated their lives to socializing her. compounding this unfortunate fact were statewide covid-19 restrictions, which barred us from going into the vet’s office with her. nevertheless, on july 9th, we took her in for evaluation. 

she was anemic, we learned. her bloodwork revealed some other anomalies, but nothing definitive. her x-rays were practically useless. the doctor guessed parasites; we gave her a dewormer and went about our way. 

meatball maintained a strong appetite, but it wasn’t clear that she was gaining weight. against my better judgment, I googled her symptoms and her blood-tells. the internet’s vast crystal ball suggested hyperthyroidism and kidney failure and cancer. all of these were rare in a cat meatball’s age (or what we guessed was her age), but set my mental alarm fairies alight all the same. 

near the end of that same month, I slid my hand idly along her flank, scrolling mindlessly through the phone in my dominant hand, and felt a lump. 

it’s that same sick sort of feeling you get when you know you’re getting bad news -- life-changing, heart-rending bad news that will alter the trajectory of your worldview -- bad news that feels like a hard mass of something that doesn’t belong on your cat. I was not calm or collected; I was entirely mechanical as my feet dragged me to josh. I did not say, “I need you to come here” or “I need you to see this,” because those phrases were reserved solely for when the princess was being indescribably cute. instead, in a voice that felt unsteady and faraway in my own head, I said to him: “I need you to feel something on the cat.”

the results of this double-blind study were conclusive enough to warrant a call to the vet. the other vet. the really expensive vet with the on-premise hospital and compounding pharmacy and every type of specialist you could imagine. the vet that took three weeks to get into during the pandemic. that vet. 

by the time we were able to take her in on august 13th, she was alarmingly thin: just under seven pounds despite extra treats and stealing her sister’s leftovers. the expensive vet took a biopsy of the lump and examined it under her microscope. “it looks waxy,” she said of the results. “it’s not what I would expect to see with cancer.” 

vets have a tough lot. the totality of the healthcare system for humans in america is rotten enough on its own; naturally, most folks don’t have two nickels to rub together when it comes to preventive care and diagnostics for their pets. the typical next step for a human patient, said dr. blackwolf, was scheduling an ultrasound. but with pets, the expense was often tough for owners to justify, and she didn’t think it was urgent.

of course we opted for the fucking ultrasound. but the very soonest they could do it was september 5th. it would be ok to wait that long, she said, though the labor day holiday meant that we wouldn’t receive our test results back until the following thursday.

meatball remained as loving and good-natured as ever, but continued to lose weight. days before her ultrasound, she seemed increasingly uncomfortable, especially after eating. when the eternity between her biopsy and her ultrasound finally elapsed, we waited in the car, anxious and hopeful for the promise of a resolution. as with all appointments prior, meatball had peed in her carrier. 

when the doctor called with her findings, she did so in the voice that people use when they’re breaking tough news to you. that voice that’s practical and giving you space to process, but feels pandering in the moment. “we shaved her belly and found more lumps,” she said somberly. “her spleen looks like swiss cheese. her intestines are very irregular-looking. her kidneys are failing.” every word a mach truck to my gut. finally: “the prognosis is likely very poor.” 

she gave me options -- I don’t know what all of them were -- and advised me that they were contingent on the more conclusive lab results they’d get back. the doctor would not prescribe pain medication or recommend any therapy in the meantime, as this was highly dependent on the diagnosis. 

it took nearly a week for the “conclusive” results, which were as conclusive as: maybe your cat has cancer of some kind? if it was cancer and we wanted to treat it with anything but “giving up,” meatball would have to go to a specialist at an even more expensive hospital, because changes to california state law prohibited the adequately-expensive hospital from administering chemotherapy within its current square footage. so I called the specialist. september 24th was the soonest available; sooner than I’d guessed, but nowhere soon enough. I took it, and then begged dr. blackwolf for the aid of any political capital she could summon. in her last mercy to us, she emailed meatball’s test results directly to the head of oncology. I received a call later that same day that dr. regan could do a telehealth consult that friday.

by this point, meatball was urinating in her sleep. she slept at the bottom of the shower and would wake up with her left hind leg soaked in diluted pee. when she wasn't in the shower, she would lie on the outdoor dining table or the metal cooler or even the dirty concrete. she no longer liked to perch upon blankets, especially the fuzzy ones -- formerly her favorites. her breathing was labored. she was clearly uncomfortable. 

dr. regan was able to see meatball the morning after her consultation. she'd need to leech more of meatball’s precious blood, perform another ultrasound, and do all the things I'd wasted weeks and dollars doing before. but it didn’t matter, because help was on the horizon, and dr. regan was an oncologist. 

I thought about chronicling all the particulars of meatball’s appointment dates and protocols, but I'm not sure that it’s necessary or even helpful to get it all exact, here. importantly, meatball was finally diagnosed with high-grade lymphoma; the lumps we had felt on her flank were actually her lymph nodes. the prognosis was indeed poor, and we could either choose to give her steroids until her passing, or attempt a chemotherapy protocol.

after seeing my coworker put her dog through chemotherapy only a year prior, I had silently promised myself that I would not put my pets, my partner, or myself through that emotional rollercoaster. and yet, when an expert is on the line telling you that you can buy your beloved best friend -- currently a shadow of the animal you once knew -- a few good-quality months or even years of life, it’s really fucking hard to remember those commitments you make to yourself, when your pets are healthy and your life is going just fine.

we told ourselves that we’d see how it went. if meatball felt better, we’d continue as long as she did. if the treatment stopped working, we’d stop taking her in. simple, really.

and the thing is, the treatment worked. we’d started her on a 16-week protocol and she got five solid weeks of marked improvement. she put weight back on; not a hint of her former paunch, but the muscle returned to her legs. she wasn’t peeing in her sleep anymore. she was active, even playful at times. she hated the daily dose of prednisolone, and she wasn’t a fan of the weekly hospital visits, but we’d reasoned it was a small price to pay to see her enjoying food and treats, pain-free. each week, the doctor had said her lymph nodes were feeling normal. 

week six was her follow-up ultrasound and blood panel. once we saw how the cancer had diminished, we could put her on an every-other-week schedule, a much-needed respite from the weekly visits that sometimes kept her boarded for seven hours at a time.

unfortunately, this was also the week that the doctor felt meatball’s lymph nodes swelling up again, which meant the current protocol was no longer effective. every time we were at a crossroads with meatball’s health, I'd ask the doctors what they’d recommended. dr. regan said that we could try lomustine, a rescue chemotherapy protocol. there were risks, she’d said, but we could administer that to meatball instead of a now-pointless ultrasound and see how she responded.

if she’d responded at all, it wasn’t a good response. lomustine could only be given once every four weeks to keep its heightened immunosuppressive properties from overwhelming poor meatball. the first night, she threw up her undigested dinner on the bed. we’d brought her back weekly, still, for blood tests and monitoring. over the course of the next few weeks, she continued to lose weight and had lost her voice.

it was so important for me to be strong for meatball. I reasoned that she was enduring so much, the least I could do was provide her a source of stability and confidence. but hearing her signature loudmouth meow grow increasingly hoarse before falling completely silent nearly broke me. she ate haltingly, taking labored gulps from her dish. she could no longer alert me when she wanted in or outside, so she scratched at the door or simply sat and waited.

when we took her back to the oncologist, I thought that would be it; she’d tell me that there was nothing else we could do except “keep her comfortable,” an option that seemed out of our reach by then. selfishly, I wanted someone else to tell us when it was time to let go. but she offered to give meatball another dose of elspar and pursue another course of treatment from there, so I thought, may as well try.

and wouldn't you know it: our fierce little tigress, slayer of wayward rodents and champion of the tall grass, had once again bounced back from the brink. she put on weight. her meow returned in full force. 

it was one of many gifts we had and would receive for the duration of the princess’ reign. denial had a powerful hold on me for weeks, as I'd started to feel the notches in her spine once more; but the doctor said her lymph nodes were feeling mostly normal, remarked that her being was more substantial, and we held on to that hope until the very last. we held on until dr. regan called us an hour or so after we’d dropped meatball off for another treatment and said, I'm sorry, but I can feel her nodes again.

somehow, I expected the call before I even received it. meatball’s quality of life hadn’t decreased in any manner of obvious significance, but over the final weeks and months of her time in this mortal realm, I'd grown so in tune with her health and the deviations in her body and demeanor, however minor. the prominence of her ribs was as clear a diagnostic as any lab test, to say nothing of any disturbances in her eating and lounging patterns. these changes, like the ones preceding her eventual diagnosis, were gradual, subtle; viewing them as individual points in time, you could almost mistake them for the signs of aging, even in a cat as young as we think the princess was.

every time the disease changed course, dr. regan (and all doctors before her, for that matter) would present me with a set of options, typically in threes. this time was no different: we could try another, highly specialized course of treatment that required trained staff to administer; we could continue giving meatball the gentle elspar that had been working so well; or we could simply keep her as comfortable as possible for the remainder of her life on steroids alone.

unencumbered by emotion, I'd always prided myself on my practical, often utilitarian thinking. just like I thought I'd never elect to put my cat through chemotherapy, so too did I assume I would inherently know the right path at any crossroads during treatment. and once again, I had grossly miscalculated the impact that unimaginable sorrow would have on my decision making. as with every inflection point in this ill-fated choose your own adventure: cheating death on behalf of your cat, I hemmed and hawed. 

because what do you even say when faced with those choices? for so many people, the cost of life-saving or -extending care is infeasible, often for their human and animal loved ones alike. that doesn’t make the choice any easier; I suspect in many cases, it can even make finality of such a decision that much more gut-wrenching for its lack of alternatives. but we weren’t at the end of our rope, financially, nor had we apparently exhausted our options. to me, possibilities meant hope. 

just like the law, there is both a letter and spirit to interpreting a course of action. taking another route was a literal possibility, but if the guiding principle behind every decision was maintaining a good quality of life for meatball, then pursuing that path had to be in service of her best interest.

as usual, I asked the doctor, “what do you think is reasonable?” it was a cop-out, maybe, and one that flirted with unduly burdening her, but I trusted dr. regan to give me an objective response. she had already let me know that there was no shame, no defeat, in simply keeping the princess comfortable from the outset. this was her life’s work and her speciality; in the absence of known monetary hurdles, which we’d define if and when the expense became untenable, she could more readily chart the boundaries into moot territory. she could be meatball’s health advocate in a way my heart might not allow me to be.

this time, dr. regan did not recommend the alternative treatment. we agreed to take the middle ground of administering the elspar once again, and then every three weeks until it was no longer effective. in conjunction with the daily prednisolone, dr. regan said it would likely give her a few more weeks of good-quality life. 

this time, when we picked meatball up from treatment, it was a different nurse who carried her out into the parking lot and into my arms. she asked me if I had paid over the phone (I had) and said the doctor wanted to see meatball again in three weeks’ time. I asked if they would schedule us ahead of time, as they’d done before. “we’ll call you,” she said, and it felt non-committal under the sag of meatball’s carrier. 

they never called. not that it mattered; it was obvious to us that the elspar was no longer effective. meatball seemed stable enough in the following week. then, the week after, she started a noticeable decline. 

it hurts to think about the degradation of her quality of life at all, let alone in detail, but honoring meatball’s life means honoring all of her life, the hard parts included. she’d developed chronic diarrhea and was vomiting once a day. we reasoned that she was still eating, still purring, still perky. we ordered her high-fiber food and probiotic supplements. we babied her incessantly, and she ate it up. but starting that weekend, it became clearer that she wouldn’t make it to that next appointment; the one we never even made.

on sunday, she’d barely eaten. she had grown so fearful and resistant to her steroids, that the process of medicating her became traumatic for us all. after a very early and reasonably hearty breakfast, she vomited many hours later, in a voluminous splash that sounded like a hefty water balloon tossed onto the tile, all full of partially-digested food and mucus. it was then that josh made the call to the in-home euthanasia service, and we somehow agreed to a 1pm appointment the following day, gasping for breath between sobs. 

usually after she’d throw up, meatball would want to turn back around and eat again. this time, she retreated quietly outside to rest in the sun. when she ultimately came back in at night, the light in her eyes had visibly dulled. she enjoyed a few freeze-dried salmon treats from josh’s hand, but little else. I made her a nest out of a large cardboard box and a duvet cover, where she spent most of the night and the next morning, tucked away.

in the middle of the night, she heard josh get up to use the bathroom. like she often did when he rose at night, she followed him. only this time, she wanted to eat a full meal. he sat with her, petting her while she devoured her late-night dinner, listening to her purr rattle in her tiny chest before she curled up with him in bed. then, after giving him that last gift, she crawled into her box-nest and stayed until morning. 

I didn’t get up with the two of them that night, though I treasure the memory of her little crunching sounds echoing in the hallway. it’s a bittersweet feeling of happiness, tinged with sorrow; I wish that I had joined them in that last moment of meatball being meatball, but at the same time, I’m happy that they had a moment of shared tenderness and vulnerability. sometimes, knowing and observing is enough. in this case, it has to be.

in the morning, I laid on the floor in front of her corrugated hut -- another property to add to her empire, and proof that anything could be a bed to meatball. she’d bunched herself up against the back of the box and when she changed positions, slowly and methodically, we saw that she’d urinated in her sleep. as far as we could know, it was the first time since her formal diagnosis. cats are clean and prideful animals, but meatball was always immaculate. while it wasn’t embarrassing for her to soil herself, it was surely unpleasant, if not outright vexing.

as painful as it is to relive the loss of her life, hashing out the loss of her trust is somehow harder. over the last two or three days, she’d been especially wary of me. it seemed any affection she had left was reserved for josh, whom I'd intentionally positioned as the “good guy,” swooping in with treats and affection after I'd administer her daily steroid. selfishly, pitifully, I needed absolution before her passing.

so, against that damnably practical nature of mine, I put a small pillow on the floor and curled up near her, careful not to block her exit route. her eyes were dull and wide; she had little interest in anything but managing her own discomfort. I tried my hardest not to cry too much. and I spoke to her.

it’s important to note that my family believes in a lot of weird shit. at least, that’s how I always saw it. as a kid, my dad would talk to me about animals having a shared soul and collective conscious. a few years ago, my aunt had gone on safari in africa and met a purported interspecies communicator; she’s now convinced she can talk to animals telepathically. and while I can neither validate or invalidate their beliefs, I can say that, at bare minimum, talking to meatball helped me. I hope it helped her, too.

I started to tell her an abbreviated version of her life story as I knew it, and as I’ve written about it. I told her that she was one of the best things to ever happen to us, and I meant it. I told her that her legacy would live on with us, and that we would never forget about her. I told her that I wasn’t going to let her suffer any longer, and that I was so proud of how strong and brave she was, and that I only ever wished to help her. I told her that all of us did everything we could; the we knew she needed us to be strong; and that help was on the way for her. I told her how much I loved her, and how much I would miss her, but that both josh and I would be okay. I told her that it was okay for her to go, that she could rest, and that we would be here for her always. 

as I spoke to her, she slow-blinked a few times, an homage to the fond way with which she’d regard us when we complimented her, petted her, sang songs about her, or even asked her questions she couldn’t very well answer. when I was done, I asked her to forgive me. and for the first time in days, she leaned down to my outstretched hand and gave my fingers a lick.

perhaps I'm guilty of anthropomorphizing; maybe I sound like a quack. but somehow, meatball always knew what we needed. and even if she couldn’t understand my words, she seemed to know that I needed her love and acceptance in that moment. (and of course, I promptly lost my shit, cried, and thanked her profusely for her grace).

another hour or so passed in the box before she got up, walked to her water dish, and then promptly exited the human house through the propped-open back door, entering her domain for the last time. 

meatball was weak; a shadow of her usual self. she was gaunt, frail, and visibly tired. but she relaxed in her summer house one last time. she sat on the cushioned bench where she used to perch next to josh, grooming herself while he’d read. and then, one last time, she came to lie with us in the grass, on a blanket in the sun. 

among the aversions she’d developed during her bout with lymphoma, she most distrusted the sight of the two of us together. to her, it meant we were going to tag team getting her to her her appointments, and she was not having that. but she relaxed and allowed us both a spot on the blanket. she no longer purred, but she gave us both a few final head-butts. she licked my nose one last time, despite the taste of sunblock I'd slathered on. and she let us pet her for hours, until the doctor -- the last doctor in a sea of too many medical professionals -- arrived. 

by this point, meatball had grown suspicious. she could sense our combined anxiety; having to don face masks didn’t help ease her skepticism. I went to greet the doctor and go over logistics. by the time I escorted her into the back yard, meatball was back on her bench, next to josh, where she loved to be. 

while friendly and infinitely loving, the princess was feral at heart. we’d spent a long time socializing her, but she really only had eyes for us two. she feared other humans, especially humans dressed like doctors, and we, in turn, feared that she would try to make a break for it at the sight of dr. cheung. the nightmare scenario was that meatball would spend her last moments afraid, and being forced out of hiding by the two people she loved.

meatball tensed lightly as the gentle doctor approached, but seemed to relax just as quickly. we went through the paperwork. we picked out an urn. we tried to give meatball some ice cream, but she was too sick for it. then, the doctor gave her the first shot, a combination of morphine and general anesthesia.

being true to meatball’s legacy and experience, and without having the human words to share her thoughts, I can safely say that meatball fucking hated that shot. for a brief, wild moment as her angry yowl culminated in a fierce hiss, my brain panicked with thoughts of, “these are her last conscious moments and they are filled with fury and betrayal.” she tried to run off, up the stairs and onto the deck, towards the house. she made it up, but not inside; the drugs worked quickly, and Josh and I followed her with reassurances. 

honestly, I can’t remember what either of us said. I don’t know if it mattered. I think we both petted her. I think we both told her we loved her. and she began to settle, the drugs taking her pain and discomfort away. she eased into a peaceful sleep. at some point, I became painfully aware of my face mask filling up with snot. I felt like I was choking for air. I worried I would pass out there next to her.

dr. cheung clearly felt bad about meatball’s reaction. she came and tenderly folded a soft blanket under meatball’s little head. she let us sit and pet her for awhile. while we’d been forewarned, the sight of meatball’s beautiful, but unseeing eyes was disconcerting for me. I forced myself to look anyway.

her breathing was even and steady for the first time in days, unburdened by pain or nausea. her little front paw twitched involuntarily. dr. cheung, comforting us as well as herself, I suspect, told us, “if she knew from the start that we were giving her a peaceful end to her suffering, she would have held her leg out willingly.” then, even more quietly, she said, “I can feel the lumps in her belly. there are so many.” 

I don’t know how much time we took, holding each other and crying, petting meatball and repeating assurances that she couldn’t hear, much less comprehend. I clipped a few tufts of belly fur off of her while she slept, a practice that felt mildly violative but still preferable to defilement of a corpse. at some point, not too long after, we gave the doctor the okay to administer the euthanasia. 

maybe I'm a coward, but I couldn’t watch meatball take her last breath. I held her front paw, the one that had twitched, the entire time. seconds (minutes?) later, dr. cheung held her stethoscope to meatball’s chest and said quietly, “she has passed.” I opened my eyes to look at hers, which had dilated unnaturally under the bright sky. part of me sincerely wishes I hadn’t burned that last image into my brain; still, I didn’t look at her belly, no longer rising and falling in the gentle cadence of calm breath. I buried my face in josh’s shoulder and kept hold of meatball’s little paw until we signaled dr. cheung to take her. 

as soul-crushing as it is to hold your pet while they breathe their last, to sit with their little body in death, to feel the oppressive weight of finality descend upon you, and to be so painfully raw and vulnerable in front of a stranger, it came with a sense of relief for an end to her struggle. 

from her perch on the top step, the doctor slowly -- so very slowly -- removed the blanket from under meatball’s head and laid it out on the deck next to her. she gently shimmied the waterproof pad under meatball’s backside and used it to carefully lift her onto the blanket, supporting her head and she went. although meatball would not have known, in death, if she’d emptied her bowels, we were glad for her sake that she hadn’t. this day, she did not vomit. she went to the bathroom moments before the doctor had arrived. 

dr. cheung swaddled meatball like an infant in her arms, leading us out to the back of her SUV where she lowered the bundle of meatball into a lined basket; a baby in a bassinet. finally, she peeled the blanket back from meatball’s little face so we could see her one last time, at peace, with yet another bed to her name -- as was her way.

life after meatball

meatball died on monday, december 21, 2020 at approximately 1:30pm. it was the winter solstice, and a day that marked the great conjunction of jupiter and saturn. somewhere, some sect surely believed this would be the day the world would end; for me, it may as well have been. 

that may seem melodramatic, even to an avowed animal lover, but if you were lucky enough to be loved by meatball, it would feel like the understatement it is. 

everywhere you were, there was meatball: loud, expressive, and a little bossy at times. she was so talkative, never minding the fact that we spoke in different tongues. over time, she only seemed to grow louder and more insistent, her meow often being mistaken for a screaming child in the background. strangely, she relished receiving pets while she ate. in fact, she would often consume her meal with more gusto once she had a hand gliding down her back and a familiar human voice praising her, bestowing formal recognition upon her as the very good eater that she was. we joked, once, that we’d created a monster by coddling her so; it seemed that after years of indulging her, well, indulgent behavior, she began requiring an audience for her meals. 

demanding though she may have been, she gave back a thousandfold. every time we returned home, always entering through the back yard, she would greet us enthusiastically, meowing and chirping and sticking her little face through the gap between the gate and the side of the house. she knew the sounds of our footfalls and the scent of our presence drawing nearer. oftentimes we wouldn’t make it through the door without showering her with affection, petting her belly while she rolled around on the ground, flipping back and forth and purring.

our PDA didn’t hold a candle to hers, though. meatball was a connoisseur of hand hugs, stretching out her limbs while we’d stroke her chest, then retracting them in a firm embrace around the hand whosever hand was tending her, nuzzling her face into the touch with a small, accompanying squeal, eyes squeezed shut. she loved to kiss and be kissed; we would take turns kissing the patch of golden fur on her forehead before presenting our own faces, upon which she graciously reciprocated the act. 

but she needed no invitation to lavish you with licks from her sandpaper tongue. meatball would approach the both of us at eye level and lick our foreheads, cheeks, noses, chins, and hair, wholly unsolicited. to this day, and for at least the year prior, I’ve sported a perpetual small, circular red spot at the tip of my otherwise bloodless nose; a physical testament to her unending devotion. earlier this year, I had resolved to discourage meatball kisses in the hopes that the mark, so obvious against my pale flesh, would eventually go away. it’s thoughts like those that make me feel so sick and sad. fortunately, I lacked the resolve to keep her at bay for long.

meatball loved to press her forehead against yours; rub the side of her face against yours; nuzzle you unabashedly and for absolutely no discernible reason. if you held a book or beverage or device in your hands, well, she would head-butt your hands and whatever thing that occupied them. at the risk of assigning human motivations to a tabby cat, we never got the sense that meatball’s sole objective was commanding your attention. rather, meatball was a cat that took matters into her own paws: if your fingers weren’t available for caressing her, she’d pet herself on them while you went about your business.

similarly, meatball could make her own fun. she never lacked for toys (or cardboard boxes), but when her mortal nemesis, rainbow snake, was nowhere to be found, she would just... attack the blankets. or the grass. or launch herself at a piece of furniture. 

more than anything in the world, meatball loved life. her vigor went beyond the unmistakable survival instinct that connects humans and animals by a spiritual thread; everything captivated meatball. every sound, every smell, every sun beam, every breeze, every little movement or flash of light. she took such joy in drinking fresh rainwater out of the divots in the deck; in watching the squirrels run along the fence; in being brushed; in receiving treats of any sort; in having one of us spoon her wherever she lay.

to write about her like this almost makes her seem needy; to the contrary, she was fiercely independent and happy to be part of the action without inserting herself at its center. she wasn’t a lap cat, but she was a lover through and through. and while concepts like time and gratitude were much too human to project unto her, I know that she spent the rest of her short life expressing her gratefulness to us for having saved her. I felt her thanks in every lick, every slow blink, every purr. 

2020 was a tough fucking year for so many people. I know that josh and I are among the luckiest of the bunch: we didn’t get sick, none of our human friends or family members fell ill, and both of us were able to work from home. we have good neighbors, a big back yard (that meatball generously let us use), and live in the heart of silicon valley, where we could have everything delivered to us with relative speed and ease.

but comparing the suffering of one human to another is apples to oranges. despite our position of relative privilege, we suffered heavily under the demands of our respective jobs. like everyone else, we were robbed of our routines, unable to see friends or be part of the community in the ways that we so enjoyed: the farmer’s markets, local coffee shops and restaurants, our favorite small businesses, and even the occasional trip to the coast. the stress of us politics and global events weighed on us. quarantine was depressing, the world was depressing, and life as we knew it just... changed. it was ok to grieve that loss.

the one bright spot: we could spend more time with our pets. meatball, in particular, loved this. for one, it meant that she wouldn’t have to choose between indoors and outside; we would leave the back door propped open with the metal, cat-shaped doorstop, allowing her an easy transition between spaces at will. it also meant that we could take lunches and breaks with her out on the patio or in the grass. and if she wanted a morsel or two of food she wouldn’t otherwise get outside -- we didn’t want to attract ants or other critters, after all -- well, then, that was just a bonus.

the sensible part of me is glad that we had this time together, in light of her diagnosis. it allowed us to be present for her and to maximize the remainder of her life with us. it also gave us flexibility with scheduling medication and feedings, and the peace of mind that we would always be around with her if a complication arose. 

the irrationally angry, still-grieving part of me is so unbelievably gutted that the universe saw fit to take away my one silver lining of this fucking pandemic. that, by acknowledging what was most important to me, I somehow doomed her to be taken away. 

and I know, I know: it’s better to have loved and lost. barring another tragedy, I knew we’d both outlive meatball, and that even another decade with her wouldn't have been long enough. I know she’ll live on in our hearts; I know that loving her made us better people. but right now, I'm struggling to breathe under the crushing, suffocating, unfathomable absence of her. the back yard is overwhelming in its energy and the absoluteness of never hearing her curious and joyful meows again.

because for all the routines we’d abruptly given up in march of this year, meatball so often was the routine. it might not sound rational or healthy to say, but in many ways, our day-to-day life revolved around meatball (and our other pets, past and present). despite my misgivings about enabling outdoor cats, meatball’s origin story made it entirely impractical for us to imprison her in a house, and the assortment of california fauna that might scrabble its way indoors in her stead had rendered the possibility of a cat door equally futile (to say nothing of the fact that we’ve been renting for the last five years, anyway). this meant that meatball needed a perpetual doorwoman at her beck and call; apparently, this was my true life’s work.

it would be dishonest of me to suggest I always accommodated her willingly and happily. leaving the door open was fine during the day, but at night, we’d close and lock it. if meatball wanted inside, she would have to yell to get our attention, scratch mercilessly at the back door, or both in tandem. 

sometimes it would only be once a night. more often, it would be two, three, or even four times she’d want in and out: to get a bite of food, to cuddle in the warmth of the bed, or for some unfathomable, attention-seeking reason I couldn’t comprehend at 3am. sometimes I groused about it; occasionally, I would have a meltdown about it. but I always did it. I never wanted meatball to feel like she would be abandoned by us or that she couldn’t have access to food or fresh water. similarly, and despite the obvious toll the cumulative sleep loss took on my health, I wanted reassurance that she hadn’t been captured by a nocturnal predator, hadn’t ventured outside of the yard and gotten herself injured or worse, and wasn’t suffering in an unexpected storm or drop in overnight temperature. and if she was in some sort of trouble, then I would never forgive myself for sleeping through her distress.

so many other rituals revolved around meatball’s wants and needs (or our various interpretations of them). she would wait outside the bathroom door if you were in it, waiting to be greeted. she would frequent “treat station,” a grassroots cat treat co-op sprung up from the bench at our dining room table where she’d sit and wait silently for one of us to give her some goodies. she would simply sit between us on the couch at night, watching whatever was happening on the big screen while her humans were preoccupied with their small screens, taking turns at absently petting her. 

her loss is felt in every corner of this property. I struggle to resume the search for a house to purchase, because leaving here means leaving a part of her behind. we can open the back door and glance two paces ahead at the spot where she died, a few of her little hairs sitting dormant until the next rainfall. we can take with us the furniture and the many blankets she loved, but the yard she owned and championed, the space where she lived her best until she ultimately perished, cannot be taken with us.

the ugliest side of grief

writing this out has been cathartic, in many ways, and painful as a motherfucker in others; I don’t know that the two are mutually exclusive. but still, it feels like the journey through inexplicable loss has just begun.

the thing is, we were trapped in a cycle of mourning for meatball with no foreseeable closure until now -- and even now, truth be told. cold fear had me gripped in the weeks leading up to her diagnosis, bone chillingly aware of how bad a sign unexplained weight loss was in cats. we feared we’d lose her before her treatment would even begin. then, her incredible response gave us such hope. we wept and grieved when she lost her voice; we cried any time she showed a sign of illness or discomfort. we knew that we couldn’t save her life; only buy her some time and solace. 

I used to think that when meatball did eventually pass -- innumerable years into an abstract future, as I'd imagined it then -- I would have no regrets about the life we provided for her. and on the whole, I really don’t. right now -- today and all days following her passing, though hopefully someday with decreased frequency -- I struggle with the kind of guilt only wrought from hindsight.

was there anything I could have done differently? was I not careful enough in administering her medication? did the droplets that leaked from the corners of her mouth or ricocheted off the insides of her cheeks make a difference of weeks or months? should I have at least tried the alternative treatment? was there anything else I could have done for her pain? should I have called the vet about her diarrhea and vomiting sooner? 

if I knew that princess meatball would die on december 21, 2020, would I have still explored all of the treatment options I did? was it worth it?

did she know how much I loved her?

did I force her to prolong her suffering on my account?

so many of these questions have answers I can’t possibly know. I know that I did my best; we both did. I know that we gave her a merciful end, even if she was angry about the needle part at first. I know that she isn’t suffering any more. yes, we could have called a day or two sooner and prevented any further decline; but with her ability to rebound after a bad day, it felt almost premature. I feel absolutely certain that the timing was right based the information we had. 

she knew that I loved her, even if she couldn’t understand why I constantly subjected her to things she didn’t like. she knew that I didn’t like those things either, I think. whether there was anything I did or didn’t do: who knows? everything I did for her was out of pure love, and for most of the treatment cycles, she was relatively comfortable and happy. she didn't like going to the vet, but she loved sitting on my lap for the car ride home. she hated her medicine, but she enjoyed being rewarded with tuna water and brushes under her chin. the treatment side effects, when they did manifest, were mild and few. and for awhile, we saw her enjoy herself as she used to. 

her loss is profound, and it chokes me throughout the day. I want to fight against fate, or give up and die, too. but that would be very silly of me to do, when a little tabby cat who weighed no more than five and a half pounds at the time of her death could fight so hard to stay alive for her people.

rest well, my golden-crowned princess. your light lives on in us.  

[alexiaestatec21soldteam]

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Decks And Patios

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Tile Installation

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[luxuryhomeremodel]

PLANNING FOR LUXURY SWIMMING POOL PROJECT

If you build home pool in this year this is very beneficial for you. While social distancing measures are still advised nationwide, many homeowners are working to make their homes as fun, relaxing, elegant, and motivating as possible. Swimming pools have all the above covered. And if you hire a luxury pool constructor in San Jose CA, you can craft the perfect swimming pool for your tastes.

Just follow this guide to make your dream pool a reality.

Here are the steps to planning and designing your 2020 swimming pool project.

PLACEMENT

Your first step when beginning your pool construction project is to select the best place to position it. Where is the best spot in your backyard to place your pool? Imagine the pool having a center point, and then expand from there. How much space can you sacrifice for a pool? Remember that you’ll need to leave room for a deck, landscaping, and some open lawn area, too. A swimming pool shouldn’t eat up an entire backyard.

Imagine a birds-eye view of your backyard. Where would the pool be located, and roughly how would it be shaped? Next, walk out of your back door to your patio, deck, or porch. Where, from this standpoint, would it look beautiful to set your pool? These initial steps can guide the approximate size you have in mind, as well as its shape, orientation, and general theme. You can even set down objects like stakes to mark how large you’d like your pool to be. Don’t worry about selecting all of the design elements rights now.

CHALLENGES

Next, think about any potential challenges to your pool design project. Are trees or large shrubs in the way? What about gas or electrical lines? Are any plumbing systems in the way? Remember that these challenges can add to your pool construction costs, so try to work around as many of these obstacles as possible. Also, think about the slope of your pool. You’ll need a flat portion of your backyard, and ideally, water should flow away from the deck rather than toward it. Some changes can be made, but the more changes you make, the more costly your project will likely be.

THEME

Next, think about theming your pool. What type of pool do you have in mind? Think about your motivation for installing a pool in the first place. Do you want a pool primarily for outdoor recreation and exercise? Your swimming pool should have a long, rectangular, and simple shape without too much worry. Do you want to entertain on a beautiful pool deck? Your pool should have a beautiful shape but shouldn’t be too large. You should actually ask your pool builder to construct an oversized deck that surrounds the pool. Are you just building a pool to add value to your home? Consider building a classic kidney-shaped pool with simple colors that will appeal to most of the buying market.

CONTRACTOR

Lastly, you need a reliable Luxury Swimming Pool Construction--one with a great reputation, custom design teams, and access to long-lasting and quality pool construction materials. Luxury Home Remodeling is your resource for planning and building the perfect pool this year. Call us today to discuss your budget, timeline, and the ideas you formulate with the above tips. We’ll get right to work on making your dream pool a reality.

[porchbrokenarrow83-blog]

Instead Of Having To Replace Drains

Instead Of Having To Replace Drains

A skilled plumber in San Jose should be immediately called, when you notice water dripping out of your faucet. A leaking faucet indicates there is a seepage from the water pipe. Therefore, it should be immediately examined what exactly is troubling your water pipes. A skilled and experienced plumber can carefully analyze and inspect your plumbing system to get to the root cause of the problem. Based upon his investigation, he would suggest you necessary steps to be taken in order to prevent further loss and damage. Figuring out what is troubling your plumbing system is only half the battle. But troubleshooting the problem completely is like winning battle. Most of the DIY lovers, get to find to point source of the problem with a rod in their hand and end up increasing the troubles. If you do not have knowledge, you should not mess up with your plumbing as it can increase your miseries. Instead, call a plumber in San Jose, who would fix the problem completely so that you do not face any troubles. Not only in case of leakages or blockages, but should pick up a maintenance plan with your plumber, who will regularly come to inspect the condition of your plumbing system. It will help you avoid paying extra expenses and also keep your system in the tip top condition. Therefore, if it has been years, since you have got your plumbing system checked, then it’s high time for you to call in a professional, who would update you on the current condition of your plumbing system.

Choosing the right plumbing repair expert can seem like a complicated proposition, but with a bit of knowledge and leg work, it's easier than you think. Here's what you need to know before choosing your next plumber. Whether youre looking to sell your home or just want to spruce it up a bit, there are times in every remodeling project when you need to call in the experts. In the case of some kitchen and bathroom jobs, this means hiring a plumber. Getting Widmers Carpet Cleaning Division for the job can be a bit difficult, but knowing what to ask for can make the process considerably easier on both your nerves, and your wallet. First, look at the overall job, and figure out exactly what you need the professional to do. Then, check with friends, family members, co-workers to see who had a similar task to complete, and which plumbing company they chose to handle it. If that doesnt work, you can always check the local phone book and call around until you find one to your liking.

Cincinnati Carpet Cleaning: 2950 Robertson Ave, Cincinnati, OH 45209

Toilet water bubbles when you run the sink

Allow yourself the time to get the job done

Evaluate the reasons behind the damage, there should be one

Mineral buildup

The trade or occupation of a plumber

2 Jandy Valve Actuators

10 Useful Plumbing & Maintenance Tips (in no particular order)

Architect fees that total up to 10%-18% of the total cost of the project

Gas Leaks If you don't already know, gas can be dangerous. Gas is very useful for powering appliances but if it's leaking in your home it is a health risk to everyone in your home. If you don't already know, gas can be dangerous. Gas is very useful for powering appliances but if it's leaking in your home it is a health risk to everyone in your home. Gas is a flammable substance. If you inhale natural or propane gas it is harmful to people. That is why you need to make sure gas lines are installed by professionals to reduce risks of gas leaks. Obviously leaks happen because pipes don't last forever. So as soon as you think you have a gas leak you need to follow safety procedures. Some signs of gas leaks are hissing sounds, the smell of rotten eggs, or a patch dead or dying plants. Once you have noticed any one of these signs you should evacuate everyone from your home and turn off your gas. Once you have gotten everyone out and turned off the gas you need to call a gas expert. The gas expert will know how to locate the gas leak using a electronic gas sniffer. This is state of the art gas detection equipment. Once they find the leak they will repair it quickly and get you back in your home. If you try to repair the gas pipe yourself, you may make the situation or just temporarily fix it. So trusting a certified gas technician is the best route to take when dealing with a gas leak. If You Have A Gas Leak, Don't Delay! Get It Repaird ASAP.

A sense of joy can come from the motion of slipping into a bubble bath or standing beneath a soothing shower at the end of a long day. When one considers the alternative there should be a deep appreciation felt for the 'luxury' of indoor bathroom facilities, made possible by that beautiful system of pipes known simply as plumbing. Most people today would find it hard to comprehend a home without indoor plumbing, but a mere one hundred years ago a bathroom was not a standard feature in all homes. A hand pump in the kitchen sink and an outhouse in the backyard were more common place in that era. Todays homes are equipped with master bathrooms outfitted with spa tubs, steam showers and saunas, as well as heated towel racks and radiant heat floors, and even the occasional fireplace or flat screen television. Plumbing requirements have transformed over the past decades from knowledge of how to fix a leak, snake a clogged drain or repair the overflowing toilet to an ability to comprehend varying degrees of science. Multi-head showers, radiant floors, anti-scald steam showers and tankless water heaters, to name just a few of the requests made these days.

[jmaddox542]

New Post has been published on Jacksonville FL Real Estate

4114 Sierra Madre Dr South , JACKSONVILLE FL 32217 - Real Estate - For Sale -

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4114 Sierra Madre Dr South , JACKSONVILLE FL 32217 Real Estate For Sale Newly remodeled 42 bath home in San Jose Manor. Great concrete block home on large lot. Remodeled in 2014. New kitchen with stainless steel appliances, beautiful laminate wood flooring in all living areas including the kitchen. Extra large laundry room near the kitchen. New roof, new HVAC system. Extra large bonus room that can be used for a office or family room. Fully fenced backyard with large storage shed. Great location, near San Jose and Phillips Hwy, convenient to shopping, schools and churches. Don’t miss this one !

Janelle Bales COLDWELL BANKER VANGUARD REALTY (904) 655-9859 janellebales@yahoo.com

For more information on this property go here:

Or feel free to contact me here:

- http://jacksonvilleflrealestate.co/jax/4114-sierra-madre-dr-south-jacksonville-fl-32217-real-estate-for-sale/

[nuhome-remodeling]

From Dull to Delightful: How to Add Color to Your San Jose Backyard Remodel

When it comes to backyard remodeling in San Jose, adding color can be a game-changer. Here are some effective techniques and ideas to help you infuse color into your San Jose backyard remodel and bring your outdoor space to life.

[ccpropertymanagement]

Beautifully Remodeled Family Home

Coming available is a gorgeous 3 bedroom 2 bath family home in San Jose. This home is in a quiet and safe neighborhood of the Foothill Area near Alum Rock Park, shopping, restaurants, major highways and light rail. This Home Features: ***Hardwood Floors ***Remodeled Kitchen ***Spacious Fenced Backyard ***Central AC/ Heat ***Walk in Closets ***Private Balcony For Master Suite ***Beautiful San Jose Valley Views Applications online at ccrentalpro.com

[topinforma]

New Post has been published on Mortgage News

New Post has been published on http://bit.ly/2hqkdBy

Hot Property: Fanning out across the nation

Even though Hollywood makes L.A. and environs a celebrity magnet, not all the big real estate action plays out within the City of Angels. This week’s selection includes California deals of note in the O.C. and San Jose.

Elsewhere, there’s a horse farm owned by a box-office draw that’s up for auction in Kentucky, and the old stomping grounds of an Oscar-winning actress changes hands in Connecticut.

Once you’re done checking out these star-studded transactions, visit and like our Facebook page, where you can find Hot Property stories and updates throughout the week. That’s also a great place to leave a tip about a celebrity home deal on the QT.

– Neal J. Leitereg and Lauren Beale

Plenty of room for Madea

Actor and filmmaker Tyler Perry has purchased a home in gated Mulholland Estates for $14.5 million through a corporate entity.

The modern house, built in 1992, sits on more than 4 acres. Steel beams and walls of tempered glass form the shell of the home, which features overlapping slabs of marble and floating staircases.

Pyramid-shaped skylights and angled ceilings bring light into the 17,245 square feet of living space. Interiors include living and dining rooms, a media room, an office/den, seven bedrooms and 11 bathrooms.

A resort-style swimming pool, a stream-fed koi pond and a tennis court complete the grounds. Party ready, the motor court off the entrance has space for more than 30 vehicles.

Perry, 47, is known for his recurring role as Madea in such films as “Diary of a Mad Black Woman,” “Madea’s Witness Protection” and “Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Neighbors From Hell.”

He created the television shows “House of Payne” and “If Loving You Is Wrong,” now in its fourth season.

Nick Springett

The modern mansion, built in 1992, sits on more than 4 acres in gated Mulholland Estates.

The modern mansion, built in 1992, sits on more than 4 acres in gated Mulholland Estates.

(Nick Springett)

Hepburn’s playground

Katharine Hepburn’s onetime summer retreat in Old Saybrook, Conn., has sold for $11.5 million. We can just picture the four-time Academy Award winner curled up in a chair at the front window watching a storm blow in across Long Island Sound.

The 8,400-square-foot Colonial-style home was built for the actress in 1939 and used by the “African Queen” star for decades as a family retreat.

Encompassing 1.5 acres, the waterfront estate centers on a renovated three-story home with seven fireplaces, six bedrooms and 7.5 bathrooms. Some 220 feet of beachfront, a dock and a pond complete the grounds.

Aaron Thompson

The onetime vacation home of actress Katharine Hepburn has sold in Old Saybrook, Conn., for $11.5 million.

The onetime vacation home of actress Katharine Hepburn has sold in Old Saybrook, Conn., for $11.5 million.

(Aaron Thompson)

Back at the ranch

Actor Johnny Depp hasn’t found a buyer for his Kentucky horse farm, currently listed at $2.9 million, so he’s put it up for auction Sept. 15.

Set outside Lexington, the property centers on a 1915 brick residence with six bedrooms and 5,944 square feet of living space.

There’s also a guest house, three barns, 15 stalls and 10 watered paddocks for horses. Four cars or tractors can fit into the oversized garage.

The “Pirates of the Caribbean” star, a Kentucky native, bought the farm for $950,000 in 1995, sold it for $1 million in 2001 and then bought it back for $2 million in 2005.

Keni Parks Photography

Johnny Depp’s horse farm in Kentucky, previously listed for $2.9 million, will go up for auction in September.

Johnny Depp’s horse farm in Kentucky, previously listed for $2.9 million, will go up for auction in September.

(Keni Parks Photography)

Ending her reign

Model-actress Ali Landry and her husband, filmmaker Alejandro Monteverde, have sold their home in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles for $1.95 million.

The Spanish-style house, built in 1927, features hardwood and rustic tile floors, stained-glass windows and offbeat features. Bright tilework lines the arched entry alcove as well as a fountain/spa in the backyard.

Formal living and dining rooms, five bedrooms and five bathrooms are within 3,200 square feet of space. An attached guest suite has a full kitchen and a separate entrance.

Landry, 44, is a former Miss USA. Monteverde, 40, has film credits that include “Bella” (2006) and “Little Boy” (2015).

Rodeo Realty | Inset: Getty Images

Ali Landry and her husband, filmmaker Alejandro Monteverde, have sold their Los Feliz home for $1.95 million.

Ali Landry and her husband, filmmaker Alejandro Monteverde, have sold their Los Feliz home for $1.95 million.

(Rodeo Realty | Inset: Getty Images)

Chargers GM scores in the O.C.

Tom Telesco, general manager of the L.A. Chargers, bought a Newport Beach home from baseball-player-turned-television analyst Jim Edmonds and his wife, “Real Housewives of Orange County” personality Meghan King Edmonds, for $2.998 million.

The remodeled two-story, updated since it was built in 2010, has more than 5,500 square feet of living space including formal living and dining rooms, a great room, five bedrooms and six bathrooms.

French doors on the main floor open to outdoor living space, where hedges surround a patio area. A three-car garage sits at the back of the home.

Realtor.com | Inset: Associated Press

L.A. Chargers general manager Tom Telesco was the buyer of former baseball player Jim Edmonds and “Real Housewives of Orange County” personality Meghan King Edmonds’ Newport Beach home.

L.A. Chargers general manager Tom Telesco was the buyer of former baseball player Jim Edmonds and “Real Housewives of Orange County” personality Meghan King Edmonds’ Newport Beach home.

(Realtor.com | Inset: Associated Press)

Retiring his residence

Former 49ers linebacker Patrick Willis is asking $5.5 million for his Mediterranean-style house in San Jose – $500,000 less than when he originally put it on the market in 2015.

Not to worry — he purchased the home in 2010 for $3.5 million, according to public records.

Sitting on 4.3 acres with views of the surrounding city and mountains, the 9,878-square-foot home has a wine cellar, a theater, a game room and four bedrooms.

After playing for Ole Miss, Willis, 32, spent his career with the 49ers and retired in 2015.

Redfin.com

Former 49ers defensive star Patrick Willis is asking $5.5 million for a 9,900-square-foot home in San Jose.

Former 49ers defensive star Patrick Willis is asking $5.5 million for a 9,900-square-foot home in San Jose.

(Redfin.com)

His favorite room

L.A. Opera President Christopher Koelsch carves out calmer moments at the Arts District townhouse loft he shares with husband Todd Bentjen and their dog, Franklin. His favorite “room” is the unit’s third floor, open-plan space that includes the kitchen, dining and living rooms, with its exposed brick, hardwood floors and ample supply of art books.

[nuhome-remodeling]

10 Must-Have Features for a Modern Kitchen Remodel in San Jose

A modern kitchen remodel can transform an outdated, dull space into a functional and stylish hub of the home. With the latest technology, materials, and design elements, homeowners in San Jose are upgrading their kitchens to make them both practical and visually appealing.

In this blog post, we will explore ten must-have features to consider when planning renovation with your kitchen remodeling contractor in San Jose.

Smart kitchen appliances: Smart kitchen appliances are designed to automate and simplify daily tasks, including cooking, cleaning, and food storage. They can include refrigerators, ovens, cooktops, and dishwashers that are Wi-Fi enabled, voice-activated, and mobile app-controlled. These appliances can make cooking and entertaining in the kitchen hassle-free and enjoyable.

Innovative lighting: Modern kitchens use innovative lighting to create a warm and inviting atmosphere. The lighting can be installed under cabinets, inside drawers, and over kitchen islands to highlight the most used areas and create a comfortable ambiance. Motion sensor lighting can also make it convenient to access your kitchen at any time.

Energy-efficient solutions: Energy-efficient appliances, windows, and lighting are a great way to reduce energy bills and protect the environment while enjoying an updated kitchen. LED lighting, double-paned windows, and Energy Star-rated appliances can help homeowners in San Jose save energy and money while minimizing their environmental footprint.

Functional storage: Adequate storage is essential for any kitchen. Homeowners can opt for custom-built cabinets and shelving, pull-out drawers, and pantry units to maximize their storage space. Consider installing open shelves to showcase decorative items and keep frequently used items within reach.

Quartz countertops: Quartz countertops are a popular choice in modern kitchen remodels. They are durable, low-maintenance, and available in various colors and patterns to complement any design style. They are also moisture and heat-resistant, making them an ideal choice for busy kitchens.

Versatile kitchen islands: Kitchen islands can serve multiple functions, such as additional workspace, storage, seating, and even cooking surfaces. Incorporating a custom-made kitchen island can add versatility and character to the kitchen.

Stylish backsplash: Modern kitchens often feature a stylish and functional backsplash. Homeowners can choose from a variety of materials, such as ceramic or porcelain tiles, glass mosaic tiles, or natural stone. The backsplash can add visual interest and protect the walls from cooking and preparing food.

High-end hardware: Replacing old hardware with high-end options can instantly upgrade the kitchen's appearance. Consider installing new faucets, cabinet knobs, and drawer pulls made of quality materials like brushed brass, chrome, or nickel.

Hidden appliances: Concealing appliances within custom-made cabinetry can create a sleek and streamlined appearance in a modern kitchen. Dishwashers, refrigerators, and microwaves can blend seamlessly with the cabinetry to create a cohesive and uncluttered look.

Personal touches: Personalizing the kitchen with unique features like a custom-made coffee bar, built-in wine fridge, or creative wall art can create a modern and welcoming environment and reflect a homeowner's style and personality.

A modern kitchen remodel can transform a drab space into a functional, efficient, and stylish hub of the home. By incorporating smart kitchen appliances, innovative lighting, energy-efficient solutions, functional storage, quartz countertops, versatile islands, stylish backsplash, high-end hardware, hidden appliances, and personal touches, homeowners in San Jose can achieve a modern and inviting kitchen that meets their needs and preferences. Seek guidance from a professional kitchen remodel contractor in San Jose to help you design and execute the perfect update for your kitchen.

Not just for kitchen, but even if it’s your bathroom remodel or backyard remodeling in San Jose, there are several trendy and modern features and functionalities that you can integrate in the process.