Floofbot (floofinition) – a machine that waits on pets, completing menial tasks necessary for their care.

In use: “As she gave the dog another treat and prepared to take him for a walk, she said, “Sometimes I think you think I’m your floofbot.” The dog sat down and gave her a hurt look. She rushed to him and hugged his big neck, kissing his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Standing, the dog thumped his tale.”


Hummingfloof (floofinition) – a small housepet that flits around at amazing speeds, often making a humming sound as it goes by.

In use: “Bruni excelled at going from the living room sofa to the front window and back, but the little brown hummingfloof was faster than sound when the refrigerator was opened or a package was opened.”


Inflooftrate (floofinition) – an animals’ gradual, surreptitious access or entrance to gain trust or to take over a household or person.

In use: “He had no pets but he’d left a window open and a young cat had inflooftrated his house, sleeping in his favorite chair. When the cat saw him, he stood, stretched, jumped off the chair and ran over like he was greeting an old friend.”

Monday’s Theme Music

Today’s choice arrived in the stream because of a chance encounter with a friend.

I’m retired military, 1974 – 1995. He was in the Army for almost five years. Most of that time was in Vietnam. May, 1969, was his one year anniversary of being in country. It was a bloody year for him. He lost many friends. He was also nineteen.

We guessed that it was just a juxtaposition of insights that brought about the darkness dragging him down this weekend. This is twenty nineteen, which kicked off the memory of being nineteen, when he was in Vietnam fifty years ago. It’s probably because of Memorial Day, and the many men walking around with Vietnam Vet hats on their heads, and the television shows talking about different military campaigns. It could be his sense of mortality. He’s getting older, as he reminded me.

He never cried when he spoke but he did a lot of sniffing, some quick eye wipes, and sometimes coped with a trembling voice with some deep breaths. Vietnam offered some hairy days, and he was grateful to have survived without too much damage, get home, go to college under the GI Bill, marry, and have a family.

After we shook hands and went our separate ways, and I was walking under the lush green trees, past beautiful beds of colorful flowers as cars rolled by and people pursued their celebrations of Memorial Day, I started streaming an old favorite song.

Here, from nineteen seventy-four, is William DeVaughn with “Be Thankful for What You Got”.


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