Floofshaming (floofinition) – Behavior used or looks given by an animal that makes people, especially pet owners, feel ashamed or guilty.
In use: “As she sat and ate her sandwich, not even offering Brutus a sniff, the Maine Coon sat there with a floofshaming expression that caused her to turn away so she couldn’t see him.”
Floofbitis (floofinition) – Faked illness brought on by an animal’s behavior.
In use: “She called her friend and told her that she couldn’t go out because she had a flare of floofbitis. After disconnecting, she scratched her dog’s head as he slept on her lap, nibbled a piece of gouda, sipped a little Merlot, and resumed reading the latest Louise Penney novel.”
If this is Thursday, then this must be Ashland.
I chuckled at lines like that. During several times in life, I traveled a lot. First in a military life, then in a marketing life. When I traveled like that, my focus narrowed. What country-city-base-trade show am I at? What’s the agenda? Who am I meeting? Where do I go next? The actual dates little mattered, except for the travel portion. But I didn’t think of that in terms of days or dates. It was more, “I leave tomorrow” or the day after, etc, and “I go home next week.”
Anyway, this is Thursday, July 29, 2021. My wife had her teeth cleaned yesterday. She made her next cleaning appointment: 2/2/2022, at 2 PM. Yeah, it’s not a Fibonacci sequence, but it is interesting. To us, at least. Hey, it’s been slow.
Sun shine invaded at 6:01 AM. A retreat is in order commencing at 5:33 AM. Another heat dome has arrived. Although heat advisories are in effect, I thought we might be spared the heat. Clouds covered most of the AM sky. But they’ve slowly slip-slided away, leaving a hazy blue dome overhead. Like yesterday, temperatures close to 100 are anticipated. Yesterday, we clipped 98 F at our house.
“Ventura Highway” by America (1972) invaded my morning head space. Two parts of the song were speaking to me: “alligator lizards in the air” and “Come on, Joe, you can always change your name. Thanks a lot, son, just the same.”
The alligator lizards part was easy. I was looking at the morning clouds. We had scanty popcorn pieces. No alligator lizards. But it still triggered the music. The other aspect was about character names in the novel in progress. I thought that perhaps I should change two characters names. They’re not exactly the same names as friends, but close enough. They are parodies of these friends. But the name is an integral part to them. Changing their names changes my impression of them. The names stay as they are for now.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers
I began, with many other people, in a domed city. I was on the circular city’s perimeter. Spaced every six feet were covered holes. The covers were hard plastic. Opening one, I discovered water within them. My curiosity was satisfied.
We were aware that storms were going on beyond our city. It didn’t overly concern us. To the north, pieces of a golden city appeared just outside of our domed city. I, like others, stopped to marvel at it. Who built it? How was it built so quickly? Exquisite looking, with multiple levels, it already towered over our domed city. But more was being added. How was that possible?
I went with a handful of others to see more. When I reached our domed city’s northern exits, I could see that the city beyond was a holograph. There was no city, and it was pouring rain. I was baffled; why would anyone create an illusion like that? I wondered about motives and angles.
It dawned on me that we were being distracted from a danger to our domed city. Hurrying back, I returned to roughly where I’d been and pried one white lid from a hole. The water was higher, and churning. I realized, the water is rising. Our city was in danger of being flooded.
I needed to warn others. I started pointing out the holes to others. Directing them to take off the lids, I showed them how the water, now foaming with a faint yellowish tinge, was rising higher and higher. Meanwhile, a young man approached me with a U.S. military-style flight cap. He had a pen and wanted to write on it. I was baffled; why couldn’t he write on it? What did he want written? It was a joke, he explained. He wanted someone to write, ‘I went to command school and all I got was this hat.’
Not much of a joke to me. The hat had two stars on it, signifying it belonged to a major general. Instead of being silver, the stars were gold, however. That puzzled me; silver stars are always used on American insignia. I looked for a name inside the hat: Redmond. I recalled dealing with a Redmond. He’d been buying Dionne Warwick and Friends concert tickets.
The general himself appeared, a short and amiable guy with neat and wavy black hair. I encountered a handful of major generals in my Air Force career. This guy was more affable than any of them. I told him that I had his hat and exposed what the other wanted to do with it. The general thought that was a great joke. I talked about his Dionne Warwick tickets. He remembered wanting to go to the show but didn’t remember buying the tickets nor going. I recounted helping him look for the tickets, having the tickets delivered, and then a conversation with him about going to the concert. He vaguely remembered these things, he answered with a broad grin.
Meanwhile, water was almost boiling out of two of the holes and had become more yellow. I thought the yellowing was a serious sign of something being breached, based on a conversation I’d had with an engineer earlier. We needed to do something. Evacuate the city? Find some way to relieve the flooding? I asked the general for help. He shrugged, replying, “I can’t do anything.” I told him, “Yes, you can, you’re a general, you were a commanding officer. You know how to direct people and coordinate people.”
He said, “But I don’t know what to do.”
I replied, “I’ll tell you what to do then.”
The dream ended.