Kibble Balance

Kibble Balance (floofinition) – The extremely precise quantity and kind of food an animal, especially a housepet, deems acceptable. The Kibble Balance exists on a spectrum known only to animals and is thought by humans to constantly fluctuate. Such fluctuation vexes humans’ ability to feed animals.

In use: “The cats just loved the new grain free kibble Michael provided them but abruptly turned their noses up to it on the third day, when changes to the Kibble Balance shifted their interest in the that food.”

Monday’s Wandering Thought

In a true WTF moment, he reached up and back to scratch the top of his back. His fingers found a round, flat object. Poker chip? That’s what it felt like but how and why it was there was a mystery.

It wasn’t a poker chip; it was a U.S. quarter.

There had been a U.S. quarter stuck to his back. Really, WTF?

Monday’s Theme Music

105 F is today’s magic number. Ashland’s forecast high temperature, keep it in mind as you plan and pursue activities. Cooling shelters have been set up around town at churches, community centers, and the library.

The house system says it’s 66 F outside. Alexa claims it’s 21 C in Ashland, where I reside. The net says it’s 74. It all makes sense because they’re all correct. Depends on where you live, the mountains’ shadows, and the sun’s reach, yeah? Hope the weather is kind to you wherever you are. If it’s not, then I hope you’re in a safe place.

Another week has begun. This is Monday, July 25, 2022. July has entered the final stretch. 2022 is halfway through summer in the northern hemisphere.

Old Tucker was active last night. The big guy was feeling it. I opened the back door just after midnight to let in some cooling air and check upon them. When I flicked on the light, I saw Tucker dash out into the yard. He seemed to be after something. Well, the light was bad so I dropped back for a flashlight. When I illuminated the scene, I saw a young raccoon facing off with my cat. The raccoon was a little larger than my boy but Tucker goes aggro with animals. I called for him to come back. The raccoon tried to make an escape. Tucker gave chase, but the raccoon made it into a bush. Tucker sat there to ensure the critter didn’t leave. I went out an coaxed Tucker back, allowing the other to make their escape.

Meanwhile, the orange menace known as Papi, aka Meep, had watched all this from the patio’s safety. Once Tucker returned and the raccoon was gone, Papi went over there and laid down in front of the bush where rocky raccoon had taken refuge. He just grinned at my efforts to get him back in.

“Everyday Is a Winding Road” by Sheryl Crow (1996) has settled into the morning mental music stream. The Neurons riffed on my thought upon reading some news and thinking, “Well, anything goes these days.” The Neurons promptly launched the song, homing in on the lyrics, “Everybody gets high, everybody gets low, these are the days when anything goes.” Like almost every song residing in my mental juke box, the song has a story attached, although it’s just a regular tale of hearing the melody during my Silicon Valley commutes, passing the time as we motor slowly through the webs of interchanges clotted with cars.

Stay pos, etc. It’s still cool so I’ll refresh with a little hot java, yeah? Yeah. Have a better one.

Later, gator.

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