Hallfloofcinate(floofinition) – To affect with visions of animals or imaginary perceptions of an animal’s presence.
In Use: “Folks who think they spotted an animal only to not see it again likely did not hallfloofcinate but instead glimpsed a floof traveling via quantum portals.”
In Use: “When a pet hallfloofcinates by leaping up and staring, listening intently or even growling, their people are often freaked out and worried that something is in the house.”
Recent Use: “Atlas frequently hallfloofcinated — or seemed to — leaping up and growling with stiff hackles, but no matter how many times this happened, Suzanne was compelled to get a baseball bat to protect herself and lock the door to whatever room she was in.”
Floofservant(floofinition)1. An animal who serves others. Origins: 1920s, United States.
In use: “After former President, George H.W. Bush, passed away, many people were moved by the sight of Sully, Bush’s longtime floofservant, beside the casket.”
In use: “Pudditat, a stray cat with a rep as a bully, became a floofservant, acting as a guide floof for Tervel, a blind farm dog.”
2. A person or individual who attends to animals’ needs and desires. Origins: 2000s, United States, Internet.
In use: “Many people end up as floofservants, voluntarily working to reduce the stray cat population and managing feral cat colonies so felines have safer, healthier, and happier lives.”
In use: “Rescuing a dog can be noble and rewarding work, but people who do so end up virtually being a floofservant as months of work is done to restore the canine’s emotional and physical health.”
Thursday, October 19, 2023, slid into its slot. Indian summer has re-commenced in Ashlandia, where the battles over how to help the homeless still rage.
With a sky full of sunshine and a wind full of promise, it’s 72 F right now. Forecasters assure us that our temperature will achieve the low to mid 80s today, a solid complement to the blue sky and fall foliage.
Had a stray cat encounter at home last night. I saw something wink past the front door windows. Investigation was demanded.
I opened the portal to see. In trotted a white and gray cat. An orange splash marked their back like an island in that white sea while its thick, bushy white tail waved like a friendly neighbor.
The cat seemed healthy and friendly. Without a mew, it worked through the house, exploring everything. Some nibbles of kibble were taken. A lengthy investigation of the kitty litter zone followed.
We were concerned. Was this cat lost or cast off? I’d never seen the cat in our neighborhood. That’s limited in how meaningful that is, because I have a limited view of the street and general area. It’s also possible that the cat lived in one of the nearby residences and never got out, but now had, and was confused.
Anyway, we couldn’t keep them. Our male cats barely tolerate one another. They never tolerate any outside cats. The sole exception to that was the late Pepper. A dark tortie, she carried herself with a majesty that asserted royal privilege. She also didn’t hesitate to hiss and swat, should any other feline venture too close. Pepper seemed to make peace with all, eventually; I used to find her and Tucker sleeping side by side on the front porch. I’ve never seen Tucker do that with another floof.
It’s odd to me that Tucker and Papi don’t get along. After all, they actually co-existed with three other cats for several years. When Tucker came, Scheckter was approaching the Rainbow Bridge. We still had Lady and Quinn. Sweet Boo, an onyx shorthair with a white star on his chest, then came along, a stray in need. I searched for his home and people without success, so he joined as a stray in residence.
Papi next joined, and that’s how the family stood for a while until Lady, Quinn, and Boo were each taken. So, I thought that Papi and Tucker were okay and even hoped that they would become friendlier.
Well, flooftente was achieved but they still issue threats and warnings to each other. Happened just the day before yesterday; Papi stepped up behind Tucker and leisurely sniffed over Tucker’s tail and rear. Tucker turned to reciprocate, sending Papi into a yowling, hissing frenzy, like, “Oh, no, he’s going to sniff me.”
So the sweet stray couldn’t be put up. We did set up a bed for them on the front porch and fed it again. The food needed to be brought in because outside pet food invites other creatures: skunks, raccoons, coyotes, foxes. The smell of food might attract one of the bears or cougars who roam our neighborhood. So, very, very reluctantly, we let the cat stay out, hating it all the way.
I posted about the cat on social media last evening but haven’t had a response. They haven’t been spied today. I hope they’re alright; I hope they’re safely home. I put food and water out for them on the front porch, in case they return, and let the boys out into the backyard.
I will also note that Papi returned from his morning patrol at about eight AM. He may have encountered the stray and chased them away. That’s Papi’s style.
While tending the stray last night, I picked up Tucker after he started after the stray. Hugging, kissing, stroking him, reassuring him that he wasn’t being replace, I told Tucker, “You need to stay calm.”
Picking up on that, The Neurons began playing Taylor Swift’s 2019 song, “You Need To Calm Down”. Without surprise, I can report that it’s continued playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark disputable). That’s how the MMMS generally works: once a song is in there, if stays until another song displaces it.
I do like the message out of “You Need to Calm Down”. The song’s message of people acting out in hate because of others’ genders when they’re not binary, or their choices of pronouns, or sexual orientation is exactly as needed. Too many people — many who seem to be right-wing — have gone over the top in their need and eagerness to deny others the freedom and right to be who they are. Right-wingers blast anyone who is not cisgender with surreal claims about how children are prey, or how the emergence of people who identify themselves under the umbrella of LGBTQ+ are destroying the world.
Witness, as a prominent example, Florida, led by Ron Desantis, and their absurd “Don’t Say Gay” law.
‘The bill’s sponsors have emphatically stated that the bill would not prohibit students from talking about their LGBTQ families or bar classroom discussions about LGBTQ history, including events like the 2016 deadly attack on the Pulse nightclub, a gay club in Orlando. Instead, they argue that the bill would bar the “instruction” of sexual orientation or gender identity.
‘But the text says both.’
Stay pos, be strong, and remain calm. I’m having coffee, which should sustain my efforts to do the same. Here’s the music. Carpe Thursday. Cheers
Floofgestible(floofinition) – Easily influenced by animal requests, behaviors, or presence. Origins: 1890, borrowed in Middle English floof and directly from Latin adjective suffix -ibilis (-able).
In use: “The new cats, Scout and Snickers, quickly established that Carla was floofgestible, and soon had her wrapped around their tails.”
In use: “Many people who declare that they’re aren’t ‘animal lovers’ and find themselves with a innocent animal needing assistance quickly realize that they’re floofgestible, doing anything to help their new fur friends to keep them alive and comfortable.”
Recent: “One friction point between Cameron and his wife in an otherwise idyllic marriage was that he was floofgestible, and always donating to animal causes such as rescues after an earthquake in Turkey and the war in Ukraine.”
I'm an independent floof,
and I go at my own speed,
No matter what you plan to do,
Nor where you need to be.
Whether you’re taking me for a walk,
Or waiting for me to pee.
Or I'm getting up from slumber,
And demanding something to eat.
Even if I'm coming to see you,
Or you're coming to see me,
I'll select the gear I'll use,
And establish the speed it'll be.
You'll soon learn from whatever I’m doing,
Whether it’s sleeping in sunshine or in bed,
Or getting petted or kissed,
On my belly or my head.
Or sitting and chewing,
Or flying or swimming,
Or brooding and stewing,
Or complaining and pooing.
Or staring and listening,
At scary things in the night.
Or walking and talking,
And chasing things in flight.
Or meowing and purring,
Or barking or squawking,
Or kissing and squirming,
Or running and stopping.
I can’t be ordered to make it fast,
Nor told to slow down to make it last.
You can try, but you can't change me.
And though you keep trying, you'll eventually see.
When it comes to living and dying and all in between.
No matter the activity or who gets involved,
You have no choice,
But to go with my flow.
At about 6 AM, I was pulled out of a dream at Papi’s request. He needed to go back out. Papi, aka the ginger blade, likes to come in and nibble some kibble, and then go back out to see if anything has changed outside.
Letting him out, I shrugged off the dream to think about it later and nestled back under the covers. At that point, I felt and heard Tucker get off the bed. A minute later, I heard him crunching kibble.
Silence came.
Litter box scratching followed.
That’s when I came fully awake as Tucker did some business and launched a stench that exfoliated my skin.
Had to immediately empty that. The good news, I told myself, is that last year’s COVID bout didn’t seem to affect my sense of smell.
Good to find those silver linings, even if they’re in a litter box.
Cogflooftive(floofinition) – Related to thinking about, concern about, or remembering animals. Origins: Midieval Latin, 1586; derived from cognitio (‘learning’ or ‘knowledge’) and floof (‘animal’, ‘bird’, ‘creature’ or ‘fish’).
In use: “Modern dangers of watching videos on Youfloof can include a cogflooftive obsession with how animals are treated or depicted, and how they’re used in movies and pop culture.”
Recent example: “Cogflooftive scientists point to a growing number of anecdotes and videos showing birds and animals’ problem solving skills as evidence that animals are more intelligent than many credit them.”
Greetings to all Earthbound beings. It’s Tuesday, October 10, 2023 — 10/10 — in Ashlandia, where the rain is welcomed and the temperature is chilly. Autumn has swiped brushes over the window’s vistas. Overnight, plums and burgundies have been delivered to compete with green, amber, lemon, and red. Quite a splash for the eyes.
Rain plays metal notes on the roof’s vents. It’s 53 F now and will advance ten degrees up the thermometer before the sun’s retreat.
With this ambience underway, I’ve not checked the news. I’m saving myself for a few minutes more to just ensure my safe little bubble of existence.
I’m eager to continue writing. On the other hand, chords loaded with guilt on sometimes struck. I feel I should be doing more about the house. Part of this is that my wife has a busy week: Food & Friends deliveries yesterday, exercise classes every other morning, and book club Wednesday night, in which she’s the moderator. She takes moderating very seriously.
Besides those pretty standard things, Empty Bowls is on Friday. This is a fundraising effort to fund the city’s charities to help fed, cloth, and shelter the less fortunate and homeless. Local artists and art classes provide bowls. You basically buy a bowl for $25 and fill it with soup. Local restaurants and politicians provide the soups, along with breads.
An annual event, my wife has been preparing the table centerpieces for a decade. The pursuit has become more involved; Peace House, the hosting organization, has less and less resources for the centerpieces. That moves the burden to my wife’s shoulders, so she’s been scrounging for flowers and vases. The ‘vases’ are pint bottling jars. Thanks to one of my friends, we managed to procure enough of those.
All that puts her on edge. But in addition, the Empty Bowls commit also asked her to make some vegan cookies for the event.
Well, my wife isn’t one to refuse such a request. Agreeing added anxiety, though. She went through recipes and made a decision about what to make. We bought the supplies last Friday. The baking will be done Thursday. I wish I could do more to help her, and that’s why I feel guilty for going off and writing.
The cloud-heavy sky has me thinking about the upcoming ring of fire eclipse. Due on Saturday, we’re right on the path’s edge as the eclipse traverses North America but wonder whether the weather will clear enough for us to enjoy a view. Stores and businesses have been selling eclipse glasses for several weeks, but Scienceworks gives them out free. We’ll get them free and then give them a donation, LOL.
I was listening to Papi singing this morning. Papi is my ginger gentlefloof, a slender blade of a feline who exhibits a standoffish air. I’m the only one permitted to properly visit with him, although my wife is making progress with him. He’s skittish and wary to the extreme, a complete 180 from Tucker (our black and white long-haired fellow), who deeply enjoys human company. Papi avoids people and animals.
So, growing cold weather induced me to close the pet door. Papi loves the night and enjoy popping in and out. Coming in to eat kibble, going back out to witness the world. The pet door’s closure forces him to convince me to let him out. He knows I don’t like breaking out of sleep and slipping out of bed to do this, so he now sings the “I Want Out” blues.
The song starts soft and slow, just one gentle note every other minute. Gently the notes build in volume and then begin to come more frequently. Finally, a wail invested with the power of all unfairly imprisoned entities breaks the dark. I usually get up and do as bid with the first few notes. I thought that I’d let Papi sing a while before letting him out, as he has such a beautiful voice.
Naturally, rain and Papi’s blues inspired Les Neurons to conjure blues about rain in my morning mental music stream (Trademark possible). Well, first there was Tina Turner singing about rain on the windows. Then John Fogerty broke in to ask me if I’ve ever seen the rain.
Slipping into the blues, Stevie Ray Vaughn apprised of flooding in Texas. Finally, though, we had Buddy Guy singing “Feels Like Rain”. Buddy’s song struck the right balance of feeling and being so it won honors as today’s theme music. It’s a song I’ve used before as my theme music, basically for the same reasons.
Stay pos, be strong, and keep chill. Coffee has landed; here’s the music. Cheers
Hello, fellow trekkers through life. It’s Monday, October 9, 2023.
Heavy clouds clipped in under night’s cover, announcing autumn was ending our Indian summer flirtation. 65 F now, 66 F is the projected high for Ashlandia, where all ingredients are fresh, locally grown, and organic, except when it isn’t. Showers are expected shortly, the beginning of a local rainfest running this week.
Was tired this morning and didn’t want to leave my bed. Not happy news out in the world, in my mind, right? More war rising and escalating.
But, the cats clarified who has the power and how my desires fit into the morning routines when it comes to decisions about them eating or me sleeping. I also remembered that I’d committed to helping my wife.
Said wife — still the first (I know, it’s a surprise to all of us) — had Food & Friends deliveries scheduled that day. She’d be returning from exercise class, change clothes, swig down his coffee and don some lippy, and then she and I would jump in the car. I’m here driver for this monthly volunteer work.
Our last F&F outing didn’t go great. Three people didn’t answer the door or the food. Typical F&F beneficiaries are elderly, handiapped, or people coping with diseases. So, besides delivering food, F&F’s mission includes ensuring people are okay and don’t need assitance.
We picked up the food at the senior center and perused the list. Three people were off it. We talked about them, hoping they’re okay, wondering about their situation. Two new people had been added. Off we went.
It mostly went well, although there were hitches, such as being short one frozen meal. The biggest issue was that one new man didn’t answer his door. My wife called the number provided; not in service. After knocking more, she wrote a note to him on the official F&F slip and we pressed on.
Afterwards, we went back to his place. Still no answer.
The man lives in an apartment complex. The manager’s office was nearby so my wife went over to speak with the manager about the man. Turns out, the F&F client has a motorized wheelchair. He’s a smoker and likes to go out to smoke. The manager had seen him two hours before, buzzing around the campus.
Calling it a day, we returned to the senior center and my wife documented all that had happened.
The driving and waiting seemed to drain me today. Selfish of me, I reflected, but then again, that’s my writing time. Reactions involving writing doesn’t aways flow down normal culverts of thinking and emotions. Also, I volunteer to help her, and I enjoy it. Just one of those days.
I always wonder, though, what brings people to this point. Thinking about why they might be on a F&F client, I pursue the regular courses of reasons. Genetics, giving disease an unfair advantage. Bad luck, like car accidents and house fires. They might have been victimized by others, or made decisions which seemed to be the thing to do, only to have it all go south.
While sitting in the car, I listened to the radio and waited at one point. “Tailwind” by Kenny Wayne Shepherd came on. I’d only heard the song, which came out in 2019, a few times before. I know controversy about KWS was stirred a few years ago over his ‘General Lee’ replica. The General Lee is an orange ’69 Dodge Charger with a CAS battle flag painted on its roof. The car was featured in a television show called “The Dukes of Hazzard”, which aired from 79 – 85. Overseas most of the time, I didn’t see much of it.
Anyway, KWS had a nomination for Blues Musician of the Year (or some honor like that) rescinded because of his ownership of the car. In his response, KWS acknowledged he had the car but had the CSA flag covered up because he knew it represented racist elements. He apologized for it and stated that he stood against racism and oppression for everyone.
Well, hearing the song, The Neurons kept it going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark confusing) after we’d shifted into the afternoon. So, I’m gifting it to you. The Neurons and I agreed that the lyrics fit my mood.
Sometimes I feel like a man in a can About to go hurtling through Space, whiplash fast Soon as the match hits the fuse Sometimes it seems like I’m making it up Crazy and crazier days When fiction ain’t stranger than the truth Turn the page Turn the page
Roll around the world And around again Someplace we’ve never been Blow a kiss and Fly with the sun See how lightning fast we can run With a little luck We might just catch a tailwind Hey, fellow travelers Keep travelin’
Somedays I swear that the game must be rigged Jokers up every last sleeve And if crooked is straight Then what the hell does that make me
Floofkempt (floofinition) – Being overcome with emotions over news or images of animals, or interactions with animals. Origins: first used in 1991 in New York, borrowed from Middle High Floofman.
In use: “Watching videos of animals being rescued on Flooftube, Jill was clearly floofkempt from the stories being shared.”
In use: “Nancy became a little floofkempt as she talked about senior floof’s final battle with cancer.”
Michael Seidel, writer 