Floofogony(floofinition) – 1. An account of floofs’ origins on Earth. Origins: Poem of 1022 lines by Floofsiod, written about 1026 BCE.
In Use: “Few humans have been granted access to the Floofogony, a document which is precious to animals and kept in the Fortress of Floofitude in an undisclosed place which is said to exist in an area of Earth inaccessible to humans.”
Recent Use: “Although many societies offer greater recognition that animals are not dumb and do have feelings and are capable of more intelligence than previously credited, the idea of a document such as the Floofogony is usually roundly mocked.”
2. Anguish of any sort felt about the loss of an animal or an animal’s situation. Origins: middle-english, first known use in fourteenth century.
In Use: “When their dog raced out of the yard after his bath, immediate floofogony was felt by all the family members even as they scrambled to put on their shoes, get in the car and find her.”
Recent Use: “With the Internet showing more about animals across the spectrum helping one another or asking humans for help, more people experience floofogony as they read stories or watch videos about animals being dumped, abused, or in need of medical intervention after accidents.
A flourish of color and wind heralded Wednesday’s daybreak on November 15, 2023 in Ashlandia, where red-leaved maples are spectacular and plentiful, shimmering with a tree full of leaves like they’re lit from within. After rain dusted us for a few nocturnal hours, it’ll be dry for the day’s remaining hours. 54 F now, we’re reaching for 62 F today under a sky where sun and clouds continue their seasonal skirmish. Sunshine is mostly winning, and the day feels fine under a balmy autumn wind that tears leaves off the trees and carries them on whirling rides.
The 15th of the month was payday for me for most of my military career, a day which we looked forward to when I was a lowly paid airman. In the latter stages of my career, the government announced we’d only be paid once per month going forward to save the gov. money. That forced many people to be more circumspect with how they spent, impelling people who habitually went payday to payday, comfortable in the half-month increments, into planning what and when to spend to make it last.
I slept in late today, staying abed until after nine. Wasn’t a plan; cozy and warm, with Tucker, the black and white long hair floof sharing my pillow, purring like an idling tractor, The Neurons said, “Let’s just stay here.” Didn’t even consult me. Then Tucker raised his head and sneezed across my face, ending the sleep-in with a jolt. Rolling out, feet thumping the floor, I hastened to the bathroom and rinsed off my face, giving particular focus to my mouth. I’m not a germophobe but if I was setting up a dating profile, cat drool across my lips would be listed as a turnoff.
I thanked him for getting me up and then went into the feeding ritual. Papi hurried in for his portion, patiently sitting and watching, only vocalizing his needs after I picked up his bowl to set onto the floor. Then it was like Papi was suddenly starving as a hunger-driven long wail of desire was unleashed. Still, as I set the bowl down, he took a few moments to head bump my arm and hand several times and purr before dropping his head to the bowl and plowing in.
As if now making fun of me because I was late, dashing around, muttering to myself, “Got to step it up a few gears,” The Neurons delivered a 1970 song called “Give Me Just a Little More Time” by Chairmen of the Board to the morning mental music stream (Trademark skipping). The song came out when I was thirteen, and I always enjoyed the drama and urgency the vocalist emoted. Some might label it over the top, but I felt some kinship with the message presented as I trekked the hormone trippy path of understanding sex, love, and other emotions as a teenager. I’m still working onit.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been consumed and is kicking in, giving me a heartbeat and clearing the fog out of my head. Here we go. Cheers
Floofdischronia – (floofinition) Mental condition which causes people to lose time to spending time learning about animals or interacting with animals. Origins: Greece, 1671.
In Use: “Greek doctors responded to a crises of economy by examining how humans and floofs engaged and soon found that animals exerted a hypnotic hold on many people of a certain disposition, causes sch individuals to forget about time or deliberately ignore it to stay with animals, a condition which the labeled floofdischronia.
Recent Use: “The pandemic hitting U.S. shores in 2020 brought a precipitous rise in floofdischronia for several years, even impacting the U.S. economy as people chose to quit working to stay home with their pets.”
Après-petting Cleaning (APC)(floofinition) – The fur cleaning required after a human touching a floof’s fur after the floof has just finished cleaning it. Origins: US, derived from French. First use observed in 1960.
In Use: “Barney had just finished cleaning his fur and was settling in for a nap when Meg came him, saw him, and came over, burying her face in his side’s fur as she covered him with smooches, forcing Barney into a vigorous après-petting cleaning.”
Recent Use: ‘Carla’s Instagram account is a popular place, with many people tuning in to see what her cats are doing, especially when she forces them into après-petting cleaning by touching the cats on their backs while saying, “Doink.”‘
Cogfloofscente(floofinition) – A person who has expert knowledge of an animal or group of animals. Origins: borrowed from Italian with roots in Latin cogfloofōscere. First use observed in 1786.
In use: “Insperable from one another, Naia was a cogfloofscente of Lucky, claiming to know everything the floof’s expression showed and understand every sound the animal made.”
In use: “Familiar with routines, habits, and predilections, Corvette was a cogfloofscente of his family of humans and their close friends, taking advantage of them to get treats, belly rubs, and laps.”
Recent use: “In the first year of COVID sheltering-in-place guidance, many people and their floofs became cogfloofscente of the others, recognizing not just what made the other happy or upset, but also effectively comforting the other.”
I ended up talking to the baristas about my hair this morning. The conversation launched off their casual question, “What do you have going on today?” I mentioned that I needed to have my hair cut.
Showing sympathy and politeness, they talked about their own hair woes. Then one barista mentioned that he has one part of his hair that always flips up. Drives him crazy.
“A cowlick,” I answered, adding, “I have one, too.”
The young baristas stared at me. “A cowlick?” one repeated for the group.
I laughed hard from the blank look accompanying the question, and then explained the expression, learned from Mom when I was a young boy.
It started with the quote in the graphics on the coffee shop tip jar and the question, “Who wrote this?”
I admitted, I didn’t know it, though The Neurons declared that they knew it and would deliver the author’s name if I just gave them more time. Already shifting into my own writing mode, I rebuffed their request.
Two days later, the situation has been modified. Now, the quote is above two tip jars. On one jar, it says, “Taylor Swift” while the other is annotated, “Shakespeare”. Apparently,
It’s Shakespeare, of course, Sonnet 65, which The Neurons again insisted they could have told me if I’d given them some time to think. Meanwhile, the baristas informed me that several customers guessed it was Taylor Swift. Hence, the change.
I admire this sonnet:
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o’er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? O fearful meditation! where, alack, Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid? Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back? Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? O, none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Despite a cloudy presence, it’s a sunny Tuesday, November 7, 2023. An election day in many precincts, we’re not voting on anything this year in Ashlandia, where the voters are blue with purple tints and mostly retired professionals. It’s 49 F now with plans to burst into the low fifties, perhaps even hitting up to 53 F. Woo – break out the shorts and tank tops.
Do people still wear tank tops?
My clothes amused me today after I dressed. They were so funny, cracking jokes among themselves. Yeah, I need to say that information differently: The Neurons pointed out how old my wardrobe is, amusing me. Like, the jacket was purchased in San Francisco at Macy’s in December, 2005, during a trip to the city from our new home in Oregon to visit with friends and hear some blues at a club. Pants, underwear, and socks are fairly new at four ~ five years, but my brown Nunn Bush shoes are over twenty-five years old, which strikes me as impossible. And they still fit and are amazingly comfortable. Just a little older than the shoes is the Arrows shirt, purchased at the Naval Air Station Moffett Field Exchange back in 1996.
Weird what memories stay sharp in the mind. Adding it all up, I’m an old clothes man who will never be accused of being a fashion plate. Oh, well.
I keep finding pieces of kibble at odd places in the house, such as the bedroom hallway, in the living room by the television, and in the office. I normally pick them up and toss them away. Yesterday, though, I saw Papi, the ginger blade, come up, sniff the kibble, look around, and then head for the feeding station. That put it all into context: these kibble pieces are not lost or misplaced, but precisely located elements of the KPS, the shorthand for the Kibble Positioning System. Consulting the KPS provides the floof about food locations. The floofs have such amazing technology, yeah?
The Neurons knocked me back with the music they slotted into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fishy). I was in the kitchen, minding my own business, getting on with needs. Having fed the house floofs, I’m preparing my own brekkie when I hear, “Words can’t bring me down.” Within a heartbeat or two, I’m hearing more of Christina Aguilera singing “Beautiful” from 2002.
Why this song today? I asked Der Neurons.
No, they didn’t respond, but I knew that it was about words. First, words in the news about polls, politics, and elections; then words about wars, killings, and death; and finally, words in my novel-in-process and where it stands and what I’m gonna do with it next.
It’s such a strong and lovely song, though, well sung and produced, I’m happy with it in the MMMS.
Every day is so wonderful Then suddenly it’s hard to breathe Now and then I get insecure From all the pain, I’m so ashamed
I am beautiful no matter what they say Words can’t bring me down I am beautiful in every single way Yes, words can’t bring me down… Oh no So don’t you bring me down today
To all your friends you’re delirious So consumed in all your doom Trying hard to fill the emptiness The pieces gone, left the puzzle undone Is that the way it is?
You are beautiful no matter what they say Words can’t bring you down…oh no You are beautiful in every single way Yes, words can’t bring you down, oh, no So don’t you bring me down today
No matter what we do (No matter what we do) No matter what we say (No matter what we say) We’re the song inside the tune Full of beautiful mistakes
And everywhere we go (And everywhere we go) The sun will always shine (The sun will always, always shine) And tomorrow we might wake on the other side
We are beautiful no matter what they say Yes, words won’t bring us down, no, no We are beautiful in every single way Yes, words can’t bring us down, oh, no So don’t you bring me down today
Oh, yeah, don’t you bring me down today, yeah, ooh Don’t you bring me down ooh… today
It’s a song worth listening to and thinking about. I hope you’ll listen and agree.
On to the day. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and remember that you’re beautiful. Coffee is at hand once again to bolster my will. Here’s the video. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 