Floofdicial

Floofdicial (floofinition) – Of, by, or appropriate to an animal’s judgement.

In use: “No matter what she tried to do to make Oreo happy, the feline always gave her a floofdicial stare that declared, “Guilty,” forcing her to go back to giving Oreo the treats that she preferred.”

Tuesday’s Theme Music

A cat and I were admiring the night sky. Well, I was admiring the sky. He was alternatively washing and darting sudden glances at sounds that he claimed to hear. I think he was messing with me, myself.

A full, bright moon obliterated views of the stars but turning, I found some to admire, and toyed with identifying constellations while listening for whatever it was the cat claimed to hear. Besides raccoons, cats, dogs, rats, deer, and opossum, critters like bears and cougars stalk the area.

Still beauty descended from the night. With it came memories of other times when I looked up at a night sky. Most prominently came a time when Bobby and I were on Sicily. Stationed in Germany together, we’d flown down on a training mission. Now trashed, we shared a rallying cry, “The beach at dawn,” and were trying to stay up until that point. It was oh dark thirty, and the Med’s nearby lapping waves was lulling us. Above was a fantastic array of stars, planets, and galaxies, the kind of sight that whispers, “Oh, wow.”

It made me think of “Wheel in the Sky”, a 1978 song by Journey. I sang a little of it. After I stopped, Bobby said, “Oh, man, I really dislike that song.”

Man, did we laugh.

As for reasons why he disliked it, I vaguely remember him mentioning that he thought it too sentimental, sloppy, and shallow. Maybe I’m remembering wrong.

I still don’t know what the cat was pretending to hear. I went back in, leaving him to prowl the night. Maybe the sound he heard was just a promise of something enticing.

Nofloofobia

Nofloofobia (floofinition) – The fear that there won’t be any animals.

In use: “Suffering from nofloofobia, she, aided by her husband and children, constantly saved animals, averaging an animal a week, ignoring their species, or the costs, attending to their needs and injuries, trying to keep the Earth populated with animals.”

Floofscue

Floofscue (floofinition) – 1. Mistake or slip by an animal, particularly a houspet. 2. An animal rescue. 3. The signal for an animal to do something.

In use: “Someone’s quiet footfall coming up the walk toward the front door was a floofscue for flooflam as the dogs broke out barking, the birds began talking and squawking, and the cats narrowed eyes to stare down intruders or took flight for hiding places.”

Friday’s Theme Music

This one was another cat song, to my little ginger Papi boy.

First lines were the hook:

Is it all in that pretty little head of yours?
What goes on in that place in the dark?

The dark, for the cat, is the dark night where he disappears for a few hours in this land of cars, bears, cougars, and raccoons. I want him to stay home and safe, but he insists that he must be allowed to wander.

The Elvis Costello song, though, “Veronica” (1989), is about an older woman suffering severe memory loss, and was inspired by his grandmother. It’s a fortunate few who’ve not witnessed dementia or Alzheimer’s assaulting someone as they’ve aged, stripping away their awareness, coherency, and personality, stealing them away from you before your eyes.

Flooftrust

Flooftrust (floofinition) – An animal or housepet’s willingness to believe a person or another animal until after they’ve been betrayed.

In use: “Knowing that her dog’s flooftrust was fast dwindling, she offered him a treat, only to be greeted with a sullen, hurt look.”

n/t to Facebook/The Epoch Times for photo with caption.

 

Friday’s Theme Music

“Don’t push me cuz I’m close to the edge. I’m trying not to lose my head.”

Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five’s classic rap song, “The Message” (1982) started streaming in me after dealing with our cat, Boo. Fair to Boo, a large bedroom panther, he suffers PTSD and is hypersensitive. His back fur has become terribly matted, and he’s too freaked to let us do anything about it. Exasperating. I feel for the cat, who is very smart, but after a bit of trying to do something about his fur and having him hissing, spitting, and swiping at me, only to turn around and come back to get petted again, I had to walk away.

And that’s when that line entered and the song started streaming in me.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music is well known, and came about from playing with our ginger cat, Papi, aka, Meep. Meep was his original name, given for this sweet, strained version of meow that he had when we first met him.

Happy as he is about ninety percent of the time, he was in a frisky, rambunctious mood. We began one of our favorite games, hide and chase. As the game progressed, I first streamed “Run Through the Jungle” by CCR, sometimes singing parts of it to Papi, but as Papi quit playing to roll around and get some belly rubs, the music switched to “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns n’ Roses (1987).

A powerful, hard rock song with what seems like some serious, mocking lyrics, the song stayed with me, shoving other songs out of my head as I walked to begin my writing session.

Welcome to the jungle
We’ve got fun ‘n’ games
We got everything you want
Honey, we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey
We got your disease

h/t to AZLyrics.com

 

A Knowledge Dream

This dream could’ve been named a number of things. I first referred to it as the “Born to Run” dream. Then, as I remembered it, I decided the new title was more appropriate.

I was traveling by airlines in America through multiple, crowded airports. After going through Duluth, Minnesota, I went through Fargo, North Dakota. After Fargo, I found myself in a huge building. We’re talking a Superbowl stadium size.

Old, the building was well-maintained, with cavernous but mostly empty rooms except for towering gray cabinets. A woman introduced herself as a director. I was at a knowledge warehouse. Speaking to the air, the director told her staff to assist me with whatever I wanted. She told me to fill out my requests on a request form. The request form should include a learning objective. Catalogs of learning objectives were in the cabinets. I could use them to expedite the process.

Six other students showed up. They’d arrived before me but were coming to meet me and continue with their requests. The director asked me how I got there. After thinking, I said that I’d come through Fargo because that was the best way to get there. After acknowledging that, she departed.

I quickly completed a half-dozen learning objective requests. The other students went off to continue their learning. Thick folders for the first learning objectives soon arrived. Within minutes, I had a stack of them in front of me. Perusing them, I selected one for attention and started reading it as I walked around.

I found myself with a microphone. The warehouse was lit like a stage so I decided to perform “Born to Run”. As I was doing my performance, I realized that security cameras were present. Embarrassed, I quit my performance. Someone was trying to raise me, but I ignored him because I didn’t want to be mocked.

Wandering the warehouse, I soon found myself in wooded thicket. Movement ahead drew my interest. After some investigation, I saw a squirrel, and then a cat, and realized that the cat was chasing the squirrel.

I was summoned back to a meeting room. The other students were there. We sat at a table and talked about our learning objectives. More folders arrived for me. The director called for a few of us to go into another room with one specific folder. It was our choice which folder to bring.

Aha, epiphany. I needed to decide where I wanted to go, and it was a journey to a different, isolated location. I also had the responsibility to educate myself but resources were available to help.

Now, weirdly, the dream ended with “Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows” by Lesley Gore (1963).

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