Sunday’s Theme Music
6:04, 8:30, 8/1/2021, 96. These are the numbers defining the day’s parameters. Sunrise in the AM, sunset in the PM, the first day of August, and another high forecast for the upper nineties. Little leery of that last. Said the same yesterday. Next thing I know, I glance at the thermometer and it’s claiming 108. Checked with Alexa. She assured me it was only 101.
Yes, it’s Sunday but things are little changed. Awoke with a cat eyeing me. Purring. Kneading. Drooling. Hungry, I suspected. Or possessed. I tried to pretend I wasn’t awake. He tapped my cheek with a claw. Rubbed against my nose. Hand. Smiled.
Well, I thought it was a smile. Looking into his eyes, I began singing “Space Age Love Song” to him. A Flock of Seagulls. 1982. “I saw your eyes. You made me smile. For a little while I was falling in love.”
The cat — this is Tucker, he of the long and thick black and white fur, large white paws, and helter-skelter curvaceous whiskers — dropped his smile. Frowned. Changed his gaze to, “I’m hungry and you’re singing? What’s wrong with you?” It all worked out. I turned away. He remained patient. Spoke up with a rusty, drawling meow laced with purring trills. Knew I’d crumble.
Here’s the music. Watch the video. Admire the hair. Note the style. Shake your head and tell yourself, “My, how things have changed.” Stay positive, test neg., wear a mask as needed and don’t be stupid or complacent about it, and get the vax if you’ve not done so, if you can. Cheers
Obsfloofian
Obsfloofian (floofinition) – An animal who is black as obsidian.
In use: “Obsfloofians such as black cats and dogs are often awarded names like Onyx or Midnight, but seeking a new direction, Karla named her obsfloofian, “T’Challa”, an homage to her favorite movie and her favorite actor.”
Floofconic
Floofconic (floofinition) – An animal widely known and acknowledged for distinctive excellence.
In use: “Many people consider their pets to be floofconic for one reason or another – personality, quirks, coloring, size, et floofera.”
Morning Routine
The door opened. He tottered out and stopped in shade and sunshine on the hard white ground. Good morning, he said to the air. Good morning, sunshine. He liked the air and sunshine, though neither answered him.
The blue bird came by and said hello. He liked the bird. It was always friendly and noisy.
The man came out, talking to him in his busy language. He liked the man. He mewed that information to the man, who went by him in a scissoring flash of legs.
He decided to follow the man across the dewy wet grass, see what’s what, but the man went back into the house, speaking as he always did, which roughly translated to, I am leaving you, and closed the door, as he always did, leaving him alone, in the grass, staring back.
A bee came by, and another bird (one he didn’t know) stopped on the tree and said hello. He didn’t know the bird, so he didn’t answer. After requesting permission (which he gave with a nod), the bird darted down in the yard to visit the grass, then said good-bye and flew away.
He settled onto the grass. Cold under his belly fur, the grass sent a wet shock up through him. The sun was peeking through trees. It was always shy at first, hiding behind trees, leaves, and clouds. But then it came out and told him, good morning. How are you?
The sunshine stroked his black fur with its warm hand. I am fine, he answered, closing his eyes to nap.
Profloofgate
Profloofgate (floofinition) – Person who spends extravagantly for animals or spends large sums of money on animals.
In use: “Dissatisfied with other aspects of their lives, people turn to satisfying their fur friends first and foremost, becoming a profloofgate when it comes to their animals’ food, toys, comfort, and healthcare. Some claim that they’re forced to be a profloofgate because they have multiple animals with special needs, and prices just going up, up, up.”
Mondefloof
Mondefloof (floofinition) – A misheard word or phrase that causes an animal’s reaction.
In use: “Noting that when she asked her husband where the wok was, the dog went for his leash to go for a walk, she vowed to spell wok in the future to avoid the mondefloof.”
Sean Connery, Me, and A Cat In A Dream
We were ordered into a car. My companion, a male, was up front in the passenger seat. Top down, the convertible car began speeding along.
I said, “Is it my imagination, or do I detect from the motion that this car is going backwards?”
No answer came. As I processed that null response, I said, “Is this a Rolls Royce?”
The driver was looking back over his shoulder. He was in the right hand front seat. Looking back as he did verified for me that we were going backwards — I couldn’t see over the sides of the car to be sure.
The driver was Sean Connery. As that registered, I debated, Sean Connery or James Bond?
I gathered that we were going backward around a cloverleaf exchange and then accelerated straight onto a highway. At that point, Connery executed a handbrake turn, reversing us 180. We now traveled in the correct position.
After a time, the car was pulled over. Telling us, “See you later,” Connery hopped out and waved good-bye.
My companion — a short, elderly white male — and I were relieved to be free of Connery and have position of our Rolls again, because we needed to turn the car in. Problem was, that wasn’t the car that was expected, and the company would be upset. We traveled back to the turn-in location where a tall, white man in a suit greeted us. After hearing our problem, he said, smiling, “No problem. I can make this go away.”
Some paperwork was processed. As that went on, I checked some physical records. These tracked my health and activities. I was shocked to discover they were marked SECRET in the standard stamp at the top. It flummoxed me to think that those innocuous records were marked secret. I then also discovered my CIA identification, a rueful reminder of the secret world I inhabited.
The tale man returned. “Slide your company card through this card reader.” I smirked at the expression, company card, but did as told. “Your bill is twenty-four dollars,” I was told. As I reacted, he added, “It’s been paid.”
My original companion and I went off in another car. Exiting the building, a young black male stopped us. “You’ll need this to get back in.” He handed us a laminated blue card with black grease pencil writing on it. As he walked off, I called out, “No, we don’t need that, we already have one.” I held our original up, showing it to him, and then flipped the other to him. It sailed like a flying disc.
He caught it without effort. “That was impressive,” I said.
He shrugged. “I do that all the time.”
“How many times a day?”
“At least three.”
That impressed me. My companion and I drove off.
Dream shift. I was on vacation, walking toward a river. Bending down as I reached the roaring, turbulent river, I rubbed a cat’s belly. Wondering who this friendly feline was, I investigated and discovered it was my own ginger mini-puma. As I talked to him, he rolled around and then stood and stretched.
I was worried. We were over a mile from home. “What are you doing here, so far from home?” I asked the cat. In response, he trotted ahead of me, as though he and I were journeying together.
The cat splashed through some water. I crossed onto a natural rock bridge. Standing over the raging white water, I saw something scything through the water ahead. I couldn’t say what it was. Then a bird attacked me. I swatted it away. Another bird then attacked. This bird latched onto my leg. As its claws dug in, I beat it until it released me. Realizing that two birds attacking me was unusual and guessed, they’re probably protecting nests in the rocks around me. With that conclusion, I hurried on.
Dream end.
Michael Seidel, writer 