Floofnorant
Floofnorant (floofinition) – People who are oblivious of animals and animal behavior, except for the barest awareness that animals exist.
In use: “Many of the floofnorant sniff and make disdainful noises that animals are dumb, don’t have emotions, and don’t feel pain. People who live with animals have a much different view.”
Apple Diet After Math
The three-day apple diet was endured. Yeah, not bad, except in maddening fits when habits drive hunger. Like relaxing, watching television or reading in the evening invites a food companion. Not anything big but the apple slices weren’t satisfying in those moments.
That was rare, though. I’m satisfied with results. I suffer from edema brought on by Amlodipine taken to manage my high blood pressure. Apples only for three days had a dramatic impact. Likewise, as I’ve aged, mild bloating plagues me. That disappeared. And I felt damn fine. I’d recommend it to others.
Rising yesterday morning, I wasn’t hungry and ate breakfast a little later than usual. Energy level was high. I didn’t have any dramatic urges or desires to stuff myself. For dinner, we enjoyed fish with seasoned boiled potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a salad.
The cats rose up. “Fish! Real food. At last, we have been delivered from our suffering.” They charged my plate, leaping up onto the table. They know they’re not allowed on the table.
My response: “Get down. Back. This is my food. You don’t see me going after your food.”
They all jumped down and scattered back a few feet. The head floof said, “You can eat my kibble any time you want. I’ll trade.”
I told him I’d passed. He walked away, muttering to himself, tail swishing.
I don’t think he was happy.
Monday’s Theme Music
Pitter, patter, the cats are at it, running halls like they own them. Greetings to people on the third rock from the sun. Today is Monday, January 10, 2021. The wind abates off and on but the cats remain displeased. Although the sun duly chugged into the sky at 7:39 AM, it did so without great warmth or enthusiasm. The cats don’t like that. “Give me some sunshine,” they meow at me. “Talk to the sun and clouds,” I answer. “I have no hand.”
The sun will hang around until 4:58 PM. The weather isn’t bad despite the cats’ sunshine complaint. Temperature is at 43 F and we expect it to climb to 54 F.
Later, that same day…
The morning was interrupted by phone calls and then it was off to deliver food for Food & Friends. Since the initial words were typed, the weather has improved. Blue has bled through the clouds. Sunshine’s yawn engulfs the valley. We’ve warmed to 54 and the wind has passed to gentle breezes. The cats, however, are indifferent to the changes; they are asleep.
Today’s morning mental music stream resident is Jack Johnson with “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing” from 2005. It’s another cat-inspired choice. While I was doing morning business, the first floof and the floofs-in-waiting sounded off their impatience for morning wet food. Not enough that they have kibble. No, these furry gods also require wet food twice a day, along with royal treats.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get thee the jabs when you can. Time for fresh coffee. Anyone with me? Cheers
Cancflooflation
Cancflooflation (floofinition) – An event, plan, action, or activity that is stopped due to an animal.
In use: “They’d planned to clean the house but a cancflooflation was made because the cat and dog were sleeping together in a long patch of sunshine and looked so darn cute.”
Day Two of the Apple Diet
Walking along the streets yesterday, I realize that I’d picked the wrong time of day for a constitutional. It was dinner preparation time. Smells from people’s cooking clouded the air. I swear that I smelled a grilled steak with garlic bread and onions. And here I am, eating nothing but apples.
Stickers on fruit exasperate me. Yes, this is a first world complaint. Two or three stickers are on each apple. Removing them requires some thumb-nailing. One typically comes apart as five or six tiny pieces.
The apple diet is an Edgar Cayce thing. My wife and I discovered Edgar Cayce in our late teens. Cayce was as a clairvoyant who claimed to channel information from his higher self while in a trance-like state. People wrote to him for advice, especially about their health. We came to learn about Cayce through books by Jess Stern.
Cayce made a lot of predictions that didn’t work out. But some of his notions intrigued us, and we adopted some of his eating and healing guidance. One of those things is the apple diet. On it, you eat nothing but apples for three days. You also drink water. Black coffee is permitted, too. The idea is that eating only apples will detox you or cleanse your system of its toxins. We’ve done this diet many times before, but not in several years. Now in our mid-sixties, battened down against COVID-19, limited in diversions because travel is restricted, we thought we’d entertain ourselves by eating only apples. I mean, I’ve been working on a jigsaw puzzle, but the pieces don’t taste as good as apples. I’m doing this to be a supportive husband, though. That’s what I tell myself. Several times a day.
We went out on Thursday and bought a variety of apples totaling enough for two people eating six apples a day for three days. That makes some number that is two times six times three. Beyond that, it’s pretty easy. Put six apples into a bowl each morning. Peel off the stickers, wash it, slice it up, and eat it when you’re hungry.
It’s not bad, as diets go. (That’s what I tell myself. Several times a day.) Limited in scope and duration. Easy to follow. And we like apples. I wouldn’t want to do it for longer than three days, though, although I do like the cleanup. Much easier than the messes made by plant-based burgers, pasta, fish, etc.
The most interesting part of this are the looks received from the cats when I bring in a plate of sliced apples. They’re like “Hey, what do we got?” Sniffing is exercised. Then comes the stare. The stare says, “Seriously? Where’s the real food?” The stare is fraught with betrayal and disappointment.
“I know how you feel,” I answer. Their expressions change to pity. One of them pushed a piece of kibble to me.
Seriously, the apple diet is not bad. That’s what I tell myself. It’s. Not. That. Bad. At least I still have coffee.
Floofchief
Floofchief (floofinition) – 1. Playful misbehavior or troublemaking by an animal, especially in a pet.
In use: “The big dog and little cat were full of floofchief, chasing and ambushing one another, but also chasing the children, and letting the children chase them.”
2. Cloth used to clean off an animal.
In use: “Sebastian was known to slobber and drool — he was a big old dog — so it wasn’t surprising that Sid carried a floofchief around to tend Sebastian whenever necessary.”
Vifloofperation
Vifloofperation (floofinition) – Ann animal’s sustained and bitter railing, especially about imagined slights.
In use: “They had to close the puppy in a room because of a party, and the little canine immediately set up an unholy vifloofperation, clawing at the door, barking, whining, and howling.”
Michael Seidel, writer 