Firefloof(floofinition) – 1. Animal who enjoys fires.
In use: “Jade was such a firefloof that she needed to be monitored around the fireplace to ensure that she didn’t just go ahead and climb in it.”
2. An animal whose color or patterns bring to mind fire or flames.
In use: “Sly was a true firefloof, with an unusual color that made many think the small Finish Spitz was a fox at first glance.”
3. A class of ships used to secretly transport animals.
In use: “The firefloof class ship, Serenity, was often used to find and remove animals from abusive situations. Cloaked and commanded by Captain Floofy ‘Floof’ Reynolds, the ship was never seen, but stayed in constant motion on its mission to help other animals.”
Exflooftion(floofinition) – 1. State of deep sleep enjoyed by animals.
In use: After eating and grooming, the floofs found comfortable places for exflooftion, staying there for hours with barely any movement.
2. Exhausted state caused by animal behavior or worry about animal(s).
In use: “Noticing his dog didn’t eat with the same gusto, he began watching his fur buddy’s behavior for signs of illness, staying up late and awakening often, bringing exflooftion on him.”
Floof Jockey (floofinition) – Individual(s) responsible for maintaining order among animals and taking care of them.
In use: “In many households, floof jockey duties such as feeding, cleaning litter boxes, and exercise, are divided among children to help develop a sense of responsibility.”
Someday has come. Without work, without church, without routines save the one to get out and write again, my world has a narrow scope. Days on end seem the same, domino pieces with the same number of dots in the same order. Specifics like weather change, sometimes adding to the experience. Anyway, we’re planning a cruise — well, looking for one — after putting it off for a few years due to COVID. Just a small cruise, right, to feel the ocean’s roll and look at the expanse and remind myself how tiny I am. We’ll still working on our moving plans, but that’s going to consume a lot of energy. I’m not deeply into it yet.
It’s Sunday, Feb 5, 2023. Breakfast was already consumed, a bit of cantaloup and a cinnamon raisin bagel, and the coffee was drunk. News has been perused. Rain fell through the night, replenishing more local reservoirs and cisterns. Snow accumulates in the snowpack. 40 F now, under a gray crown, looking for 50 later. Sunrise and sunset are 7:20 AM and 5:30 PM. Celebrating a friend’s new grandchild, number four for him. He and his family are very pleased. I’m happy and excited because they’re happy and excited. It’s contagious stuff.
Didn’t sleep well, dealing with floofquests to go in and out, to be fed and petted, loved on and played with. They don’t want to recognize that I’m a day creature. “Come join us at night,” they urge.
“It’s dark and I can’t see,” I reply.
“Don’t worry, we’ll help you. Mind that hairball. It’s fresh.”
A bright moon was a break-out hit at one point. Outside with Papi, enjoying the fresh rain-enlivened air, Papi said, “See? There’s plenty of light. What is that over there? What the hell, I’m out of here.” He scurried back, leaving me standing there and staring, mumbling to myself, “What is it? I don’t see anything. Papi? Papi?”
I was also wringing hands over editing decisions and book directions, cursing my novel as a vile creature that needs to be buried. It’s all good, just the process. A looonnngggg process sometimes. Out of this, The Neurons have directed a song from the last century into the morning mental music stream. “Epic” by Faith No More was released in 1990. I was still assigned to Germany at the time, and the song was hugely popular with the troops rotating in as part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm. It was heard often and loud.
Here’s the music. Stay pos and enjoy Sunday as best as you can. I will. Sort of. Cheers.
Pawzer (floofinition) – Floof term for a large and powerful individual, essentially comparing them to a German Panzer tank from the WWII era.
In use: “Encountering Bruno, the big dog which the kittens were to live with, all reacted to the pawzer with spitting and hissing, claws drawn, daring him to come closer. Though Bruno looked like a pawzer, he was sweet and relaxed, settling on the floor. Within a short while, the cats were using him as a mountain to play.”
Today is Groundhog Day in ‘Merica, which makes it Feb 2. It’s 2023, and Thursday.
Bright sunshine warming the house and beaming the windows bolstered my spirits. Flipping to another piece of weather script, winds shout and moan like football fans when there’s an interception. Current temp is 47 F but it feels like 43, with the sun and air lifting us up to 53 F later, which will probably feel like something else. 7:23 AM witnessed the sun’s breakthrough moment over Ashlandia. It’ll be 5:27 PM when the Earth’s action takes our sunshine away.
The Neurons are singing “My Baby Loves Lovin'” in the morning mental music stream. The pop hit hit when I was feeding the cats their kibble and sang, “My kitties love kibble,” as they chowed through the morning offering.
Looking up this song was required. I had a scant idea that it was released probably around 1970 but no idea who released it. Fortunately I have access to this thing called the web. It managed to produce facts that the song was released in 1970 by a Brit band called White Plains. Disagreement surrounds the lead vocalist. Was it Tony Burrow? I didn’t know the man’s name, but there are claims that he was lead vocalist for five different bands who had one number one song each. I’d never heard of this before. Besides this song, there were “Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)” by Edison Lighthouse in 1970; “Gimme Dat Ding” (1970) by the Pipkins; “Beach Baby” by the First Class, another 1970 hit; and “United We Stand” by the Brotherhood of Man, 1970. However, some of Burrow’s claims about his participation is doubted and seems exaggerated. He might be the George Santos of 1970 pop.
Coffee has touched down at my side. One cat is hovering close, reporting back to Floof HQ about my activities. The other has braved the wind for a secret meeting. Stay positive. Here’s the hit. Cheers
He liked creating games out of the things he did. Arriving at the coffee shop, he noted the parked cars. The game was, ‘Whose Car is This?’ He liked matching cars with the individuals inside.
Another regular game was Sock Toss when he put clothes away after the laundry was done. He had a .600 average.
The oddest game was probably sneak up on the cats. Tucker wasn’t included much any longer. He was old and slept deeply. Papi was his usual target, but the little ginger usually moved ears and lifted his head to smile at him before he was within three feet. Papi knew the game, and he always won.
Michael Seidel, writer 