Tag: cats

Thursday’s Theme Music

A Steve McQueen sort of quiet cool reigns today, Thursday, March 24, 2022. The sun spit some rays into the sky at 7:08 AM. Light came up but warmth is still to follow. We’re sitting at 47 F but are expecting a high of 74. Hazy blue rules over us, with a few larger clouds peeking around the ridges but it looks like we’re set for a day of sunshine. Sunset comes at 7:28 PM.

The cats are quiet today. Sick cat lingers on. He gave me a scare last night. I’d let him out the front to enjoy some fresh air. I was with him, then turned my back for a minute, and he was gone. I thought, I’ll probably never see him again. Broke my heart thinking of him out there in the cold, waiting to die. I cursed myself for my stupidity. My spouse and I donned flashlights and walked around, searching and calling for forty-five minutes. He neither showed nor answer. Then, lo’, two hours later, he was back at the front door.

I’ve been meditating on of my friend’s death, and my short history with him. I’ve only known him ten years. He was an intelligent, earnest, amiable guy. I met him through Brains on Beer, an informal group of retired scientists and engineers who like to drink beer and talk science, the arts, and politics. I was member number seven. Only one of the original six remain, but we’ve managed to expand to twelve. I advocated setting up a gofundme to take donations in his name for some of his charities, and the others agreed, so I’ll be doing that today.

These losses — the friend and sick cat’s waning battle — set me on a mental memory roadshow. Before living on Oregon, I lived in California for fourteen years. After moving to Oregon, business kept taking me to California for a few more years, so I have California on my mind. My neurons noticed and now “California Dreamin'” by the Mamas and the Papas (1965) in on the morning mental music stream’s PA system. It’s been featured as theme music before, but it’s a solid song and will work again. I like this video of it from the Ed Sullivan Show. Hope you enjoy it, too.

And now the neurons are whispering, “Pardon, sir, might we have a bit o’coffee for the blood?” Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the shots as needed. Have a better one. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Today is Wednesday, March 23, 2022. I’m still processing my friend’s death yesterday, Mike. It’s remote and abstract to me at this point, astonishing and bewildering. My neurons follow paths for what it must be like in Ukraine as people lose their friends and loved ones suddenly to gunfire and explosion. That life is so treasured to us, that people’s deaths leave such gaping holes, that we work so hard on medicine and health, exercising and dieting to prevent sickness and death, and then that humans kill one another for bizarre fucking reasons when other avenues of co-existence are available, renders me to sighs and head shaking.

A faded azure sky embraces the sun. Full spring is in effect. Sunrise came at 7:09 AM and sunset will take at 7:26 PM. It’s 56 degrees F right now, on its way to a 68 F high. Should be a lovely day.

My beer group is meeting tonight. Mike was a large part of that. Plans had been made for me to hand off a book that was loaned to me, giving it to Mike because he was visiting with the book’s owner. Now, change.

Meanwhile sick cat steadily declines. Eating is next to impossible for him due to tumors. I have the back door open, and he made his way out to sit in the sunshine on the patio. Papi has made a solid recovery. I had the door open yesterday afternoon, and that boy galloped in and out, tail up, playing hide and seek with me. Tucker is solidly recovered, too, reclaiming his space on the bed by my head last night, talking to me this morning about his food and drink requirements, and eating with gusto.

My cheeky neurons are playing Del Shannon’s “Runaway” from 1961 in the morning mental music stream. I was five when it came out, but it was a big hit and part of the AM rock and roll rotation for years.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Today is March 20, 2022. Eleven days left before the March madness ends and the April antics begin.

Sunday lived up to its name this morning in the valley with the sun briskly slathering golden light on the greening hills and trees promptly at 7:14 AM. The expected warmth was slower to follow. Overnight lows at my house was 32 F, and it’s just 35 now. We expect a high of 52. Sunset will close the show at 7:23 on the day’s other end. It’s not a clear blue sky, but a gray hazed one where azure dominates.

I read last night that we’re in a megadrought, the worse in 1200 years in the continental U.S. It began in the west, California, Oregon, etc., and is spreading. Fortunately, our local civic leaders have taken note and approved more housing. We don’t have water for the folks here now, but hey, let’s crowd more in. Development, growth, you know: it’s good for business. Of course, the business won’t be good when the wildfires start and smoke fills the skies and drive everyone away, but they apparently don’t think that’s gonna happen this year. Not after it’s happened so many times in recent years. Why, what are the chances?

Sorry, let me turn off the snark mode.

Another article mentioned that the glaciers and icecaps were melting in both Antartica and the Arctic this year, so we’ve got that going for us. Temperatures in Antarctica were 70 degrees warmer than normal, and those in the Arctic were 50 above normal.

On the sick cat front, he bounced back and started eating and drinking yesterday afternoon. After a lethargic start to the day, he grew increasingly spirited. I’ve fed him several times this morning. He’s now at my feet asking for me. Excuse me, gotta got attend a cat. It’s the rule.

Back. You probably didn’t even notice I was gone, did you. Quick as a cat, I was.

I have a Gin Blossoms tune from 1992 in the morning mental music stream. The neurons pulled up “Hey Jealousy” as they watched Tucker sulking as sick cat was fed and given attention. Tucker was all, “What about me? Give me more food. Pet me more, damn it. I’m numero uno in this hold.” I did what I could for him, of course, but Boo is hanging on to his life. (Writing that caused the neurons to bring up The Guess Who with “Hang On to Your Life” from 1970. The neurons are busy this morning.)

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. My wife is immune compromised so we’ll still being masking up for a while as we watch the situation evolve as the masks come off. Here’s the tune. I’m off for coffee. Gotta give the neurons something to settle them down. Cheers

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Dayfloof Savings Time

Dayfloof Savings Time (DST) (floofinition) A practice among animals to sleep during the day so they’ll have more energy to run around at night.

In use: “Although not all animals have adopted Dayfloof Savings Time, it’s very popular among cats, who find that it allows them to get many things done at night, when humans aren’t around to interfere.”

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Friday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Catday, Cat 18, 2022. Oh, wait, scratch it and start again. It’s Friday, March 18, 2022. Just feels like cat day because. Cats.

This was the night of three cats. It started, of course, with Papi. Two weeks ago, the young ginger was seriously sick. Well, he’s baa-aack. Got me up to let him in and out, in and out, throughout the night. That prompted sick cat to ask for food and attention, which was given, per the Foofneva Convention on the Treatment of Floofs. Through it all, head cat, Tucker, was a constant presence, monitoring it all so that he could report back to the FBI (Floof Bureau of Investigations) on what I did. Each time that I returned to bed, he joined me, rubbing his nose against my chin, nose, and fingers, ticking my cheeks with his whiskers.

Tucker also performed some impressive performance art this morning. Called ‘The Missing Bowl’, he sat between two bowls of food before the space where a third bowl should be and stared straight down at the empty space caused by the missing bowl. It was so moving that I moved one of the other bowls to the empty space. Satisfied that his art had delivered his message, he ate.

The sequence of waking, rising, and returning to bed multiple times did provide opportunity to notice the moon. It was like a spotlight was shining against the blinds. At 5:45, I opened one to ensure that the police weren’t spotting the house with a bright light (be like the cats to call the cops as a prank). Lo, an almost full moon blazed in the southwestern indigo sky. Just a small slice off the bottom stalled its right to be called a full moon. Its clarity was sharp. I could see seas and plains, and so stayed a few minutes to admire it before closing my eyes and falling asleep standing there. I awoke with Tucker rubbing his face on my toes.

Sunrise came at 7:18 later that morning, and sunset is expected at 7:21 PM. Temperatures were cold during the night. We’re up to 37 F now and a high of 65 is forecast. Clouds are milling like people waiting for the doors to open and the sun is struggling to shine.

The neurons have dug out a 1996 song by Better Than Ezra called “Desperately Wanting”. The moon inspired the neurons. Or, the scene really, because I thought the grass looked damp out there, and then remembered, “running through the wet grass” as a child. A neuron jumped up and shouted, “I know that song,” and here we are.

I was going to go to a coffee house this morning to write, the first time in a while that I have, but I’m tired. We’ll see after I have a cuppa coffee. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, when needed, and get the vax and boosters. Here’s the music. Cheese. I mean, Cheers

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Flooftortion

Flooftortion (floofinition) – The skill of bending and twisting one’s limbs body into strange and unnatural positions to accommodate actions or functions associated with an animal.

In use: “Once he opened a can, the floofs were right there, waiting to be fed, underfoot, forcing him into flooftortions to avoid stepping on them or tripping over them as their meal was delivered.”

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Floofarm

Floofarm (floofinition) – Medical condition where an arm becomes stiff, sore, or numb because of the unwillingness to move it because of an animal. Related: Floorleg, flooffoot, floofbutt

In use: “Despite a serious case of floofarm setting in (and getting ravenous and having a bladder screaming for sweet release), Rikki refused to move because she didn’t want to disturb the puppy napping in her arms.”

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Unemfloofed

Unemfloofed (floofinition) – A place absent of animals.

In use: “As humane treatment of and respect for animals and their rights rise, there are fewer unemfloofed homes around the world, a victory for both animals seeking safety and security, and people who enjoy animals’ company and beauty.” – from The Floof Street Journal, August 17, 2014, “What Do the New Unemfloofment Numbers Mean?”

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Copyfloof

Copyfloof (floofinition) – An animal who mimics others or who does everything that they do.

In use: “Many kittens and puppies become copyfloofs for a while as the learn how to be by duplicating Mom’s behavior.”

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