I have an announcement to make: We have all been lied to, duped and deceived. Yes, dear friends, you heard it here first. I hate to be the one to burst your bubble but you know how they always say bad things come in sets of threes? Well, they were wrong. Very wrong.
That’s because I just had a very unlucky month. And it didn’t end after the third hit, when I relaxed a little believing my streak was over. Far from it. The hits just kept on coming. But such is life.
Let me complain, I mean explain…it started with little stuff not really worth mentioning. But you know I will anyway. Continue reading →
Everyone has something to say and they want people to know it. And that’s what cars are for. I’m talking about bumper stickers and those triangular yellow signs suction-cupped to car windows, specifically the ones that say Baby on Board. I hate those signs. Really now, people. What’s the purpose of those? I’d appreciate someone explaining them to me because I think they’re possibly the stupidest signs ever created in the history of signs.
Perhaps you think I’m being harsh and maybe I am. But when I’m driving down the freeway and see that particular sign, I want to egg that car. (And I think there’s a good chance I’d hit my target, having been a softball shortstop for 10 years.) Then I’d watch with a smile on my face as the gelatinous slime rolls down the window, disappearing into those hard-to-reach crevices. And I’d hardly feel guilty at all.
Sometimes it’s Saturday afternoon and I’m not sure what I’ll write for my Sunday blog. It posts at 6:00 a.m. Sunday morning and time’s a-wastin’. That’s when panic covers me like a bad rash. I have no words (I know, rare huh?), no photos to contribute, no ideas to share. Zilch.
I’ve been writing this blog for nearly 2 years. That means I’ve written close to 100 of them. That may not seem like many to you. But let me tell ya, when one has been running around all week chasing after tennis balls and feral cats, having to post a 600 word essay on Saturday night is, I admit, one of those rude awakening moments. Continue reading →
I imagine it’s also a bit like having a baby in the house, but I wouldn’t actually know – not having had one myself. I’m probably way off base even suggesting they’re remotely similar. So let’s just pretend I never made that analogy, shall we? Suffice it to say fostering takes perseverance. But in the end it’s definitely all worth it.
I’ve yet to name my newest foster. Here’s why: if he doesn’t become socialized enough to get adopted, it’s somehow easier for me to give him up to become an outdoor cat. I’d then acclimate him to his new digs through a process called relocation. That translates into a 3-week holding period on the property of the folks who have agreed to let him live in their yard. Once released, he’ll be given food, water and shelter while he also hunts rodents. It’s a win-win. Except for the rodents.
Now before you get all excited, let me clarify: it’s not with a man. And no, it’s not a woman either. And although I’m passionate about animals, a 4-legged creature is not what has captured my heart. Actually, it’s a state; Colorado, to be precise.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I don’t love California anymore. That will never happen. I’m a Californian through and through. But after a recent first visit to Boulder, Breckenridge and Vail, call me…