I have many adventures in feral cat rescue and meeting interesting people is part of the adventure. Now don’t get me wrong; interesting isn’t always so great. Take, for instance, two bozos I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with who work at a local college.
Slinky, an elderly feral our nonprofit has been feeding for 10 years, lives under a bridge at the college. But the head honchos (the bozos) have always prohibited us from offering him shelter. Why, you ask? Because they have their heads up their butts. I’m talkin’ way, way up there.
Five years ago, under a rural grocery store, I trapped a kitten I named Tippi. That day, I helped her escape living a feral life. At midnight on New Year’s Day, I brought Tippi to pet emergency where I was with her when, 13 hours later, she left this life.
This outcome is hard for me to comprehend because Tippi didn’t appear to be ill and just weeks ago had her yearly well-check. She was prone to upper respiratory infections but that was nothing new, having come from a sickly colony. So her passing was unexpected.
Her favorite nappng place
Not even a week ago Tippi attempted, for the 100th time, to climb the tree in the family room. As usual, I yelled at her to get down and as usual, she obliged. That same day, she sunned herself on the bench in my backyard. A couple days later she was a different cat; not eating, throwing up, barely able to walk, hiding…
Wishing she had something to knock off the counter
Our trip to the vet revealed Tippi in kidney failure. They ran every test imaginable but were dumbfounded as to the cause. The ultra sound was fine but her creatinine levels were off the charts. You might be asking yourself how Tippi’s death fits into a humor blog. You’re right, it doesn’t. So to remedy that, let me tell you how Tippi lived. Continue reading
Let me repeat: My pets are weirdos.
So what does that say about me? After all, I’m the common denominator. Now don’t get me wrong; that doesn’t mean I think Nellie, Callie, Skip, Wally, Oliver, Savannah, Tippi and Jack are flawed. Quite the contrary. They may be odd but they provide endless entertainment through their weirdness. And anyway, aren’t we all a little odd? Therefore, I’ll gladly take credit for their, shall we say, “unique qualities.”
As you all know, Nellie eats poop so I’m used to that weird trait of hers. But another thing she does (when she thinks I’m not looking) is to leap onto the bed immediately after I’m done making it. She gathers the sheets and comforter into a tiny mountain in the middle of the bed, then plops herself on it and promptly takes a nap. A particularly annoying weirdness…
Rather proud of herself
Time flies. At least that’s what they say. And I think I believe them because I just realized it’s been 3 months since I had an idea I wanted to translate into a blog post. Can you believe that? Ninety days…twelve weeks…that’s 2160 hours, if my math is correct. But since I suck at math, I could be wrong.
Now don’t get me wrong, even though I just said I could be. I actually had plenty of ideas from early July until today. At least, I’m assuming I did. Who can remember? But I suppose after blogging once a week for 5 1/2 years, I needed a break. And who knows, maybe you did too. But life is getting busier and finding time to write late at night was about as likely to happen as me eating meat.
Therefore, if you are one of my roughly 100 devoted readers, you’ll notice I’ve been reprinting posts mostly from 2013. I mean come on, I barely remember them so I’m guessing you didn’t either. And more importantly, you probably weren’t a reader of mine, as I only had about 30 back then. So for you, my old posts were brand new and for me they were a welcome respite. Continue reading
Originally posted in July, 2013
I went to church on Sunday.
Now don’t get me wrong. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but to those who know me, it’s practically a miracle. You see, I haven’t been to the Big House in a couple years.I used to be one of those holiday church-goers. You know the type; we attend for Christmas and Easter. Then it got to where I only appeared for weddings and funerals. But I’m relatively certain last Sunday wasn’t a holy holiday and nobody I know died or got hitched. Continue reading