Category Archives: Humor

Our Sweet Boy

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For 7 years, our Marin Friends of Ferals volunteers have fed an orange cat (OC) living behind a theater in Novato. He was originally part of a sterilized feral cat colony across the freeway so we trapped and returned him, but he headed back to the theater. That OC is an independent fellow.

A couple months ago, the visiting CEO discovered our feeding station and demanded we promptly remove it, along with OC. Sadly, just like The Grinch, his heart is two sizes too small. When we ignored his demand, he had his employees throw away our feeding station. So we put out another. It, too, disappeared. Rinse and repeat.

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The Hits Just Keep on Comin’

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This blog was originally posted in October, 2016. I’m sure you don’t remember it, so enjoy!

I promise this will be my last Wally blog entry for a while. Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t return him to the humane society. I’m not that cold-hearted. Frankly I’m surprised the idea even crossed your mind because it’s never crossed mine. But let me tell ya, I’m beginning to think Wally’s previous owner neglected to divulge some of the Wallster’s less desirable behaviors.

wally-on-stairs

Caught in the act

As you read last Sunday, Wally is challenged in a few areas: peeing and pooping in the house, not coming when called, chewing anything he can fit into his mouth, barking at strangers, car sickness, fear of rain, stealing food from my plate…

and-the-hits-just-keep-on-comin2

Wally’s previous owner returned him saying his car sickness was a deal breaker since he planned to take Wally to work with him. To that I say phooey! And I never say phooey. My guess is he couldn’t handle the truth — Wally isn’t easy. These days I keep reminding myself nothing worthwhile ever is. Continue reading →

I Spy

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Many moons ago a couple girlfriends and I were faced with a dilemma. We believed a friend’s wife was having an affair. Outraged but intrigued, we realized we had a couple options: we could mind our own business or we could do something about it. Being stupid, young and bored, you can guess what we chose.

After much planning, which we found disturbingly exciting, we decided to act and met up one night, dressed in dark clothing because all spies need to stay incognito, right?

So when the alleged cheater got off work, we tailed her, careful to keep an unnoticeable distance. All those detective programs paid off because she had no clue we were 3 cars behind her. Spying was an exhilarating adrenaline rush. That feeling, however, quickly dissolved into heartbreak when we followed her to her boyfriend’s home.

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The Curse of the Gravitational Pull

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Did you see the full moon last Sunday? Wasn’t it magnificent? I don’t know much about full moons, except that they cause high tides because of the lunar gravitational pull on oceans facing the moon. But that’s not all.

Researchers discovered that during a full moon, people spend 30% less time in deep sleep (known as NREM sleep) and sleep for 20 minutes less than nights without a full moon. Could this explain why people seem a little more loony than usual during full moons? Could 20 minutes less sleep really cause that?

Now don’t get me wrong; this post isn’t meant to be educationally enlightening, as the extent of my knowledge concerning full moons is quite meager. But what I’ve noticed during this once a month event is that people seem more agitated, annoyed and grouchy, to name some not-so-pleasant behavior changes. I can’t blame it on 20 minutes of less sleep, as I myself am lucky to get 5 hours a night, yet I think I’m a rather pleasant person regardless of limited shut-eye. But evidently a full moon actually does wreak havoc on us — the gravitational pull and all that. If it can affect our tides, why can’t it make some of us a little more anxious and irritable?

Thus is the extent of my full moon knowledge
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The Kiss of Death

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Have you ever driven down the freeway and thought to yourself: Wow, there’s hardly any traffic today. How lucky am I? And then you crest the hill only to witness a mass of cars seemingly attached like miles-long sausages. Or, if you brag to friends about rarely getting sick or injured, you’ve pretty much just guaranteed the next day you’ll get the flu and fall down the stairs.

Why do I bring this up? Because a couple weeks ago I had the audacity to actually say to someone, “I’ve been so fortunate these 39 years in my home because very little has gone wrong that needed fixing.” And that was, in 4 little words,

Now don’t get me wrong; a fire didn’t demolish my residence. The roof didn’t blow off during the huge storm we endured a few weeks ago. No trees fell on my car; nothing that bad. But apparently simply commenting about one’s good fortune just about guarantees it will soon change. I was never a true believer of that myth, until now. And here’s why…

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