I received the most unusual and unexpected gift last week from someone I’ve never met. She knows me from the work I do with feral cats and is a friend of a friend. So why did she give me a gift? Be patient, I’m getting there…
Hold your horses
In this line of work, meaning TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return), I meet some interesting folks. Let’s just say not all of them particularly like cats. Some downright hate ’em. But then not everyone is perfect, right? Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying if you don’t like cats you’re a sociopath. But my guess is you’re probably close.
Anyway, my friend was telling this gift-giving person about my encounters with these as yet undiagnosed sociopaths. They’re the characters who not only make this work interesting, unpredictable, and a little bit scary, but have taught me I should learn self defense. Like yesterday already. I’ve intended to take classes for about 10 years now but have I done it? Intended is the operative word there.
Take THAT you cat hater
I can’t have nice things.
That’s because within months, sometimes weeks, they are no longer nice things. You see, I have a tendency to spill, rip, stain, break and generally ruin stuff.
unknown goop on my tennis top
On those rare occasions when I do have nice things, I try to be so careful that I usually end up doing exactly what I tried hard to avoid. Like being told not to think about the pink elephant in the room. Once it’s in your brain, that’s ALL you can think about.
Last week while gardening I got bit by a poisonous spider on my left thumb. My hand swelled to the size of Donald Trump’s head. I know, I know. I’m picking on the guy. But when I have such juicy material to work with, I simply can’t resist.Anyway, when the swelling appeared to cut off my circulation, I drove myself to the emergency room. At this point my hand was as hot as a fire iron and crimson red. I can’t tell you how scary and painful it was. Long story short, I’m now typing this blog with one less thumb.
Okay, okay, I’m lying. Need I remind you I said you won’t believe this? Well, I wasn’t lying about that. Unless you actually fell for my story and felt bad I lost my thumb. In that case, I’m sorry you’re gullible. Continue reading
I just found out my friend Pam is very likely a psychopath. What a total shocker. You’d think I would have recognized this sooner, wouldn’t you? We’ve been friends since high school for God’s sake. I played softball with her all through my 20s. We were in each other’s weddings and today she’s still one of my best friends. So why didn’t I notice something was amiss?
And she looks so normal…
I’m also a bit surprised Pam’s psychosis slipped by me because in college I minored in Abnormal Psychology. I know it’s been 40 years, but still…I’m sorta drawn to the crazy. Excuse me; I believe the politically correct term is unstable. My bad.
You may be wondering how I discovered this personality disorder in my good friend. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying she maimed anyone and subsequently displayed no outward signs of telltale guilt because of a lack of empathy or ability to relate to others. Continue reading
I have 4 cats and 4 dogs. All my cats were once living a feral life and of the 4, Savannah is still semi-feral. She heads for cover whenever someone stops by. If cats could cringe, that’s what she’d do when I pick her up. When all the others gather in the family room in the evening, she retires upstairs. I’d say she’s a cat who enjoys her own company.
During the day, the animals come and go through the pet door to enjoy the backyard. But then one day Savannah discovered how to access the front yard via the hot tub, a short leap onto the fence, a walk alongside the shed, then down into the front garden under the maple tree.
Savannah’s garden escape
To Savannah, I suppose it felt like the feline version of the movie, The Shawshank Redemption.