Welcome Home, OC

I’ve been on a cat kick these days. Not exactly a surprise since they occupy a good part of my day. But each story is unique and in this tale, the life of OC (Orange Cat) is exactly that. I promise next week my post won’t include anything containing fur or with four legs.

Many years ago, OC showed up in a small colony of ferals living behind a movie theater. We trapped him, scanned his microchip, and returned him to his registered guardian who had 20-something ferals. Seems OC isn’t a social butterfly, so he hightailed it back to his preferred stomping grounds.

Over the years, our dedicated group of volunteers fed the cats their daily meal. As time passed and colony cats died, OC was like the Energizer Bunny who just keeps on going. So eventually, he lived out there alone.

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Steady as She Goes

Every muscle in my body is screaming. They’re not at all happy with me today. That’s because I started running again after a long lay-off from a knee injury and general laziness. Actually, running is too strong a word for what I actually do. It’s more like a slow jog. Some might even consider it meandering.

I’ve always been a slow runner. Even when I was training for a couple sprint triathlons with my bionic friends, Pam and Margo, I never became faster over the months. They assured me if I kept it up and did interval training I’d get quicker. Didn’t happen. A million years ago I was a miler on my high school track team. But I wasn’t fast then either. I think I’m programmed for endurance. Except for now, when my endurance is on hiatus.

Anyway, in school I had absolutely no talent for running and never practiced except when the team did. And even then I spent more time gabbing with friends than actually doing any running. It was more a social event for me than anything. Still, I could keep up with the pack for the first half mile but that’s where they lost me. I think my fastest time was a dismal 7.5 minute mile. Talk about embarrassing.

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