The Joys of a Generous Cat

Previously posted in 2013

 

The gift giver

The gift giver

My cat Oliver likes to bring me presents. But not the good kind like a bracelet or See’s milk chocolate Molasses Chips. No, he prefers gifts that are alive, such as the mouse he once brought to my bedroom.

It happened while I was drifting off to sleep. I felt something squirming in my pillowcase. Can you imagine? I’m sure the mouse was hiding from Oliver and I don’t blame him one bit. But talk about nightmares…

Oliver, wouldn’t you rather eat tuna?

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What Was I Thinking?

I ask you…what the hell was I thinking

Life was rolling along nice and easy. Well, easy is not the correct adjective. Let’s just say life was rolling along. The thing is, I have 8 animals, run a nonprofit, trap feral cats throughout the week, relocate those that need new homes, help care for my disabled sister, play team tennis and am nursing a pesky sciatica which, like a jilted lover, is having trouble letting go.

just let go

Dear sciatica…

So I don’t know what I was thinking deciding to have my hardwood floors refinished last week. Had I forgotten it was a pain in the keister 13 years ago when it was last done? Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t be blogging about it today.

Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like my floors were embarrassingly scratched and faded, causing me to refuse entry to family and friends. No doubt theirs, too, are scratched and faded. Whose aren’t? Especially those of us with pets that refuse to let us clip their nails without being in a straight jacket or heavily sedated. Continue reading

My Antenna Theory

Many moons ago, Jim, my ex-hubby and I had an old TV antenna on our roof, left by the previous homeowners. It was a huge metal eyesore, not connected to anything but the chimney, I suppose for support. Why it was still there? What purpose did it serve? Here’s my theory…

antenna

I believe that antenna’s sole purpose was to emit some sort of vibration recognized only by the dogs of Marin County. When they heard this silent emission, I envisioned German Shepherds jumping their backyard fences and Beagles leaping out open windows all in search of our front porch. I tell ya, if there was a stray dog within a mile, it seemed to end up at our house.

shepherd jumping fence

Now don’t get me wrong; not only did strays wander into our yard but I also spotted them (and still do) while driving about town. Knowing I’m an animal lover, Jim was convinced I enticed them with treats hidden in my car trunk or some such nonsense. I would never do that. I prefer to keep all treats in the glove compartment. Continue reading

Kicking the Bucket

What can I say? It was a busy week. No time to write…so here’s a post from 4 years ago. Trust me, if I don’t remember it, you won’t either. Enjoy!

Brace yourself, for I have some bad news. Ready?…. I’m going to die.

There, I said it. Like removing a band-aid, I think it’s best to do it quickly. Just get it over with. That’s not to imply I’m intending to kill myself. No, I’m too selfish for that. Besides, I still have a Southwest Rewards flight I’ve yet to use. Continue reading

Whirlpool Sucks. And Other Things I Learned this Week

  • Never ride your scooter on the freeway in a tank top when you’re 62 years old. And when you have upper arms that, on a good day, flap around like fish out of water. Add whipping winds while you’re scooting at 50 mph and what you get is slapped silly by your own arms. I tell you, it’s not a pretty sight. Soon you’ll find yourself riding down the freeway with your arms pinned close to your sides so as not to cause a pile up when motorists look on in horror.
flappy arms

Okay, I changed my mind. Maybe my arms aren’t so bad after all

  • Do not attempt, on a Wednesday, to push your 153 lb. sister in a wheelchair DOWN Sacramento Street in San Francisco, especially after receiving the wrong directions to your destination. You will be on your heels the entire journey, mimicking one of those barefoot water skiers, in your attempt to prevent your sister from careening down a steep city street like Steve McQueen’s car in the movie, Bullitt. Now don’t get me wrong; what goes down must come up. All 153 lbs. UPHILL, in a wheelchair.
Bullit chase

Pretty much like this

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