Category Archives: cats

Share Your World, July 23, 2018

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Yolanda and Pasiano assembling my new desk chair. Just a glimpse of Morrie supervising.

In regards to puzzles, what’s your choice: jigsaw, crossword, word search, mazes, logic or numeric puzzles, something else, or nothing?

I love doing jigsaw puzzles with my sister and brother-in-law at Xmas. Visiting friends usually get sucked into the addiction as well. This was a tradition between my sister and me when we were growing up. I also love logic problems and crossword puzzles. Writing rhymed and metered poetry is definitely a puzzle as well and actually my favorite.

List at least five favorite treats and it doesn’t necessarily have to be food.

Movies, Spider Solitaire, Thai Food, Ice Cream, Road Trips, Mexican Train.

What is your favorite type of dog? (can be anything from a specific breed, a stuffed animal or character in a movie)

I love little dogs but with two exceptions seem to have always had bigger ones. I’ve always had dogs that just showed up and adopted me so I’ve never had much of a choice. I have a black Lab mix and a Scottie now. They are both pretty cool.

What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week?  Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination. 

The young cats have been spending a good deal of time inside, and always manage to fall into classic cat poses:

Click on the photos to enlarge them and to see captions.

 

For Cee’s Share Your World Challenge, July 23, 2018

The Wings of Hummingbirds

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The Wings of Hummingbirds

They break my heart,
these delicate wings of hummingbird
strewn on my porch
with a tiny head displaying one beak,
one eye.

Stripped of adornment,

one slight hummingbird
would hardly make a meal for a cat—
especially one recently fed at my kitchen door. 

Where was I when this travesty

was committed,
carried out by  a cat
true to its nature
and therefore bearing no sin?

I was out back,
 filling the hummingbird feeder left by guests,
though I prefer the natural sight
of hummingbirds feeding at the aloe blossoms
or thunbergia or frangipani.
 
 In the fenced backyard,
the dogs create a territory safe from cats,
but what am I to do about the obelisco plant I love so much in front—
 the one spied every day with a new bloom
as I walk past it to my car? 
What’s to be done for the royal poinciana,
seventeen years old,
spreading its shelter over street and wall and front garden alike?
A dangerous draw in a yard frequented by cats.
What’s to be done?
Defrock the area they roam in to make it hummingbird-free?

That double-pronged nature of cats—
their beauty and their savagery––
displayed so vividly in man himself of late––
 can it be anything but plan?
And to what purpose?
We love the ways of nature but turn our back on half of them,
hoping they will not be demonstrated in our lives.
Until that one last fatal claw of fate descends upon us
and we fall into that scheme, resisting,
but our efforts futile.

Why are endings necessary?
Why must our hearts be broken
 time and again
before they themselves are the breaking thing
and we pass into nature,
undivided, part of a whole both savage and tragic in its beauty. 
Here is the hummingbird whole.
 The cat whole.
Here are we, whole, observing them.
That has to be enough. 
The now. This look.
This touch. This satiation for the moment.
The hummingbird before the slaughter,
the bone before the break.

3:30-5:10 A.M.

Click on first photo to enlarge all and see slide series.


3:30-5:10 A.M.

The calicos are crazy,
my bed a high hill in their racetrack 
that seems to extend down the long hall
from the  living room to here and back.  
They barrel over the bedclothes, over me,
leap to the desktop, rattling the glass case of a 
pre-Columbian clay jug.
The white cat lies serenely licking against my side,
then rises to knead my breast with sharp claws,
nibble fingers as I type.le,∑ß`099w≥. (Her added comment.)
The grey cat has brought something to my bed––a masticated mouse, perhaps.
Quickly, I cover it with the comforter to save it from the cat,
who careens on into another adventure.

I pull back its shroud, dreading what I will reveal,
to find half of the cover of my Xtech Card reader.
From the computer beside me, its guts still hang connected,
the SD card from my new camera still inside.
This is the last time the young cats sleep inside!

 

For Cee’s Which Way challenge..Which Way? Down the hallway and across the bed:

Life with Catz

The Daily Addiction prompt today is “indifferent.”  What, I ask you, is more indifferent than a cat? 
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Kukla likes to be close while I’m working.
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And to help with the dishes.. especially those that have held ice cream

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I haven’t perfected my feline vocabulary, but I think that when she took a short cut across the keys of the mac I was working on, that it was her attempt to sign her name.

 

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 mj///////////////////////////////////////////////////21Q%^^^^^^^^^AT66

 

(C)AT 66(6)?  Is she signing herself in as devil cat with the first and last characters deleted? Rather sinister.

 
 
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Acting nonchalant about the whole thing, she leaps on over to the closed lid of the Acer computer to wash up.

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 When Mom goes to brush her teeth, it’s a good time to go along and check out the comforts of the towel cupboard.

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 Then back to the living room for a slumber party with siblings.

Bearcat: dVerse Poets Open Link Night, May 4, 2018

daily life color163Bearcat, Bentley and Patti, 1987. The only way you could tell them apart was by their tails. Their mother’s tail bent to the left, Patti’s bent to the right, Bentley’s was zigzag and Bearcat’s was just straightly expressive.  Sweet babies. Bearcat is the one to your left.

Presently, I live with five cats. If you follow my blog, you’ve been seeing them off and on over the past year. The kittens unceremoniously dropped off by my garage door are now about a year old. They mainly reside outside in a sheltered garage in a cushy bed big enough to hold them all or a little cathouse I bought which once held them all but now mainly holds them one-by-one in an equally cushy bed.  

My oldest cat is Annie, now 16 years old and a bit cranky as she rules the roost as an inside cat.  She will allow the other cats inside only if they maintain their distance. About 6 times a day, she yowls her insistence at being served a small meal.  I comply.  She always gets a chin and ear rub first, then she returns to her cushy bed in the large bath/ shower of the bathroom of my bedroom.  Her litter tray and dishes are also there. I’ve pretty much been relegated to the guest bathroom.  

This poem, however, is for Bearcat–upon his death, the only surviving sibling of 4 Blue Burmese kittens that I was foster mother to from the time of their birth. Their mother, a wild cat, moved in with us long enough to give birth and stuck around until the kittens were well beyond weaning before she vanished again into the Redwood Forests of the San Lorenzo Valley near Santa Cruz, CA.  

Only Bearcat was still alive when I moved to Mexico in 2001. Sadly, he drowned in my pool a few months later.  I was devastated.  This was his epitaph, written as a string of kennings for a NaPoWriMo prompt in 2014.

Bearcat
1987-2002
R.I.P.

back lofter
tail wafter
gray bearer
drape tearer
ball loser

lap chooser
bunny slayer
shoelace player
sofa climber
sleep mimer
shadow springer
dragonfly bringer
lizard de-tailer
spider nailer
basement searcher
window ledge percher
tree dweller
mouse smeller
dog chaser
bug caser
door crack peeper
sunbeam sleeper
woods walker
squirrel stalker
rail balancer
prey glancer
shadow catcher
love hatcher
body spinner
heart winner

 

For the dVerse Poets open prompt.

How Many Cats?

You’ll want to see these movie stars of cats better.  Just click on the first photo and the whole slide series will be larger. Click through series with right hand arrow.

 

How Many Cats?

How many cats would you say is enough?
With which added cat does the going get tough?
What number of cats is simply too many?
Some would say “Five,” while others say, “Any.”
My old cat thinks one is the ultimate number.
That’s her on the red cushion having a slumber.
But Kukla and Frannie and Ollie and Roo
think having five cats is the right thing to do.
Annie may hate them, but they are sanguine.
Their sibling act is a well-oiled machine.
With one cat on my stomach and one on each knee,

don’t expect an impartial opinion from me.
It’s clear that my thinking is slightly off-kilter.
I simply don’t have an intact kitty-filter.
I have enough stools and pillows and mats
to accommodate a few additional cats.
The problem is whether one human’s enough
to serve as a mattress  for five balls of fluff!

 

(The two calicos are hard to tell apart.  Look at the last two photos in the first collage. The one with the black dot by her eye is Frannie. The one without is Kukla.  Bet you thought they were the same cat, huh? The first cat is Annie, the second one Ollie.  They look a bit alike as well. Roo is the white cat about to fall off the chair. There will be a test over this tomorrow.)

Typical

Typical Day

Bark of dog,
Meow of cat.
Mama-san
takes care of that
with pop of can
and clink of dishes.
After solving
all these wishes,
back to bed.
Write my blogs.
Out of bed.
Put on togs.
Make a smoothie.
Read E-mail.
Into town
for writers’ meetings.
Lots of words
and lots of greetings.
Home again
to write some more.
Pepe’s ringing
at my door.
Once a week
a heavenly rub.
Body restored,
soak in the tub.
Pat the cats,
throw balls for Morrie.
Write some more,
the same old story.
Talk to Dux
many a time
throughout the day.
Sometimes  with rhyme.
Midnight finds me
in the pool
under stars
and Morrie’s rule.
Throw the ball
for him to fetch.
Exercise, then
reach and stretch
to retrieve the ball
he throws at me.
Then loft it over
bush and tree
to lower garden
for him to find.
This is our nightly
pool grind.
Go in to bed
to write some more.
Get up to check
I’ve locked the door.
Other events
often occur.
Trips to the vet
to trim or cure.
Coffee with friends,
or dinner out.
trips to the shore,
without a doubt.
Lives grow and change
often with time.
So this is just
the paradigm.

The prompt word today is typical.