When I first met Spot he was walking across a six-lane street during rush hour, headed towards the median. Cars were whizzing by him, but he seemed not to notice the imminent danger.
Or maybe he just didn’t care. (This will make sense later, just consider it Clue #1.)
Most people slowed down to let him pass, but no one stopped. Something was obviously wrong – he wasn’t even trying to fly as he ambled in front of the moving cars. I couldn’t believe no one was stopping to help him.
Well, I’m a sucker for a wounded animal, or a man with issues. It must be the caretaker in me.
I pulled over, and captured the pigeon in a towel. (A pity it isn’t so easy to capture a man.) I put him inside a box I had in my car. The pigeon, not a man. Unfortunately. But, wait! There’s more…
Can we really say a monkey who takes our drinks is a thief? An alcoholic, yes, but it needs to be breaking a law to be committing a crime and considered a thief. Last I heard they were no laws governing what monkeys can or cannot do. They’re allowed to drink and drive because they’re not expressly prohibited from doing so.
Yes, my new job is with attorneys. Sorry, I’ll stop now.
Ok, on with the show… uh, so to speak. (The NSFW stuff follows…) But, wait! There’s more…
I am owned by a cat. Those of you who know me well know Checkers, The Kibble Wrangler, is my world.
Yes, I am a crazy cat lady.
Love me, love the cat. It’s a package deal.
Now that we’ve established that, realize that she can do little wrong. This will become evident as this story progresses.
My sister, Chickenbone, used to always ask, “How can you have a cat? There’s that whole stinky litter box that needs to be scooped all the time, there’s the barfing on the carpet. All that’s just gross.” (I retorted with some quip about children and diapers. I do not have kids. She now has a cat/litter box and a kid/diapers. I win.)
Yes, kitty poop is gross, as is the occasional cling-on (poo stuck to butt fur), but it’s so inconsequential when compared to the unconditional love she gives.
MY. WORLD., People.
This post is in honor of her approaching 16th birthday. Happy Birthday Checkers, from the interwebs!(Yup, she gets gifts and special treats on her birthday just like I do. Mine is coming before hers. Feel free to send gifts to both of us. My email address in on my About page. She wants a big cat tree. I want a tropical vacation.)
On with the cat-ass-trophe… But, wait! There’s more…
When he wasn’t snuggling in one of our laps, he enlisted great effort in protecting us from the crows flying over the canyon. Buddy, who looks larger in this picture than he is in real life, is considerably smaller than the crows he was chasing.
When a very large, and very lost, German Sheppard/Husky/Wolf mutt somehow made its way into the fenced yard, little Buddy charged it with a ferocity disproportionate to his small size. I was worried Buddy was a goner, and about to become wolf-mutt’s lunch. Not so. It was hilarious to see this small dog chase the large, timid intruder around, tail between his large legs, until we could open a gate for him to get out.
“My name is Kernut, and it’s been three hours since my last meditation.”
(ahahaha I crack me up!)
This weekend I spent at a wonderful – and much needed – meditation retreat in the luscious, green Los Gatos mountains. The views were spectacular, the location peaceful. Greg facilitated the meditation retreat and Patty was the gracious hostess of her mountain-top retreat center.
So, I need to meditate. Daily. It keeps the crazy away. Now I’m just bonkers. That’s not as bad as crazy.But, wait! There’s more…