There’s something about cat pictures. And videos. Everybody loves ’em. How can you not?
If there was every any doubt about who is in charge in this house, Mr. Ferguson’s arrival at the breakfast table resolves the matter.
I am sure this is hopelessly insanitary. But he is just too damn cute to throw off the table more than once every five minutes.
Just so you know we tried, he does have his own saucer of milk on the floor. He just prefers our breakfast.
I have this habit of disappearing without warning. It’s one of my many deficiencies as a blogger.
Some days I walk around wondering, “Where did I put my head?”
My photography skills leave something to be desired. The new Canon has a miraculous zoom lens, but my hands are unsteady. This egret is quite a distance off, and I can’t for the life of me capture all of her in one frame. So I try to salvage pictures using iPhoto. Powerful hardware and software should not be left unattended. Or, as a wise manager told me long ago, “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”
I nearly had her, that time! My goal is to write short and sweet. But often I’ll go on and on, trying to capture an argument that’s as elusive as an egret at 100 yards.
I need to learn to be satisfied with an incomplete picture. Incomplete and fuzzy writing. That’s my style, more often than not.
I frequently veer off topic on a whim. That’s a blogging no-no. Which reminds me, have I posted a photo of Princess Lola recently?
Once I get into the zone, I could blog all night. It’s not as if I have a shortage of ideas. Definitely no shortage of cute and regal cat pictures. (When I really get going, I throw in random adjectives and adverbs, not to mention parenthetical references.)
I have a compulsion to cover the subject in depth and variety. Cats come in so many interesting shapes and sizes. They’re so cute when they’re sleeping. I’m not above stating the obvious.
Lastly, I frequently write about taboo subjects. Not religion; I’m talking politics. Boring.
Now that I’ve retired from gainful employment, I’ll have more time for blogging! I’m trying to decide on a course of action. Should I start a new blog? I’m searching for the perfect niche. Preferably one that will draw a wide audience resulting in astounding statistics and minor income from the WordAds program.
While I’m awaiting inspiration, I’ll probably write about retirement. And that’s all I have to say tonight.
— John Hayden
I really need to brush Lola more often. And use the flea comb! Next time, I’m getting a short-haired cat that doesn’t shed.
Took Princes Lola in for her long overdue rabies shot yesterday. A fox has been sighted in our neighborhood, which reminded me about rabies. Lola cried all the way to the vet’s in the car, but was quite content once she knew we were homeward bound. I think she actually enjoyed the attention.
See, this type of exercise can be hazardous to your health. BTW, my cat pushes things off the table on purpose.
I hear that you can get rich quick by simply posting photos of cats on your blog. With that in mind, please welcome Lola, the nocturnal wonder-cat. Can you believe those long, white whiskers?
It can be frustrating, trying to get a good photo of a black cat or dog, and Lola doesn’t help. I think she is a little bit camera shy. Lola is black as ink, with four white paws and a white belly, and green eyes. With the help of iPhoto, these photos have been digitally enhanced so you can actually see her against that blue dog blanket. (She doesn’t know I got the blanket for a dog, so please don’t tell her.)
What Lola does best is sleep. She is a world-class sleeper, and I’m not talking catnaps. She’s practicing to be a consultant on sleep disorders. Lola gets up in the morning when I do. After eating breakfast, she curls up and goes right to sleep, and snoozes through most of the day. Late at night (or more likely, early morning), when I’m trying to fall asleep, Lola is prowling around in the dark. My apartment is small, but she never tires of exploring. There are even small spaces here that she hasn’t gotten around to trying out. Small spaces are one of Lola’s favorite things.
Sleeping, eating, and small spaces. That about exhausts the list of Lola’s interests. If she has a hobby, it’s going out on the screened porch to listen to the birds, or swat at the moths. I really have to get her on an exercise program. She’s age four, in the prime of life, and if I can persuade her to shed a few pounds, she will easily live another 10 years, or more. Right this moment, Lola is perched precariously but serenely on a narrow window sill, listening to the summer rain. It’s kinda hard to tell if she’s awake or asleep.
One more thing about Lola. She is a talker, with a vocabulary for all occasions. Lola has a word for “Hey, you!” and others for greeting, contentment, surprise, curiosity. Lola’s favorite subject is food. I believe she can say “Feed me,” in five languages, including French and Chinese.
After an hour or so of late-night exploring, Lola settles down at the foot of my bed. (Lola sleeps wherever she wants. During the day, my favorite chair. At night, on the bed. Only thing I ask is that she avoid walking across my stomach more than twice a night.) Lola sleeps sporadically, at night. Mostly, she lies awake, with her head up, meditating on the middle distance. Either that, or she’s working complicated mathematics problems in her head.
Some weeks are better than others, and the week just ending was one of the good ones.
I finally traded in my antique cell phone for a modern phone that takes pictures. (No, I have not advanced to an iPhone. The entry price and the monthly charges are not in my austerity budget. Besides, I’m not ready for a phone that’s smarter than I am.) The old phone goes to the Smithsonian.
Much more importantly this week, I rescued a cat! Doesn’t that sound noble? Or maybe the cat rescued me? To be truthful, the actual rescue was accomplished by a neighbor. I was merely the beneficiary of serendipity.
I’d been wanting to add a dog or cat to my small household, but was too lazy or too indecisive to get around to it. I’d postponed it to the fall, after the busy season at this seaside resort, where I rent low-cost year-round housing. Long story short, had I gone to the animal shelter, I would have found dozens of worthy cats, and been wracked by indecision and guilt. Also, the shelters charge a fee to cover vet expenses. My neighbor is much more generous. My homeless cat was delivered free, with a starter kit of food and cat litter. (And as they say in this rural area where felines are plentiful and popular: “Who BUYS a cat??”)
There were two sister cats, four years old. The goal was to keep them together, but how many people are looking to adopt TWO extra cats. So Lola, the quiet, timid one, came to live with me. We are getting along famously.
Where’s the picture? As you may know, black cats and black dogs are difficult to photograph. And as you may have suspected, I haven’t quite mastered the cell-phone camera.
You’ll have to take my word for it that Lola is the kind of black cat with green eyes that usually gets named “Midnight.” Good thing the previous owner had already selected “Lola.” She is pretty and sweet, though slightly overweight. She’s all black, except for long, white whiskers, a white patch on her throat, and one white foot.
This post is what TV and radio news people call a “teaser.” If you come back tomorrow, or the next day, you might find a picture of lovely Lola. — John Hayden
Living Simply And Still On The Grid 