Why we Only Have One Cat

So, we have always had two cats. Since we were married.

However, right now we have Tink. She looks cute. Looks can be deceiving. She used to beat the stuffing out of our two male cats. When they died (Cocoa - probably eaten by a coyote, Kiel - diabetes) we decided to let her be the only cat.

She is the kind of cat who bites you when she is done being petted. Without warning. She is the kind of cat who will claw you as you are innocently passing by where she is laying. And who will jump on your feet and bite them (hard) in the middle of the night. Nothing is more fun to be awakened by ten needle sharp claws being inserted into one's foot.

I would love to have a kitten. Another cat. A cat who liked to be picked up and petted. Who got along with BOTH dogs. Who didn't bite for no reason. (When taken to the vet after a few episodes of her peeing right in front of me - and on me - the vet checked her all out and said, "Well, she's a torti."

She has a load of personality. She is a lot of fun, when she isn't being a witch. But she loves being an only cat, and I just can't see bringing some poor little kitten in to be tormented.

Sigh.

Why I Don't Watch Horse Racing Any More

It all started with Ruffian.

Most of you don't remember her - or maybe you do. She was a filly whose love of the race was so strong she raced her front legs to mush. She was a horse with a heart, and the only non-human on Sports Illustrated 100 female athletes of the century. When she died, it was tragic.

Then came Barbero.

If ever there was an animal with a fighting spirit, it was him. After suffering horrific injuries during a race, his owners poured money and time into keeping this racehorse alive. The vets didn't give him much of a chance, but against all expectations it looked as if he was going to survive.
Unfortunately, as we all know, he didn't.

Now Eight Belles.

So badly injured, she had to be euthanized on the track. Tragic.

Then I read that the 1986 Derby winner was almost certainly slaughtered and shipped to France or Belgium to be eaten. As are many race horses. Even former winners. After they don't win any more, they are as disposable as any greyhound - just bigger.

So, even though I thrilled to the story of Man O'War, Secretariat, our own Seattle Slew, and many others, I am finished with the sport until things change.

Sickening.

Hot Hot HOT

It hit 99 degrees today where I work.

It was fabulous.

I love the heat. I am one of those people who lives here in the Northwest, but loves it hot. It wasn't humid - or at least it didn't feel humid - so it was perfect for me.

When the humidity is higher, 90 is about my maximum comfort level.

This was perfect - it had just enough of a solid baking feel when you got into the sun that it warmed up the bones, and the muscles. For me, it makes me feel nice and loose and relaxed.
Most people around here don't like it this hot. TS is one - he becomes very grumpy. A/C helps him stay alive, but his grump level goes up.

Everyone kept coming inside and telling me how lucky I was to be in the air conditioned building, and I kept saying - "But I love it out there".

I love summer.

Missing Magic

Yesterday, I saw a Monarch butterfly for the first time this summer.

And I thought, "It's been almost three months since Magic died." It seems like it was longer.

I still miss him. Oh, it's not so sharp or so immediate that I cry every time I think about him. I remember more of the funny things he did.

I'm not beating myself over signs I should have noticed, or the issues surrounding the eating of socks. Because it was an accident. We never let him play with socks. We didn't leave socks laying around. He stole the socks from places we didn't realize he could get to, until it was too late. Okay, maybe I'm still beating myself just a little bit.

Sometimes I think I will hear the little sigh he used to make when he put his head down on my foot. When the alarm goes off and I'm half asleep, sometimes I still expect to feel the bed bounce as he jumps up to make sure we are absolutely, positively awake and getting up.

I think the hardest part is that he was just a baby. Old dogs, well, in our house old dogs have led a good life. All old pets, for that matter. They get fed well. They have toys. They are warm in the winter, and have cool places to go in the summer. They are de-flead, brushed, and taken to the vet. They get lots and lots of pets, and hugs, and treats. Toys are tossed.
Some of them are rescued from certain death. They have good lives. When they get old and sick, no matter how hard it is, we let them go. We don't want them to suffer. They have been as happy as dogs who aren't allowed to roll in dead things, and cats who aren't allowed to kill every little thing can be.

Magic was just a baby. He won't ever get to go swimming in a lake in the summer. For him the world outside was mostly a rainy, cold place. Not that he minded - he was a happy dog. The world was just waking up when he left it.

I think he would have liked butterflies.

Summer Sickness

Once again I have come down with some kind of summer crud.

It's not turning into a cold, as yet. It just kind of hangs around, giving me cold chills with no fever, a horrible sinus headache with no corresponding drippy nose. Even though I feel horrible, I couldn't say exactly how. Kind of achy, but not really. Scratchy throat, but only if I talk for very long.

It makes me feel bad enough I didn't go to work for two days, and instead slept for most of them. Under 6 layers of blankets because of the chills.

I am finally feeling a little better this afternoon, so I am washing the sheets, and doing a few chores around the house, taking rests in between when I start to feel bad. I wonder if it's allergies. It doesn't really matter - I feel horrible, and the thought of being nice and chirpy to the public makes me cringe. So, probably a good idea I stayed home.

I always feel guilty, though. I hate leaving my co-workers in the lurch, and my boss scrambling to find someone to come in and cover for me. Hopefully since school is almost out it will be very, very quiet this week and next week.

I suppose I will go make some hot tea. And hope that the sheets are nearly dry; I think it's time for a nap.