Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Truth About Cats And Dogs

One of the biggest differences between dogs and cats occurred to me as I was on a lovely Saturday drive with Rick recently. We had decided to take advantage of the sunshine and go for a ride "out to the country," as I like to say, to pick up some fresh fruits and vegetables along with some fresh air. As we drove, every so often we would encounter a Dog Head sticking out of a car or truck window, its ears flapping in the wind, muzzle flaps rippling, slobber flying, a look of unmitigated joy on its face.

Dogs love to ride in cars! THEY LOVE IT! You know darn well that all that Dog Owner had to say was, "Hey, Beasley! Wanna go for a ride? In the car? Huh? Huh?" And Beasley just went batshit, jumping up and down and wiggling like a gummy worm with anticipation. It's entirely possible that all Dog Owner had to say was, "Do you wan--...?" and Beasley was already losing it.

Sam's Golden Retriever, Chance, who lived with us here briefly (before he ate a door) is a maniac for car rides. He weighs approximately eleventy hundred pounds and especially loves to go through drive-thrus. The problem is, he is too chatty. Sam can't communicate effectively with bank tellers or fast-food employees because Chance is too busy barking at them through the window or the sunroof. As a result, he doesn't go on many errands anymore. Dogs. They are nuts for car rides.

Cats...not so much. Piper and Marlowe had to go to The Vet (cue ponderous dramatic music) last week for their shots. Let's just say that I didn't even mention a car. Even pulling out The Leash gets them uneasy. Marlowe hunches over and becomes a Cat Statue. And once they are IN the car, it's a constant litany of meows and reassurance. Piper likes to be a neck pillow and Marlowe likes to wander and register her concern and disapproval the entire way there. If I can get them to lie together, they settle somewhat, but every traffic light or turn is an affront. Oh, you say, get a Cat Carrier. Ha ha. It is to laugh.

TravisCat and EmilyCat, the Kittens' predecessors, were not This Way. Travis did not like the car, that is true. But he just gave in to the necessity by turning over his Man Card. He lay on the seat, jammed his head in the space between it and the door, and gave out a loud meow every now and then. I would say kind, reassuring affirmations like, "I know, Travis. We treat you shamefully." Or, "You have every right to be upset, you poor thing." And he'd wail on, one every 10 seconds or so. They'd be less frequent on the way home. We'd pull in the drive, I'd open his car door, and he'd get out, walk himself to the back door, and go in and collapse into a ten-hour nap.

Emily was completely different. She loved the car, most especially Rick's pickup truck. In that vehicle, she sat on his lap, front legs splayed upon the wheel, and stared out the windshield. She was Jared's cat, and when he got his driver's license, he would take her for a ride on her birthday. He'd take her to the McDonald's drive-thru and let her have a french-fry for her treat. Sometimes, he'd take her on a ride if he were taking a friend home. But she was not a fan of having the windows open.

As a personality, I embody traits both canine and feline: I love a car ride, but like Emily, I need the windows up. I can curl up in a nice, warm spot for hours, almost inert, but never napping. I am very loyal and love a routine, but I can be aloof if I am not entirely comfortable. And I will admit to being slobbery, but only when I'm asleep. Currently, my shots are up to date, but I am shedding a little; I'm low-maintenance and require no walking, unless you count shoe-shopping. And that I can do by myself.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

teaparty Prodigy Of The Week: FYI


There is so much Crazy going on here that I can't knot my neurons around it. At this point we can just overlook the implication being made via punctuation that Obama is not Our President's real name--apparently Barack is using an alias for this White House gig--and instead puzzle over this peacenik's intent behind stringing together these Helpful Facts for Our Edification.

Is he sort of a Rampant Anglophile who just likes to point out British stuff? Is he part of a Scavenger Hunt? (Go thirty-five paces north and proceed until you see Random Fact Sign Carrier. Write down what his sign says.) Is he sloshed on Mad Dog 20/20, stumbled upon what he thought was a party (not a Party), and someone was wrongheaded enough to give him a marker and some posterboard?

Wow. Look away. Just...look away.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

In Which I Fail To Remember The Name Of The Establishment Altogether...

Dragging myself out of my Exhaustion/Frustration Coma long enough to post this bit of Car Dialog. It is indicative of my Addled Mental State. Summer Brain is one thing; my Brain On Stress is quite another.

Scene opens on Rick and Nance in car. They are stopped at the corner at a red light. The restaurant there is a Friendly's, a family chain restaurant specializing in soda fountain treats. The large sign on the lawn has the removable letters.

Nance: (reading aloud, pronouncing as words) Omized eam akes. That's all I can see from here.
Rick: (doing likewise) I can only see-- Ized am es.
Nance: What do you think it says?
Rick: I'm going to lay bets on "Customized Ice Cream Cakes."
Nance: Oh. Hmm. Wow. Really?
Rick: Why? What were you going for?
Nance: Um, I was going for "Sodomized Team Cakes."
Rick: Ahem. Well. You're gonna lose.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

After 28 Years, I Am A Freshman Again, And Let Me Tell You, It Sucks Even Worse

Oh, dearest Ones. Who knows when I shall ever again be able to coherently form delightful phrases, erudite sentences, or coherent magnificences?

Not Anytime Soon.

Opening a huge new school is...well...fraught with Many Difficulties. And stressful. And without, apparently, printers. Among other things. Sigh.

While we all now struggle to teach via 19th century methods in a 21st century building, I need to conserve my energy and resources, so this space will be in stasis for the time being. Please check back--perhaps over the weekend.

And send patience.
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