When I Was Younger

Momma & Papa Duck
Mama & Papa Duck

When I was younger…so much younger than today…I never needed any help in any way…but now my world has changed….I am not so self-assured…(The Beatles).. I am like an alien without a country of my ownso please, please help me

It started out a muggy day, heavy with grey clouds, no breeze, ominous rumbles of thunder but…in the distance.  Papa Duck was out and about…God knows where. Somehow, it seemed like a good day to head inland, so I left my little ducks, Quack, Quack Quack and Bubbles (you heard that one before?) playing in the shallow end of the lake, safe from the big waves being created by the turbulent gusts of winds. 

As I got further and further from the shoreline, it occurred to me that the winds were picking up. No worries, I waddle close to the ground.  The wind will whistle over me if I keep my neck tucked under…as it always did in the past….you with me so far?

Scary stuff... From Morguefile.com Mikelghtning1.JPG By calgrin
Scary stuff…
From Morguefile.com
Mikelghtning1.JPG By calgrin

But who knew, a freak of nature, thunder, lightning, torrential rains, hurricane volume winds would come crashing around me and all other living, breathing beings, whether Two Footed, Four Footed, or gigantic old trees. It didn’t stop there…roofs lifted off homes, sheds were picked up, like feathers in the wind, cars were overturned…and like Dorothy and Toto, in The Wizard of Oz, I was swept up, up and away, it seemed like miles away, another county, landing in a farmers corn field, where the stalks were pounded flat in to ground as if war tanks had passed through.

OMG, where was my bucolic little lake and my baby ducks….Quack, Quack Quack and Bubbles …because family is everything to a duck. The good news was, even if my heart was racing, my wings were still intact. I could get home again…couldn’t I?  Now would be a most excellent time to have once of those Two Footed GPS Trackers, wouldn’t it?

With just a little wispy cloud..
With just a little wispy cloud..

The thunder, its lightning bolts and rain came to an abrupt end.  In rapid succession, clouds made way to blue sky. I could hear all the unsettled birds and ducks fearfully calling out location calls to try to get their loved ones home again, home again jiggety, jug, jig! I considered myself far superior and adept at trail blazing…if they would all just cease and desist their incessant noise so I could hear my own little family, surely overwhelmed and crying….because it is a well established by PETA that we too feel joy and pain just like your family pet.

North, South, East, West…which way to go.  I stood still.. observed…I saw crows going in all directions, a robin on an upended tree branch, mournfully chirping for her chicks and now non-existent nest. In the sky, I spied some geese in a practised formation heading west…surely they were fresh water bound…possibly my lake…my little ducklings.  With a great heave upwards, I was soaring, dipping and swerving, my eyes trained on the geese as they flew over fields, and forests, a farm or two, a clearing.  My wings tired but my need to succeed obliterated the pain and fatigue.

All of a sudden… I saw a gleaming in the distance, a mirage in the desert…was it my lake or a cruel hallucination?  Closer and closer and YES, it was my lake…..now where were my little ducklings.  Around and around our little dock, I went, peering in between the slats, now some missing.  No duckies.  I went on land, looked under the only fir-tree left standing…no babies there…I slipped back in to the water, ducked my head to catch a minnow.

Quack, Quack Quack & Bubbles Fr:Morguefile By: Toseesomething majestic
Quack, Quack Quack & Bubbles Fr:Morguefile By: Toseesomething majestic

As I raised my neck, I was sure I heard faint little quacks, over there, behind the rocks, peeking out at me … My Quack, Quack Quack and Bubbles, their brave chorus rising, the closer I got to them.

My ducklings are safe…we’re together again…God is Good…still, I’m thinking,  a duck’s life is not all its quacked up to be….

Those Who Mean Just What They Say

It is like this.  Just like international blue chip companies world-wide, we, the Four Footed have regular Quarterly and Annual Meetings, to keep the Shareholders (the Two Footed who pay for our room and board and vet bills, of course) up to date.

Do I not look like a CEO?
Do I not look like a CEO?

No, we don’t head down south to some lofty ***** accommodation with ocean view suites, a spa, a concierge and butler service… Momma’s bed does just fine…well, accept for Bad Boy Andy who is allowed in the room and to vote, but must remain on the floor because well,  is a bad boy, that can turn on a dime, sunny one minute, trouble the next…accept with Momma to whom he is always a courtly Southern Gentleman…but to us, a Black and White Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Since I am Senorita Jakita of Jakitaville (actually, the Mayor and CEO but keep it a secret, okay), I convene the meeting…of complaints, mostly.  On the bed with me is Diva Calico Gen Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte and Ruby, the Incredibly Wide Eyed Monkey with her two babies Tigger and Babby.

Here I am, getting the rays on the porch veranda, still an Outside Only Cat. At this point, I was friendly. Momma was allowed to pat me, brush me but I would not enter the home of the Two Footed, Of course Momma, crafty as me, seduced me with food and water. She kept moving the food dish closer to the door, then in the door and the borders gradually evaporated. As long as I could make my escape back outside in the twinkling of an eye, I was and am a Happy Camper - does that make me an Indoor/Outdoor Cat now?
Really, trust me, I am a Happy Camper.

Clem KaDiddleHopper has no voting rights because….well, he is an alien.  He has no birthright, no citizenship in Jakitaville.  He might be considered… if he got his Green Card but no, he comes and goes, pledging no allegiance to the Four Footed or the Two Footed.  To be a Member In Good Standing, one must be: Happy campers on our side…Fearless campers who’d jump and die…Campers who mean just what they say…Bravest campers all the way. (Paraphrase The Green Beret)

Ruby, the Incredibly Wide Eyed Monkey  asked and has been given permission to bring my Pink Fluffy Bunny. I put forward the motion, and after some discussion, Diva Calico Gen seconded it, then a vote was held wherein Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte and Bad Boy Andy said ‘Aye’  in agreement.

Pink Fluffy Bunny
Pink Fluffy Bunny

I mean, it was only a formality…because Pink Fluffy Bunny was already at  the present. Please note, for the record our formal names are used and appear in all notes taken accordingly.  As you know, I am a stickler for detail and proper policy and procedure.

Once again, as at meetings in the past, most of the complaints (surprise, surprise) were about Momma.  Sometimes (maybe a lot of the times, all the time), she does not get it.  If God gave her two hands, it was for the express purpose of patting and cuddling her pets.  It seems she gets so distracted with her iPhone in one hand and her tablet in the other that she has no hands left to give a good rub down, scratching and loving on demand. What a waste of God Given Extremities! 

Andy DaydreamsSuddenly the discussion gets a little personal as I chastise Bad Boy Andy for jumping on Momma’s lap, absolutely sucking all the oxygen out of the room, when I am wedged beside her in the reclining chair in the living room.  Bad Boy Andy, never remorseful gives me that ‘deal with it’ look while Diva Calico Gem chimes in that I, Jakita, expect Momma’s attention on demand, if and whenever, twenty-four seven…..that her soft purr is drowned by my whining and whingeing unless Momma devotes my two hands to message and caress her…why I never…saw that coming…Gen and I are BFF…when it suits her, I guess.

Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte chimes in to say… talking about manners and lack thereof …Gen won’t even allow her to jump up on the couch on the living room to get close to Momma in the daytime, even though Charlie gives Gen full clearance to be on Momma’s bed any day, any time. Ruby the Wide Eyed Monkey and her family looked on. An intervention was called for or this meeting would, like in the boardroom at so many blue chip conglomerates, disintegrate in a sniping, finger-pointing fracas.   Maybe, says the All Wise Been There Done That Ruby, the Wide Eyed Monkey  offered maybe…just maybe,  it is not Momma but all of you who have some work to do on behaviour modification. 

Ruby, Tigger and Babby..chewed a bit, loved a lot...
Ruby, Tigger and Babby..chewed a bit, loved a lot…

Looks of recognition and consternation flashed across the faces of the Four Footed Board Members. Heads bowed in shame….silence deafened the room until Ruby quietly started to sing:  Not my brother, nor my sister but it’s me O Lord…standing in the need of prayer…

Time for a Mega Watergate CoverupUh, let’s not put that in the notes says Senorita Jakita of Jakitaville, I second the motion says Bad Boy Andy, all in favour say ‘Aye’….a resounding Aye is heard.

Senorita Jakita hammers the gavel…Meeting adjourned….and let that be a lesson to you.

It’s All About that Bass

It’s All About that Bass…No Treble …It’s All About that Bass…No Treble

Like…there are some words no one likes…not the Two Footed…not the Four Footed and most certainly, not the Ultimate Earth Dog.

Jakita - the things I would do for a treatOh, I know lots of words…even if you string them together, you can’t fool me…like Go for a walkyou’re such a pretty puppy….leave that cat alone besides the Come, Stop, Stay, Dance…but the word I dread, that humiliates me, that sounds judgemental and harsh to my Pedigree Puppy Mill blue blood ears is F.A.T!

I am not F.A.T.  I admit, square-built with a double coat of super fluffy, kinky fur that may make me look well…stout…but I am not…so no carb reduced starve till you disappear diet for me, no thanks…got it?

It starts at the Vet…as usual.  Oh, they may be nice but they are a conniving syndicate.  I sometimes wonder if they work hand in hand with the breeders, setting impossibly low weights for the different breeds just so they can give owners a guilt trip to buy their expensive calorie reduced canine food to keep your dog at that ideal (says who) weight.  Ka Ching. Ka Ching. Oh, Joy!  More profit!

New Do Rag for exemplary behavior at the Vet.
Me at the Vet.

Apparently, according to the Breeders standards, a Havanese is only to weigh between 10 to 16.5 pounds.  What??? I barely eat and am, like a gorgeous 20 pounds of muscle, sinew, bones and fur (of course)…honestly.

Like Momma is an understanding soul.  She told me, ‘Don’t listen to that man.  Ever notice his paunch? Next time, he brings up the subject, I will suggest, if the Vet likes calorie reduced food so much, he should give it a whirl.  If it works for him…maybe, just maybe… we’ll feed it to you.’

After the nightly chase, Jakita rests on the pillow and Gen snuggles next to her.
You be the judge…am I F.A.T???

I mean, we have to educate these people who believe F.A.T is the enemy.  In some cultures being F.A.T. is a sign of a good life and wealth that you work long and hard to achieve. I ♥ that culture! Can we move there, Momma?

Anyway, I am not F.A.T… I’m just big-boned… and I’m not going to take it anymore because:

You know I won’t be no stick silicone Barbie Doll…So if that’s what you’re into…then go head and move it on… (Meaghan Trainor).