I’m waiting for you… To make the first move… I’m biding my time… Just waiting it through…
I’m playing the game… That we play so well… I’ve played it before… So have you, I can tell.
You’re gorgeous as ever… Not effected by me… Stars in the night-light… We ♥ being free…
We relate to each other… As narcissists do… Must score every win… To our own self be true…
So hang on to your hat…You’re in for a ride… Neither like losing… Taking bets on both sides….
I, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte (Charlie) was born a Worrier…not a Warrior…and that is where my trouble began…because if you are a little feral calico kitten…born out in the wilds…or in an industrial landscape, where you dodge tractor trailers and beeping lift trucks to survive, (as in my case), it is much more practical to have been born a Warrior.
But me…not so much. My talent lies in skulking…knowing what is going on when, where, how, without the outside world even knowing they are under surveillance…like a silent ninja, observing, yet never engaging their target. The unsympathetic may categorize me as a stalker but that is a short sell because…I am also obsessive…especially once I decide you are on my team.
Take Cat Mandu, who bewitched me, by taking me under her motherly wing, then isolating me from the rest of the household, somehow feeding my paranoia about the world in which we lived, encouraging my fear of going outside…meanwhile, Cat Mandu depended on me to alert Momma every time she didn’t return from her nightly stroll on time. True story…Worrier that I was, only time I would come upstairs and meow at Momma was when Cat Mandu needed to be let back in. Otherwise I was the Phantom of the Opera Basement Cat.
Things didn’t work out so well for Little Cat Mandu…the Pink Cloud to Paradise ferried her to Heaven and I had to regroup…I needed a replacement on my team…Momma always fed me, talked in a soft voice to me, combed me…when I let her…she’d do. And she did…do. I even got in to both her and wonderful Wonder Boy grooming me…I started to relax and be the kitty cat God made me to be. Now I had two Two Footed and myself to worry about and keep in my good graces.
I tell you, I don’t know when this happened…To me Diva Calico Gen (not a fighter but Street Smart) and Bad Boy Andy were Warriors…no need to worry about them…but our sweet Puppy Dog Senorita Jakita who is always gentle with me…she didn’t realize it but somewhere along the way, she melted my reserve and I started caring about her well-being, worrying if she was not fed on time or left a minute too long in the back yard…in the dark….
So I run back and forth to alert Momma….get with it…already (sometimes Momma’s lights are on…but she’s not home). Lucky for me (and Jakita), Momma is quick on catching the rebounds I send her.
Some pass through this world without even knowing their purpose but not me….Worrying is what I do best….and when you’re on my team, NO WORRIES… I got you covered!
We all know all the world’s a stage and our bit parts are not to be taken seriously folks so best to keep your sense of humour forefront or you might be blindsided and bitter ….and that will get you nothing but the curse of high blood pressure and ulcers.
So it came to pass one Sunday morning, maybe late September, Momma was walking me and right at our intersection there were city vehicles parked haphazardly, up and down the street, blue lights rotating, walkie talkies blaring…it seemed we had sprung a water leak and Sunday was optimum time to fix it….the diligent contractors would get triple time for Emergency Weekend Work…but heck, the council could raise the taxes to cover costs…so it is all good. Even as night fell, daylight turned in to dark, more vehicles came, crowding every side street, bright lights, illuminating the interior of every home for blocks, we suspect.
Now two months later, winter on the way, in the dead of night, a letter is slipped in to every mailbox announcing the water would be turned off at 2am that very night for 12 hours to make routine maintenance…so tell me, in what world do city folk live….
Wouldn’t spring, summer, or even early fall be a better time to do routine maintenance…like when the ground it not frozen….just asking….
Momma pulled an RIP Daddy and called City Hall…were they really going to do it tonight…with the 1st snowstorm moving in to dump 15 to 20 cm of snow? The chirpy administrator said, oh yes, …if there is a change we’ll let you know….Momma’s thinking about Maintenance vehicles all over the street, side-walk and road snow ploughs trying to move through…chaos, it’s called, chaos.
Being highly organized and practical, Momma went in to 1st gear, (does she have any other), filling buckets with water, pots and pans with water, my little white grooming tub to the brim with water, jugs with water, even the kettles got filled with water…having watched some Walking Dead, she was prepared for Armageddon…one that never came, I must report, because although no notification of cancellation to the routine maintenance came, the snow storm showed up….like, did City Planners not have the Weathernet App? And so all the water, captured in vain, wasted actually, went down the drains, probably overloading an already compromised system, oh and remember….conserve, conserve, conserve water in a world where so many live without it.
As life spun out other challenges, the routine water maintenance was pushed to the back of Momma’s mind…but then front and centre, a couple of weeks later at 2am on a Sunday night, the crews moved back in. Momma woke to the sounds of heavy-duty vehicles, like army tanks, out front, breaking the nightly silence with their insistent running, chatter, the bright white lights bathing her home like the Yankee Stadium…..but no notification???? Well, they had snuck a note in the mailbox sometime Sunday but who checks their mailboxes when there is no delivery that day…so you guessed it…no water harvested….
Somehow, we made it through, hallujah…. somehow the City completed their work within 11.5 hours…so it was all good….I know, I know, so first World Problem…because well… we are such snowflakes, piling high and melting at the first hint of heat. Yes, those Third World Problem Solvers are pointing a finger, busting a gut laughing at us as they struggle with thirst, hunger, homelessness and war zones…so it is our little Secret… (our dirty laundry???), we got to keep our Pride in tact…especially when the Two Footed can’t shower, make coffee, wash dishes or horror of horror….or even flush their toilets for 12 hours….Truth be told even the Four Footed of the First World are snowflakes that melt at the hint that their life is disrupted…by anything…
May God Have Mercy on Snowflakes.
Think of me…When the clouds hang low…Threatening to place….Your Life on hold.
Think of me…When you feel the rain…Or hear the whistle…Of a lonesome train.
Think of me…When winter brings snow…Blanketing the earth…Keeping secrets close.
Think of me…When you hear the wind…My spirit’s soaring…I am with you still.
Think of me…When the sun is high…Nurturing your future…Helping you to fly.
Think of me…When you see a star…Twinkling and shining…Calling, from afar.
Think of me…I’m up above…Guiding your footsteps…Sharing in God’s love.
Think of me…
So as we are walking along, my Momma and I, we see them…all kinds…taking up space, in an already crowded world…but then again…who am I to say, you ask? Let me tell you more…about…. The Birds and the Bees and the Flowers and the Trees…and Momma.
More often than not my Momma in In-Her-Own-World, possibly thinking outrageous things like…who decided blue was blue…the sky…a scientist…a farmer…who knows what goes on in her distracted mind???
As we meander up, down and sideways (sometimes), my 360 degree head tilt is firmly in place. With my exaggerated ability to smell and hear at extremely long distances, I spy well dressed Jim-Morrison-Would-Be bearing down on us, with a pent up amount of tall tales to tell…if only we have the time to stop and listen…seems we don’t…
Momma’s polite, yet stiff upper lip response to Jim-Morrison-Would-Be’s overtures are as noticeable as if she took out a Billboard over there on the 401 where trapped motorists read them just to pass the time as they wile away in the Stop-and-Go Traffic…(mostly stopped).
Then I see Rocket Man approaching on his Scooter, with his non-descript scruffy looking grey brindle terrier that I call Groucho because he has a very poor attitude even for a male dog….but I like the Rocket Man who aces at scratching my ears and apparently Momma doesn’t mind him either, because she actually manages a rather limited, maybe three or four sentence conversation with him.
As we head on up the street, I see the Silent-One hit the sidewalk with his big old mixed retriever who plods along as if he is only going out for this walk just to please his Master…they both appear frightened of me and Momma because every time they sees us coming, they automatically the street. Momma tried nodding at the Silent One…who is not only silent but it seems even a social nod is beyond his ability…not sure what is going on with that, but the people he live with will greet Momma so…guess the Silent One has taken a Vow of well…Silence.
But the most dangerous Two Footed we might meet are Bikers on the sidewalk, silently approaching full tilt, as if racing in the Cycling Team Pursuit in the Olympics for the Gold Medal….You are lucky …most fortunate indeed, if they are approaching you…not coming up behind you, expecting you to jump off the sidewalk at the same speed that they are cycling.
Case and point, a couple of days past, two students on bikes were approaching…the first bike rider (a teenage girlie, no less), barreled straight for us. Even though we had flattened ourselves like Sylvester as in games with Tweety Bird, to the side, we had to jump off the little space we occupied on the sidewalk, to someone’s lawn. The second rider, a young male, obviously embarrassed, realizing why some bikers get bad raps, slowed his speed and thanked us for moving over. Some Momma’s do a fine job of teaching their children manners…in this case, good manners..
From where I stand (on my lofty Know-It-All-Ladder-of-Life), seems Momma relishes the days we go walking wherein it is only us and Nature, wandering around a world devoid of the living, breathing, aggravating Two and Four Footed…where, if you listen closely you can hear trees whisper, see flowers dance, listen as rocks scream out, ‘Look at me’…..making you One with the Universe…focused, inspired, rejuvenated …at peace within the core …forever more.
I feel ya, Moma, I feel ya….more of that…less of them .. works for me!
You remember me…the Store Bought Kitty that the Pretty Woman gifted me with my Forever and Ever Home….As well as being pretty (I hate to brag, but like me, she is gorgeous), she has indulged my every whim and wish, from soft and crunchy food, treats, little round balls with jingle bells inside, cap nip,….you name what any cat desires and it is mine…all mine.
Just to put it out there, one thing I am not so crazy about are those trips to the Vet….though the Pretty Woman says it is all good for my long-term survival rate (what’s that, again?)…still there are all those other pets that come and go, bark, whine, slobber and hiss…It rattles me, even if I am snug in my little carrier where no one can touch me…so says my educated, yet sensitive Pretty Woman. With my overactive imagination I see and feel a clawed paw reaching in, pulling me through a little 1 inch by one inch wire mesh opening…But a girl has got to do, what a girl has to do, so I put up and shut up, drink the koolaid…so to speak.
Now the Pretty Woman reads a ton, investigates thoroughly and has decided, with her long work hours, it is in my best interests to have a companion. Somehow, she stumbled on to that Hotdogcoolcats Blog and it has her all stirred up…she has come to a decision after careful consideration… the Pretty Woman wants my input .. between you and me, how much weight it will hold, once her mind is made up, is questionable.
Yes, after much research, the Pretty Woman has decided I need a puppy dog companion, young enough that I can take the dominate role, at least until he or she have their wits about them….and sometimes that could be never. The Pretty Woman explained to me dogs are not as easy to train as cats so that first year can be full of unwelcome surprises….sounds high maintenance to me.
If we got another cat, unrelated and possibly untethered, he/she might be like the Forest Freak (I hate that story) or Hissing Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte (Charlie) who has a rocky relationship with Bad Boy Andy…then there is the Diva Calico Gen always paw ready to slap you in the snout….Puppy Jakita is so peaceful and loving in comparison…unless you jump on a table or counter, then she’ll tackle you the minute your paws touch the floor….or she will tattle on you if you are misbehaving…otherwise it is like living with Mother Theresa, such a kind and gentle soul she is.
Well, hold the phones…let’s not do anything rash…let me give this some thought…I suppose if we could find a Puppy Jakita….it’s just that…you know….just that….
Me and you and you and me…No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be…The only one for me is you, and you for me….So happy together. (The Turtles)….
So let me sleep on it, Baby, Baby…..
I never really change… I just keep pressing on… Flirting with you today… Till someone better comes along… I really mean no harm… I’m not a ♥break Kid… But I can’t seem to settle down… So I shop around instead….
I’m not a tree to root… I’m a sailboat on the run…With a change of the wind I’m off again… Till every race I’ve won… So you won’t tie me to tomorrow… I may or may not be here… It’s a pleasure to have known you…You’re forewarned – so beware…
For every ounce of me lives…My energy’s never ending… Get too close and you will be sucked in… But the flight’s well worth the descending….
Country folk…they like to laugh at you…not with you. Yet they weep with you when you are in pain, celebrate with you when your cup over floweth and live side by side with you as you achieve your right of passage through the Labyrinth of Life…well, mostly.
City folks are fine to be sure (LOL) and to be respected for all those tedious hours spent on the highways and byways of life…alone… as they fight the traffic to and fro their particular zoos, the Boss at work, the Big and Little Bosses at home and all of the complexities that accompany the Urban Jungle…Deep within, so many city hearts yearn for the Simple Life, where cows moo, roosters Cockle-Doodle-Doo and even Skunks don’t smell as rancid.
And so that is what led The-Boy-Next-Door back to his roots….to the idyllic days of running through hay fields, swimming in the bay, fishing in the creek…away from the big, bad city, even if it meant moving back to the town where his Matriarch Mama lived…no denying, she was full-tilt… she totally amused yet dismayed the Country folk who had to breathe the same air as her, shop at the same stores, attend the same church…you get it…got it...
Matriarch Mama was hard-core-right-wing-no-nonsense serious….so serious the country folk swore they had never seen her smile…in her life…even as a baby, a toddler, a child, a teenager, an adult, not even as a Senior. Sure her life was tough….her husband died young and she had two young sons to raise… but she had a nice home, enough money to send her sons to University in the city….could have been worse….a lot worse… said the poor folk who sometimes scrambled for food to eat.
What the country folk hadn’t realized was Reality (as we know it) and The-Boy-Next-Door parted way, many moons ago, along the Sandbanks of Time. When he’d left for the City he’d had been quiet, kind of shy, said the Country folk….he’ll come out of his shell once he’s away from his Matriarch Mama……Well….Maybe or Not so much.
However The-Boy-Next-Door’s education was impeccable and when he moved back to his roots, he was quickly hired as a Chartered Accountant for an international company that had recently moved to the area….much to the dismay of the country folk who believed Mama and Poppa Shops, where you knew the owner, their parents, their parents parents….chain of command and right of way….don’t trust these Conglomerates, said the country folk…they’ll break your heart when they pack up and leave (and holy smoke, some 30 years later they did just that).
So The-Boy-Next-Door had a plumb position…much responsibilty…his Matriarch Mama was rightfully proud and boringly braggy….but as Momma says, the Country folk play the long game….wait for the other shoe to drop…time will tell.
Other locals who were hired by the company saw it coming….saw the cookie crumble…but there were only family doctors in the district…who had trouble diagnosing even pneumonia…mental health issues were way down the list of expertise…
First The-Boy-Next-Door whispered to himself, then talked to himself, then shouted at himself….then went silent….. some days. like a two-way radio, all chatter…some days all silence…until one fine bright Monday morning, he went to work, greeting everyone he saw with a big smile and a Good Morning…almost normal like. ….but he didn’t head to his office and take a seat….no he went straight CEO’s Office and told him…get up and get out….this is my job now….You’re fired (so ahead of his time…so Donald Trump and The Apprentice).
No, there was no gun involved. No, the CEO didn’t leave…he called Security and The-Boy-Next-Door got a drive to the local hospital who arranged to have him sent to a City hospital who were better equipped to understand how a lifetime of stress and whatever is in your DNA can eat away at your brain, no matter how intelligent and middle class you may be.
The-Boy-Next-Door never came back to live in the country…some people are just better suited to an Urban Environment… Sometimes the Country folk say…they feel…maybe if they had stepped in more when he was a kid….too late now…you know….but if only….
No, never forget where you come from…..Nor ever forget you are as your meant to be... Sometimes, it’s hard to be yourself in a small town …. Where people remember every thing they see….
(Paraphrase Kenny Chesney, John Mellencamp)
Skating Moms…Look like a Wicked Witch and a Beauty Queen … on the same day…
Skating Moms…Can sew on a button and register a tape…While carrying on an informative chat with the Coach…At the same time…
Skating Moms… Have an extra bauble for the ponytails… Spare gloves without holes… Skate Polish and Covers… At all times…
Skating Moms… Hug the Winners… Console the losers… Question the Judges decisions… Like, every time…
Skating Moms…Pack their SUV’s with skate bags, scribes and kids… Heading off to the next competition… Going everywhere and nowhere… All the time…..
