Chasing My Tail

It’s been a busy day. I feel like I’ve been chasing my tail all day. Which is ironic, considering one of the tasks was taking the dog to the groomers.

The groomer is at the veterinary’s office. So Max wasn’t pleased when his car ride ended at the vets. All was well, after he arrived home. A treat worked wonders.

Panic ensued among the staff at the clinic, as a cat patient escaped, and was hiding somewhere on the property. At least Max, didn’t make a run for it. He doesn’t, at present, smell as much like a dog.  As much as I’ve tried to raise him right, Max doesn’t especially like cats, anyway.

Some Catching Up To Do

Another birthday came and went. Birthday cakes aren’t large enough to hold the required number of candles.

The younger set is impatient to age, the older set wishes aging would slow down.

Visited with friends over a long weekend. Many enjoyable highlights. Scars from last year’s tragic fires were still present in Gatlinburg and Smoky Mountain NP.

Ridges covered with bare trees, stark skeletons of burned-out homes and cabins. Hilltops bulldozed over–some decided to rebuild, others took insurance settlements, and left.

Went deep undercover in Tennessee Vols country Saturday.  No one was the wiser.  Faithful fans cheered for positive yardage; fell silent during penalties in a very lackluster game with UMass.

The two mutts were glad to be released from incarceration at the kennel on our return.  Their lockup due to their incompatibility with felines.

One morning in the restroom, I was startled when one of the male cats jumped from behind the shower curtain.  The other, growled from concealment.  Thankfully, the conflict didn’t escalate, while I was in a compromised position.

Max and Maggie would be disappointed to know, while they were kenneled, we were visiting with cats.  It will remain a secret.

That Darned Cat

Same litany repeated, over-and-over, for the last three years.

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You’re fat because you’re lazy

You’re lazy because you’re fat

Was that the best he could do?

What was up with that?

Why did I keep going back

To heart the same thing

Again and again?

You’re too fat!

Get back to the gym!

What was wrong with him?

I don’t know when it happened

I swear that it’s the truth

Doc, this is where I’m at

It’s all because of Dr. Suess

And that darned cat

Curse of the Cat People

What’s considered creepy?  One person’s creepy could be another’s cool.  Two years ago, this cat mask struck me as creepy–still does.

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Thoughts drifted

nosed dived

tossed, turned

in time, with

the reincarnation

of the Olsen twins

Crashed and burned

my fried mind

left far behind

No wasting time

stuck to facts

Things could be

worse than that

That–and the curse

of creepy cat people

Inch-By-Inch, Step-By-Step…

She stalked my two dogs this morning.  A friendly little Manx cat wanted to make their acquaintances.  The friendship was not to be.  Maggie hated all cats, made no distinction between friendship and aggression.

Maggie, upon her arrival, convinced her brother canine, that he would be wise to follow suit.  Maggie growled, barked; disrupted the normally quiet neighborhood.  The little cat didn’t give up and followed our entourage for about a block.

An unplanned trip to the dentist lies ahead this morning.  All attempts to divert my attention, are welcomed.  Unfortunately, tooth pain has failed to squelch my appetite.  It’s made morning coffee less enjoyable–that’s unacceptable.

Do you remember, girls snipping loops from the backs of boy’s ivy league shirts; collecting them like trophies?  They called them “fruit loops.”  That could have been featured on a “Laverne and Shirley” episode?  Boys that wore shirt collars turned up were thought of as “hoods.” Of course that went along with greasy hair, “ducktail” haircuts, and “pegged” jeans.  I guess that was the predecessor of “gangsta” culture.

The Chase Was On

I only had one hand free, this morning, when the mayhem began.  The other hand, held a plastic bag full of doggy doo-doo.

When myself, and the two mutts walked around the brick parapet at the entrance of the subdivision, all heck broke loose.

One of the neighborhood “crazy cat lady’s” cats walked, stalked, or whatever cats do, in front of my dogs–who were leashed together.

The leash was out of my hand in an instant, and the chase was on.  Through the first neighbor’s yard, around their boat, parked in the driveway, into the second neighbor’s yard.

Max was baying like a hunting dog, until heard him yelp.  Oh well, they’ve caught up to the cat, I thought.  None of the three seemed any worse off from the experience.  Like is usually the case, no neighbors heard the ruckus.