Honey was probably the most patient cat I’ve ever known. He was my buddy. He trailed along behind me or sat on top of me or lay on my feet to keep them cozy while I slept for most of my childhood. We had an American Bull Terrier, some people call them pit bulls, that Honey would ride like a bronco, providing the family with laughs. His only problem was he fought a lot and even though he was quite large, strong and quick, on occasions he’d come home torn up. I had to be injured irreparably before my parents took me to the doctor. The cat was a step down the rung of the importance ladder. Mom would usually try to clean him up and doctor him a little but the general thought was leave him alone. Animals have a way of taking care of themselves.
When I was 8, my sister, her humorless husband, and baby daughter moved back to Colorado and in with us. Her husband made it a point not to laugh and my dad? well he never spent half a day without a joke of some kind. I didn’t really understand his lack of participation in our laugh feasts, but my father was bent on correcting the situation. My brother-in-law’s stoic reserve came to an end rather curiously.
Honey came in ripped and bloody. Mom wasn’t home. My sister and I looked him over with compassion. My heart was as torn as my cat’s skin. I might add here that my brother-in-law was also not fond of cats. He thought we should just shoot him. My dad suggested the things mama tried and that we might shoot Dean instead. That got an eye roll from the stoic.
Patty and I started in gathering our weapons of love before trying to contain the cat. Disinfectant, salve, gauze, tape, warm water and rags made up our veterinary supplies. My dad and I held the cat. Dad got the hind feet cause they kick harder. I got the fore legs, though they were closer to the mouth, which no one thought of.
Honey lay surprisingly still as my sister cleaned and dressed the ugly open wounds. Gradually the cat began to be uncomfortable with the whole thing, but we held firm. He chewed at my hand a little but stopped when I yelled. He had a lot of injuries this time. I’m not sure what it was that brought the cat to life. The last tape was not yet in place holding the last gauze when Honey shook us all off like loose rags and bounded to the highest point he could reach in the room, knocking varies pretties out of his way. He pulled away the unfinished bandage and began to lick the wound furiously. Then, as we watched on, his eyes bugged out, his tongue wiggled furiously and he began to howl.
He ran about the upper perimeter of the room, jumping and climbing from perch to perch. Each time he stopped, his eyes would bug, his tongue would wiggle furiously and the howling and jumping would start again. It’s not that compassion did not reign in our home, but that was the funniest thing I’d ever seen a cat do and it went on and on until we all, including my brother-in-law were rolling around, sides aching, trying to get our breath from laughing so hard. My dad stood up, shook my brother-in-law’s hand and welcomed him to the family.
Eventually, the cat sat still, eyes wide, body frozen. He’d make a move as if to lick his sore and then he’d stop and resume the frozen cat position again. This went on for some time. Finally my mom came home. Yes she saw the humor in it all, but she wouldn’t have the cat trashing the place. She gave the cat a bath, handed him over to me in a wet towel and told me to be gentle with the sore places but dry him off. As soon as he could get down, he ran into hiding and I didn’t see him again until the next day.
It’s a classic family story and every one has his own telling, but I like my version best.
The picture of course, is Hobbes.
Who the heck am I anyway?
There are times in our lives when we ask ourselves and maybe our mates just who we have become. Of course, we only ask our mates if we trust them enough to not tell us the deepest fears they hold or if we distrust them enough that we can write off what they say if it displeases us. I’m married to a prince who gives me an official sounding, ambiguous answer that I have developed sense enough to accept.
To say I’m tall, a little heavy for my small bones, have hazelly-brown eyes, blondy-brown hair that curls if given a chance (and a little moisture) and blue tinted fair skin that forms tiny freckles easily and tans seldom, is so superficial! That’s not me. That’s the packing. If I eat less, that changes. If I stress too much, that changes. If I get ill, that changes. If I plant a garden in the spring, I’ll be blonde again and if I spend more time by the pool, my freckles will eventually run together.
I read once that ‘to know thyself’ is the ultimate form of aggression, so much for my passive sweetie pie image. I’ve been going through this search for the real me for a time now. I really do think I have a clue most of the time, but I’m not sure others I’d like to have a clue do. Some of my ‘v’ friends have posted question lists which they dutifully answer with innocuous facts and a few “none of your ___ business” replies which leave me wondering “Where did they get those questions and why did they include the ones they didn’t wish to answer?”
But, if you go to blogthings, you can answer 5 or 10 unrelated questions and someone will tell you everything you always wanted to hear but couldn’t get a spouse with integrity to say. I’ve saved these little things time to time and I can now give you all a good idea of who I am without being a narcissistic derriere porte. After all, I didn’t write this stuff! So my search for me has been satisfied. And to think, a year ago I didn’t even know blogthings existed.
I have a hidden talent. I’m super sensitive and easily able to understand situations. I tend to solve complex problems in a flash, without needing a lot of facts. Decision making is easy for me. I have killer intuition. The right path is always clear, and I’m a bit of a visionary.
(There is at least one statement here that will make my close friends and offspring roll on the floor.)
My Element Is Earth. I excel at planning and strategizing. I could be a champ at chess or Survivor. Well grounded, I am able to be realistic and rationalize. On the inside, I have a hard core. It's tough to phase me. I am super productive, and I am able to think anything through. Focused and super charged, my instincts are a good guide for my next step. (Read that – you doubters! Actually, I went back and tried to make it give me fire, but it wouldn’t. I’d already posted earth, so earth it is.)
My Blog Should Be Purple I’m an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything. I tend to set blogging trends, (noone would follow) and I’m the most likely to write my own meme or survey. (?someday) I’m a bit distant though. My blog is all about me - not what anyone else has to say. (hey, hey here.)
I Belong in 1972 (a very bad year for me) Bold and brash, I take life by the horns. Whether I’m partying or protesting, I give it my all!
At Thanksgiving, I Am The Stuffing (huh?) I’m complicated and complex, yet all my pieces fit together. People miss me if I’m gone - but they're not sure why. (huh?)
I Am Sunrise I enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. (Yeah, right) I enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. I am a person of reflection and meditation. I start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, I enjoy making people happy. I’m often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. (I do not try to buy my friends anymore!) All in all, I know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be. (Duh!)
I Am Mint Green Balanced and calm, I have mastered the philosophy of living well. (As opposed to? . . .) My friends seek me out for support, and I am able to bring stability to chaotic situations. I’m very open and cheerful - and I feel like I have a lot of freedom in life. My future may hold any number of exciting things, and I’m ready for all of them!
Sesame Street: I Am Bert Extremely serious and a little eccentric, people find me loveable - even if I don't love them! (huh?) I am usually feeling: (huh?) Logical - I rarely let my emotions rule me. I am famous for: Being smart, a total neat freak, ( gee, she’s a neat . . . freak, yeah.) and maybe just a little evil. How I live my life: With passion, even if my odd passions -like bottle caps and pigeons- (huh?) are baffling to others.
I Am A Blue Flower A blue flower tends to represent peace, openness, and balance. At times, I am very delicate like a cornflower. And at other times, I am wise like an iris. And more than I wish, I’m a little cold, like a blue hydrangea. (Cornflowers are very hardy, I’ve never known a wise iris and if hydrangeas get cold, they die.)
I Am 55% Left Brained, 45% Right Brained The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning. Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others. If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic. Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet. (I like a good book, yeah, with the cat on my lap and the music going, yeah.)
The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility. Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way. If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art. Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports. (Go Hogs!) (Day dreamer who counts things and talks a lot)
I Am 4% Sociopath I’m empathetic, loyal, and introspective. In other words, there's no way I’m a sociopath... but I can spot one pretty easily! (Of course my introspective empathy wouldn’t let me identify him)
Who Should Paint You: Andy Warhol I’ve got an interested edge that would be reflected in any portrait. I don't need any fancy paint techniques to stand out from the crowd! (Again and again and again and)
I Am Pepperoni Pizza Robust and dominant. When I go for something, (especially pizza) I go full force. I tend to take control of situations easily. And in return, I get a ton of respect. (especially if I bring the pizza back)
My Lucky Underwear is Blue (Huh?) I am caring and extroverted. I've made relationships my number one focus, and my lucky blue underwear can bring some balance to them. (That is tooooo obvious.) I thrive in one-on-one situations. I am a good listener and a natural born therapist. (Sitting there in my blue underware helps them feel empowered.) Sometimes I let the concerns of others become too important in my life, leading to stress and worry. If I want more balance, I put on my blue underpants. They'll help me take care of myself first. (Yeah, I’m not going there. Especially in my blue undies.)
So now, you know all about me.
