We Need Each Other

"Say, Toby, Wendy says that patch of sparse fur up on your left hip looks like you maybe got into a catfight. This morning she saw this cat out on the edge of one of the pastures. She got this picture..."

"That's him!!!! That's Vladputin!!!! That cat thinks he's so cool. He just came strolling over here to take over my pastures and woods. Somebody should get rid of him!" Toby's hair on his back stood up. "First, it's the roosters, especially the big white one. Now it's this guy bullying his way onto my territory. Next thing you know, he'll try to take over my barn. You better believe my hellcat came out and he'll have to think twice about barging his way over here again." He looked so agitated that I sat down with him and he climbed up on my shoulder. I could feel his heart beating rapidly.

"Is this what the pandemic, and politics, and climate crisis feel like to you humans?" he asked. 

"Mmm-hmm. Sort of. You remember the long list of catastrophes we made a little while back? So, yes, I think I understand what it must feel like to have Vladputin threaten your territory."

His warm furry side against my ear made it easy to hear Toby's rapid heartbeat. Soon the rate simmered down and he began to purr. We sat together like that for a long time and he dozed off. I hope he dreamt of warm sunspots to nap in.

Art in the Time of Covid

Noting Directionless Blah of our times, in Tucson Paula took up her art supplies and rendered her expression of it...

I am unable to think of any combination of words that better express our time of
Directionless Blah.

Further, Paula finished three months' calendars of Desert Life and Colors at her Tucson home. The observations and colors take me right back to the sights and smells of the desert southwest.

She shared the color chart she put together, too. I envy the green.

Also from Tucson, Carol snapped this hawk perched on a folded umbrella outside her front window where it watches for birds that run into the glass...

Note the dove sitting on the far branch. Yes, it escaped.
(Those are the Catalina Mountains in the background. My view of them was similar out my front window nearby Carol and Janie's.)

My little stuffed friend given to me at Christmas time.

Give yourselves a break today

Let go of your muddle and make no hay

Let go of yester

Ditch the fester

It's still a pandemic and it's Sunday, okay!

Remembering Martin Luther King, Jr. 2022

 

Black and Blue Aren't Cutting It

I went down to the barn to see Toby since I knew he'll stay in there until there's a path through the snow that fell last night. He was curled up inside his igloo-like cat warming basket, but he crawled out to greet me, stretching his long feline body as he emerged. 

 "Say, this self heat-reflective cat house is the best thing you've gotten from Amazon," he said. "Almost as good as the canned cat food Wendy buys online." I doubt he knows all the other things I get online to keep me out of Covid's way.

 

I told him, "I came down here to the barn to see you and say I am tired, tired, tired! of all the negative stories and catastrophes."

 

"I wish cat wasn't part of catastrophe!" he said. 

"I didn't notice that before," I said. "I guess it's kinda pejorative."

"What's pejorative?"

"I didn't know either so I asked Siri. She said it's a word expressing contempt or disapproval or hostility."

"Eww!" he exclaimed. "That's what happened to us cats back in the middle ages when humans laid a blame trip for the Black Plague on felis silvestris catus."

 

"You're right, Toby. And cat pejoratives hadn't gone away when the witch trials were going full blast either. We ladies were the main blame story then, so cats didn't get the full monty--people just thought you were helping out the ladies with black magic."

 

"But, hey," he said, "I'm with you on stopping this brain bruising. I'm tired of wanting to climb up high in a tree. You and I both know the fire department doesn't come anymore to help us cats down from trees, and a good arborist with a cherry picker costs big bucks!"

"Yeah, same here. I'm sick of my mind wanting to hide under the bed. Besides, the dust fuzzies make me sneeze."

"So, what do we do about our black and blue brain bruises?" I asked him.

"I'm not the one you want to ask since I'm a loner and territorial. You're the social one. And, I'll point out, there are billions more of you than me.

We sat together on some hay bales for a a while. It was peaceful.

 

 

Then, I had a thought and said to him: "We humans could use a motto I saw over at the Mennonite Heritage Center. It goes like this: 

 

'We Have dedicated ourselves to serve all men in everything that can be helpful to the preservation of Men's lives, but we find no Freedom in giving, or doing or assisting in anything by which Men's lives are destroyed or hurt.'”* 

 

Then he said, "Sounds like it's best to just do the next right thing."

 

Suddenly, Toby's body went into full alert, his attention now on a skittering sound coming from the feed storage a few feet away. In an orange flash, he closed the distance and disappeared behind the feed barrels.

________

*Mennonite minister Benjamin Hershey, in a petition to the Pennsylvania Assembly, November, 1775.

 

 

At the Arts Desk: More from yours truly and Procreate...

 

 From the Weather Desk: Waking up to snow this morning...