FURRY LOVE & FUR COVERED ME

I still laugh and cheer when I see the video of that cat tearing into the dog attacking her small owner. I had a female cat exactly like that! She was a Russian Blue with a white half-moon on her belly that looked just like a bikini bottom and white markings on her chest & neck that made her appear to be wearing a halter top. Also she had white mittens & toes. Tasha was a little beauty we acquired at 10 months of age. Already spayed, that didn’t seem to matter to the neighborhood Toms. They still came around.

I could almost hear saxophone music playing as she sashayed down the driveway swinging her saucy little behind. Meow- wah-wah-waaah! Meow-wah-wah-waaah! However the Toms learned fast that Tasha wasn’t game for their advances.

My dogs & cats were never pets. They were family members and fully-empowered canine & feline Americans.

Our small female dog Coco, was her step-sister. She was terrified of big dogs! A neighbor had 2 large Labradors that often came onto our property. They would gang-up and playfully tease Coco who didn’t enjoy the harassment. Tasha would race to the rescue with teeth & nails barred, yowling & hissing! Those big dogs would shoot off down the street in dire terror as if she was the devil! It was hilarious to watch!

Until 2003 I always had either a dog or cat, usually both in my home. I’m germ phobic, but this does not apply to animals. Right into adulthood, my mother was always yelling at me to stop kissing the dog & cat on the mouth. And I’d holler back, “What’s the big deal, people kiss babies!” – I’ve never been one of those people who think babies are cute, not the human kind anyway!

Eating mammals makes me feel like a cannibal. I’ve always avoided it whenever possible.

Around 2004 I was in a Thrift Store when I came across a beautiful faux fur jacket for $5. A great imitation for sure I thought and what a bargain! After I got it home and examined it. I discovered to my horror it was the real deal, genuine silver fox! Now I felt like a hypocrite, but throwing away $5. made me feel guilty. So, it just sat in my closet for a few years.

Later, my friend Margaret came again for a fun day out on my birthday. The day was an extremely cold one by Florida standards. I was debating whether or not to wear the beautiful fur. I decided OK, maybe this once.

First, we stopped at a gas station. As I stood pumping gas, I heard someone at a red light screaming, “Animal killer!" “Animal killer!” My reaction was WHERE? WHERE? I looked around. Then I realized he was referring to ME!!! Now I felt ashamed and terrible.

Margaret was comforting. “No one is kinder to animals than you. Just forget it!” she said.

Well it ruined my day! I couldn’t get it out of my head! Later, as we sat eating in the restaurant I looked at the other people chowing away. How many of those cows & pigs on their plates died from a hammer or nail gun to the head, probably in agony! Yet no one blames the restaurant for serving and the customers for ordering. -- A woman in a fur coat is a much safer target than a man sitting in his truck eating a Big Mac!

Before long, it was the middle of summer. I spotted a full-length FAUX silver fox fur in one of my catalogues for half-price. I decided to buy myself an early Christmas present. I’m glad I did! I haven’t seen one that gorgeous since. It’s a darn good imitation, too! And if anyone dares to call me an animal killer, instead of hollering back, “I’m coming after you next!” I’ll just say it’s a fake fur, you dumb ass!”

The last time I wore it, an older man approached to inquire what type of fur I was wearing. “It’s a synthetic,” I replied. I could tell from his puzzled expression he was wondering what-the-heck kind of animal is a synthetic.

“Oh,” he said, “it looks like fox.”

“It’s synthetic fox!” I explained. Finally he understood.

Once upon a time, I couldn’t imagine my life without a dog or cat. But I’ve reached the point where I don’t want one anymore. At my age, an animal is liable to outlive me. I’m seeing more members of my High School graduating class in the obituaries all the time. What if I had a stroke or heart attack, or was in an accident and had to be hospitalized! My neighbors who left me to twist in the wind during 4 hurricanes aren’t going to rush to assume responsibility for any dog or cat.

Plus with inflation my budget is growing constantly tighter!

Nowadays having an animal is almost as expensive as having a kid! Just walking thru the door at a Veterinarian’s office used to cost me $100 alone and that was over 10 years ago! Plus I like to spoil my fur babies. After my last dog died, I gathered up her things and donated them to the local animal shelter. There were so many toys, blankets, types of food & treats you’d have thought I had 10 dogs rather than one small one.

However, I do enjoy the neighborhood cats & dogs. I like them way better than most of the people. In the A.M. when I go out to fetch my newspaper, a little gray cat (I believe from one house over) comes to greet me. I don’t know whether it’s a male or female, but we always delight in a lovemaking session right there in the middle of my driveway.

DARK THOUGHTS ON A SUNNY SUNDAY

GLOOMY SUNDAY is a Hungarian song written in the 1930’s. This particular song is said to be responsible for multiple suicides. But remember, those were the Great Depression years. Not long ago, I heard it sung. Yes, it is a truly awful song! But I would be more inclined to murder the singer than myself.

Ditto for anything sung by Loretta Twang or Tammy Whinette. Whenever I’m trapped in a place where I can’t turn them off, I fantasize about lunging for their throats and strangling them to make that awful noise stop! I’ve heard Patsy Cline recordings, so I know good country singers actually exist.

A Facebook friend recently posted on her Timeline that nothing in life was going her way and she was ready to quit. I was at a loss at what to say to her, even though I was in that same state of despair for 2 long decades.

To quote Tolstoy, “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This is true of individuals as well.

I get the vibe that this person is just lonely. – And I just can’t relate to that!

Perhaps it’s because I was raised as an only child. (My brother is 11 years older.) I learned from an early age how to entertain myself, something that seems impossible for others.

Provided I had electricity and food parachuted-in at regular intervals, I could live happily alone on an island somewhere.

If anything, I’ve always felt suffocated and poisoned by all the toxic people around me.

Now that I’m alone, I’m in ecstasy! As long as I have my health, a roof over my head and enough money to eat and pay my bills, I feel blessed. Everything else, problems etc. seem trivial. But I realize that with old age, illness and inflation all of this will slowly go underwater or suddenly be destroyed at some point in the future. 

They say money can’t buy happiness. But I can’t think of one of my problems that money couldn’t solve. But I wouldn’t trade my problems for anyone else’s any more than I’d want to be someone else.

I’m not an extravagant person! I still drive the 1997 used station-wagon my dad bought right before we moved up to Vero Beach. Nor do I frequent beauty parlors or spas. To be honest, they are not my thing. And when I am eventually forced to trade-in my old car I will probably cry. We’ve been thru so much together and made so many memories. It will be a sad day.

What I do miss are those exotic foreign vacations I used to enjoy. However, I knew when I lost that staggering amount in GM Bonds the only way I’d ever see the world again is on a screen. I’ll admit this leaves me depressed. I used to live for those trips!

Whenever I stop to think of what my future might be, death is looking a lot more appealing, especially if I’m in some sort of group home or forced to labor at a tedious, soul-crushing job that makes me dread each new day. The older I get, the more it feels like I’ve stayed overlong in an alien country where I don’t like the natives! At the same time, I’m not ready to move on. Mostly, I love my life despite the negatives.

I consider this period my renaissance!

Right now, today is bright and sunny, but come afternoon a storm will set in. It usually does this time of year; you can almost count on it. Way more bad things seem to happen than good. If life can be compared to a fairytale, it's a dark one. You just have to stay strong, sober, and deal with it.

SELF-SERVE GETS ON MY LAST NERVE

SO DO OTHER PEOPLE’S GERMS!!!

The only place self-service belongs is at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I try to get there right after the doors open. That’s when the food and utensils are less likely to be touched by other patron’s germy fingers. And I always hope the staff scrubbed-up well before the food prep.  

It also annoys me when my computer or TV is on the fritz, then the cable company insists on giving me instructions over the phone on how to fix it myself. I’m not a technical person and I don’t feel comfortable messing around with a bunch of wires. I worry I’m going to disconnect the wrong one, the contraption will explode and I’ll be standing there with fried hair, covered in soot, doing the electric sizzle shake. – And that’s a best case scenario!

Now I read that soon we’ll all be scanning our own groceries. – I don’t even like pumping my own gas! Touching that handle grosses me out. Imagine how germy that thing must be! You never know where the fingers of the previous persons have been.

It reminds me of those men who ferret thru your suitcases at the airport. They should be forced to wear gloves! For all you know they could have been picking their noses or worse. Later, you’re liable to find boogers in your underwear.

Of course that could happen now with your groceries as well. And how do we really know for sure if those cashiers wash their hands in the restroom. There’s no camera over the sink. But I always figure anything unpleasant on their fingers will come off on the groceries of the people in front of me.

However, if I am going to be scanning my own groceries, I want the cashier’s salary! It’s only fitting since I’m doing their job! At the very least, I should get a big discount! But I’m not holding my breath. It is for the store’s convenience and bottom line, not mine.

This heinous trend like many others began in the 1970’s and has gotten worse ever since. Returning from vacation, I dropped 6 rolls of film on a drugstore counter to be developed. A separate form was required for each roll. The girl behind the counter shot me an evil glance for each one written up.

“What hostility!” I exclaimed to my dad as we walked away. “I’m never taking my film there again.”

“You made her work.” He laughed. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to do that!”

The following year, I took my vacation film to a photography shop. The young guy there was clearly on something illegal that should remain that way. He was unable to write or retain anything I said. This was a simple task! But the light behind his eyes had a loose bulb. And worse he was there all alone! Frustrated, I took the paper and pen from his hand and wrote the order up myself. – I sure hope he wasn’t driving himself home!

The next time, I believe it was around 1978, I went to the photography dept. of a new pharmacy. They just shoved the forms at me and tossed over a pen. It’s been the downfall of civilization ever since. 

THE HOLIDAY AT THE END OF THE WEEK

A post on Facebook read: STOP LOOKING FORWARD TO FRIDAY, MAKE EVERY DAY SPECIAL! – Actually, that’s NOT such a good idea. The weekend is my time to be lazy and self-indulgent, to eat pizza & ice cream and watch movies on my DVR in the middle of the afternoon. Unless I’m going out with friends, the weekend is make-up free. And during the warmer months, clothes-free, too!

I’ve heard retired folks say, “Every day is Saturday”. These people must have maids!!!

As a semi-retired, struggling writer, I’m home most of the time. But there’s always housework, fun activities such as vacuuming, dusting, washing, & ironing, etc... But on the weekend, anything that pertains to that certain 4 letter word (WORK) is out of mind until Monday. My weekend officially begins Friday afternoon after the mailman arrives, usually around 2:00 PM.

Back when I worked outside the home, Saturday & Sunday were just as busy and stressful as the rest of the week. I spent all day Saturday trying to cram a week’s worth of housework into that 1 day. All of Sunday was spent getting ready for the week ahead. There was little time to just catch my breath and relax.

I’ve always felt there should be 2 extra days sandwiched between Saturday & Sunday. The order would be Friday, Saturday, Marsday, Starsday, & Sunday. But until I can get the rest of the planet on board, Marsday and Starsday languish in the dimension between worlds.

Nowadays my weekend exists only for the things I truly enjoy!!! All the best horror & sci-fi movies on my DVR await me! I delight in a ménage a trois with Ben & Jerry. My 2 current favorites together: special edition cotton candy and sweet cream with the salted caramel core. My dinner table is decorated all pretty just for me. I eat only the cuisine I enjoy the most.

EVERY WEEKEND IS A HOLIDAY!!! Also it could be called my vacation at home.

This is a time not to be weighed down by thoughts of the past or what may happen in the future, but to revel in the NOW, relishing every moment! Everything but the most serious of problems will be placed on hold.

Saturday, I get up around 5:30 AM just to make the day last longer. And usually I stay up later on Saturday nights. The only thing I do that remotely resembles work is write. My words always seem to flow better then.

However, Sunday evening has an element of sadness. I’m aware that I’m quickly running out of weekend. I can almost feel Monday seeping up thru the ground, its long gnarled talons scraping my feet.

I realize there’s a time and place for everything. If extraordinary things became every day, they would soon be common place. The special times would cease to be.