Carousel Animals

"The ornaments of your house will be the guests that frequent it."

~Unknown



Meet Foster!

Foster is a silver tabby that Alan found on a freeway off-ramp this past weekend. Despite how big he appears in this photo, Foster is quite tiny. He is about 5 to 6 weeks old, and about as lost a soul as  could possibly be! He is also quite lovely... and cuddly... and every single day, I fall more and more in love! The trouble is, I already have 2 little boys. Dylan and Hendrix, who turned 5 years old this past September, and they have settled into their own routines. Hendrix would probably be happy to welcome Foster into our family, Dylan... not so much! He has always been insecure, and at times, jealous of Hendrix! Over time Dylan has come to realize that I am not cheating on him, by also loving Hendrix, and we all have an understanding, but it took a long time to get to this point, and I am not sure how it would work to officially blend Foster in.

All I know is, it was out of the question to leave that tiny tabby on the side of the road! Period! Alan spotted him, saw some angry, hungry crows, chasing Foster down, and couldn't bear the thought of doing nothing! So, he and I gathered up a butterfly net, and captured him as gently as we could, and brought him home, where he has been staying in a box in our shed. We bought him two brand new blankets, a big catnip pillow, some kitten chow, and a couple small toys from IKEA. And there he is, with plenty of room to move, and sleep, and do his business, while he decompresses from all the stress of being a tiny kitten, in a big scary world.

I don't know if we will keep him.

I am not sure if this is meant to be.

All I know is my broom kept falling down all last Saturday... and you know what that means!

 

Company is coming before the end of the day!

And it did!

Mood: Uncertain

~Me :)

A Photo A Day For 6 Months: Day 131~ Required Viewing For All Presidential Candidates

"A weird in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope."

~ Philip K. Dick, The Man In The High Castle

I tool this photo in the late summer of, I believe, 2005. I only had a moment to decide if I wanted to do the photo, as we sat at a red light in San Francisco. In the moment I couldn't decide if I was invading his privacy, or, if by doing so, would make him feel worse than he clearly already did. For whatever reason, he was alone, and clearly in despair. I heard myself think the word despair in my mind, and at that moment I snapped the picture. It left me with a lot of sadness afterwards. But at the same time, and in many ways, I knew I had photographed something profound, almost like I saw the lesson, or perhaps saw the meaning of the momentary play, that I had just seen.

It has not been lost on me that my camera has provided me many different ways off seeing the world. The good... following a film idol around as he makes cinema magic, the BAD... the mean spirited hatred of opposing opinions, and the UGLY...the protest signs on the Cal Berkeley Campus which had pictures of the atrocities Bust/Cheney war... and yes... the PROFOUND... the day to day life of the homeless. It's their pictures that I can't always bring myself to share here, but there are times that I feel that they need to be seen, and acknowledged.

Please take a look at the whole picture, if you feel comfortable doing so, and tell me what you see. Tell me how you feel. Tell me your impression. Every time I look at it, I see something different that moves my impression of it along like a kind of evolution. He is dressed in fairly new clothing, despite the rip in the jacket. He is wearing nice polished shoes... and socks... you don't see that often on the homeless. He has a large cart that belongs to him, and holds what is probably his only world positions. He is sitting on the bench, with a bottle of alcohol next to him... and a glass with a dark beverage inside it. Also something you rarely see, a homeless drinking from a glass, as if he couldn't forget his manners.

It seems that he was very new to his circumstance... and it had devastated him. I state the obvious. I know what I feel about it, and I will never forget him. Just a couple years later, Alan and I would go through one of our worst times in our marriage, financially speaking, and here we are, a few years later back to something resembling a more normal life. We are among the lucky ones. I thank God almost every day that we made the decision to not have children. I have seen the devastation this economy has had on families. Friends. Losing houses. Not having enough to eat, even with 2 paychecks. Sigh.

I could say a lot about the events of the last week or so. But I won't. I will just say...

I believe this photo should be required viewing for all presidential candidates.

I believe this image is the point. The point of everything.

~Me

Today's Link is from our friend JR...

JR
http://jrclinephotography.blogspot.com/2012/09/apadf6-127.html

Three Silver Tabby Cats

"There has never been a cat who couldn't calm me down by walking slowly past my chair."

-Rod McKuen

I spotted these three silver tabby cats the other day, while I was out doing errands. They are more then likely feral, which makes me a little sad, because they look like beautiful, wonderful cats. I had a silver tabby when I was a young girl, her name was Chloe, and I loved her very much. She was my constant companion when I needed a non-human friend the most. I would come home from work, dead tired, and there would be Chloe to sit on the tops of my tired feet.

Chloe had a strange quirk, as most cats do, she liked to pick at my hair, when I got out of the shower, while it was still wet and uncombed. As I styled my hair, Chloe would sit on the back of the chair and pick through my hair as if she were styling it. LOL. It was a fun routine. Sometimes I would talk to her about whatever the latest hairstyle was and ask her opinion. I don't know... I know it sounds strange, but even to this day I run my worries and concerns past Elvis. Cats have gotten a bad reputation of being creatures detachment. That's not always the case, you get out of a relationship what you put into it, and that's true of a relationship with a cat as well.

My various pets all taught me something. An animal doesn't have the same prejudices that humans do. They don't feel sorry for themselves, and they don't hesitate to try, because failure is not the point. When Elvis was diagnosed with diabetes, I fell apart, while he showed amazing patience with me, while I learned to give him injections. He had to change his diet to something he would have rather done without, but he never took his condition, or the changes in his life out on us. I truly believe that on some level, he had a greater understanding on life then I did, and I really did learn from him.

When I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, just a few months after he was, I felt really sad, but I couldn't look my cat in the eye, and not try my best to take care of myself because of his example. A year later, I am kicking the ass of Type 2 diabetes, and taking no prisoners. I have a great support system in my fur baby. He sees me through the rough patches in life, by doing what he loves to do the most, which is care giving. I am convinced Elvis was a nurse or maybe a teacher in a past life. LOL. He is an amazing cat, and if you could meet him, you would understand what I mean. Folks who have just barely met him, remark on his demeanor and politeness, and more then one person I know has fallen in love with him.

I wonder what these little homeless kitties might have had to offer a potential human friend? Do they possess a sense of humor that would have made this difficult life much easier to live in? Are they compassionate and understanding? Would they have fiercely protected their owner as well as any guard dog? It will never be known. They never had the chance to know what life was like for cats on the right side of the fence. Looking at their outer beauty reminds me of Chloe, and how I spotted her at the Animal Shelter where I adopted her from.

I was holding her sister, a beautiful silver cat, when Chloe poked her head out of the cage, and extended her neck really long to get my attention. The sister cat curled into my shoulder and cuddled me, but Chloe just seemed to have a look on her face that said, "Hey, what about me, I'm a nice girl." It was as if I could just hear the words. Chloe wasn't as pretty as the other cat, she had a strange orange spot on her nose, but she had an inner beauty that I couldn't look away from. I adopted her that day, and she was my companion for 10 years until her death. She wasn't just a cat, she was my family.

I know one thing, after Elvis is gone, and I have had a chance to grieve for him, I will adopt a new little one to take care of, and who will once again fill my life with all the love in the world. That's what they do. It won't be a transitional cat, to help me take the loss of Elvis easier, theres nothing that will ever make that easier. Elvis is the pet you don't get over. The new cat will be a new friend to go adventures with. Someone who will continue to teach me new things about life. A cat in their own right.

-OndineMonet
"Three Silver Tabby Cats"
San Leandro, California
July 15th, 2008
Late Afternoon