Not Just Monday

I need to write today even though I have been neglecting Older Eyes – Bud’s Blog for over a month.  I need to write something to make me cry, to stop holding at bay the sadness I am feeling over the loss of a friend.   My son’s Siamese cat, Mr.P. has been missing for three days now.  He’s always been a little escape artist, waiting for an open door to slip away on an adventure in the great outdoors.   In the past, he’s always returned within a day, usually slipping in through the patio door left open for his return.  The hills around our home in Anaheim Hills are full of interesting creatures for a feline to stalk but they are also home to larger predators, like coyotes.   With each passing hour, our hope that Mr. P will come home fades.  It’s just a cat, Older Eyes, and not even yours, you may be thinking.  Well, for one, he isn’t just a cat and for two, I’ve loved him as if he was mine.

Crazy Friday

When I got up this morning and headed downstairs to make coffee, the cats were waiting for me outside the bedroom door, Elvis just staring at me with those big Crazy eyes of his and Mr. P meowing like Crazy (or at least what passes for meowing with a Saimese cat.  They aren’t also known as Meezers for nothing).  When the beans were ground and the coffee was ready, I poured myself a cup and added a splash of half-and half, only to see it curdle.  It drives me Crazy when the half-and-half goes bad and I ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee.  I did my Morning Pages at the kitchen table on my tablet with Elvis and Mr. P nudging me like Crazy for some attention.  Cats.  On the way to the park, I pulled up behind a van stopped at a Stop Sign.  He may have been waiting for it to change because he didn’t move until I blew my horn.  Probably texting.  Cars were going straight from the right turn lane and turning left from the right turn lane … and an SUV almost side-swiped me when the driver tried to slip by on my right only to discover that the lane was closed ahead.  But, in spite of the crazies on the road, I made it to my favorite place in the park, ready for some peace and quiet.  Didn’t happen … there were three Crazy kids feeding the ducks then trying to hit them with sticks when they got close enough.  Of course the kids are Crazy because their parents are Idiots.  Dad was a big Idiot so Older Eyes kept his mouth shut until he couldn’t stand it any more, then came home.  It’s officially a Crazy Friday.

Friday Favorites 12/13/2013

Back in October I posted about our son’s Siamese cat, Mr. P and his interesting relationship with his own tail.  When he has what I’ve come to call Twitchy Tail, his tail seems to have a mind of its own and he will watch it intently as it swishes about … often tickling his nose or face.   Even if he manages to catch it under his paw, the tip will continue to twitch.  I get to watch his antics frequently lately because his position of choice during the evening is on my lap in my recliner, a position that traditionally belongs to my laptop.  If my laptop is already in place when he arrives, he’ll  climb up on my chest and nuzzle my face, which I believe is Siamese for, Please move your laptop.  Sometimes, he backs down onto the keyboard, adding his own words to my post.  I believe that, ish eidnk 38iw is Siamese for, Move your freakin’ laptop.  Sometimes, I give in and end up watching TV with him contentedly curled on my lap.  And finishing my post in the morning, as I am today.  One night this week, he had a mild case of Twitchy Tail and I was able to capture it on my smartphone.   I say a mild case because he had things pretty much under control unless I pulled his tail from is grip.  Please don’t report me to PETA for animal cruelty.  It was for good cause (this post).  The music is Linus and Lucy from the Vince Guaraldi soundtrack to the Charlie Brown Christmas shows.

Twitchy Tail

My son’s cat, being a Siamese, is a very peculiar person.  If you have ever lived with a Siamese, you know exactly what I mean.  If you are a cat person who has never known a Siamese, this will still make sense to you because all cats, in one way or another, are peculiar people.  If you are a dog person, you may not understand my affinity for the particular peculiarities of felines but I hope you can appreciate how much joy I get from this pet.   And if you are cat hater, well, you can just move along.   There is nothing here for you.

Wild Cats

No tame animal has lost less of its native dignity or maintained more of its ancient reserve.  The domestic cat might rebel tomorrow – William Conway

Mr. P, my son’s Siamese cat, comes from very exclusive bloodlines.  Legend has his ancestors owned only by the kings and queens of Siam for hundreds of years, arriving in the West only when they were bestowed as gifts to European visitors.   While Mr. P can certainly strike a dignified pose, reserve would not be one of his attributes.  He is vocal and demanding when he wants something … and believe me, his baby-like cry is anything but dignified.  But if you watch him as he sits watching the birds and bunnies out back through the patio door screen, his tail and back muscles twitching, you start to see the Big Cat hiding in the Siamese Cat body.  And if you’re around some night when he slips out through a door momentarily left open, you’ll likely get to meet The Hunter.   He may come home with a mouse or a shrub rat, a snake or a rabbit almost as big as he is.   And you know … he’s not all that far from this guy.