| That Stupid Cat (In Memory) |
[Aug. 31st, 2009|09:22 am] |
I've not seen or heard Milo for more than a week now. For whatever reason, he's been gone and it hadn't hit me until this morning. A man was driving by in his truck, and, when seeing Sekhmet dive under our car, pulled over and asked if she was his as he'd been missing his gray cat for two days. I took a close look to be sure, but it was Sekhmet, not his cat. I told him so and told him how I hadn't seen my big orange cat for nearly a week. He looked at me strangely and said, "Not Milo?" That startled me because I wasn't exactly sure who the man was (I remembered a little later that he lives around the corner and his daughter is one of the children who originally brought Milo to us.) But, I said that yes, it was Milo and he shook his head sadly and remarked how Milo was (or had been) a good cat, quite the cat. We said good-bye and he drove off and I was left sitting on my front porch suddenly hit with the reality that my big, stupid furball face wasn't coming home.
I really dislike it when people wax romantic over their animals. They are, after all, animals and I subscribe to the belief that, while animal life is important, when choosing between killing a cow for food or letting the cow be, I go for beef. I do think God gave us a custodial position over the Earth and its inhabitants. I particularly like the Native American way of using everything that can be used from an animal, even thanking the spirit of the Buffalo (or which ever) for its sacrifice for their (the Indians, rather) well-being. I like how the tradition shows respect for all life and recognizes a sort of hierarchy of being while abhorring waste. You have to be something of an animal person to get teary eyed over someone's lost pet. But, all life being sacred, and knowing Milo intimately (as well as one can know a cat and its myriad of ways) for the past year, having watched him grow, play chase me with my daughter and cuddle into a warm lap (the only consenting lap cat we had), I feel sad and somber. He was, after all, my cat.
He was also the neighborhood's cat. I first saw him being pranced around the neighborhood, soaking wet from being dumped in the ditch behind the houses, by a troop of small girls. He'd come from a family of cats down the street and all the girls wanted to keep him. All of the girl's parents did not want to keep him. So I took him in, much to Benjamin's exasperation. He managed to survive house-training (Benjamin is not forgiving of a cat urine soaked towel). He managed to learn that Suess the dog was not going to eat him (and, later, learned that Suess made an excellent rubbing post). He learned that Alanna liked to play, but didn't like to be scratched. And all the while, the girls and their brothers and friends would come by and check on his progress. He was a very personable cat, rushing across the road to socialize with children waiting for their bus, or to hijack joggers for attention. Ben and I have taken walks with him and found a number of people who knew him because he was bold and friendly and made efforts to be chummy with everyone.
He didn't get along well with the other cats who don't get along with each other. There's a sort of mutual understanding - stay out of my face and I'll stay out of yours. Which Milo ignored, either to be a bother or the eternal hope of finally shaking hands, I'll never know. I'll also never know where's he gone or why. That's the bugger of having indoor-outdoor cats. You give them a larger territory, more freedom, the ability to hunt, but also give them the option to leave. You give them mental health (cats who are allowed outdoors are infinitely happier, and once they've been out it is heart-breaking to try and keep them in) but you endanger them because the world is full of disease, people with cars and alligators. Ben and I take that chance, having come to the conclusion that we'd rather have happier, short-lived cats than cats left indoors. Plus, it frees up any responsibility regarding a litter box. (A big, big point in favor of outdoor cats).
Despite disliking the sappy odes often written for lost pets, I'm still writing one. I am grieved for a lost friend. It would be wonderful if he'd come trotting up the street, his fluffy tail high in greeting, but I know this won't happen. I'd been in denial for several days, knowing that at some point the reality would hit me, which it has, this morning. I grieve for every cat I've know and said good-bye to. Cait Sith (or Cassie), because we wouldn't take the polar cat from her Michigan environment. Yoru, because she decided she wanted to move on. Nox, slowly withering away to sickness and my own culpability in her death. For every kitten that my cats littered and that had to be taken away because we could not keep them. I try very hard to not be sentimental, but I am afraid I am very much an animal person. I see their intelligence, their society, their individuality and I enjoy their company. I don't think God would have given animals such potential as companions if he didn't intend them to be so. I guess, then, grieving is alright as long as you don't expect the whole family to show up for a funeral, complete with casket and headstone.
I am now very much in danger of being trite, but my daughter has gotten herself into a mess and I really should go rescue her. Thus, life goes on (there, the triteness) and I should let my sadness settle back into the appropriate place of my heart. |
|
|
| Here and there. |
[Aug. 25th, 2009|04:02 pm] |
A lot of things happening and a lot of things not happening. While staying with my parents during Ben's two week AT, I quit smoking. My biggest motivator is that my daughter is old enough now that she constantly mimics my actions. Unfortunately, two days after getting back home, being in the same place I've smoked (only outside, but with triggers everywhere in the house), I had a mini-breakdown and bought more. It's embarrassing that I can't control myself. I've done a little bit of research on the subject of nicotine addiction, etc. Wikipedia gives some rather sad figures on quitting on willpower alone (3% success rate or some other ridiculously low number). I believe the greatest obstacle for myself will be/ is that I use smoking for stress relief. My stress relief method previous to smoking was physical self-abuse. With this in mind, I've been looking for healthier methods of stress relief. I don't handle stress well at all. Again, another thing to be embarrassed about.
As for healthier methods. Nothing healthy (as far as I understand) will never be as immediate as addiction fulfillment. The cravings themselves are stressors. There is a period of withdrawal (big stress) in which personality is completely off the rocker. Having a year and a half old baby is a stressor (especially since she's learning to express her independence). The self assigned stigma of somehow being "less" because I find myself unable to deal appropriately (by my standards) with stress is, yeah, you guessed it, stressing. I do have a low opinion of myself.
Addiction itself is interesting to me, since it concerns me in some ways. I found an essay written by Mr. Tolstoy (The Ethic of Wine-Drinking and Tobacco-Smoking) in which he presents the idea that addiction stems from an inability or unwillingness to follow one's conscience. Instead of doing what our inner compass tells us is right, we waste time on inebriating ourselves in an attempt to stamp out the protesting demands of conscience. I found it interesting and applicable to myself.
Another reason I've felt the immediate need to quit is that I smoke, exclusively, Djarum Blacks. Which, if you follow Obama and his recent endeavors, have been banned by the FDA and will no longer be available for purchase in the USoA. I won't bother putting forth opinions on the matter. Though I am curious about what the government will tax in order to cover the loss of income from flavored cigarettes.
Bah and humbug. I've already had one cigarette writing this and I shouldn't start another.
The weather is lovely. There's been a drop in humidity with a slight chill on the breeze, which in Louisiana is a god-send. The flowers in my front yard are a big and luscious as ever. One of the cats hasn't been seen around the house lately and I am wondering if Blackitty has been driving him off. She really is the El Gato Gestapo.
Benjamin has been motorcycle shopping. We have three bikes already. The Ducati, however, is in my parent's garage, awaiting my father's mechanical investigations. The Honda is too small to ride on the I-10 with any sort of confidence. And the Yamaha will eventually be sold. When I've finally learned to ride, the Honda will also be sold. The Ducati will most likely forever be around, even if we can only look at it. It really is a lovely bike (Ducati 907i.e. Paso, 1991). |
|
|
| Oi. |
[Mar. 8th, 2009|07:25 pm] |
Mardi Gras this year was interesting. Mindy accompanied myself and the baby to our first parade. We sat along the line near where Benjamin was roaming up and down in his peace keeping duties. The noise didn't go well with Alanna so I had to take a break with her in the bus set aside for carting police. But other than that, it was a good time and I'm glad I experienced it.
After all the wonderful excitement of Ben working twelve hour shifts (for Mardi Gras), we had a "domestic situation without the violence" (Ben's words) involving a close friend of ours. It's still on-going so we'll see how everything pans out. Hopefully, it pans for the good and not the bad.
And now a friend from Michigan is down visiting. We need to go to the airport in a minute here to pick up his misguided luggage. I've not had much sleep so let's hope I don't go bonkers crazy over some little thing.
We've been trying to improve our familial eating habits. With all this up and down activity, it's been harder than it should be. It's already harder than it should be. I sort of have everything in reverse. I don't like to eat and only do it when my stomach becomes too painful to bear. I'm used to being half-starved. I really, really want to change this. I need to eat, I need to watch how I eat (in the hopes of helping my hormonal up and downs) and I need to provide food for my family. My husband works hard, he needs the right sort of energy. My baby needs good food and good food habits. I might be skinny but I'm no healthier than your average couch potato. Possibly worse off because I still struggle with smoking. I pushed Ben's tiny Honda Rebel into the garage the other day. My arms and shoulders are stiff from this little action. It's frustrating and fills me with self-hatred.
And! As if this weren't enough! We had an incident at a gas station where a customer walked in, started causing problems, and, when the cashier and Ben "escorted" him out, he resorted to yelling threats and "I kill cops, bitch!" What fun.
Ok. We're going now. Which is good because I need food. My head is starting to hurt. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 26th, 2008|04:50 pm] |
|
I miss Britain and cups of tea. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 16th, 2008|12:40 am] |
Benjamin called me up and asked me to look this story up.
More Insanity
Which is almost as bad as Ashley Terry waving her gun around in front of a school or whatever it was. She was Ben's classmate. She was "Flag Carrier" even.
Sometimes, it's embarrassing to be of the same species. |
|
|
| Travel List |
[May. 30th, 2008|03:31 am] |
Ben's AT starts this weekend and goes for two weeks. I'll be dropping him off on Saturday. My brother flies into the city on Sunday. He's coming down to drive the Geo Prism up to my parent's while I drive their car (currently on loan to us. They have a few vehicles in various stages of reliability). I'll be staying in Dallas for those two weeks of AT.
( Cut for people who really don't care. )
I'm not organized. I make it up as I go along. Lynne's Untrue Traveling Philosophy: If you forgot it, you didn't need it. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 23rd, 2008|04:34 pm] |
It's really rather warm today.
I am excited about Ghosts I-IV from NIN. I always like the packaging - it makes my graphic design senses tingle.
Another pregnant cat. Two generations of cat because I didn't get them to the vet soon enough. But I have excuses! Like an emergency appendectomy.
Oop. Thingy done printing. Going now. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 25th, 2008|10:55 am] |
the dog came back, of course, and looking slightly guilty. Expecting to be fed, too. Can you believe the audacity?
Now it seems our adult female cat is attracting all the wrong kinds of attention. Cat-wailing, yowling and burring all night last night.
at my last appointment with "ze doktor," i told her i had a bruised ribs (mostly just because she asked how I was doing and I thought it was kind of funny to have bruised ribs from such a tiny thing). conversation like so:
doctor: what happened? what did you do?
me: i didn't do anything. it's this kid and it's little fists of fury.
(doctor's face goes from concern to eye-rolling) doctor: oh. don't talk about the baby like that!
Like what? It's true. The kid is a wriggler with aspirations of kung-fu mastery. I have sneaking suspicion that modern obstetrics focuses largely on the product, less so on the producer. Or so has been my experience with this doctor - who, upon my asking about childbirth classes, gave me a rather stupid look and said, "like lamaze?" this - in my seventh month. We've since discovered that the hospital provides free classes. Never mentioned by doctor. I'm tired of hospitals. End of story. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 23rd, 2008|10:15 pm] |
Waiting for the dog to decide to come home. She rarely runs off to the point of losing all contact. Guess eventually everyone must grow up and do stupid things for themselves. >.> <.< >.<
FBI alerted local police of expected rise in gang activity, particularly initiation shootings targeting women & children, during the next month (because of marti gras? who knows. get someone down here to study this stuff). So if you live in the greater New Orleans area - just a thought. Most of the time when I hear things like that I go "yeah, yeah." But it's the FBI and the police and my husband, so it's different.
Eastern Promises, speaking of crime, was a very interesting movie. Loved the tattoos. |
|
|
| Say What Now? |
[Aug. 7th, 2007|03:40 pm] |
Someone I know.
Put John Singer Sargent
in the same grouping
as
"smear feces on canvas = art" peoples
because how can we define "art"
and whose to say what isn't "art"
and, even worse, he said JS Sargent's watercolors weren't "finished."
And.
And.
It's like putting all men with long hair into a Goliath category! It's just not right!
(Why I'm upset about this, I don't know. This is the same person who said, in public, surrounded by New Orleanians, most of those people down in the Superdome during Katrina could afford to miss a few meals because they were fat. Seriously. I'm not joking.)
Sometimes I wonder if the right to bear arms conflicts with freedom of speech. Or maybe they balance each other out? |
|
|
| whoseits and whatsits |
[Aug. 1st, 2007|11:41 pm] |
Ben started NOPD police academy this Monday. The physical demands are nothing to BCT - but they do want everything nice and pressed, uniform. A difficulty because the city has so little money (or, rather, so little direction). And because we have so little money (or, rather, so little direction).
Fingers are all sticky from eating an orange.
I began reading "A Wizard of Earthsea" today and finished it. So now I am on to the next and the rest. Le Guin, again, manages to hold my attention long enough. I rarely read books now a days and it is rarer still that I finish them. I've read bits and pieces of Pratchett, Zelazny, Tanith Lee (I did finish "Black Unicorn", which is short and well written). I skim through comic books (like Lucifer, Hellblazer, Fables) then pick them up again later, out of idleness, to read a section or so at a time. This is very odd because I've always loved reading.
Interest in things comes and goes.
Come to think of it. I haven't really finished reading books for a long time now.
I'm still very hungry. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 10th, 2007|06:49 pm] |
|
Is it just me? Or is Facebook too much fun? |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2007|12:10 am] |
Ok. So I have my new laptop! I'm so excited. We get internet at home soon - a few days. Then I will be all on the web.
(It's a iBook - all matte black and t3h schmexy.) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 27th, 2007|04:25 pm] |
i actually found the books rather scary. innit s'mtin? |
|
|
| Computer Kaput |
[Apr. 24th, 2007|05:37 pm] |
Well, the laptop has (rather suddenly) decided it wants a break. The screen cops out and then everything freezes. Mind you, it's an '02 Powerbook, bought new in '03, and lugged about the country, through security, airports, cars, walks, college. It's been dropped, kicked, stepped on, slept on, cat-walked, painted on, drawn on, hot chocolate spilled over the keyboard and into the vitals... Ah, sweet companion of four years...
How dare you die now!?
It's because Ben's thinking about getting another computer, isn't it? My dear, you could never be replaced. You are my first, truest love. Honest.
And don't think I haven't tried the requiste sacrifices, bashings and pleading threats.
I love my Macintosh. ^_^ (Even if he hates me.)
RIP (for now, little buggar.) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 18th, 2007|12:03 am] |
Oliver Reed in The Three Musketeers - yar! It's actually a rather hilarious rendition.
I'm tired. There's no use. Tired. Sleepy Lynne.
Sleepy Lynne go sleepy.
*snooze* |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
imitari's journal