On the Tenth Day of Christmas....

ON THE TENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME...MY CRAZY CAT!

OMG, my cat scared the hell out of me today.  Prone to sleeping on my pillow, she had curled up in such a way I didn’t realize she was there until I shifted my arm slightly and felt her fur.  Her fur was so cold and she didn’t seem as if she were breathing.  I shook her, trying to rouse her.  She didn’t move.  I shook her harder, starting to panic.  It wasn’t until she raised her head and gave me the biggest stink eye that I realized that no, she hadn’t just died on my pillow.  She was just sleeping very deeply.  The asshole. 

For those of you who have never met my cat, she is old, grumpy, deaf and fat…and like all cats, is indeed an asshole.  Originally owned by a friend of mine, I acquired her about 2-3 years ago when my friend moved to Colorado.  She couldn’t take the cat with her due to her heightened travel anxiety (the cat allegedly almost died when they tried to tranquilize her on a previous trip across state lines), and so she came to live with me. 

Shadow (her given name) is a 14 or 15 year old, grey, short-haired American Tabby.  I originally thought she was named Shadow because of her color, but only found out semi-recently it is because she instead likes to follow her owner around the house.  Although, she is not on my heels at all times, she is definitely much happier when she can be in the same room.  In fact, my daughter tried to get her to hang out with her in her bedroom this morning.  Shadow was having none of it, howling at my daughter’s door until she was released. 

And oh, yes, the howling.  Although some vets think howling is a sign of dementia, my cat actually does it because she is deaf.  At first we thought she was just ignoring us (asshole cat, remember), but she doesn’t react to any noise whatsoever, not even her own.  So unless she is part sphynx….  Anyway, I am convinced she clearly has no idea of how loud she really is due to said deafness. She still has something to say, however…usually “Where is my food?”  or “Where are you?” or “Clean out the cat box already, woman.”

But let’s talk about the elephant in the room.  And by elephant, I mean my cat.  When I first acquired Shadow, we went to visit the vet.  Upon weighing her, the vet said she was only 11 pounds.  Considering I have bruises from her climbing on me with her tiny little paws, I don’t see how this is possible.  They had to have been off by at least, I don’t know, 6, 10 or even 50 pounds.  She is short with stubby legs and a veritable cat loaf.  She has therefore ceased to be but a walking Shadow and has instead been renamed Princess Tubbergut.  Yes, this is likely on par with fat-shaming my cat, but my chubby little diva comes by her name honestly.  This is her world, she only deigns for us to live in it. 

And yet, I love the little punk.  Sure, she exhibits some pretty obnoxious or quirky traits (like patting my mouth when I am asleep…is she checking to see if I am still breathing or trying to smother me?  Maybe both.), but she has become a pretty good companion for this single gal.  Due to joint custody, my daughter is only home every other week.  How lovely to have another tempestuous, outspoken teen in the house with whom to watch Netflix.  No, I have no plans on becoming a crazy cat lady, but sometimes, I really do much prefer Tubbers’ company. 

Now you’ll excuse me as I go poke my cat and give her a snuggle.

Until Next Time, Lovelies….

On the Sixth Day of Christmas....

ON THE SIXTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME...AN APOLOGY

I’ve recently been dealing with the potential loss of a close friend.  The details of our row are not important, but suffice it to say he had not acted in accordance to what I consider the number one rule of human interaction of “Don’t be a Dick.”  I felt like my patience and resources had been used and abused.  Although he claimed to love (platonically) and respect me, I felt neither of those things.  Better to rid oneself of the head and heart ache by severing ties with a “friend” like that.  I was absolutely prepared to walk away from the friendship.  

And so I began, unbeknownst to him, of course, the process of dealing with the emotional wreckage.  I distanced myself from him, unfollowing him on Facebook and maintaining radio silence.  I only succumbed to the occasional sobbing-in-the-shower jag.  I was doing fine.

I really only "had my mad on" for a few days, when, lo and behold, he sought me out, wanting to allegedly apologize and to make amends.  At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet with him and was, in fact, even cautioned against it by some of my other friends.  I do try, however, to give people the benefit of the doubt...and, hell yeah, I felt I did deserve an apology.  I acquiesced and we met for coffee.

In the tearful, exhausting hour and a half that followed, he did indeed apologize.  Not just the casual, reactionary  and innocuous maybe-not-really sorry type of apology either (Oh, you know the ones I mean…like, “I’m sorry you’re mad” or “I’m sorry we’re fighting” or, worse, “I’m sorry for the outcome of my actions, but not really the actions themselves.”).  No, this was a genuine, heartfelt apology with an actual, coherent grasp both of the situation and my feelings.  Honestly, it was the only thing that would have worked to repair.  OK, maybe a little John Cusack with a boombox action would have too...although I don't know of any songs for healing a friendship that wouldn't come off as too romantic.  Ha ha. 

And while it is the ensuing actions that will determine the course of our friendship in the future, for now, I can only hope that we are on the mend—and that our friendship will indeed be stronger for it.  I will try, therefore, to keep both my heart and mind open enough to allow the healing to continue.  A girl needs all the friends she can get sometimes. 

Until next time, Lovelies…. 

On the Fourth Day of Christmas....

ON THE FOURTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME...THE MUPPETS

Stuck in the bottomless rabbit hole that is YouTube the other day, I came across a clip from the 1979 film, The Muppet Movie.  Old enough to have seen this film (and every subsequent Muppet movie) actually in a movie theater—and the first run of “The Muppet Show” and “Muppets Tonight” and "The Muppets" on television besides—I’ve always appreciated the comedic, plucky nature of the characters, the cheesy yet cheeky sense(s) of humour and the often ridiculous storylines.

Although Kermit (with his easy going can-do spirit), Rowlf the Dog (sweet and laid back) and Gonzo (delightfully clueless) hold special places in my heart, it is impulsive, tempestuous and feisty Miss Piggy with whom I most closely identify.  I think at some point I even wanted to be her.  Always ready with a karate chop (or “pork chop” as was the running joke) or a sassy quip, she wasn’t always very nice or particularly generous, but there was something about her.  Maybe it was her fabulous wardrobe, her bouncy blonde hair or just the fact she was voiced by the same person who voiced Yoda, but she was a gal with which to be reckoned. 

And yet she has often left a wake of (emotional) destruction in her path, time and time again.  We first see evidence of this in the scene in The Muppet Movie where Rowlf and Kermit bemoan the fact she has just left Kermit in the middle of a date…and then in almost every single movie thereafter!  Of course, that isn’t a path I would choose to follow, (hey, dates are hard to come by!), but sometimes shit happens…sometimes in such a way that a relationship can’t be repaired.  While it is true, however, that sometimes the “destructor” is also destroyed or at least admonished (remember Piggy dangling from the cliff in Muppet Treasure Island because Long John Silver was mad at her?  Ha ha.), I still think Piggy and her selfish behaviour could well serve as a reminder that we still need our friends and loved ones.  I know I’ve said it before, but a lack of appreciation or compassion is really so detrimental to any human (or Muppet) connection one would hope to have.  True to theory, Piggy’s lack of awareness bites her in the pork butt almost every single time. 

But let’s not spend too much analyzing the mating rituals of the somewhat ill-fated Piggy and Kermit.  There are so many other lessons to drawn from the Muppets.  After all:  Life’s like a movie.  Write your own ending. 

I leave you now with a clip of the Muppets performing Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”.  Mostly because it also features my favorite “new” Muppet, Pepe (the King Prawn!!!) and Janice (fer sure, like totally) from the Electric Mayhem.  And, well, Muppets. 

Until next time, Lovelies….