If only...

...we could all do this. Wouldn't that be nice?? Lounging carelessly on the nice, soft blanky on the sofa. Not a care in the world. Your snuggle buddy right beside you. Knowing that when you wake up, there will be a plate of food ready for you in the kitchen. Knowing that all of your needs would be met at your demand.

Yep, it would be nice. If only...

Precarious Position

Ever feel like that? Like you are in a precarious position?


Webster's definition or precarious:


pre-car-i-ous -adjective
1. dependent on circumstances beyond one's control; uncertain; unstable; insecure: a precarious livelihood.
2. dependent on the will or pleasure of another; liable to be withdrawn or lost at the will of another: He held a precarious tenure under an arbitrary administration.
3. exposed to or involving danger; dangerous; perilous; risky: the precarious life of an underseas diver.
4. having insufficient, little, or no foundation: a precarious assumption.



Precarious. I think I'm feeling like that right now. I have several other friends that are feeling the same way. I think of Ben, Jen, Chase, JB, and many others, all dealing with life issues that fit within this definition.


Gracie, bless her heart, doesn't seem to know that her basket could fall at any minute. She's completely content, unaware that she's on the verge, the very precipice. No, all is well in her little world. But, in fact, she's in quite a precarious position. And oblivious to it.

You know, I think that those of us that are feeling like we are in a precarious position, would probably much prefer to be completely oblivious of it. I envy Gracie right now.

Think About It

Written VERY early last Saturday morning...

I find myself once again up too early on a Saturday morning watching Marty Stouffer's Wild America. I was caught up in the story of the mating rituals of the Spruce Grouse, also known as the Franklin's Grouse.

The male grouse spends it's days jumping from trees in what is called "flutter flights" trying to get the attention of a female. One male jumps and flutters to the ground, making as much noise as possible and clapping its wings up over his back making a sound like a gunshot, then another male does the same. All the while, they are being observed by a female. After a period of days, or even weeks, the female finally makes her choice and joins the male in his territory.

At this point, the combs over the male's eyes begin to swell with blood and turn bright red. After a few more days of him performing a strutting fan tail dance, they finally mate.

Now, here's the kicker. After all the effort the male has put in to attracting the female, once they mate, she goes back to her own space, makes a nest, has the babies and raises the brood on her own. If she happens to wander back into his turf, he will run her off.

It is interesting to me how creatures of all species have certain parallels. Think about it. A male going out of his way to show out, impress and win the admiration and love of a female, only to leave her on her own when he succeeds in winning the prize.

That's not to say that all males are prone to this behavior, but look around. There are an awful lot of females raising broods on their own...

Negligent

I have been seriously negligent in updating my blog while vacationing and holidaying (not a word, but it works for me). This is partly due to lack of time and partly due to lack of an inspiration, but I'm going to try to do better this week.

Something hit me last night that I wanted to blog about, but I don't remember what it was. I need to start writing those things down.

So...I'll try to make up for my negligence this week.

Deaf Innocence

I find myself feeling the need to have a picture to motivate writing a blog post, but after I found myself crying tears of relief hearing that my little Scooter was fine after getting "fixed up", I pulled out my camera and started looking at all the pictures I have taken of her. In this particular one, I got totally facinated by how pink her little nose and ears and feeties were. You would have thought I was stoned or something (I wasn't) the night I took a close up of her gripping her little toes.

The picture is a little blurry, but you get the idea.

She is totally, completely white, with beautiful blue eyes. She is also totally, completely stone deaf.

Having a deaf kitten in the house has been a little bit of a challenge, as in when she jumps up on something she shouldn't and can't hear me yell "NO!", but it's also been a joy. I've learned to get her attention by stomping on the floor to cause a vibration that makes her look at me. Then I can shake my finger and she's learned that means "NO!" Of course, I still say it, even though she can't hear it.

I watch her facination with things that are moving, that she can't hear. Her eyes convey such trust and pureness, and when she looks at me, I can't help but wonder what is going thru her mind.

Which brings me to my point. Until this morning, this little deaf baby has only seen probably 3 human beings in her short life. Suddenly, her most trusted human has put her in a little black carrier, transported her in a car and deposited her with strangers that begin sticking things in her and putting her back in a cage. All of this in complete silence. The vet says I'm probably taking this a lot harder than she is. By tomorrow after I'm able to bring her home, she'll forget all about it. I hope so. I would hate to think that I've caused a little being so much trauma. Of course, it would be far worse to have allowed a deaf cat to get pregnant and have kittens she wouldn't be able to hear call for her, and would have a huge chance of being deaf themselves.

I expect tonight to have Ringo fussing at me, wondering where she is since they've become fairly regular snuggle buddies.

The one to the left was made when she was a bit younger.

The one below was made a couple of nights ago.

At least I can talk to him and tell him she'll be home in the morning. And he'll give me the slow blink that I know means he loves me and believes that all will be well.

When I do get little Scooter home. I will do everything I can to reassure her that this is her PERMANENT home, that she is safe, and she is loved.

She can then resume her innocent life in complete silence.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I've always been facinated by the way an anole (lizard) can change colors based on it's environment. The other day, I was fortunate enough to be able to capture images of one going from bright green to brown as a result of encountering fresh pine straw.

How cool would it be to be able to change color just to blend in? Then again, would you really WANT to live a camouflaged life? Of course, now that I think about it, I guess some folks do. I don't know. Kind of thought provoking, though...

They're BAAACCKKKK

I wrote the other day about the little lizard paradise being wiped out and replaced with the skimpy pansies. I didn't see any lizards at all for two days. I finally saw two yesterday and then got this pic this morning of a little guy perched on the handrail looking down into what used to be heaven with a very puzzled look on his face. I can imagine him thinking "Crap! It looks even worse from up here!"

Maybe he had climbed up the post to get a better look to see if there was anything left of his magnificent kingdom. No such luck.

The next time I see him (assuming it's the same one), he is now down amongst the pansies surveying the damage.

Bless his heart. He's thinking "Good grief! Now WHY did they have to go and do this?? With this much space between the flowers, I'll spend more time brown than I do green and I HATE being brown!"

Well, of course, that might NOT be what he's thinking at all, but I'll bet it's something along those lines.