0630/24th May

If forty years of psychotherapy did one thing for me, it taught me how to recognise “triggers”

By identifying the source of an emotion, you can understand it, deal with it and move on, instead of allowing it to fester.


If I could zero in on my WP problems maybe I could deal with them too.

Yesterday I was wondering if my eyesight was actually deteriorating at an alarming rate.

So perhaps WP was taking the initiative by suddenly and without notice providing large script.


Very considerate, but distracting.

Coupled with its refusal to upload random images, it has got me off to a bad start.

But I shall persevere.


Distributing breakfast to my demanding friends, I detected a low feeling in my gut.

Not that I am a great ray of sunshine, especially first thing in the morning.

But there it was, melancholy.


In part I could attribute this to Lucy’s plaintive cries of last night.

Her world went dark so suddenly, depriving her of what I assume were small pleasures, such as knowing where she is and where I am.

Placing her on my bed is not the answer because it’s not what she wants.


Her nightly routine, right up to the day she went blind, was to jump on my bed, cross over me to the other side, cross back and disembark, so to speak.

Perhaps she was “tucking me in”.

She sits beside me all day now and when I see her stir, I put my hand out to let her know I am still there.


Lucy’s life began badly with the loss of an eye, then being abandoned.

When she came to us, she had a very painful ear complaint .

She’s been happy ever since and hearing her cry is sad, even though it may be inappropriate to project my feelings onto her.


Then there is dear old Toby.

We do not know exactly what is wrong with him but certainly he has pain and we have tried to help, but administering a pill would be torture for him and the liquid pain reliever makes him froth at the mouth.


He will let us know when he has had enough but in the meantime he has an additional problem.

The fur on his right flank is deeply matted. I had to give up combing him because he wailed pitifully, but now the mats are causing discomfort.

Last night I restrained him and eased some of the fur out as gently as I could, but he doesn’t understand why I would hurt him. Why should he?


Yesterday had started off all wrong when I put my feet into slippers that I discovered were wet.

Grant’s theory is that peeing on stuff is a grey cat thing. I can’t deny that every grey cat I have had dealings with has managed to anoint a wide selection of items and locations.

It is also a multi-cat thing.

For Willow it is an anxiety and possibly a nerve-related thing.

Call it what you will, it is vexing.


Willow is not Panther “come back”. But I like to say that he issued her with joining instructions:

“Whenever you are not sure you have her attention, pee on her stuff!”

Panther didn’t just pee on stuff either, but I’ll leave it at that.

And yesterday it wasn’t just my slippers that had to be fumigated.

Days like this you are running short of patience when you get to meal time and they all start acting picky.

Picky about what they will eat and about where they will eat it.

The swap-a-bowl routine till we don’t know who has had a bowl and who hasn’t.


What else was making me melancholy?

Wild animals that go missing? One has to accept that it will happen.

Then there’s those that are disabled.

A crow with a withered claw.


It manages.

But yesterday I watched it launch awkwardly into the air from the grass.

And I thought how sad for a crow to lose its ability to strut.

All emotions that I create in my mind, based on human experience.


There are those who believe it is wrong to expend on animals feelings that should be reserved for human beings.

I understand. I get it.

But such people do not understand and seem not to believe there is anything they need to understand about us.


People who feel too much for animals are defective in some way. Amoral perhaps, certainly not worthy human beings.

It’s how we are dismissed.

It wasn’t all those other matters that caused my melancholy.

It was a trigger.


When I examined my thoughts, trying to make sense of why I was sad, melancholy and, in the end angry, it was as if a whole series of facts had suddenly lined up.

It is too late in the day to start down that road now and I have to decide whether or not there is value in writing about it.

That trigger seems to have had a domino effect.

9 thoughts on “Dominoes

  1. C smith, sad to hear of your sickly kitties and your concern for the ailing wildlife too… I am sure they gravitate to you because of your love for them all. Bless you! Susan xxx

  2. I realise that this perhaps trivializes your thoughts but I am not try to dismiss or diminish them when I say there are times when WP is enough to sending one screaming down the street in frustration. Or least slamming the device across the room.

    1. I have been known to chuck bits of technology around! I try to remind myself of all the benefits technology affords us but sudden unannounced and unnecessary changes that bog me down frustrate the hell out of me!

  3. A problem shared is a problem halved…so the saying goes. Of course it’s a load of baloney or, perhaps, that should be another word starting with B! Anyway, vent your spleen Carolyn. That definitely is worth doing. Not that the cats will take the slightest notice! Love and hugs to you all. πŸ’›πŸ€—πŸ˜»

  4. Thank you, Carolyn, for your philosophical musing. You are certainly not odd as indeed
    St. Francis of Assisi wasn’t when talking to the birds or other wild animals. You are being kind to all the creatures around you, and that is what like so much about you.


  5. When our dogs were sick (or even just acting abnormal), it definitely affected us. We would zoom in on them to try and figure out what we could do to make them better and at that point not much else would matter. We can’t really do anything about the disappearing wild life and for our pets we can only do as much as they allow us to do, right? What can I say to make you feel better … not much I think. To go out and walk helps me – looking for new things in nature and appreciating the fact that I can still put one foot in front of the other. Sending you hugs πŸ’Œ.

  6. Sadness at seeing your cats come to the end of life, and even the Crow unable to strut, is completely understandable. I shut out all thoughts of life without Ollie, as to lose his unselfish friendship and loyalty is unthinkable. But we all know those times will come, and we will deal with them as best we can. Or not deal with them at all.
    Best wishes, Pete.

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