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The more our species evolves, the bigger the muddle we seem to create for ourselves. Wherever you look people and creatures are suffering.
If caring would solve any of it, I would happily dedicate a few hours every day to fretting but to the best of my knowledge, all this accomplishes is the acquisition of grey hair and stomach ulcers.
So, periodically I make pitiful contributions where I think it is just possible the money will actually be spent as intended. I do my best to vote responsibly, and I focus on the world around me where maybe my efforts will help.
Mostly, that’s what I write about.
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The morning mist caught my attention yesterday and when I zeroed in on it, I noticed Cooper up in the waiting room tree. It watched as I climbed the porch steps but seemed not bothered by me.
“Don’t eat my friends!” I urged.
As if it would listen.
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You might think days shouldn’t vary much when you are retired. That might be true if your life was not controlled by feisty felines.
Today, I rose a little later having gone back to sleep after being woken at 0445 by the waste removal truck. They probably had to fit in extra stops because of Monday’s holiday.
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It may be an unfair observation, but it seems to me that people who work in the small hours make as much noise as they can manage, perhaps feeling that if they must be awake, so should everyone else.
On Long Island I lived near a railway line and couldn’t imagine why it was necessary for the driver to toot the horn quite so enthusiastically in the middle of the night.
Before I had the dubious luxury of experience, I believed that in a hospital one ought to creep around speaking in hushed tones. I’m sure I remember road signs urging motorists:
“Hospital…Quiet please”?
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Yet hospitals are among the noisiest places I’ve ever had the misfortune to find myself in.
Nurses laughing down the hall. The wheels on the mobile medical cart. Deranged or distressed patients crying out.
And so on.
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Anyway, I was later rising than usual. I like to go out before breakfast to top up the feeders, because otherwise I get the sense that my small friends watch me reproachfully as I break my fast.
Once the downstairs crowd rises, they need to be fed, so I try at least to get out the door before that happens, resulting today in neglect of Willow’s morning ritual .
The details are unnecessary. Suffice it to say something got pissed on. Not the pears, this time, but an item that would require laundering.
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Life with cats.
They know how to convey their displeasure and when recently we found ourselves the adoptive care-givers of a young boy-cat…
There would be consequences.
This we knew.
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“Wot? I didn’t do nuffink!”
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The boy has grown a lot, but we can hardly call him Medium-sized Man and he isn’t quite Big Man yet though he may become Big Boy eventually.
He responds, in as much as any cat does, to Little Man, so why change it?
Until he is full grown, we don’t plan to let the boy go exploring outdoors. When he turned up under the hedge, it was obvious from the condition of his coat, that he had not been out long and he hasn’t shown any interest in escaping.
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My preference has always been for cats to remain safely indoors, particularly as Mohammed, my first cat disappeared. He had been allowed out and though I tried to re-educate him, once they get a taste for the outdoors, it’s what they yearn for.
We are off the main road here and outings are brief. These cats know where food and shelter are. So I stopped protesting about doors being left open for a few minutes during breakfast, once Little Man is situated behind a closed one.
“Flies and bugs will come in! You’re letting hot/cold air in!” I had complained to deaf ears.
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There was a squeak this morning, which we put down to Little Man playing with Sophia’s favourite toy.
Then, while I was finishing chores:
“Oh! Come down here quick!”
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A misguided chipmunk had found its way in, so now we had to somehow escort it back out while fending off half a dozen cats. Sophia and Blackie aren’t much interested in live toys.
Arriving downstairs, I saw the thing dive under Grant’s work table, so we knew at least where it was and could ensure that the cats were contained elsewhere.
But how to get it out and into a conveyance? The table is a solid fixture that cannot be moved, so I suggested gentle poking with the yard stick.
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When it comes to these sorts of maneuvers, capturing cats for transport being another, let’s say we think differently.
Somehow, the chipmunk vaporized. It was no longer under the table. Let’s also say there is rather a lot of stuff down there, which made searching difficult.
In the end it was my opinion that the creature had fled upstairs, so I returned to my chores:
“Call me if you see it!”
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About to resume sweeping up, I heard the scrabbling of small feet in the vicinity of the bookcase.
Blackie had big eyes! “What is it?”
At least now it was in proximity to an outside door. Ensuring that the chipmunk would not rush off in the wrong direction, we rattled things about and sure enough, out it shot and made tracks for the door.
“Not that you aren’t welcome. It’s just not safe!”
I called after it.
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What is it with animals (and flying beasties) that when there is a safe exit right in front of them they go the other way?
Thank you, Carolyn, for your interesting musings! Just to tell you, my day was stressful because I could not access my emails. My laptop and my password didn’t work together! Finally, end of the day someone clever helped me!
Joanna
Wow, such beautiful early morning photos and I love the butterfly shots! Oh yes, hospitals are definitely not the quietest environment there is (even if it should be) … I think that was the complaint I had to hear the most from patients (this and the fact that nurses wake them up so early when they’ve finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning). Ha, with cats and a chipmunk in one room you guys had an exciting morning – glad everyone is unharmed!
Glad to hear the chipmunk escaped. I know what you mean about noisy hospitals from my time as an EMT. We tried not to use the sirens on the ambulances unless really necessary, but London is a 24-hour city so it was usually necessary at some stage on our way to a job.
Best wishes, Pete.
Well I think an ambulance could be excused from making noise. It’s all those others!