Writings

Tag: cats

Puck’s last ride

One of the first pictures I took of Puck. I used my Sony 3.2 megapixel camera.

Note from Irene: A former editor once told me not to include more than 10 pictures in a post because people will lose interest. I’m breaking that rule today.

Paul and I made a trip to the Panhandle Humane Society to sort out the final details of our cat, D’Argo, who had been tragically struck and killed by a vehicle on Highway 71 near the University’s Panhandle Research Center. Before we went in, I specifically mentioned we needed to wait a while before we got another cat.

While I was speaking to some folks inside, one of the employees spoke with Paul, expressed her condolences and then said she knew what would help. She went in the back and came out with a 9 month old Flame Point Siamese cat. I looked at Paul’s face when she placed the cat in Paul’s arms.

“Damn it. We have another cat,” I said to myself.

There go my fingers

WARNING: GRAPHIC PHOTOS BELOW

I stopped screaming when I was 9 or 10 years old. No one came to save when I was 3, 4, 5 years old. They still didn’t when I was 8, 9, 10 years old. So, I internalized my screams and pain and stopped asking for help. I have wailed once since then on the day I nearly lost my eye, but I did not scream. Monday was different.

Solace does not come in darkness

Harvey outside our place at 554 W. 42nd Street.

Appreciating Londo and Harvey on National Black Cat Appreciation Day

Although every cat owner thinks they will only ever have one cat, the cats choose differently. Paul and I have had five cats since moving to Scottsbluff, Nebraska. Today is National Black Cat Appreciation Day, so here are pictures of our two black cats, Harvey and Londo.

A good day

Tuesday morning was windy. It was so windy, I mentioned to Paul if I was still living in New York, I’d think a hurricane was coming, but this is western Nebraska, so it was just windier than usual. It would also turn out to be a good day.

I’m not saying it was Aliens but…

I read a lot of things on the internet so you don’t have to. I research and look at the all the angles to make sure I can dig down to the truth. Then I share it with you.

The arrival of Londo

‘Sup? Here’s a story about me.

On Saturday, July 7, 2018, Paul was driving east on 42nd Street. As he passed the hospital, he saw an animal wobbling across the road. He thought it was a squirrel and thought he’d better check it out. When he did, discovered a little kitten, about five or six weeks old, was nearly blind from the conjunctivitis and goop oozing from his eyes. Paul picked up the kitten and brought him home.

She soothes my soul

Cinders stares off into the distance.

Sometimes the purring wakes me up.

It’s 4:30 a.m. Without opening my eyes, I can feel her head nuzzled on my collar bone. She’s only partially awake, but I must disturb her so I can begin my day.

Like clockwork, she comes near me at 7:20 a.m. She extends her left paw toward me for head scratchings and belly rubs before I head out the door.

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