Stress Relief

This past week, new levels of ugliness were unleashed by the McCain-Palin campaign.

It’s stressful. It’s stressful and anxiety-provoking to think that maybe America’s soul is permanently fouled with racism, that for hundreds of years it’s been convenient for some people to vote completely opposite their economic interests so long as they don’t have to grant equal rights to or acknowledge Those Ones.

I’m sickened with the fear that our old habits will reassert themselves and the latent racism of millions of people (combined with GOP voter fraud) will deliver McCain-Palin to us in 2009. It’s hard to keep equilibrium; it’s hard to feel like one’s small efforts to phonebank or canvass or write is enough let alone effective.

It’s oh so hard to keep the faith and believe that this time, America will do the right thing and enough people will elect Obama-Biden so we can have a fighting chance of figuring out our huge financial problems and sort out the rest of what we need.

So, here’s something overwhelmingly cute and hopeful.

I can haz hug now?

Chimps, with tiger cubs. Go to the slideshow and knock yourself out on cuteness.

(Thank me later.)

My Cat is Sexually Harassing Me. Make Her Stop.

Wasabi is the velour one, with colors like a Sigfried and Roy white tiger.

And man is she oversexed. I think maybe they didn’t quite get everything they were supposed to remove during the spay, because this girl is a freak. And you know what I’m talking about.

Wordless Wednesday: Wasabi Cat

Wasabi, or Wa-sa-bah, as renamed by the Unreliable Narrator.

Wordless Wednesday: The Shag One (Ebi)

Furchild Ebi as a kitten before we adopted her. About 10 weeks old. (We had to wait another 2 weeks.)

Feline Horror Show

It’s just Animal Day here at P i l l o w b o o k Central. This one comes with a “don’t read while on your lunch hour” advisory. Let’s just say it involves skid marks.

Glow-in-the-Dark Cats

these sci-fi cats glow red in the dark.

Moby Has Two Mommies

Moby Has Two Mommies

i’m warm acquaintances with two women i’ll call “ellen” and “portia” after two famous hollywood lesbians in a committed relationship.

today when i went to drop something off at “ellen” and “portia’s” house, i took the UN with me. (preschool doesn’t resume til july 9.) he’s been there before once, and had the opportunity to play with the couple’s two cats moby and digit.

we did our errand, chit-chatted, had a snack, played with the kitties, and were on our way. the UN in particular really enjoyed moby, the outgoing little tuxedo kitty of the house. moby allowed his tummy to be rubbed and was all-around very kitteny and playful with the UN. in turn, the UN was delighted.

in the car on the way to our next destination, the UN tried to make sense of the situation.

“where does ‘ellen’ live?” he asked, puzzled.

“do you mean, where does her family come from? where did she grow up?” i asked.

“no, where does she live?”

“‘ellen’ lives with ‘portia,’ honey. they’re going to get married later on.”

there was a little bit of silence in the back seat as the UN digested this information. then i almost heard an audible click as the light bulb went on over his head.

“oh, you mean it’s like moby has two mommies, like R. at school has two daddies,” he said.

“yes, that’s absolutely right,” i told him. he got it, he totally got it.

Missy Diva and Her Animalectomy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wasabi Hides. The All-Seeing UN & His Painted Toes.

 

so ebi has a long silky coat, which in the wintertime gets pretty thick. it’s a problem when it’s springtime, though…she’s a lazy self-groomer (she tries to get her sister to clean her face!) and she doesn’t get enough brushing from me and big snarly mats form in her fur.

recently she had one of these wretched mats on her chest. i mean it literally went from her collarbones to the mid-portion of her stomach. it was like a piece of very thick felt, a felt so big and animal-nasty no kindergartner would dream of using it. that “felt” could’ve soled a smallish shoe. it was a second animal she’d been sporting on her underside: a fur-clotted pilot fish to her mostly asleep-all-day shark.

on these occasions i’m driven by guilt and disgust to take some sharp trimming scissors to the mat. i had to be careful as one time i mistakenly poked her with the sharp tip and she recoiled and looked at me reproachfully and with confusion, as if to say, “why’d you bite me, mamacat? i was being good and letting you groom me.” i felt terrible as the scissor tips are sharp and i drew a bead of blood.

A Close-Up of the Bald Spot.

 

so this time i crouched down and carefully cut parallel to her body with the fingers of my other hand in between the scissors and her flesh, and i detached that second animal. the fur mat had formed a dense layer that hovered above her skin and was really only held in place by a few key sections of guide hairs. i cut those and the mat lifted away. a successful animalectomy.

 

 

The Animal After Its Removal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i threw it in the middle of the floor and she and her sister sniffed it and then ambled away.

It’s All Somehow More Comical On Its Side, Isn’t It? AKA, It’s Vertical On My Computer, Why Isn’t it Here?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From Far Away, It Could Be a Lone Slipper

 

the whole time, the Unreliable Narrator watched every detail closely and with extreme interest.

some day, son, all this will be yours.