Its a Pisser


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Earlier this year we adopted a female cat after Charlie suddenly disappeared.

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Miss Luna/Looney or Missy Cat….take your pick she never really answers to anything even though she came with the name Luna.

Admittedly, the cat had a hard life, she’s got a sob story that would make any of her heroins lives look like a cake walk. The story goes she was left behind in an apartment when the tenants moved out and found by the landlord several days later. Landlord took her in but couldn’t keep her. A friend of the landlord took her in but couldn’t keep her. A friend of ours took her in, she had kittens who were all adopted leaving Miss Luna alone and….you guessed it….the friend couldn’t keep her. Whatever happened to this cat in or before it got to that apartment I don’t know. She’s pretty and she comes with a back story and even though it was against my better judgment to open my home to a female cat we took her in.

She spent the first few weeks hiding around the house but it didn’t take her too long to want to go outside in the summer sun. So she did. She quickly grew accustomed to the neighborhood and came and went several times a day.

Went.

Yeah.

She would spend hours outside. Hours. Then she’d race to the door, scratch like hell until I let her in then she’d zip down to the basement to the litter box.

Huh???

Yeah it took her quite a while to learn that it was ok to pee and poop outside. (I think Harry must have laughed at her one day or something.) Yet, she wouldn’t do her business just anywhere. No, she insisted on using the patch where the toilet sat for several years. A nice big ring of soft dirt…the perfect outdoor kitty box.

Oh well, at least she was going outside.

One night I climbed into bed only to find my side had been peed upon. That’s gross! I stripped the bed, found interim blankets, washed the other ones and thought maybe Harry had an accident. He’s old. He’s got a bum leg. It happens. Then, one night as we laid in bed watching TV Luna jumped into the pile of dirty laundry, wiggled her butt, and yep, started peeing right there as she stared at us defiantly. Hubby threw her outside for the night. Over the course of the summer the bed was peed on once more and the couch 3 times.

Then…it stopped. For months. No idea why. None at all. I was just glad that it did.

Monday I was making dinner when I thought I got the faint whiff of cat poop. I looked all around for it and didn’t see anything. I figured it was just me. I finished dinner. Tuesday I was making dinner when I smelled the same thing but stronger. I got down on all fours, opened cabinets, opened the pan drawer under the stove, sniffed, looked, and hunted.

Nothing.

Wednesday I was making dinner and smelled it again but only right in the corner by the stove. I looked over and noticed the recipes in my clay pot had water stains. For a second I thought that was an odd place for a leak, right under the cabinets and all. Then I realized it wasn’t water. The whole pot was full of cat piss! Recipes ruined, dry packets of garlic dip floating in old urine and pot holders soaked in it. I nearly screamed. I threw everything out except the little muffin tine tucked in the clay pot and the clay pot, it’s a really nice pot–a clay dutch oven type of a thing. I put that in the dishwasher and cleaned the whole area.

Thursday I went to get something and the little tin bread pan inside the clay pot was full of urine! I thought maybe I’d missed that the day before although I didn’t see how.

Friday…no problem.

Saturday…no problem.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that was because Miss Luna spent Friday and Saturday nights outside. I knew I didn’t want to take in a female cat. I never have these problems with males. Ever. Harry has never once pissed where he wasn’t supposed to not in all 14 years of his life neither did Ozzie or Hercules or any of them. It’s just the girls. Even when they’re not pissing on something they’re very temperamental. I almost didn’t take in Little Maggie because of it but, as briefly as she was with us, even she didn’t pee in the house.

Yesterday I ripped the corner apart, took everything out of it! I bleached and double bleached and let the bleach just sit there. Then I washed the pots again and put them in cupboards. I rearranged the area so it wouldn’t look like a convenient cat box. I called both cats in last night, well I only meant to get Harry but Luna looked so dejected when I wouldn’t let her in that I did.

About four o’clock this morning she started meowing in my ear and nuzzling me. It’s 4am, I’m not getting up! There’s a perfectly CLEAN cat box in the basement. It’s filled with the same litter I’ve been using for months.

Sure enough, I went down to the kitchen this morning and the counter was covered with it. She was eating at her bowl, looked at me as I screamed; “YOU BITCH!” then I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, put her face all in it and tossed her out the door! Then I cleaned it all up again!

It’s a shame. Miss Luna has finally come around and is wanting to snuggle and be pet here and there. She’s a very beautiful cat and soft as a rabbit. I hate to add another sad chapter to her book but if she doesn’t stop doing this I won’t have another option except to make her an outdoor cat. With winter coming on I don’t want to do that.

So….if anyone out there has any suggestions as to what her problem is and how to make her knock it the hell off I’m all ears. If anyone wants a beautiful but snobby and pissy cat…let me know that too. Free to good home.

Cats n Politics


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Strange title, huh?

Yeah…I know but….hear me out then pause, think for a few minutes, and then feel free to let me know what you think.

Here we go.

It’s Political Season again. Woot! (OY!) All I ask of you, my friend, is to hang in there with me for about another month. I don’t care who you are or what your political slant is just freakin’ hang in there with me! Please?

If your TV/Radio/Facebook Feed/Email is anything like mine you are currently being absolutely bombarded by political bullshit. The real problem is, you and I bothy know it just gets worse from here right on up to Election Day.

Oh my Gods! This is just awful. It sucks. I hate it. Truly, I do. In Aunty Moon Land corporations will not be people, PACs won’t exist, you’ll have to run on your merit (cough…choke) and you’ll be limited to 3 ads per day per TV/radio station and publication. You can go On The Road all you like. Kiss babies. Shake hands. Wave from the caboose of a train. Debate. Cut ribbons. Go door-to-door…yourself. Have fun meeting John Q. Public, Jane Doe, and Joe Average. Should be a blast for you. You may NOT totally take over two to three months every few years.

That’s right…You Are NOT Christmas ;)

Stick to the issues. Yes, if you know something about The Other Guy that s/he is hiding and I should know and you can PROVE it by all means throw it out there. If you can’t…shut the hell up. Think before you speak.

Here in the Great State of Connecticut we get to vote for another Governor in November. I have my choice between these two moro—Shining Examples of Civil Price….ahhh…Pride. (Yeah, that’s the ticket. Shining Examples of Civil Pride….anybody know how to do the Heimlich maneuver? I’m about to choke to death. Help!)

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Tom Foley and Dannel Malloy

****SIDE NOTE PLEASE SKIP IF YOU’RE A REPUBLICAN…There’s another EXACT photo as the above but there’s a suspicious sprawl of…red lines…on Tom Foley’s nose. I tried to find it today and it’s gone! I Googled “Malloy vs Foley” YESTERDAY for the work website and it popped on Google’s front page. I was kind. I saw it, went ‘whoa’ and refused to use it because I thought it might be a little prejudicial, no joke there. None. Today…poof….gone. Just sayin’. That’s all. Just sayin’. ****END SIDE NOTE.

To be totally honest with you I can’t stand either one of these snide little pricks. I hate them both almost equally but I’m an American so it’s the 51% that wins out and will force me to fill in a little circle for Governor Malloy. Yes, I’m being “taxed to death”…I realize that, truly I DO! BUT it’s better than becoming Foley’s Indentured Servant. Not to mention the last two Governors we had (both Republicans) one of which I often to referred to here to ‘Nazi Grandma Rell’ and the other was just convicted.

Oh bother.

Yep such is life here in The Nutmeg State. Whoo-hoo.

Lucky me.

Then there’s that, ya know, Fundamental Difference between (going by the actual definitions the words here and NOT the hysteria/false information/total bullshit out there) ‘Conservative’ and ‘Liberal’. Look them up if you don’t know the dictionary definitions I don’t have time for a Vocab Lesson.

I’m ‘Liberal’. I am. But you knew that already, didn’t you?

Now to the Cats part of our little post.

Monday I went outside for a smoke at work. I was standing there having my Kool when I looked down and looked twice and then looked closer. Sure enough there was a kitten laying in the tall grass just at the corner of the property. Behind my place of work there is a very small wooded patch that often attracts stray mother cats and often I can see kittens. I didn’t see any last year except Little Maggie who was quite a bit older than this white kitten with patches of gray on its back. The year before there was at least six of them all long haired tigers. They were freakin’ gorgeous! I wanted one but one day they just disappeared…poof.

I called for the little kitten and it looked at me but eventually ran off. (I have a tendency to rush the whole You Can Trust Me thing.) It hung around on the very tiny slope of the very tiny wooded patch and ventured into the patch after it but the kitten found a good hiding place.

It rained hard last night.

Today I brought a can of tuna to work and scooped a little into a dish that I put near the steps. I soon realized I needed to put it closer to the wooded patch so I did and then I went about my work. On my second smoke the kitten was back and devouring the tuna. I gave it the remainder of the half & half in the fridge. It drank all of it and hung around within sight of the back door but not close to it for the rest of the day at the end of which I moved the dish to the short grass by the picnic table but not too close and I gave it the rest of the tuna.

I will bring another can to work tomorrow and put it a bit closer to the door. I’ll do the same on Friday. I may even do it on Saturday so the poor thing doesn’t think I’ve abandoned it. I’ll do this until the kitten trusts me enough to let me pet it, pick it up and bring it home where it will have a very nice and loving life. I will do this even though right now there is a black male kitten at the Animal Shelter waiting for adoption and I really want it. I will do this even in spite of the fact that I have two cats already. One of which, Miss Luna, has finally decided that we’re OK and will now let us pet her and she wants to sleep with us.

Why would I do this when others would just see a stray, turn it aside, and maybe even consider it ‘ok’ to ‘put it out of its misery’? After all, it’s just another unwanted creature.

Because that kitten, that stray, has absolutely no one. Not a single soul in this world. Not even an Animal Control Officer to offer it food, comfort, and love. No one to help it see a better way, a better day, a better life, and to ease its fears letting it know that despite everything its been through it can all work out just fine.

But it takes ME to do that for another living creature and it takes you too.

All of my life my mother accused me of ‘taking in strays’. ALL of my life. Every stray cat/kitten, dog, bird (usually wild and wounded), and/or person that ever came along showing signs of being a misfit/damaged/in need of help I attempted to, well, adopt in my own way. As far as she was concerned I was often a “bum magnet”. I still am.

Although once in a great while I have been burned/bitten by said strays and bums, on the whole I’ve been rewarded by them in the end. A cat that loves a lifetime. A wild bird that flies off capable under its own power, a puppy whose master I found, or a person I helped to see was more than the sum of their banged up parts.

No, not exactly the riches of the wealthy yet still better. More satisfying than any yacht or vacation home or millions stashed away in a tax free off-shore account earning tax free interest.

If that means I have to pay more in taxes to help those who need it because others are greedy and can see only what benefits them rather than knowing how to share and to do what’s right for the whole and not just what’s best for themselves…then that’s what it means.

I can’t change that fact. All I can is live with it and, in so doing, live the best most soul enriching life that I can.

So I’ll vote for Malloy and hope for the best but not too hard.

I’ll keep feeding that poor lonely kitten until it trusts me enough to let me take it home, shower it with love, and give it a whole new life.

Pooh-Bah’s Big Adventure


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Well I did it!

So maybe I should have titled this “There and Back Again A Pooh-Bah’s Tale”…LOL (LOTR anyone? No? Sorry.)

We left about 9:00 this morning after I changed outfits several times. I didn’t want to look like one of those pretentious authors and I’m really just a Blue Jean Baby (No LA Lady) so I wore my comfy jeans and a nice top. I found a pair of boots Miss Nicole gave me years ago but I never wore. They were comfy today for some reason so I put those on. We packed up, went to Enterprise Rent A Car where some customer was an absolute dick. We suffered through him, we made fun of him quietly, and when the rental service guy was finally able to show us to our car we sympathized with him. Then we were off.

Sort of.

First, riding a nearly brand new car is really nice. I had no idea. My parents never bought new cars so this was my first time. I might be able to see why people buy them but, hey, for about $70.00 including gas I don’t mind renting for a day or two. It was the first time for that too. All kinds of ‘firsts’ today. :)

We packed it up we took off and stopped on Dunkin’ Donuts in Norwich for coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Forgot to tell the GPS and it kept saying ‘recalculating’ for a while. But The was good because it was there that I remembered I needed to bring money for change with me. Get coffee and sandwiches, head down the road to the nearest branch of our bank, and the GPS keeps saying ‘recalculating’. Go in the bank get change, eat, drink, and get back on the road.

We started down the highway when hubby suddenly realized that for reasons unknown the GPS was directing us back home. Personally I think it was pissed off at us at all of the ‘recalcuating’ it had to do and decided we were too dumb to be on the road so it should send us home. LOL

Put the DCU address in again and head back in the right direction.

All was well straight into Worcester. The second we got off the highway there was a HUGE traffic jam. We couldn’t understand it. Oh, yes, and let me tell you Massachusetts drivers have definitely earned their nickname. I’ve never come across such a clusterfuck of asshole drivers in my life! You have no idea how happy I was at the end of the day to see Welcome to Connecticut! Anyway, it turns out there was some roadrace or which nearly all of the cross streets in downtown Worcester were closed off.

WTF?

We have roadraces. Nobody closes a street for them we just put cops at the major intersections to stop traffic at needed intervals.

We drove around and around as the damn GPS kept ‘recalculating’ until finally hubby drove down an alley and through a parking lot to a ‘closed’ side street and down to the DCU Center

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That’s where we sat for a while waiting for them to remove the traffic cones!

Oh bother.

I wanted to get there between 11:00 and 11:15 and we did but we couldn’t get to the place. It was maddening! While I never like to be the first to arrive, I believe I was the last author to arrive but I got there! That’s the important part.

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I checked in and got my badge

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When he parked the car and came up to the event hubby got a badge too

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It took a while to set up my table but I got it. A few nice ladies rushed over to help me. I was surprised and welcomed their kindness with open arms. But I tell you, if I ever do another of these events I’ll pay extra for an 8 foot table. Compared to some of the others who were there each with their own nice table I have more books and they’re larger. I only brought a few copies of the books in the OF WAR series and 4 copies of “Eminent Domain”. Can you imagine what it would be if I brought copies of all the books? Yeah. I think I need more space. I was unable to use the sword hubby didn’t want to get arrested walking around with a sword in downtown Worcester. I can’t say that I blame him.

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I sat there for a while and then people started coming up to me. I remembered to smile, say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ as they perused my table. They asked about my books. I explained about them as best as I could in a few sentences that ended with something like “and all those crazy Olympians who don’t like anyone.” Those liked mythology laughed and those who didn’t know about were intrigued to understand my books are not ‘paranormal’ because they have vampires/werewolves/zombies/shifters. They’re ‘paranormal’ because of the Gods.

They bought my books. :)

I had to buy WiFi and run credit cards. Oh that was fun! Yes it was. And easy too! Very easy. I like it. :) They paid cash as well. Good thing I stopped at the bank. They took rack cards and business cards. They bought a few ebooks. They entered the raffle. I signed more tote bags than anything I’ve ever signed before. NEWS gave tote bags as gifts to everyone who came and to the authors along with a pen. The authors sent their assistants around to get the other authors signatures.

You probably already guessed….my NEWS tote is blank.

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I wasn’t sending hubby around for that. However, he is quite the huckster. Every time someone came up he’d ask if they wanted to enter the raffle to win my wonderful basket and what a great writer I am. He was wonderful the whole day. Poor guy. At least I don’t think he was bored the event did move at a rather quick pace for the first two hours. But, as I figured, as soon as the raffles were drawn people started making their way to the door. Oh well.

I had the pleasure of meeting one of those rare creatures a reader-turned-friend. I have 4 of them. Up until yesterday, I’d only met one of them (Hi Karen!) so that was a special treat when Donna came in.

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It was my birthday and she was thoughtful enough to bring me presents; a nice bottle of wine and

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She started to explain why she was giving me that particular piece but she didn’t have to. I nearly broke down in tears looking at my little Charlie staring at the moon as though he’s waiting for me to come home or watching over me. I’m getting misty just thinking about it. Thank you, Donna! It was wonderful to meet you!!!

Amazingly enough, at the end of the day, I’d sold 4 copies of “The Heart of War”, 6 ebooks, and a copy of “Eminent Domain”. How do you like that? LOL I did come with a bunch of books but the good thing about that is now I can send out those signed copies of “Kingdoms” people have been waiting on and I’ve been putting off as I invested money in this. I have those copies in-hand so I’ll be able to get them out soon. AND I’ll actually be able to keep nearly a full set of my series. I never have any of my books on ye olde bookshelves I’m always getting and sending them out and when I don’t have them to send I take the copy I swear I’m keeping for myself and send it out. I’m pretty sure I lost two Copyright Certificates that way. Total bummer. But I did learn not to keep them in the books anymore so I guess that’s good. :)

By the end of the day I’d signed so many things I’d pretty much forgotten how to write my own name (I’m always dropping the ‘s’ to begin with. I don’t know why my hand skips over it nearly every time.) it was just this scrawling thing that’s even worse than my usual chicken scratch. Today my hand is a bit sore.

Around 3:30 or so we started packing up and making for the trip home. It poured like hell on the way. In some spots you couldn’t even see out of the windshield no matter how fast the really nice wipers were going. We came home happily exhausted, hauled the stuff inside, and pigged out on our grinders before heading up to bed to stretch out for the night.

All-in-all, I don’t think I could have asked for a better 48th birthday. It was a long strange trip, indeed, but it was much fun and I’m glad that I didn’t miss the experience.

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