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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Wild Baby Beast


Today my friend Polly rescued a cute little feral kitten from blindness. Poor little mite has probably been abandoned by its mother. First thing we saw was this little thing staggering out of the shed door at the end of our patio -- it was mewing away and very wobbly on its legs. Polly went over to have a look and realized its eyes were not open -- lots of muck sealing them shut.

Every summer we find wild cats somewhere on our place. Most often they find a way into the loft/attic space above the ceiling in the bedrooms. We are happy to let them have this space as it keeps other varmints, namely mice, at bay. The thing is though that we are careful not to 'befriend' them in any way as it doesn't help them when it comes to surviving when we leave -- its a matter of peaceful, non-interfering, co-existance!

But we, and especially Polly, could not watch the poor little mite suffer and had to come to the rescue. So Neil got a pail of warm water and with some QTips/cotton buds and soft cotton make-up removal pads she patiently and carefully cleared the little eyes of the muck. Her husband, Chris, pointed out that now there is the possibility that the creature, having had Polly as her first sight/vision(!) consider her to be 'Mom/Mum'!

So now we are in St. Cere and rather hoping that while we are gone Mother Cat will return to find a 'miracle' cure and the family unit will be restored ...

Update: Upon our return home we found the kitten had disappeared -- not to have been seen since -- however, we do believe we can hear what sound possibly like a family of cats up in the mystery regions of the house!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The Old Age Adage --- Bah! Humbug!

Yesterday for the first time really, I could see myself as an 'old lady'. It was a brief reflection in the wing mirror of the car -- and it came as a shock. It brought to mind a long ago memory of early teen-age years with my best friend, Roberta. We lived in a part of Torrington, Connecticut, called Burrville and our houses were separated by a 'walk in the woods'. We were part of a team of 4 friends, but because we lived so close together spent more time with each other than with the other two. Her family had lived in Burrville for generations and she would take me from time to time to play Canasta with her 'Grandma'.

Grandma was quite a formidable lady, I believe and I thought of her as being well dressed, well coifed and always manicured. I remember quite clearly how well groomed her hands were -- one would playing cards after all. I also remember that I considered her to be rather an 'old lady', albeit a 'grande dame with plenty of style.' -- in the order of my own grandmother -- although my friend's grandmother was much more well-turned out than mine -- I now refer in particular to my paternal grandmother. My maternal grandmother was another story altogether.

So why was I thinking of this woman? I believe she was 65 when I met her and I am now that same age. Kind of puts things into an awful perspective. Last night I had terrible heartburn and wondered if I was having a heartburn or a heart attack. And worried about the fact I've not yet made a will and on and on the thoughts that haunt in the middle of the night. Bah! Humbug!