now that i’ve given you the download on my tail, i’d like to continue by describing my color.  i’m mostly black, with white neck, paws, tummy and whiskers, and i have an angel’s kiss of white on my nose.  this kind of coloring is called “tuxedo,” and the implication is that cats of this nature appear to be wearing a tux, which calls for comparison between cats and a man in a fancy-pants evening suit.  the interesting thing is that when dressed in said FPES, the man looks like a penguin.  so why the heck aren’t cats who are mostly black with white on their necks, paws and tummy called PENGUIN cats instead of TUXEDOS?  personally, i would much prefer that my coloring be named for the noble denizen of the antarctic rather than for a man immitating a penguin.  but that’s just me.   did i mention that my white eyebrows are straight above my right eye and curly above my left?  i’m so handsome i can hardly stand myself.  purr, y’all.

juliet asks this very question in act 2 scene 2 of romeo and juliet.  “what’s in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”  she’s referring to romeo, of course, and futzing over his last name, which, being montague, is a problem since her people and his people hate each other.  it’s a good question, though.  what is in a name?

i go by bob because that’s what i was named when i became a pet.  the person who brought me in noticed that i am a cat of little tail, and she thought bob would suit me.  before i came in from the wild, some of the humans who saw me around the neighborhood called me stumpy.  now i ask you, was that necessary?   the fact is i am not tailless.  i have a perfectly serviceable tail; it just happens to be shorter than most.  it  twitches when i see something that needs chasing, and it is quite pert when i am happy.  it also gives fair warning when i’m in a snit.  my tail performs all the functions of a proper tail, and it does so in a fraction of the time that a lengthy tail requires.

so yeah, i’m bob, and yeah, my very fine tail makes me different.  but here’s the thing:  there’s nothing wrong with different. nothing at all.  Purr, y’all.

 

 

 

 

the day after halloween is not merely the day to wish you hadn’t eaten all that candy last night.  it’s also all saint’s day.  this makes sense if you consider that halloween comes from the words “all hallow’s eve” which means the day before the day that the saints are remembered.  but who or what is a saint?  is it one who has died and attained a shiny crown in heaven?  or is it a living being who believes in the practice of kindness?

my mother birthed the litter of which i was part in a leafy nest in an urban wood.  she did without food so she could curl around us in our first days.  when she needed to hunt, she left us woozy on milk and covered in leaves to keep us quiet and hidden.  she taught us the importance of touch and play and sitting still in the sun.  she taught us that when we relieved ourselves, we should do so outside the nest and away from our food.  she taught respect for life–our own and other’s–and through her love, she taught me to live well and always, ALWAYS, find the lap that most needs catting.

today is for the saints; cats, dogs, birds, humans, who give their hearts and teach us love. purr, y’all.

i sat down with the new york times, and by ‘sat down with’ i mean sat down on, since that’s what i do; i sit on stuff.  i suppose you could say that i “occupy,” sort of like “occupy wall street” only with less conviction and more fur.  so i occupied the paper and learned three important things:

1.    russian will not be taught in american schools
2.    there is a shocking shortage of butter in france (could this be related to election           hacking?  are french cows compromised in a putinesque plot?)
3.    occupying the new york times results in a newsprinted butt.

surely they know i can see them.  they’re out there at the feeder like a traveling basketball team at a roadside buffet.  finches, robins, towhees, jays; every one of them calling my name.  god, they’re stupid.  the only thing between us is this window, which everyone knows i can pass through with one touch of my paw on the glass.  when I’m on the other side, i’ll explain to them that when tempted, fate will usually respond.  i’ll help them understand that though they’re fast on the wing, at least one will not be faster than me.  it’s the science of things they’re missing, so it falls to me to teach them.  later.  after a nap.

Bob, here.  Not many of my kind blog.  It may be that it’s hard for us to find a laptop that is open, or it may be that the desktop mouse is a distraction.  Not so for me.  I can write whenever the mood strikes, and until now, it hadn’t, but now that it has, you’ll hear from me often.  I have thoughts on a lot of things that are important; rabbits, laps, the state of the world. These are the stuff I’ll be sharing with you, and my hope is that we will all take a moment to be still and purr.