HAW and HNY and Ho Ho Ho

Happy Animal Wednesday, Happy New Year and Ho Ho ha hahh haaaaaaaaaaaaa. I forgot all about what I was going to tell you because the METER READER came this morning and I had to yell at the Slims to shut up until I nearly lost my MIND. Seeds and Sagebrush. The noise. The foolishness. The mayhem.....ho ho haaaa haaaaa haaaaa-I do so love it when the Slims get upset.

One of the Slims has a name like I do. I am Oliver, and the white Slim is Prissy. Now that I've realized she is a sentient being, I've been practicing her name. We've even sat in the same chair a few times to watch the blue screen on the wall. It's boggling, this concept-a Slim with a name.

I've learned another thing too-some of the things I eat have names. My favorite is the crap-you know, those little fruit balls that grow in clumps. For some reason, every time I say "crap", my human servant laughs. She's funny that way.

HAW! (I'm so glad I got to take over Animal Wednesday), everyone needs a voice.

Just going to do it

All these things I want to do need to do should do shouldn't do. I really can't unsort it all. So I'm going to pick one.

I'm working on *gasp* a Children's Book about how to Meet a Dog. I just posted a really ugly rant on a forum for really ugly rants about people letting their kids maul dogs in public, and as partial penance for my ugliness (i am not taking down the rant) I will create a short book, complete with illustrations that will not turn off little boys.

I've been joking about doing it for a year, I can't tackle anything any bigger than that, but I think I will enjoy it. Sadly, I cannot use any of my lengthy rant because it was liberally speckled with four letter words.

I was originally going to point it towards parents, but parents are adults and are much harder to teach than kids and I don't have the patience for that.

A New Door Opens

I've been holding off blogging about this because I didn't want anything else going on in my life to color this -the announcement I've waited my entire conscious life for. Casper is mine.

One day a couple of weeks ago I blogged about how my life was working, yadda, yadda, I enjoyed my riding but lessons were enough (I deleted that) and I was convincing myself yet again not to have my own horse. Then someone gave me a horse. And not just any horse-this horse.

Now, I'm not being subjective when I say that anyone can see at one glance what an absolute dream of a horse he is. LOOK at this horse!!! Look at those eyes. Look at the color. A non-horse lover would want this horse.

Due to some family illnesses, he's been a pasture ornament for a few years, and when he gets the notion, he breaks out and comes into the front yard for pets and carrots. He LIKES to be fussed over, have his mane brushed and baths, etc. I would love him even if he was an ugly horse, but he's not-he's drop dead gorgeous.

Shelly and Kim Harris are angels. They did for me what I couldn't or wouldn't do for myself. They gave me a wonderful horse, and now it's up to me to take this gift and make the most of it.

Casper is going to my riding instructor for a tune up-then we'll work together with the instructor to become a team. He's almost identical in size and build to Bailey-the lesson horse, so moving over to Casper will not be as much of a stretch. Even his name is special-the "horse that got away" in my youth-her name was Spook. Don't you just love it when something happens and you KNOW it's ok to say "yes?"

I'm not telling my folks until after Casper has his tune up and we are working together. Part of this is that I don't want any raining on my parade, and part of it is that I hope to work with the trainer on the process-to learn to train as well as ride (within my abilities). I want to give Mom time to heal before I give her something else to worry about.

I'm going to trade my travel trailer for a horse trailer with small living quarters-it looks like there'll be one more going on the road for any adventures, and I couldn't be happier about that.

Another Nice Day

My best buddy Moon and I went for a long drive, played in several parks on different surfaces and textures (cement, rubber, plastic, metal, wood) and climbed on logs, bleachers, etc. We shared an Arby's lunch and went to the bird store to select the mansion for our new friends. We ended up with one that will hold about 40, but we are still only getting 4-I just want them to be comfortable and be able to flap around and get some space to themselves if they want.

Moon got a new collar and a new harness. We went to harness up for a bike ride and his old harness was like 2 inches too small-he's growing into a big boy.

My mind seems desperate to hold on to his relaxed feeling, so I'm just going with the flow. Moon didn't even realize we were having a training session-he just thought we were out for a nice long drive....and so we were.

Christmas

Had a nice quiet dinner at Mom and Dad's, we were all on good behavior and grateful for the quiet. It's a nice day outside, so Moon and I went first to the duck pond to feed the ducks, and wound up taking a nap in the field next to the duck pond. A fellow walking his lab approached and woke us up-I think he was afraid I was a dismal holiday overdose or something-the truth was, I was enjoying the grass and the sky and the sun.

HAW-YOU Decide

I have attempted to help my human be more tidy. I helped her the other day by flying over to a drawer she left open and shredding and sampling the contents and that wretched woman dared to say "shoo" to me! Beaks and Feathers! "Shoo?????" Who says "shoo"? Apparently people who leave their kitchen drawers open where I can see them, that's who.

You tell me-is she an ungrateful creature or what? I punished her by clicking my beak when I saw her...and drove her crazy by hopping over to her and saying "huh?" when she was saying nothing at all......ooooooooh yesssssss, that's just so funny. I could do that all day. She's like Pavlov's freakin dog-I say "huh?" and she's compelled to look at me.....heheheheheeeeeee.

Many of my adoring fans have sent me bags and bags of toilet paper rolls, my favorite shredding item. All the snakes are now too big for them, so I no longer have to "share". Birds don't share well.

My human and I are taking in some creatures for "Christmas". A few weeks ago, someone left a box of about 150 parakeets on the side of the road-the night the first freeze came in. About 100 made it. The rescue society wants them to go in groups-which means they will not be finger pets-but I think, and my human thinks, that I will enjoy watching them in a flight cage. So, we decided to take a few in. I've known parakeets before, I already make a perfect "keet" song and actually I'm looking forward to having more of my own kind around here. (As long as they stay in their own cage, never go in my kitchen or take too much attention away from me).

We'll take three or four of the ones least likely to be chosen-won't they be excited when they come home and see that they have a new, big cage and a supreme Grey Being to worship? Oh, Nuts and Berries, they will be amazed when they get a load of ME.....aaaaaaaahahhhaaaaaa.

Next summer, they'll move out to the aviary on the front of the house and we'll move my sleeping cage over by THAT window so I can continue my tutelage of them. Yeah, it's cool to live with a crackpot who screens in flower beds-hahahahhaaaaaa. I may just forgive her for saying "shoo" to me.

Here's a big Christmas Eve/Animal Wednesday kiss for you all......HAW and mwwwwwaaaah!

Succulent Cactus Monday!

It's most mandela-like, isn't it?

This has little to do with CM, but I've got a doctor's appointment this morning and I've had the flu, so there has been some puking. I really hope she'll adopt a let's wait and see attitude and not remove any fluid from my lap band. It's really been a tough few weeks and I think my eating issues have more to do with lots of snot and runoff due first to crying then to a cold....then the stomach flu hit. Ok, not eating issues, puking issues.

I really think this fill can be salvaged with a little extra liquids, mushy food and some band babying for a few more days, but I will do what the doctor says.

Peek A Boo

HAW....ahhhhhh hahhahahhaaaaaaaaaaaa

Apparently my human servant has her limits.  I was cross with her, and bit her on the head a few times and just generally informed her that the kitchen belonged to me and I did not appreciate her allowing the Slims to hang out with us.....and she very politely took me to the back room until I settled down a bit.

Of course, her energy has been low lately, and when one's energy is low, someone else with higher energy must fill the void.  But I must have gotten carried away with the void filling.

In addition to the Slims being fed and pampered in MY kitchen, she bought these pellet things and has cut back on my seeds and such.  Nuts and Berries!  Who eats pellets?  I went on a hunger strike, I did. and no one cared.  She has even cut back on my peanuts and pignolias.  What's next, Grape rationing?  Sakes alive, it's no wonder I was cross.

When I'm cross I stomp around and click my beak-it goes SNAP SNAP-a fierce display indeed.  I bet you'd shiver in your own feathers if you saw it.

There it is, my true confession-I'm not a saint, but neither are you and we're still friends.....hahhahhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa    oooooooooooooooooooooh-I'm such a funny bird!   HAW y'all.......love, Oliver the parrot

The Boogy Man Rule

I selected only one item to pack away with Uncle John-his favorite glasses, with little plastic case and the veteran's admin label on it.  It didn't seem to matter that the prescription was wrong because I'm sure it will all work out in the afterlife.  John actually didn't want any of his possessions from his apartment (or so he said) and I was never sure if that is someone who is trying to let go or has really let go.  But it was probably something of both.

I wanted to leave something of me too, but I didn't want to be an eternal tag along, so I finally just said a few words into the glasses case and shut the case.  It seemed a very nice way of balancing my need for symbolism and his need for simplicity.

I showed up early Monday morning with his glasses-he was still on his cot in the room where he was waiting for his casket, so I sat outside in the lobby and drank some coffee.  It was important to me to not be late for this final task.  

I finally agreed not to go to the cemetery because Mom wouldn't agree to let me go alone and I didn't want her out in the below zero wind chill.  So I delivered the glasses, made a final ID, and was the only family member who ever saw the casket or Uncle John in it.  This last part was by design-he didn't want to be remembered as he was in the past few weeks.  

I will work out how to incorporate what I saw in such a way as to express it without betraying his privacy or trust, but that is for another time.  I've never so closely shared an extended illness or death before-and that experience is now a cherished part of me. 

Sometimes I get a little scared or frustrated at how my life is changing yet again, but I would not, if I could, go back and change my decision to walk this walk with my Uncle.  I think I am more of a human being than I have ever been because of the past few years.

I want to finish this post on a positive note because while the sadness is still with me, I know, beyond any doubt, the good outweighs the bad.  Don't be afraid of old age or illness or death-the boogy man in our minds is so much bigger than the reality of it.  The boogy man part is truly insignificant compared to the total experience, which follows the boogy man rule in general.

As I sit now, trying to decide on a new future, I am going to try and remember that boogy man rule.

Cactus and Cold

This is not art, but a cactus related thought.  It is minus degrees in Western Oklahoma today-and there are cacti there-and there will be cacti there next summer when its hot.  I never really thought about cactus and the cold before.  Extreme heat AND extreme cold-the noble cactus really IS a survivor.

HCM

The Ice Man Cometh

I'm going to my riding lesson and then prepare for the ice storm that is supposed to hit in waves beginning tomorrow.  I'm still not really abounding with energy, but that will be no comfort at all if the electricity gets blown out again and there is no food or heat in the house.

My first executive decision of the day will be to buy TWO small generators rather than one big whole house one.  I want Mom and Dad warm and cozy in their own house and me in mine.  Mom can't even hear the word "snake" without a bunch of shuddering and shivering-I don't know how much of it is for show and how much is for real, and I don't care at this point-she just needs to stay warm and safe at her own house and leave me to my snakes, birds and dogs.

Today will be to batten down the hatches, then tomorrow I have to go find something to wear to Uncle John's ceremony.  I really pray that Mom and Lee decide not to go-and that is very selfish on my part-but I need to focus on the drive and the task, not comforting them, and having passengers in the car just adds a whole new level of difficulty to an already difficult situation.  If the weather is too bad, I won't go either, and they are probably praying for enough ice to make the point moot.

So, now I've gathered my thoughts about what I want to happen, and I will go forth and see and deal with what actually DOES happen.

Fuel on Zero

I must have exhausted all my nervous energy at last-today I can barely lift my fingers to type.  I think this is normal thing, but I hope it doesn't last long.

Road Trip

I made up an excuse to head to Dallas-I really just wanted to be out on the road.  Prissy road shotgun-she and I have never gone solo before.  She was a little wild at first, but when it was clear that she'd get no attention for acting like a goose, she settled down.  She came over, laid down next to me, and just like Dottie used to do-she pressed her little nose hard into my leg.  I almost stopped breathing for a minute, without warning the missing of Dottie hit me like a physical force.

It happened when I was in with John too-in the midst of grieving for him, I remembered Dottie's first visit to the nursing home in California, and had a spasm of grief on grief.

I am pretty sure some of my favorite angels are near these days, and that's why I'm reacting so, and I'm glad they are here, even if it hurts for a moment too.

I thought how alike Priss and I are-the eternal children.  Prissy is no more a baby dog than I am-but she's always been "little Dottie", and I have perhaps stood back from her since Dottie died and that isn't fair.  She was really proud and happy to be the dog riding shotgun, just as I was proud and happy to be the person who took care of John.

As always, I enjoyed driving over the Arbuckle mountains.  Once a range the size of the Rockies, the Arbuckles are now more like hills-but their raw bones break the surface of the earth.  I always marvel that the rock face I am looking at was once buried deep within a huge mountain-truly the skeletal system is all that remains.  When I pass by, I mentally lay my cheek against the cool stone and feel as if I'm touching the soul of the ancient mountain.

It was nice to rest my heart on mother earth and feel the road pass under my wheels.  It's easier for me to touch the timeless and nameless when I am flying over the ground and I am grateful for the chance.

Death Cookies and Oprah

Don't want to step on Oliver's glory, but this is kind of funny/sad.  I went to funeral home this morning to make arrangements.  I've got a bit of a stomach thing, so I didn't eat beforehand and after two hours of arrangements and coffin selection, I was hungry.  Thirty minutes later, I was shaky hungry.

Resthaven had several silver trays with home made cookies out, and when I first saw them I thought "who would eat Death Cookies"....and now I knew.  

But here's the thing-I never eat in hospitals, and only in nursing homes when it's to share a meal with a loved one, and I've never been in a funeral home before for any length of time.  Factor in the dead Christmas trees in all the stores making my sinus go haywire, the dry arctic air and a certain amount of upset over the entire gloomy situation-and I wasn't sure that cookie would go down or stay down.

Then I remembered Oprah's show yesterday with OCD people who had the same kinds of issues, only worse, and how the doctor had encouraged them to eat things and hold it down-so I did the same thing and choked down a Death Cookie-the smallest (about 2 inches across) I could find.  The sugar helped and I was able to complete arrangements without puking or otherwise causing a scene by passing out.  Thanks O and Dr. Oz!

Ok, other bizarre (to me) things.  First, I know my family background is informal and I don't want to offend anyone-these things are personal and private and handled for each family differently.  That said, I found the "Funeral and Thank You Note Organizer" just a bit weird.

It is a little notebook and inside the notebook are pages to track who came to the service, who brought food and NUMBERED STICKIES to place on the food so you could cross reference it to the listing page later and thank Auntie Em for the Green Bean Casserole.  I solemnly listened to my instructions and thanked the director, but I know the look on my face said "this is the dumbest thing I've ever heard of", and I wonder if it isn't some sort of southern US thing.  We probably keep the Thank You Notes afloat-eventually we'll be sending Thank You for Thank You notes to people.

Now, the Food Thing in general is, well, odd. Casseroles are the typical southern funeral food.  And for a big family, especially one that has just lost the main cook, it might be a thoughtful and good idea.  But, personally, if I am too distraught to cook, I just roll on down to Taco Bell.  And while all the socializing, keeping busy, etc. is said to be healing, wolfing down huge amounts of fat and sugar isn't going to be good for the living.

Picking out the coffin required some time.  On one hand, I knew Uncle John was beyond caring and that all the pressure was in my mind, but on the other hand, I very much wanted to get it right-so that I could report on it to the rest of family and they would draw some peace from knowing he was eternally housed in the correct box.  I prefer wood, but instantly I knew when I saw it, he would want Carbon Steel if he could choose, and I was able to find a Military designed, Carbon Steel, blue, with blue interior.  Blue was his favorite color, and even though there will be no pictures or any evidence of it, I will know he was laid out in suitable Military fashion and according to his design sensibilities (not mine).  And yes, that gave me some comfort.  Better still, it was in his preferred price range, not bottom of the line, not top, firmly in the middle so I don't have to worry about him fuming about it in the afterlife.

Because he is getting a Military Funeral in a National Cemetery, many of the other details are pre-ordained, and that, combined with Oklahoma Laws, are a bit odd.  For instance, embalming is not required, and I am pleased, because I really don't want to pollute the earth with my Uncle John's remains full of formaldehyde.  BUT, the Military provides and insists upon a Vault, as do most other townships and there is no way around it but to go find private land, get permits and yadda yadda.  So, the best we can do is just not do any great damage to the water table.  I finally defaulted to his only instructions "the Military will handle it" and so they will.

It is possible to get memorial jewelry to hold cremains.  Ok, I can almost cope with that.  The "Thumbies" absolutely creeped me out beyond belief.  A gold, silver or white gold replica of the deceased actual thumbprint.  I stared at them, went back, stared again, and came up with the same conclusion-creep city.  Thinking about it now-still creeping me out......ewwwwww.

I will share some information that may or may not help someone.   I asked the funeral director about protocol-when they are preparing and cleaning the remains, does someone look for signs of abuse, etc.?  I told him I was unclear about what to do at the time he died-he was under a blanket, and I held his arm, but I really really did not want to do an inspection, and I didn't know if I was supposed to.  Turns out, that's the job of the medical and funeral attendants so there is no peeking required.  I'm glad I asked, and it was troubling me so now I can report to the family that it has all be handled properly.  (In no way did I suspect abuse, but without a visual verification who would know?)  This paragraph clearly belongs under the heading weird items, but there you have it.

HAW HAW HAW

My human has been quiet the past few days and I am left to brighten the air with sound.  She did rouse herself to call and cackle a bit with me this evening. 

 It's been frightfully cold and dreary outside, and being left to my own devices by the gloomy human, I've perfected my cabinet door opening abilities.  She does manage to rouse herself from her funky thoughts when I swing the cabinet door open and begin rummaging through the contents.  Rattling the wine bottles is sure to get her  running in.

She did boil some navy beans just for me-I've been snacking on them and grapes, trying to improve my waistline a bit.  I've been hitting the pignolias a little too hard lately....well, that and the whipped cream and the cheese.....yeah, time for a little holistic intervention or I'll be too fat to fly.

This picture has nothing to do with any of that-it's one taken this summer of the small Slim they call Prissy.  Since it's been cold, Prissy has joined me in the kitchen on some days-she's about as much fun as a gloomy human-she sniffs on the floor and ignores me unless I throw something on her stupid head.  I like it when she barks cause then I can tell her to "shaddup!", but if she won't bark I just yell at her to shaddup anyway.  Why should I depend on her cooperation for MY amusement?

For some reason the gloomy human decided I should say "Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas"....and I had a delightful time pretending that I was going to do it....I'd say Haaaaaa   Haaaaaaa FAAAAART!!!!!!  She'd brighten up get all hopeful looking at the first Haaaa-then BAM, I'd let her have it.  Hey, a bird has to do what he can to keep himself amused.

Since she's been so quiet, I've been walking over to her and going "Huh?" as if she's said something I didn't quite hear-it confuses the hell out of her.......heh heh heh heh heh......Like I said, a bird has to do, what a bird has to do.

HAW HAW HAW........(FAAAAAART) to you all!  (fooled you didn't I?)

A Cold Windy Day with Snow on the Way

Today is OK.  Temps dropping, the wind is howling and maybe some snow.  Typical Okla. winter.  The wind storms of the past week are probably a blessing in disguise, they'll knock down any loose limbs that they ice storms of last year didn't get.

Between the wind and the sadness, I didn't sleep a whole lot last night, and I really didn't try very hard.  Sleep will come again, it always does, and fighting to sleep when you can't sleep just makes a person miserable.

The hospice chaplain called promptly at 9 this morning-I am sure designed to make sure I was up and moving and facing the day and my grief.  I was awake and arguing with myself about whether or not the dogs really needed to go out yet.  Oliver was cooing softly to himself, he doesn't crank up big time till the covers come off his sleeping cage.

Oliver was somewhat subdued yesterday because I was, however, he doesn't have a lot of time or patience for grieving people, and one quiet day is all he can manage.   I welcome his noise-he's so alive on this gloomy grey day.

John's death was so awfully slow, that a lot of the true grieving has been done already.  I've grieved daily for the past year, and in the past few months have agonized over every decision.  When he gave in and was ready to go a few weeks ago, I tried to go along with it.   I amended my prayer from "please don't go" to "I understand if you need to go"...but I never could get to the hearty "run free, go with joy" phase.  I'm imperfect, but at least I felt guilty for not being completely willing to let him go, for all the good it does.  His dying is his, not mine.

I thought about the antibiotic decision, and I'm not going to second guess it.  It gave him another week, but it gave ME the peace of knowing he went because it was time, not because I with held something that could have saved him.  When I was speaking to him after he died, I wondered if I should apologize for keeping him here, but I realized immediately that the John I loved would not have wanted to burden me with the extra guilt of deciding to let him die.

Ironically, once dead, you have to get in line.  He's at the funeral home, but the first appointment to make final arrangements isn't until tomorrow.  A lot of people go right after a major holiday, so this isn't unusual and I'm not upset.  I really think it's just, well, funny.  

The military burial is even stranger still.  They will call Fort Sill, and the cemetery will give him a time to report for his final duty-and he'd better be there spot on, ready to go into the ground.  I know this would seem right to Uncle John, but to me it is very bizarre, and fortunately for everyone I will not be driving the hearse.

Hearse.  Funeral car-such strange terms.  Service.  I service my car, a stallion services a mare....funeral service?  There isn't going to be one.  John didn't go to church, the two aunts (my Mom and her sister) are old and before John got sick he hadn't been back to Oklahoma in 20 years or more.  So, who would come?  No viewings, no open caskets.  He had no opinion on it, and my opinion is shared by the rest of the family-it's not a comfort.  In fact, we, the living, are pretty appalled at the thought of someone staring at us when we are dead.

We, the living.  Apparently there are two kinds of us in the family now, the living and the dead.  John is now an ancestor, which in some cultures is seen as kind of a promotion.  I'm surprised Hallmark doesn't have a card that says "Congratulations, you're an ancestor."...but then who would you send it to?  "Congratulations, your Uncle is an ancestor" doesn't work any better than "Congratulations, you finally married off that ugly daughter of yours...."

For years (wow, it's been years) when I'd visit the facilities John was in, I would mentally gird my loins to go do battle with death.  I'd walk in projecting confidence and energy-pushing back the gathering gloom with a booming voice and a smile.  Yet, sitting next to Uncle John's body, I didn't feel that I had lost a battle.  One, it wasn't MY battle, it was his to win or lose.  And he didn't lose-he moved on and left behind a body that no longer worked for him.  As I stared at what remained, I thought to myself "that is not John at all, that is a carcass...Death, are you happy about that? "  Ok, "Oh Death, where is thy sting" is more poetic.

But, more than just the lack of loss or victory, I got the sense that Death, the big D with a capital letter and everything, was really an illusion.  There was no Death, nothing inhabited that body at all.  Death did not take over as much as John, like Elvis, just left the building.

Farewell, My Uncle

Uncle John passed away this morning.  It was just like John to start a new journey on a Monday morning-he's very orderly and conventional.  I felt him go-I was driving around the parking lot trying to compose myself and find a parking spot and "Poof"-the tension just left and I knew he'd just died.  I even giggled out loud-"You died while I was trying to find a parking spot."  My being late was a running joke with us.

I've never actually seen a dead person that wasn't in a coffin or a picture.  John pretty much looked like he was asleep, minus the shaking that was the calling card of Parkinson's disease.  His hand was still warm and his body relaxed further while I sat there with him.

I remembered reading that the body should not be disturbed so as to give the soul time to leave, so I sat there until I felt like he had really and truly left the building.  While I sat there, I talked to him about what I was feeling-and was surprised to realize that the grief I felt was for me not having my Uncle-I was truly glad he was freed from his body that had failed so. 

 Is that always the way of things?  Is grief an emotion for the living and not the dead?  If so, that doesn't make grief seem very noble at all, does it?

I admitted freely I'd rather sit with John's body than go tell any family members, and there was no hurry.  Grief can wait a few minutes more.  I told Mom and held her and comforted her, and went to Daddy and told him it was OK to cry.  My parents are neither one very comfortable with crying, so I led the way with some more tears and hugs, until it felt like it was enough for them.

I thought about how people put quantity values on tears-"she hardly shed a tear" but I know those few tears cost my parents dearly, and was a fitting tribute to a man they loved.

A few nights ago I dreamt John was at a party with me and was fat and happy. I gave him a hug in the dream and I knew at the time it was him telling me how he wanted to be remembered.  Mom agreed with me when I told her.

A few months ago I moved everything out of the trust and back into John's estate-when he's gone, I'm done and back to my own devices.  I will stay in Oklahoma and take care of my family still, but I am also ready to have my own life too.  No one ever intended for things to get the way they did, but they did, and since they did, that must be how they should have been.  But I'm ready for a new direction too.  John's off on a new adventure and so shall I be-and probably neither of us knows which way we are headed.

John was a good man, a kind man, without a mean bone in his body.  I know Dottie was waiting for him, I could feel her in the room with us, and there is always that part of me that wants to go be with them.  But now is not the time.

John, I miss your smile and your quiet humor....I miss you.

Hmmmmmmm

I traded the jeep that I traded the motorcycle for for a truck.

That makes no sense.

In the beginning there was a red motorcycle.

I traded it for a jeep.

I traded the jeep for a truck that would actually pull the trailer I had before the beginning.

So now I can pull my trailer but if I want the wind in my hair I guess I'll have to hang my head out the window like a dog.

Huh?

I want to live in the backwoods in a mansion made of trash

Travel the country on 200 dollars cash

I want a zillion animals

But able to leave at the drop of hat

I don't really know what I want

Whats up with that?

Why do we have to choose.  One life is not enough.

Brrrrr

On a day like today I wish I had furry ears.....brrr.

Animal Wednesday-Oliver takes the helm

Greetings Humans!  I have come to share my wisdom.  First is a picture of a being my human servant calls "Cousin Mocha".  He's a Slim (my word for dogs), but I do rather admire his hairdo.

Last week my human was gone a lot, distracted even more and did something horrible called "cleaning the kitchen"....smelly liquids on the floor, chemical stink everywhere.  THEN, she put away my peanut sack.  I've been known to nip over to the counter if the peanuts aren't forthcoming and get my own.

One morning she left me in the back room while she went off to "visit".  So, I took matters into my own wings and flew down the hall into that ghastly clean kitchen, bare of all decent food.  I opened a few cabinets, found something called Egg Nog Protein Powder, tore the top off it.....bleeeeech.    The human came back and found me playing in the powder on the floor-it clearly wasn't fit to eat.  Then she picked me up, petted me and gave me some grapes and pignolias.  She did mention there was a bowl of SEEDS ready in the back room, but I must have my fresh fruit and veg midmorning, or at the very least a peanut.

Apparently humans designate some days as special days or "holidays".  It doesn't seem to make them very happy-even though you hear the "happy holiday" phrase a lot.  Me, I think every day is special-why pick one or two a year?

Another human trait is that you need some cue or event to laugh.  Who is training you?  I can't see a thing, yet you won't laugh unless you get that mysterious cue.  Me, I laugh just cause I like laughing-maybe you should try it some time.

Happy Animal Wednesday-I must take your leave now, as there are some choice grapes that need my attention.  Ha ha ha hah haaaaaaah!   HAW!

All Talked Out

I'm busy, happy and OK-just talked so much last week that I'm in a non-communicative mode at the moment.