Cats at the shelter are stressed, don’t eat right, and may have come from abusive homes. But just get them into a safe, calm, loving environment, and they perk up, and plump up just fine. See what a little love (and good food) can do?!
(NOTE: Random cat pic has nothing to do with the content of this post. It is here for the sole (or soul) purpose of attracting your attention).
I don’t have any specific reason for hating Mondays, other than always feeling extra tired and crappy. Haven’t ever figured out why. Maybe always relaxing and taking it easy on weekends produces some “withdrawal” effect or something.
After having accounts on a few dating sites now for about 10-15 years or so, and never getting anywhere I want to go with them, I decided to cancel my accounts. I go through this cycle quite regularly (except for the cancelling part). I send out a bunch of messages to ladies who I think might have some slight interest in getting to know me (let’s say a batch of about 40). I usually get a small number of responses back. At least one or two are from respectful and considerate women informing me that they are indeed NOT in the slightest interested in knowing more about me. I may message back and forth a few times with one or three who suddenly are never to be heard from again. Out of the final one or two, I actually manage to take them out on a “date”…well, at least a “meet and greet”. You know what comes next – at least one of them is a no-match, either from her side or from mine.
If there is anyone left at this point, then I usually get to date her several more times before that final potential relationship goes “south”. At this point, I may decide to give it another go, and send out more messages (it feels too much like applying for a job). By the end of that round I am sure to be disgusted with the whole thing, and crawl back into “Merlin’s” man-cave to spend any number of months practicing the art of living a Hermit’s existence, until loneliness catches up to me and I do it all over again.
So in 10-15 years of sporadic online dating, I have found a couple of acquaintances, but no lasting relationships. Thus, this time I have decided to just give up on the online dating scene (for awhile anyway), as it seems to be working oh, so WELL for me so far. There has to be something better!
So I cancel my OKCupid account, and I surf over to my Plenty Of Fish (POF) account to do the same there, and what do you know….ya, you guessed it – I have a message waiting for me. OK, I do not have a high expectation for this prospect, but I would be remiss if I did not at least check this one out. So far, she does not really “seem” like the type of person who would make a good long-term partner for me, but let’s just keep an open mind to it. All will become evident with time. In one day, we went from messaging to talking on the phone – that is a good sign. I predict that we will meet in person this week sometime. From there, it is anyone’s guess. Who knows, I might actually get “lucky” this time.
So far I have not said anything about all the other incidental frustrations and problems with online dating sites (at least the free ones). There are more than a few men and women simply looking for a hand-out. I understand that our society has made it very difficult for so many people to simply meet their own survival needs, much less thrive as human beings. It does not surprise me at all that there would be so many who are trying to get a little (or lot of) help from others. Of course, some of these people ARE actually just lazy, and want someone to take care of them just like their parents did in the years prior to them getting “booted” out the door by those same disgruntled and thoroughly disgusted parents. Then there are the outright scams to separate the weak and trusting from their hard-earned money. There are all the women from “Ghana”, and the men in the “military” preying on anyone who will listen (these are two of the most common scams I have experienced, or heard women tell about – it does NOT mean that every lady from Ghana, or every military man is a scammer).
Then there are all those just looking for a good time. To tell the truth, most people are ultimately looking for sex, but on one hand are the players of both sexes, and on the other are those who want a sex partner, but who want it to last much longer than just a night or two. There are a small smattering of folks who actually only want a friend (platonic) or a pen pal. The problem with the players is that they never identify themselves up front, it is only after they get what they came for, and vanish into the sunset, that you find out the truth. So, you just have to take your chances. Then there are those who only want to sext, have phone or cyber sex, or just want to trade nudie pics.
So, the whole free dating site scene is not that conducive to finding long-term stable relationship partners unless you are willing to put in the time and effort to weed through the players, scams, and non-matches to get to the rare match. Some are willing to do that, but the level of physical energy I have to put into it is not that great, and we have not yet considered the cost of gas, food, and entertainment that dating requires (I am pretty short on that as well). It is perfectly OK for some people, but just is not working to my advantage.
So I think I will concentrate more on my blog, my health, and my spiritual life, and hope that there is someone left out there for me, and that God will bring us together.
All – in -all, seems like a typical grouchy Monday. Hey, it can only get better from here!
Gypsy is loyal to a fault….
Now, this is what Love is all about!
As I approach the contraband laying on the floor in front of my favorite couch, I glance over at my kitties. The guilty one is slowly slinking away with tail towards the floor. Without a single word, I have found the guilty party. I, of course, already knew this. As cat owners, we all know who is guilty of what. We know their personalities, their habits, their likes, and dislikes. I know which cat (Gypsy) gets in the trash at night, and which one puts her toys in the water bowl (Gypsy), and who sneaks into the window curtains at night while I am asleep (both, but more Holly, and I can tell by which vertical blinds are pushed aside – they each have a particular spot), and which lady shits outside the box in protest (Holly; Gypsy actually goes behind Holly, and finishes the job of excrement coverage that Holly only gave paw-service to). Yes, as cat people, we know who does what.
My downstairs trash can has (“Incorrect verb form after modal”, Fuck You, Grammar Nazi!) a rectangular piece of heavy cardboard, molded into a kind of garden planter shape. It was part of the packing material from some computer equipment package or another……..probably. It is exactly the proper size, when fitted upside-down inside the trash can, to snuggly fit inside, and bar access to the mostly paper and plastic trash hiding underneath. Cats, being the resourceful and sneaky little bastards they are, and Gypsy, an excellent example of the type, find such things to be a challenge to be overcome, rather than a “KEEP PAWS OUT!” sign. Today it was a piece of cellophane, you know, the kind you pull off the outside of a new CD or DVD to get to the goods inside. Cats just love this stuff. The noise it makes while they pounce and chew only adds to their kitty-pleasure as they attack and destroy their hated foe. To get at this little “toy”, I found that Gypsy had totally turned the blocking-block of cardboard upside-down, still resting inside the trash can. I suppose she thought to hide the deed by not overturning the can, and by not digging the block completely out of the can. But she failed to hide the plastic itself which was the real giveaway.
Yes, cats are much smarter and more resourceful than given credit for in the public eye. I had taken to hiding the paper bag of cat food in the closet so that the little critters would not tear into the bag and spill cat food all over creation (my closet floor). Now this closet, has the type of doors which fold onto themselves accordion style, and to the side when pulled from the center. You know the type. Thankfully one day, I spied Gypsy (yes, the naughtiest of the two) carefully reach her little white paw easily beneath the center of said door, and proceed to pull outward, opening the door. Arrrgh, next I had to add a heavy weight in front of the center of the door, to keep them (you know who “them” are) from opening the door to the fascinating closet in which resides the desirable bag of cat food.
I have one of those plastic tubs, the kind you can get a gallon of ice cream in, from the grocery. They are perfect for keeping dry cat food fresh, with a tight-fitting lid…air tight. One morning I arose to an aborted attempt to get at the cat food. somehow they had managed to get the lid off, and push the container off the counter and onto the floor. Now, it wasn’t quite the mess you would expect. Somehow, God only knows, the tub ended up upside-down on the kitchen floor, on an area rug in front of the sink. All of the dry cat food was still inside the container, and resting on the rug, with not a single crumb outside the tub (or maybe they ate all the ones that were). BUT…………………………………..this was not their last attempt.
I keep the tub towards the back of the counter, kinda in a corner. One day, they managed to pull the tub out from the counter. Then, they very carefully extracted the lid, and very neatly laid it upside-down on the counter behind the tub.
I am sure they had a feast that night!
Damn nosy-naughty-obstinate-stubborn-smartass-resourceful-stomach-driven-cute-little-furballs, full of headaches, fun, surprises, and even grudging shows of affection. They manage to show just the right amount of love and innocence needed, to keep you from being mad at them for more than a millisecond. Don’t try to tell me cats are not smart! They know exactly how to emotionally manipulate their “human’s” to get exactly what they want (which, not surprisingly, is mostly always FOOD).
I growl and complain,
but love them just the same.
They know exactly when to crawl onto your lap, purr, and knead your leg (painfully), while manipulating and seducing you into scratching behind their ears, and with half-closed eyes, give a purrrrfect impression of a little companion who loves, adores, and desperately needs your love, affection, and attention – mostly in the kitchen.
No, don’t tell me cats are not freakin’ smart!
These furry little creatures are part of my immediate family. They chose me, and have the run of the house, for the most part. I still do not let them sleep with me, mainly because I believe they would wake me at times I do not want to be awakened. Maybe someday this will change. I know that when I sleep sitting up on the couch (because I was too tired, or lazy to actually make it to the bedroom) they sleep with me, and do not seem to bother me.
But let me get to the introductions…
Holly is the lethargic one. Not much bothers her. She is the kind of cat that children could pick up, mess with, dress up, and manipulate as though she were a dancing puppet, without her fighting them or trying to get away. She has about 5 minutes a day of running around like a bat out of… well, you get the picture. This is her the rest of the day. She is a slow and fussy eater.
This is Gypsy, a very loving and affectionate kitty. She is the nervous fraidy cat of the two. Where Holly is docile most of the time, Gypsy is the one jumping at any little sound, rooting out the least little bug, playing it to death, and jumping any time you touch her when she is not looking. She loves to lick my fingers (mostly after I have eaten, before washing my hands). She has always scarfed down her food in record time as if she had been starved as a youngling (and possibly she was neglected). Actually, she was driven to a cat shelter, and abandoned in the parking lot, presumably because they were full and not accepting new cats at the time. But the people at the shelter saw what happened, coaxed her from behind the wheel of a parked car, and took her in anyway, and now she is mine.
When they are hungry (usually starting about 30 minutes BEFORE their normal feeding time), they jump up on the couch, rub against me, and sit staring at me until I give in and feed them.
They may not be the most exciting cats; they run and play like crazy about 5-10 minutes a day, they eat, they sleep, they poop, and can be annoying when they do things they KNOW they are not allowed, they get yelled at, they don’t care, and they do what they want regardless, but I love them anyway. And maybe, in their kitty way, they love me too.