Now for a refreshing paws...

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see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Q: What do you call a cat crossing the Atacama Desert?
A: Sandy Claws

Merry Christmas, all!

The Turtle

The turtle lives 'twixt plated decks
Which practically conceal it's sex.
I think it clever of the turtle
In such a fix to be so fertile!

~Ogden Nash~

Rabbit Rabbit

Are you familiar with this harbinger of good luck? On the first of every month, when you awake, you must say the words,"rabbit rabbit" so that you will have good luck the rest of the month. I read somewhere that if you forget, you'll still get good luck if "tibbar, tibbar" are the last words out of your mouth as you fall asleep that night. Apparently it's extra good luck if it's the first day of your birth month. The two rabbits at left (created by Tom Claassen) were on display in Regents park, London, where they were photographed and placed on Flickr by Baronvonhorne. I love Flickr because you can find everything there, including a nice pair of rabbits.

There are variations on this superstition tradition and I'm not sure where it all started. Years ago (high school) I learned "rabbit rabbit" from one of my aunts (thanks, C*****)! I dutifully repeated the words each month and I even went so far as to wear a pair of rabbit earrings. Over the years I'd forgotten about "rabbit rabbit" until I came across it on a blog called Old Horsetail Snake. The fellow who posted on that blog used to keep up the "rabbit rabbit" tradition on the first of each month. Old Horsetail was an elderly gentleman who was busy surviving beyond his doctor's prognosis. His blog was full of humor and always a pleasure to read. Old Horestail moved on to that great rabbit warren in the sky a couple of months ago, so in his honor I am sharing "rabbit rabbit" with you today.

The Royal Goat

Lance Corporal William Windsor retired from military life last week. "Billy" served as a member of the 1st Battalion o the Royal Welsh. What? A regimental goat? Well who knew? Look at that fine fellow. He's even sporting full ceremonial dress! See that headpiece? It's a silver plaque,a gift from the Queen, a tradition started back in 1884 when Queen Victoria presented one to the first royal goat.

Lance Corporal "Billy" Windsor served for eight years, getting stripped of rank once for "..trying to head butt a drummer’s backside during a parade to mark the Queen’s birthday.." After making amends through exceptional performance at another event he was restored full privileges - including the right to be saluted.

Speaking of salutes, here's Billy giving the Royal Salute. Smartly done, Billy! According to one account I read, the tradition of the 'regimental' goat began back during America's fight for independence from Britain. Seems a wild goat wandered onto a battle field and wound up leading the regiment at the end of a battle. Soon a replacement will be chosen and trained to carry on the tradition. I don't know about you, but I think he's adorable and if I'm ever in England I plan to stop by the Whipsnade Zoo and meet the old goat myself.

I'm Not Touching You

We've all been here, haven't we?


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Friday LOL Fun

Lets kick off the weekend with some LOL fun, okay? Okay!

My Chef, Flipper

I'm getting a chef! Yeah, that's right, my own chef. Take a look:


In case you didn't know it, dolphins are talented chefs. According to researchers in Australia, dolphins are quite clever and precise when it comes to preparing calamari. They have tried and true prep methods for killing, de-inking and de-boning cuttlefish (squid), leaving tasty, tender calamari as the finished product. Furthermore, they've been observed using sponges as tools to cover their noses while they forage along the ocean floor. Do you know what this means? My dolphin will be fixing my dinner and cleaning up afterward! How awesome is that?

Living quarters might be an issue....

Speaking of Cows and Religion . . .

I don't recall where or how I first heard about this particular little gem but I was reminded of it recently and am compelled by something greater than myself to share it with you. This tune hails from Canada - from some folks who call themselves Arrogant Worm. The organ music and choral harmony in the latter part of the song make listening to this masterpiece a quasi-religious experience.



Isn't it great?! Humor me please and say, "Yes, you're right! This is the stuff of which greatness is made!!"

I want to sing this song in a choir. You know, after a couple of 'normal' songs. Just a little surprise for the audience. Go ahead and play it a couple times and feel free to sing along - I do.

I am cow, hear me moo, I weigh twice as much as you
and I look good on the barbecue
Yogurt, curd, cream cheese and butter's made from liquid from my udders.
I am cow, I am cow - hear me moo!

I am cow eating grass, methane gas comes out my ass
and out my muzzle when I belch.
Oh the ozone's getting thinner from the outcome of my dinner.
I am cow, I am cow - I've got gas!

I am cow, here I stand, far and wide upon this land
and I am living everywhere!
From B.C. to Newfoundland you can squeeze my teats by hand
I am cow, I am cow - I am cow! I am cow, I am cow - I am cow!


Your Welcome!

Hey Diddle, Diddle, There's Methane on Mars!

I've read in the news recently of confirmation that there is methane on Mars. Methane is an important indicator of the potential for life on a planet. There are some theories as to how that methane is being produced, which is important because the cause of production could indicate Martian life forms of some sort.

Well, I have my own theory about Mars and it's methane. Cows. That's right, subterranean cows. I'm not talking about your average, run of the mill cows. I'm talking about the super intelligent bovine beings alluded to by Mother Goose. What, you didn't know that the Mother Goose nursery rhymes were actually based on the realities of life? Just as "Ring Around the Rosy" is about Bubonic plague, "Hey Diddle, Diddle" depicts the eyewitness account of cows leaving Earth to inhabit Mars.

You see, the Earth once had a race of super-intelligent cows. These 'smart-cows', if you will, realized that they could not live in peace here due to the beef eating nature of people and animal predators. Sure, they were safe enough in India, where they were revered for their brains and Godliness. But in much of the rest of the world they were not so lucky. So they did their homework and using advanced technology beyond our current understanding, they 'jumped over the moon' as the people in the 1600's described it, and established subterranean colonies on Mars.

Why subterranean? Well, they couldn't very well live on the cold, desolate surface! Using more of that yet to be understood technology, they set up shop underground (like the book/movie City of Ember) and out of sight of our prying eyes. Now, however, our own technology has advanced to a point where we have discovered their methane. It's only a matter of time before we send up some space ranchers to extract the Martian beef and import it back to Earth.

Hey diddle, diddle the villagers were distracted
The cat and the fiddle this was the distraction
The cow jumped over the moon the cows made their escape, thanks to distraction
The little dog laughed at the distracted villagers
To see such sport foolish villagers and space bound cows
And the dish ran away lots of gossip afterword
With the spoon. by the 'silver' tongued witness who wrote this rhyme


I rest my case.

They're Just So Darned Adorable!

more animals

Seriously, can you imagine the havoc?

As I sat down to write today I glanced out the window and saw this half-grown squirrel. The little sweetie was about 4 feet from my window. I had to move the blinds and get my camera right up against the glass to get a shot and I was sure that all the movement would scare it away. As you can see, my little friend was unfazed and stayed busy collecting and eating berries off the tree while my daughter and I watched.

A few minutes later I noticed my cats were watching intently as well. One was on the window sill and the other was perched on the desk behind my computer. I picked up the camera again to get a shot of them watching the squirrel. Just as I was about to get the shot I bumped something (ever so slightly) and both cats turned to look at me and then abandoned their posts. Figures. My little outdoor friend stayed busy scampering all over the tree for about an hour while my sloth-like kitties took a nap.

If you look at the picture where my bio is, at the bottom of this page, you can see the tree in it's June splendor. It gets so amazingly heavy with flowers and leaves in the summer that it fills the window view and you can't see through to the building (and windows) on the other side of it. In the summer I don't need blinds or curtains because no one across the way could possibly see through. There are still a few leaves up top but the branches are quite sparse now and the privacy is gone. Still, I can enjoy seeing birds, abandoned nests and this adorable squirrel.

Most of my boob words have came from a book, were found on the internet, or were suggested by someone. I thought today's word out to have something to do with squirrels but all I could think of was squirrly-girlies and that's just too stupid. So I'm back to the list I previously concocted for: bra-stuffers. Yep, that's the one I'm using today.

Chimps Prefer Cooked Food

Well, it had to happen. Some curious researchers did a study to determine whether chimps prefer their food cooked or raw. I know this is something I've been wondering about nearly my entire life! You too? I know, right??? I can die at peace knowing that chimps prefer cooked food. Those lucky chimps probably thought they hit the jackpot. There they were, minding their own monkey business, when along came some friendly people with food.

The chimps in the study were given cooked and uncooked versions of carrots, sweet potatoes and beef. Said chimps showed a preference for the cooked foods. Well dang, I prefer cooked food too - especially if somebody else cooks it for me! I wonder if they got Banana's Foster for dessert? I suppose the next step is to teach them sign language so they can order up their food. You know, from the 'Zoo' Chef...

In an attempt to duplicate the researcher's results I did an independent study of my own. My study involved asking Sock Monkey what he thought. Since he can't talk, (he is a monkey after all) he ran out to the kitchen and showed me via monkey display just what sort of cooked food he prefers. That's right. Even monkeys prefer pepperoni pizza!

Random Ruminations

Morning cows
Originally uploaded by James Jordan

I read a news article on the internet about cows today. Apparently cows have a sense of direction. MmmmHmmmm. Researchers examining satellite images of cows have discovered that our bovine friends somehow have a sense of north and south, and align their bodies accordingly. This pattern has been seen across the globe. I'm not sure why researchers were looking at cows on satellite but hey, not my business...

Naturally this got me thinking about cows. I like cows, I do. For many reasons, not the least of which are the edible reasons. Cows are nice to look at. There's just something about driving past a field of cows that causes my kids and I to exclaim, "COWS!" as if they are magical creatures we had only ever read of, but never seen in real life. They usually appear so peaceful and relaxed - not a care in the world. I like cows more from a distance than up close, though. Mainly because up close you can see their snotty noses or drooling mouths....ugh - cow slobber!! There is also the cow-pie factor, which is not a problem at a distance.

I have a bit of a fear of cows. It's not that they are malicious or anything. I suppose it comes from my childhood (like any good phobia). We used to go out to my grandparents farm and when you are quite small, a cow is a rather daunting creature. They are loud up close, and just so big. I mean really, if a cow were to knock you down and sit on you there's not much you could do about it. Or if you got between a cow and a hard place (or fence) you would be really sorry. For sure I never want to be kicked by one either. I don't recall ever being 'trapped' by a cow or having any bad cow experience (well, bad burger at Burger King..) to blame this fear on, just a problem with my imagination I suppose.

I have some of the same fears about horses as well, in spite of the fact that I worked on a ranch once upon a time. Horses, unlike cows can be, well, not malicious but mischievous. Truly. The owner's son had a horse that only wanted one rider, and that was the son. He was disobedient with everyone but Cody. One day all the horses were in use and I had to take out a ride so I wound up with Cody's horse. That horse gave me a hard time and then deliberately stepped on my foot. He stayed there a while too. Horses, like cows, are heavy, and you don't want one on any part of you. He just stood there, on my foot, while I tried not to swear or do anything to scare the little children who were waiting for their ride. I could swear he laughed too. It was painful, physically and in terms of embarrassment.

Anyway, back to the issue of cow GPS, it's good to know that the majority of cows align north and south. Keep this in mind should you ever become lost and there aren't any mossy trees to point you north, or streams to follow to civilization. Perhaps you'll be in luck and spot a group of cows. Just don't get too close.

Toilet Kitty ™

It seems that Rafik is a toilet kitty. Let me explain. For some reason she thinks it’s her duty to accompany me whilst I am ‘indisposed’ in the bathroom. Seriously. I can’t use the toilet without her racing in to assist me. My other cat doesn’t do this – she’s sensible and she could care less what I do unless it involves the kitchen. Rafik however comes running if she see’s me head for the bathroom, or hears the bathroom door close. It is somehow obvious to her (not me!) that I need her in my lap when seated on the toilet. Yes, I know I can close the door and keep her out, it’s just that after it happened a couple of times I thought I’d see if she would always jump up in my lap. Sure enough, she jumps up and lies down and purrs…weird. God forbid I should shut her out - she meows pitifully to be let in. Come on, kitty, I’ve been using a bathroom unassisted for quite a lot of years now!

So now I’m thinking, “Hey, I should clone this cat and trademark her!” People might pay to have a Toilet Kitty™! Weird, twisted people, perhaps, but their money still spends the same...Can you see the ad?

“Now that I have my Toilet Kitty™ I get a warm, fuzzy feeling whenever I pee!”

or

“I really enjoy doing my business now that I’ve got my Toilet Kitty™!”

What? Was that too much information? Yeah, I guess you didn't come here to read about my toilet habits....and if you did, well, you're just the sort of person that would buy a Toilet Kitty™!

Fur Beasts

I've just downloaded some pictures from my camera and thought I'd share a couple with you. No family is complete without a fur beast or two. Sure, it always starts with one, but pets are like Lay's potato chips...one just never seems to be enough. Without further ado I give you Finko and Rafik. First we'll have a look at Finko. Here she is on display with my daughter's Vera Bradley bag.

 

Finko joined us a little over two years ago. She was a street kitty that a co-worker found. She was about 8 weeks old, scrawny and had a big lump part way down her tail which I assumed meant it was broken. Since it didn't seem to hurt her I thought I would take her home and clean her up and then make a vet appointment. After her bath I put her down on the floor and she began grooming herself. A couple minutes later I looked over and a good portion of her tail was about to come off! Basically it was hanging by a thread where the lump had been. Finko didn't seem to be in pain and there was very little blood. My first instinct was to bundle her into her carrier and rush her to the animal hospital. Then I realized that the tail would be off before we got there and it wasn't likely to rejoin her again in this life. You can see her evil glare in this shot - that's the 'don't touch me and expect to live' look.

 

I did the only thing I could and immediately left the room to avoid the grossness factor of watching her finish the 'removal' process. Next day we saw the vet, got ointment and shots and went home. But the fun wasn't over. The hair on the remaining portion of her tail began to come out and to this day only half of her tail has hair and the rest has a really bad comb over. As I mentioned, I left the room when I saw her tail coming off, and when I returned the tail was gone. I hadn't counted on it disappearing! For a split second I wondered if she could have eaten it. Naw...she must have played with it. Great, now there was a piece of cat tail lost in my living room. The girls and I searched, but she was small and had likely gone under the sofa and left it there. Who wants to reach way under there and feel for a tail? None of us, that's for sure. One morning about a week later I came out and there was the tail in the middle of the floor. She had apparently found it and played with it during the night. This time it disappeared for good. Next you see Rafik looking innocent. Don't be fooled.

 

Rafik is 5 months old and is the second fur member of the family. Rafik was also a street kitty and also came to us via a co-worker, though not the same one. Rafik's street days must not have been as bad as Finko's for she is much less shy and shows more affection at an earlier age than Finko did. She is also much more compliant when my 12 year old dresses her in clothes. My youngest has some stuffed animals with clothes that are just the right size for Rafik, and so Rafik must bear the occasional humiliation of being dressed up and photographed. Here you see her in her "Pimp My Cat" look. All she needs is some bling.

 

Finko gets lots of exercise now thanks to Rafik, and she no longer pounces on the girls and I. When these two aren't sleeping they're busy chasing each other about. They get pretty rough, and Finko could easily kick butt and take names but she goes easy on Rafik. I don't anticipate adding any more fur beasts to the mix as I have no intention of becoming a crazy cat lady. The fur beasts appear below in their natural habitat. They're so cute when they sleep....

 

Death of a Water-Fowl, by I.M. Squawking

I woke up at 4:30 this morning to what can only be described as the horrific shrieking, croaking, squawks of some large water-fowl being eaten (?) by a panther. I live in Florida so that scenario is possible. Anyway, I have two cats, one is 2 years old and one is about 4 months old. At first I thought the little cat was hung up by a leg in the living room. You know, cats get themselves into stupid predicaments at this age... I jumped out of bed and sprinted down the hallway followed by the older cat. When we got to the living room I realized that the noise was coming from outside and the little cat was not in harms way - she had followed behind the other cat to see what all the fuss was.

The great squawking, croaking, choking noise began again, so we all ventured to the sliding glass door and listened in horror. Actually, the cats just sat wide-eyed and stared at the door in deep concern (veiled as curiosity). I finally got the nerve up to open the door(I'm in a second floor apartment with a screened balcony), all the while imagining what sort of big bird was being eaten and what was doing the eating. We have a wooded area with a huge oak tree right behind us - the perfect spot for a panther to drag it's prey. Assuming a panther was within city limits. The noises came and went as I peered into the darkness. Seriously, what was I going to see with no light out there? What could I have done about it anyway? Finally the noises stopped. And about that same time someones air conditioner kicked off as well. So, was I just hearing the death of an ac unit? Did some bird get caught in an ac unit? Or did some night creature have a feast for my entertainment? Oh the possibilities.

When I got up this morning (no more disturbances after the death of the bird/ac) I looked out back. No blood, no feathers, all ac units running normally. I will say in my defense that wild, carnivorous animals have been known to come into town. Hmmmm...

You know, my kindergarten teacher wanted to hold me back because I had "too much imagination." I think I'd still be in kindergarten today if my mom hadn't intervened.