Tough Day for JJ

Today was a tough day for the Little Guy. Everyone was all cuddly and lovey dovey with him this morning, until he was suddenly, seemingly lovingly, swept up and carried off to the kitchen. There he was vilely assaulted by a syringe filled with some sort of clear liquid that left him increasingly unfocused.

Earlier than usual, P.U. returned, this time bearing a new carrying case. JJ being JJ, he checked it out. About an hour later, he found himself zipped into it and being carried out into the courtyard where P.U. turned to lock the door. This was clearly unusual, as we aer both accustomed to being ooshed inside before the door is locked. The next thing I heard was the garage door opening and him mewing piteously.

Two hours later they returned, P.U. reeking of gasoline, JJ reeking of things medicinal. Worse, he hissed me, then attacked. Naturally I easily avoided his charge, but it seemed the better part of valor to retreat to the safety of the bedroom. He followed. There things quickly got stranger.

Not content with hissing me and charging me, JJ ran wildly round and round the room, up across the window ledge, down under the bed and out again, back up and around and around. I got dizzy watching him. Finally, with one last hiss, he zoomed back down the hallway and out into the courtyard.

It's been a tough day since then. From what I can gather, he was shot at least four times, though by the end he was pretty groggy and isn't quite sure. He had a cold glass and metal thermometer shoved up his behind, as well as a cruel plastic loopy thingy, though the vet didn't seem too happy with the results of that incursion. Stuff was shoved up his nose and into his mouth. He was poked, prodded, and pinned down. The whole time his tormentors laughed, as though there were some bad joke or bet being played out at his expense. And now he wants to take out his abuse on me.

Afterwards P.U. rescued him and took him around a large place where there were all kinds of interesting smells. There seemed to be all sorts of interesting toys and things to climb, though he was in no shape to do so. Maybe next time, if he can just evade those nasty molesters... Maybe next time...

Poor JJ

Clearly Foggy

Clearly Foggy
19 May 2006

The rains have returned, ushered in by the blessed return of the fog, though somehow I’m not as elated as I expected to be. Can I be getting acclimated to this so sunny place where it is so frequently warm of late? Today was the first time in a month that JJ and I have been inclined to snuggle down under the comforter.

Too much brightness does not bring the clarity one might expect. Information overload causes glares and sheens to cast a haze over everything. Darkness does not help; what I want is a cloud covering that does not obscure.

Who’s impossible to satisfy?

Road Kill

Road Kill
18 May 2006

How does a duck come to be killed on a seldom traveled road? It has the freedom of flight and aquatics alike, yet evidently it chose to cross the road, and not an egg in sight. People are like that: with all the opportunities and advantages available in a seriously self-indulgent society such as ours, some folks just have to essay the most cumbersome, least efficient path in life with the longest odds. Rumor has it that life is no fun otherwise. How senseless is that? And how much more exciting? or is that exiting?

Sunny Daze

Sunny Daze
9 May 2006

It’s a warm and sunny day
But the catnip makes me want to play
To which all I have to say
Is YAY!

4JIT

4JIT
5 May 2006

Saw a license plate passing by
Saw the first four digits and oh my
Was that a metal smith from days of yore
Or a counterfeiter bragging about a score
The car attached to it looked authentic
Though I can’t be sure cuz it went by so quick
Or perhaps it was a reference in Chinese
To that jellyfish dish – I want some please
Maybe I’m just trying too hard
To wiggle and jiggle my brain lard

May Day Is Lei Day

May Day Is Lei Day
2 May 2006

A day late and a dollar short, I find myself nevertheless enjoying a sunny Hawaiian-style existence, roaming freely in and out of the courtyard despite incursions by the dreaded kitty eater (vacuum) and broom that prevented my blogging yesterday. Freshly hatched nestling birds sound their youthful exuberance. The yellow jackets are back, bringing with them the promise of burgeoning fruit on the leafy lemon tree in whose shade JJ loves to lounge. I myself prefer a good tummy rub with my back up against the concrete slabs whenever I can get it.

Sure, the world is troubled . . . out there . . . What’s an immigrant but someone who has moved away from his/her birthplace to a new locale? I have done that. What’s an undocumented alien but someone who has left no stamped paper trail in triplicate? JJ has official documentation, but I do not; does that make him any more legitimate than I? Sure, he plays harder than I do, but I am the superior lover: ask anyone. And yes, I frequently incite work stoppages, but let’s face it: I’m worth it. The people with whom I share my life are far too stressed; it’s unhealthy. I simply step in and help them to relax, to forget about their worries for a little while. I make their lives better and sweeter, as they do mine. That is called fair trade, or should be.

Ear Blast

Ear Blast
30 April 2006

Poor Max!
Got his eardrum blown out
By someone too lax
Who chooses to sit and pout
Instead of learning how to turn the dial
So the earpiece feedback doesn’t echo a mile
And leave those who can still hear
Trembling daily in fear
Of momentarily being deafened
By ignorance too foolish to defend

StarSpangled Neighborhood

Star-Spangled Neighborhood
27 April 2006

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood today. The sun shone brilliantly, glinting off the wind-tipped water. A sizable flag, worthy of a battlefield, waved gently at the entrance to the ungated community. I don’t remember noticing it before, perhaps because it had previously been obscured by fog, rain, and night. Today, however, it set me singing, and soon I found myself in the midst of a rousing chorus of The Star-Spangled Banner. What startled me, however, was the repeated desire to holler out, “Play Ball!” as I rounded the final phrase of the song before plunging back in for another round, as generally happens when a song settles into one’s head.

Play Ball: This is the exhortation of governmental and commercial interests alike. In this land of free enterprise and home of the brave entrepreneur, the general populace is daily encouraged to play ball, to buy into shared acquisitive interests, to blindly stay within bounds and fend off the dangerous tendency to succumb to “rabbit ears” that might cause us to notice what observers think and say. Such spectators are stigmatized as foreigners, aliens, and special interest groups. What can they possibly understand of our shared aspirations? We dare not let them disrupt our unity of spirit as we surge forward toward our destined Pyrrhic victories.

How does one’s mind wend its way from such a patriotic stimulus to such dangerously subversive thoughts? Clearly, it comes from being in a clearly foggy place.

Infinite Hold

Infinite Hold
25 April 2006

An 800 number call is a curious thing
First there’s that familiar sounding ring
A perky voice pipes up to greet you
Without even asking what why or who
You just get a list of options from which to pick
But you’ll find yourself on hold if you don’t decide quick
That’s when you’ll find yourself on Infinite Hold
Clinging to your receiver till your fingers grow cold
Maybe there’s music but maybe there’s not
Sometimes there’s silence when a company doesn’t care squat
Static’s another curious sound you might hear
If hanging up and redialing is something you fear
I’ve been hanging on here now for nearly two days
My hand’s gone numb and my mind’s in a daze
Every so often someone comes back to promise
Someone will be with me shortly because I’m a call they don’t want to miss
I’d hang up but I’ve forgotten how
To their tactics I refuse to bow
I’ve paid good money and I want it back
It’s just logic that I so clearly lack

Things I Have Learned So Far Today

Things I Have Learned So Far Today
by Max’s P.U.
24 April 2006

Even a pull-top can cover can have a very sharp edge.

An opposable thumb really makes a difference when trying to do the darnedest things, such as opening a band-aid wrapper, hitting the spacebar on a keyboard, and even trying to slip in a casual game of Freecell or Minesweeper.

Blood can flow pretty darned fast, even uphill.

I’m not as ambidextrous as I thought.

JJ is more perceptive than he gets credit for being.

The sound of someone on one’s roof can resemble the sound of a delivery guy unloading a shipment outside the front door, but the intents are opposite, the former bent on taking, the latter on giving.

Much can happen before a day is half done.

JJs UnBirthday

JJ’s UnBirthday
21 April 2006

It should have been his birthday. Thought waves had been emanating in anticipation all month long. Plans had been laid. He’d awaken ready for the day and raring to go, but it was not to be.

Breakfast was the usual; no surprises there. The courtyard door was opened early, and he was not at all reluctant to make use of the opportunity, but alas, it was not to be.

He waited patiently by the garage door, though his quivering tail gave the lie to his seeming placidity as he eagerly awaited the morning treat. After awhile, he realized that people were moving more slowly than he, and he returned to the house, only to hear the garage door opening. Out he zoomed at full tilt – BANG! The garage door swung shut, nearly taking a whisker with it.

Startled, he retreated as rapidly as he had emerged. A moment later the door swung open again. Wary now, he stayed back. Next thing he knew, he was being picked up and kissed, reassured that he is loved. Gradually, his heartbeat slowed.

Eventually, he returned to the courtyard and sat watching the usual morning’s preparations. When it was time for the door to be locked, he trotted promptly inside without hesitation or invitation, to be rewarded by the assurance that he is a “Good Boy!” So why had the door slammed in his face earlier?

It had started out a chilly morning, but by midday the sun, frequently a late riser, had returned to burn off the early fog. In due time the courtyard door was reopened, and he enjoyed his in-and-out privileges. What he really wanted, though, he just couldn’t seem to get: A Game.

Several times he thought it might happen. After all, there had been promises of games all day long as part of his birthday celebration. At one point he was lifted up and allowed to check out the toy closet. His nose twitched as he vacillated between hope and dread, not quite sure what he was supposed to do, afraid that if he was too forward, he would lose it all. Sure enough, he was set back down without any real opportunity to enjoy any of his toys. What was the good of that?

How could his day have been so grossly miscalculated? What did “last month” mean, especially to an eager furry fellow? Max had had his day, without equivocation. He didn’t even get a shrimp dinner.

Poor Little Guy!

Sunshine on My Shoulders

Sunshine on My Shoulders
6 April 2006

John Denver had it right:
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me smile
Seems like the rains
Have lasted quite awhile
But today the sun has returned to play
And I have only good things to say
The warmth on my fur
Is just what I’ve needed
Sunshine makes me purr
Clearly my needs have been heeded
I’m a happy cat sitting in the sunshine
Warming my fur, making me feel so fine.

Oh Happy Day

Oh Happy Day
5 April 2006

Today the sun returned and, for the first time in a long time, I eagerly explored the courtyard confines. So much has changed. In addition to all the things P.U. has been doing about the place, the rains have resculpted the basic terrain, carving out new paths to explore, turning over previously unexpected lairs. My whiskers quivered with anticipation as I investigated each new change.

Slugs and snails have been exchanging houses, just as we did last summer. The earthworms were out in force, feasting on the freshly overturned soil. New grass shoots have sprung up across the recently ravaged green. The newly planted apple tree is already settling into its freshly raised mound and putting out infant leaves. Soon the baby spiders will be out and about, a nice change from those pesky ants that have moved indoors during the recent rains. Overhead is the half-familiar sound of baby birdsong, signaling the onset of a new season. Soon the moon will be full again. I can’t wait.

In Memoriam

In Memoriam
4 April 2006

Tomorrow is the beginning of Ching Ming
Memorial season for the dead
Evidently it’s a Hawaii Chinese kind of thing
That’s been pounded into my head
When families and clans gather together
To visit our ancestors’ graves
One can always count on stormy weather
As we offer what the dead one craves
Things used to be straightforward and simple
Fireworks, paper money, jai, and a suckling pig
But now there are cars, condos, even a servant with a dimple
And for those who can afford it, the most elaborate rig
How can one keep up with so many dying and dead?
Yet one must go on living and trying to keep a cool head

Disturbing Dreams Rambling Through

The rains continue to fall here,
But I guess I should count my blessings,
For I hear that storms far and near
Are causing all kinds of distressings

People huddled in small closet spaces
Find their house ripped asunder
Surly winds leave no traces
Lightning strikes, leaving only thunder

Piles of rubble and debris abound in lieu of hope
As interminable rains wash dreams down a soaked mudslide
How are families in distress supposed to cope?
Trust in God and others to help take it all in stride

Hawaiian say Pele gives and takes back in return
Her gift of land is not something to spurn
But when she returns to claim what is hers
She'll not brook piteous demurs

When Nature has so generously provided
Only to find herself by greedy developers chided
We really have no right to complain
When she decides to reclaim her domain

Of course, that's easier to say than to accept
When it's my turn, there'll be a different tune, you bet
It's hard enough to live on just a prayer
Though maybe that'll make things easier if it's no longer there

We really don't need to go overseas
To make dead people and increase their needs
We've plenty of grief and strife right here
Might as well stay home and rail at what's near.

Good Lovings

Good Lovings
30 March 2006

Woke up with a start
I could feel my heart
Headed out the door
Sniffing the floor
Looking for my human
Who was sitting on the can

Just needed to be kneaded
To ease away sweat that had beaded
Some wispy fragment of a dream
I’d let build up too much steam
Till the knot in my stomach
Had left me a bit of a wreck

Good loving’s all it takes
For all our sakes
To usher back in the sunshine
And put an end to a blue day’s pine
Shared strokes and a kiss
Bring back my sense of bliss

What to Write

What to Write
27 March 2006

What to write?
That’s the plight
So much in the news
People lining up in queues
Marching in protest
Streets filled with unrest
Both at home and abroad
Against governments flawed
People dying in their own neighborhood
Shot by others who feel misunderstood
Where’s Pollyanna when you need her
To give one a reason to purr?

Grrr…

So Many Minds

So Many Minds
22 March 2006

So many minds busily clicking
So much noise today with all this ticking
How’s a fellow supposed to sleep
Without clothes piled in a warm heap?
There’s so much tension, I can’t concentrate
Do I interrupt P.U. when there’s JJ to bait?
The doorbell rings; I hate that sound
It always makes me want to go to ground
Dishes are banging, keyboards are clacking
This is worse than when everybody’s packing
At least the glorious sunset signals the end for today
And ushers in feasting and a nighttime of play

Sunset

Sunset
21 March 2006

I sit and watch the setting sun
See the neighborhood having funWhile JJ sleeps between the sheets
And dreams of crispy protein treats
P.U. smells of something tasty
Typing here all stern and hasty
Nature and Nurture now converge
It’s time for the Maxter to emerge!

Sleep

Sleep
18 March 2006

Must sleep today to make up for last night
When P.U. tossed and turned
As though in some furious fight
And the skin burned
As though inflamed from within
Fueled by some unseen coal bin

Today though the sun shines brilliant and bright
I seek the cool undercover darkness of night
It’s time to return to my nocturnal roots
So I can survive tonight’s repeated boots
Out of bed as P.U. once again tosses and turns
From the shooting pains and the skin that burns