Mountains and Islands

It was a rough weekend.  My beloved Lucy developed acute blindness.  The vet was a bit perplexed Friday.  He prescribed an anti-inflammatory and antibiotics with the hope that her condition is caused either by an infection or pressure on her optic nerve.  We have an appointment Thursday with the clinic's new resident cat specialist to follow up.  Poor baby.  I must say though, it's amazing how well she gets around.  She has long been an outdoor cat, very independent, so keeping her cooped up inside in near impossible.  She came with the house, after all and lived outside her entire life before we came along.  She doesn't stray too far away and knows the turf better than we do, at ground level, so after one excruciating night trying to keep her in, we let her go.  She was gone for a few hours, then came home.  Lucy can still jump up onto the countertop where she eats, though she does give it a little extra umph and flies a little higher than needed.  It seems to be her way o

I took the munchkins, aka kittens to their first veterinary appointment today.  There, I learned that we have two boys and a girl. My assumption that the little shy one was female turned out to be bunk.  She is a he.  So I can't call her Pippi as in Pippi Longstocking , so I'll call him Pip as in Pip Sqeak .  Pip Squeak Todd- Niederpruem .  What do you think of that?   They are also younger than I guessed, six-eight weeks according to the vet.  They got poked, prodded and fondled today, most of which they tolerated well (though that fecal test makes me squirm just to watch).  Anyway, they are healthy, with the small one on the skinny side but otherwise OK.  To give you an idea of their sizes, the biggest weighed in at 1.6 lbs.  Next, #2, tipped the scales at 1.3 lbs.  The bitty Pipster barely registered at half a pound! None of them would have made it at the local humane society.  Any cats admitted there under two pounds are immediately axed.  Did I mention that before?  Now

They are growing!  On Monday, it will be one week since I brought the little kitties home.  They have since taken over the lanai.  My neighbor was kind enough to loan me a giant pen/crate she wasn't using.  Since it is suitable for a Saint Bernard, it give the little guys room for a little resting spot, food and water, litter box and a few logs I've put in their for them to climb.  I take them out several times a day to romp all across the deck, wrestling and pretending that I'm their favorite tree.  I'm still looking for a good home or homes.  I won't give them away to just anyone.  It has to be someone I trust to care for them as well as I will, and if I don't say so myself, I set a pretty high standard.  Anyway, at night, they go back into Doc's crate, which has solid sides so is much warmer.  If it gets really cold out, I'll bring the crate inside.  But this is Hawaii, so I think their fine right where they are.  I place an item called a Snuggle Safe

I saw them running around in the middle of the road and I was sure they'd get squished.  There were three of them on the street, with two hiding in the bamboo.  Only these three would approach to check me out.  The other two were skittish and ran deeper into the brush. I checked at Hirano Store to see if they belonged to an employee's family (their house is the closest to where I found them) and was told that they are not too happy with the cats they have, let alone a new batch.  One car stopped as I was gathering them up and the driver suggested they were probably dumped there.  A boy on a bike said he had seen them around the road the past few days.  Their mommy was nowhere to be seen.  Usually, if babies are meowing, she'll come out.  No mommy.  They look old enough to be weened.  So, I brought these three babies home.  I don't think I can handle all of them.  Three more kitties would be a challenge in our elderly critter household.  The big cats aren't too kee

Yesterday, I served four Texans and two Russians at my tasting bar.  Sounds like the beginning to a joke, doesn't it?  Well it kinda is.  The Russians were struggling to understand but they seemed to know English, at least a little, so I tried to make them feel more comfortable by asking about their trip to the islands. "How long was your flight from Moscow to Hawaii?" I asked. "October twenty-third," he said.  Now, this, I thought, was so damn funny that it was all I could do not to burst with laughter.  But I didn't want the guy to feel any more uncomfortable than he already did, so I bit my tongue.  Literally.  Then the lady standing next to him, a Texan, turned to the man and said, "You should drink more.  It will make your English better."  She smiled and raised her glass toward him, as if to toast.  He raised his back and said, "No good English," and she looked back at me and said, "I'm lost on him.  Totally lost."  

I'm sick.  My stories suck.  I am uninspired, sneezing, wheezing and coughing.  Ah but a nice Kendall Jackson Meritage '04 is making the world a better place right now. This morning, I mustered the energy to take the poochies for a walk.  As it happened, my neighbor Kathy was out for a stroll too, so we walked together.  While en-route, a we caught sight of a neighbor pulling out of his driveway.  He had adopted a dog recently, so I waved and asked, "How's Buddy?" He said Buddy had gone home to his original owners.  They had decided they could, in fact, care for him.   "I'm all alone now," he said. Then he launched into his story: his wife left him with nothing more than a note, the gist o which was that the thrill was gone.  He went on and on about her, as though we were his two best friends in the world, even though we hardly know the guy.  I felt for him.  I really did.  No doubt there's another side to that story.  There always is. Anyway, wh

Picture this: It's mid-afternoon.  The sun is shining brightly.  I'm sitting at a plastic table on the lanai, my laptop open, writing.  I hear Ron in the kitchen.  He then goes into the living room and turns on the TV.  It's on for a few seconds when he says, "Wow, did you see that?"  Now, I'll admit it is a very small house.  But the lanai is not the living room.  So I say, "No, I'm not in there with you." "I know but, I guess what I mean is that was amazing."  Then he tells me about it. I stop writing and indulge him his story. Later: It's early evening, the light is thinning and I am back at it, there on the lanai.  Ron sticks his head through the sliding door while simultaneously cracking a can of beer. "What are you doing?" "Writing."  It seems obvious to me, but I answer anyway. He then starts a conversation.  I say, "I guess I'm finished now," and close my laptop.  I probably sounded a li