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My husband tells me I am a makebate. So, what's wrong with that? I love to write. I have 2 great kids and 1 grandson. I'd love to say I am "retired" but really, who retires from life? Shoot me a question, comment, rant or rave. They are all welcome here. Love dogs, my family, and most of all, debate. Pro NRA, conservative and a right wing lady.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Living as a Feline in the McArthur House

Having lost my job of 11 years as a medic, my life has taken some rather bizarre turns of late.

I was denied my unemployment.  And truth be told, I suppose it would not have really taken it, as I feel that if you have a body, mind, etc, then you should be out in the work force - no excuses.  I have the same attitude about people who collect any type of assistance, or, in today's jargon, Entitlement.  Everyone seems to think there is Entitlement around every corner, in every one's back pocket, and living in every town, USA.  Hell, some people might even have some bizarre notion that Entitlement is sold at your friendly neighborhood drug store, next to Condoms and Birth Control  Oh wait - those two items need to be mandatory for everyone on the Entitlement planet.  So, I guess now you know how I feel -really!!! 

So, I get up 3 days a week, at 0330, and go to my part time job, as a baker.  I've done so much in my life.  I just never thought that baking would be what I was doing at 47, and at the jumping off point of becoming a grandmother.  But, I am baking.  Thank God, and all the gluten angels, that I have Celiac Disease, or I would be a plump at a Christmas goose... tasting, hell eating everything I prepare.  The local gourmet grocery, just 2 blocks from my house, has been a place I have frequented for the last 18 years.  I am not only a customer, but an employee.  I have worked there on and off for the past few years.  You get to know the people that work there, and also all the locals that come in every single morning for their latte or one of the muffins I bake.  In a world of no brainers,  the baking does require some enhanced knowledge of how to manage your time, multi-task and critical thinking.  All in all, its a pretty good gig.  In fact, here it is - 0900, and I am done for the day.  Muffins, muffins, muffins!

And here I sit, at my left arm attachment mode, the computer, facing the television, watching Fox News, and reading blogs, scanning the Internet for stories about military, politics, health issues, headline news and my 3 email accounts; one of which is for job hunting, one for the HOA and one just because.  I keep pretty busy.  If I could make a living doing all of this, I guess I could be wealthy.

When I return home from work, I find myself looking at the pets and wondering, "What is it that you both do all day long?"...Are you enjoying each other's company?  Do you run in circles, chasing tail (no, not that tail) and getting in trouble.  We actually leave Fox News on for the dog and cat, just in case they need to have the up to date headlines of world as it turns. 

In particular is the cat, Mickey Finn.  If ever there was s source of free entertainment, our kitty is just that.  Poor Mickey Finn.  He has a few strikes against him.  Finn is about 2 years old.  He is all black.  I read somewhere that black cats are more likely to be euthanized because stupid people out there think black cats are some type of reincarnated "witch", or they are "evil", or "scary" !  People - listen up.... Black cats make great pets.  And if you get them from your local animal shelters, they will be forever grateful.  All animals from local animal shelters know they owe their lives, all 9 of them, to their human rescuer.

Now, as for Finn, well he's "special".  And I do mean special.  He is a survivor.  Apparently, the story goes that he and his sibling Moses were born with pano-leukopenia, which is a neurological and respiratory disorder.  Cats appear to have ataxia, which in a human speak-ese would mean that they look like they are punch drunk.  Hence, Mickey Finn's name.  You know, someone slips you a "Mickey Finn" in your cocktail, and you are the headliner in a one cat comedy show.  Finn spends his days, I presume, running sideways through the house, chasing imaginary bugs, fairies and even his own shadow.  He is not stealth, but rather a goof of sorts.  He is constantly hungry.  And I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that he runs to the food bowl whenever someone gets up.  He really thinks that some food will fall from the sky, and miraculously appear in his dish.  Finn also has a deep affinity for Casey, the dog.  Crazy.  Of course, Casey the dog could care less, and so Finn does everything in his power to put his tail in Casey's face at every chance he gets.

Finn's brother Moses lives at Pet Kare Clinic.  Moses also shares the same abnormalities.  Crazy walking patterns, cough and sneeze, wheezing, and runny nose problems!  Out of a litter of 6, only Finn and Moses survived.  For that, they are indeed extra special.  Yes, I love my pets.

So, as I sit here and spin my wheels after getting up at 0330 to bake, and getting home at 0900, I am fortunate enough to be able to take a glimpse inside the life of my pets, and think, "What is it like to be a feline in the McArthur house"?

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