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James the Cat Arrested in Welfare Fraud!

Turns out James the Cat, the little scoundrel, is a professional con artist. After tugging at my heartstrings for weeks on end, it comes to light that he is, after all, stalking Miss Puss.

My oldest son revealed to my father that he knows this cat, and it belongs to a friend of his that lives the block over. The sneaky devil (I mean the cat this time, not my son, although the title has been used in conjuction with my son) is sniffing after my folks' sweet kitten, who isn't even a year old yet and hasn't even had a heat cycle. He'd better back down...after being fooled so badly I won't hesitate to bring charges of corrupting a minor.

I guess my parents had better make an appointment with Doctor Doolittle P.D.Q. if they don't want little James Juniors swinging from their sheer curtains.

I can't believe I've been had by a cat!

Posted by Bullyland at 09:31 AM | Comments (6)

Can you help James the Cat?

I had a nightmare last night, it was horrible. In the dream, I was in my parents' yard walking through the snow. My foot bumped something, and I looked down. It was a black cat. The cat was frozen solid, tongue out, tail up. He had died in the freezing temperatures and was stuck tight to a bank of ice.

I'll admit I'm a sucker for animals. I'm always taking in foster kittens and finding homes for them. Sometimes the home ends up being mine for a long time, or forever, as was the case with my dog. In fact I have a kitten that has overstayed her foster time by about 3 months.

James, as I've recently named him (his personality reminds me of my brother, whose first name is James), started showing up on my parents' porch a few weeks ago. He wanders from front porch to back porch to side porch in an attempt to find an open door and boot-scoot his way into the house. He has an ingratiating smile. My folks adopted one of my foster kittens, Brie (renamed "Miss Puss-Puss") and at first we joked that this big black cat was after her. However, Miss Puss, as sexy as she is, isn't in heat. I believe that it's not my parents' female cat that James has sniffed out, but rather he has sniffed out a family with a cat, a safe haven, and is trying his damndest to align himself with them. A family with a warm, happy and well fed cat is like a magnet for a cold, scared and underfed cat.

My parents aren't nearly as soppy as I am about animals. I had to wheedle and annoy the hell out of them to adopt Brie..oops, I mean, Miss Puss. They roll their eyes and bite their tongues when I speak of my menagerie in one breath and my empty wallet in another. I don't expect them to take in James, who has a mild case of dandruff, one ear that is only half-there and the other pocked with teeth and claw marks, and is likely a walking flea-hotel. James is unneutered as well and most certainly in need of shots. James isn't skinny - it's rare to find a skinny cat as they will eat anything in order to survive - but he is most definitely homeless.

I am smitten with James. He is friendly and unafraid, allowing my dog to sniff at him playfully once when we came for a visit. He won't be "shooed." His optimism has gotten under my skin. No one has fed him (well, uh...ahem...cough... perhaps I let a few pieces of cat chow fall out of my pocket the other day), no one has let him inside, no one has given him hope that this is a house he will be accepted into and cared for - yet he continues to wander from side to back to front door in hopes that he will.

I would like nothing more than to take James home and give him the warm lap and bowl of cat chow that he so clearly desires. However, I cannot afford to buy the flea control and shots that he so desperately needs. Will you help James? If you have it in your heart and pocketbook to help James come home with me and be loved and cared for, please click on the "tip jar" at the right hand side of Bullyland's homepage and give what you can to his shots-and-Frontline trust fund. Or perhaps you have a place in your home for James.

I'm inspired enough by James' faith in human beings to believe that by Christmas, James will find his way into the door of his dreams.

Posted by Bullyland at 11:25 AM | Comments (2)

I wear my sunglasses at night

Well, not really. However, I never realized just how much I do wear them until I lost them recently.

My sunglasses are my babies - prescription, polarized lenses of just the right tint of dark gray, Ray Ban Wayfarer frames. I waited and waited for the opportunity to afford these and I absolutely love them. I want to marry my sunglasses.

Anyway, I lost them the other day and man, oh man, was I frantic. My eyes are photosensitive. I can't stand glare. I can't stand looking people in the eyes.

It's true. Sure, I'm a tad sensitive to the light and practically blinded during a snowstorm and really must wear my sunglasses for these purposes...but...I've developed a disturbing habit of wearing them even when I don't need them, into stores, the library, just about everywhere. I feel ridiculously safe behind my dark shades, so big, black and consuming that if I robbed a 7-11, they'd have to use my freaky hair to identify me. "Yes, officer... she had, uh.. hair that stands straight up, and I...uh...I can't remember her face."

You may get the feeling I like anonymity, and you'd be correct. I hide behind many things, my screen name, this blog, my weight - oh, yes...and big, black sunglasses. I can't help myself. I'm really an introvert at heart. I'm afraid, though. I fear for my future - wallowing in aloneness, no one knowing who I am, ending up a spinster with several cats and an abnormal amount of plastic grocery bags filled with God-knows-what.

I had the unwanted opportunity this past several days to learn to live without them. Sure, I have an old back up pair - but they are the wrong prescription and so badly scuffed and chewed by dogs that they're almost impossible to wear. I had to look people in the eyes - and more frightening - let them look into mine. The first few days were horrible! I felt naked! Exposed! Then I started getting used to it. I started to realize what a freak I'm allowing myself to turn into with all this covertness. Finally, I began to actually enjoy face-to-face contact with strangers, and didn't even think twice that I was, say, sitting in a library reading books with a NAKED FACE. Ha! My eyes aren't really windows to my soul, which can be pried open and slipped into, and robbed of all my inner workings. They are only eyes, and people can see them, and I won't die if they do.

I did come upon my sunglasses - today. Turns out they weren't lost after all, but simply tucked inside a shamefully unused athletic sneaker. Hooray! My babies are back, safe and sound, in my possession. I still live in fear of blinding sunshine or glare from rain or snow. But perhaps I can leave them in their case now and again too, as I no longer fear exposing my soul without them.

I'm free!

Posted by Bullyland at 04:23 PM | Comments (1)

I know this much is true

I've been reading the book with the above title by Wally Lamb, (yes I admit to an "Oprah's Book Club" addiction, what can I say, her choices rock)... but this entry is more about... well, what I know.

I know that my hair grows straight up. I noticed this only when I got it cut very short. As in, growing pointed toward the Heavens. As in, Cosmo Kramer. As in, if I dyed it bright orange and was really grumpy, you might mistake me for the Heat Miser.

If they didn't make "product," I could make some money at the circus with this hair. All I can say is Thank God for Aussie Aussome Volume Mousee-Gel Fusion.

I know that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are ageless.

I know that I can make a meal out of macaroni and cheese several times a week, and keep it healthy.

I know that sometimes, the unraked leaves just have to stay unraked.

I know that you don't know how to go grocery shopping just because you move out on your own. This is evidenced by my appointment with my oldest son, who recently moved into his first real apartment, to bring him to the supermarket and demonstrate how to get more than 2 days' worth of food for $50.

I know that you can't make Christmas go away just because you are sad. You might as well be happy, if you're going to have to pretend that you are..

I know that friends are truly only appreciated when they aren't readily available. Two of my best friends recently moved away - one to Australia, and one to Colorado. Man I wish they were still here!

I know that it is physiologically impossible to resist a fat kitten.

I know that I am really, really, REALLY glad that Friday afternoon has finally arrived.

Have a great weekend!

Posted by Bullyland at 04:36 PM | Comments (5)