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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Scribble and Scrambles - The Cat's Meow

It all started when we shaved the cat.

The last few weeks have contained bizarre and unexpected happenings.

I mentioned the excessive raccoon visitations last week…now there have been five more. All have been captured humanely and set free in much more welcoming environments. However, one or more of them apparently invited friends and relatives to our garbage can party and we are beginning to wonder if it will ever end.

Now that we are slightly paranoid, we’ve begun looking into this insane invasion and in the process have uncovered other issues that are making our lives less than serene. At first we thought the advent of financial tremors and leaking air conditioners might have something to do with Fabio. Could he be “waking up” at night and pranking us or acting out over being treated as just a two-dimensional object?

But no, the financial tremor began earlier. The relational maelstroms are new, but could Fabio have anything to do with them? I think not. Unless he is somehow throwing his voice. Hmmm. I’ll make sure to have the next serious conversation far, far away from Fabio, just in case.

The only other common denominator is the cat. Normally, people don’t shave cats. There are several reasons for this. Most of them can draw blood in a New York second.

However, Blackie (the GRAY) cat is elderly and fluffy. This is not a great combination when it comes to grooming aesthetics. Not at all. Taking pity upon her we had a family “shave the cat” night and liberated her from her unruly hair. Not completely mind you. She was left full-fur faced, full plume tailed and fluffy little slippers.

I’ll admit that she hated the process, just call me stumpy. But the after effects, though less than attractive, have been an improvement. She seems to like her sleek new look. Really.

But maybe not. Maybe the recent string of upheavals are the result of a cat curse.

You might want to check into that should you have a hankering to buzz cut a feline.