Nov. 13, 2002 ~ Emails and cat tales
The friend who emailed me about the "blood bath" in Afghanistan sent me another less than cheery forwarded email, this one with a flag-draped coffin. It was a poem about the death of a soldier, meant as a tribute on Veterans Day. Maybe I'm just overly sensitive, but I think I'm going to find a way to tactfully ask her to stop sending such things. It's not that it's horribly upsetting, but it's also not something I want to dwell on. I already have this constant little ache in my stomach, this tightening in my throat, and my eyes sometimes get a little blurry. It doesn't help to listen to the evening news, or pick up the newspaper and read about how close we are to war with Iraq, and how they are stocking up on antidotes to nerve gas.
A friend has come up with a good solution to a small problem. Well, it's a large problem involving a small animal, who nevertheless has feelings, too. Misha, having limited time remaining, is now in "anything goes" mode. He gets to eat pretty much whatever he wants. I try to be discreet about it, since we have another house cat, and Pepper isn't allowed such dietary indiscretions. Pepper has health issues, too, notably pancreatic problems, and a very sensitive stomach. I feed Misha his extra food quietly, without calling his name, and if Pepper sleeps through it, all the better. But some foods must smell so inviting and delicious that Pepper can't help but notice, and he comes running, wondering where HIS treats might be, and why on earth does Misha get to eat something wonderful when he doesn't? According to my friend, the key thing here is the animal's age. Misha is probably at least 15 (he was an adult when he came to live with us), so I've decided to explain to Pepper that when HE is 15, he can have special treats, too. Kind of like making kids wait to drive or date or vote. I'm not sure that the kitty will understand the reasoning behind my explanation, but one can hope. Well, he MIGHT!
All rights reserved
_______________________________