In Pet Heaven

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Pet Heaven,

Well, here I am in my new digs.  Nice place, but I need to adjust to that incessant bright light and the 24/7 string quartet – let the truth be known, I don’t mind.  Funny, I don’t feel intimidated here and everyone is so nice and speaks kitten-nese.

Okay, now I’m directed to go into a kitty carryall, so with a cleansing breath here I go. I’m placed in a cart with other “cool cats” and delivered to. . . Ahh, …it’s a spa!

All of the Ms. Mar’s house smell is washed off–not that Ms. Mar’s house was smelly or dirty, but there were times when we all (6 to be exact) had to poop and it got noticed.  I got my nails  manicured and my fur trimmed. Again, like I said, “nice digs.”

I’m gently carried to a message table filled with catnip and a cute tanned Siamese “making biscuits” all over my body and face. If Ms. Mar didn’t have me fixed at birth, I would show this asian beauty a real good time.

“Ahh, so this is what heaven is like?”

My thoughts were disrupted by what sounded like a tail hitting my table. “Well, if it isn’t my old Bichon Frise buddy, Nicky, who I haven’t seen for seven years!  ”Man, you look great and happy as I remembered you. How’s it going?”

“Wait, what was that?”

I’m told that when that soothing hanging chimes sounds a visitor is being summoned.  ”Yea, I hear it; but who’s coming?”

Nicky said, “when the door to the spa opens, you’ll see.”  He goes on to tell me that he had a little difficult time adjusting to that idea.  He goes on, “Although, I was happy to see friends, I knew I left sadness and sorrow behind.  He continued, “I only wish that there was some way of telling Ms. Mar that we are in a great place and well cared for like she cared for us.” For a second, I could feel his pain, but the thought vanished as he tugged on my coat to follow him.

“Hey Nicky, watch it, don’t pull on my paw, I just had it done!”

“Come on, let’s see who is coming,” he said as he gave me a gentle tug.

The chimes got louder and the door opened with a “swoosh.”

Who, who, who is it?

St. Peter announced, “Lady PIA from the House of Mar!”

I had a hard time keeping up with Nicky dashing over to greet her.  I could not help to see great joys of tear flowing on to his silky white coat. He barked so loud that others from far away, “shusssshed” him.  I did not know that dog’s tail could wag that fast.  I paused to allow them to have their own time together since I had just seen her  two weeks ago.  I was so touching seeing pure happiness, it kind-of made me tear too.

So, off we went to have Pia get the royal grooming treatment and rest from her journey.  Nicky took me to the solarium to see all the stars and wonderful shooting stars in the sky and to wait for Pia to get done.  So, we ordered cocktails for three and spend time getting to know each other before Pia joined us.

The sophisticated cat that I am, I proposed a toast. Nicky and I raised our glass,  ”Here’s to friends and family.”  Nicky paused with a thought and smiled to say, “But may I also add, …here’s to absolute.”

Nicky’s 65-year-old scotch had a beautifully amber tone, and was honey sweet. My milk was just right matching my mustache and well-groomed paws.

“You know, I lived in Honolulu for most of my life,” Nick said as he arranged his fluffy tail as he continued to talk–”…and there, when drinking we would order “Pupus,” but you know it as, hors d’oeuvre.  Let’s order some.”

The platter came filled with delicious paw (no fingers) food.  ”Nick, so what was it like in the tropics?” Nicky leaned back to recall and unconsciously pulled out a cigar and proceeded to light it.

A moan from the maitre d’ reminded Nicky that fire was not allowed on the premise, as he handed the Cuban delight to the penguin suited penguin.

“In the summer, it is hot.  As you can see, I needed to get my fur cut to be comfortable.  Also, the tropics have fleas, to which I was not a big fan of.  Now, Bend, Oregon I was really happy there. It was cool, no fleeas–but snakes! “

This day was perfect as Nicky and I reminisce those days, while waiting for Pia. My thoughts drifted into a twinge of sadness thinking of  Ms.Mar and Mr. C.  I would love to see them, but they still have my biological mother and three brothers to care for. But I know in time, I will.

“Hold that thought,” as I motioned to the penguin for another round.

To be continued…

Aloha, Tux

 

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Dr. Seuss

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Life is never black & white, but eight years ago we were touched by “it.” The contrasting colors caught our eyes and we were forever changed.  Tuxedo, the runt of the cat litter, had a lopsided “got milk” mustache, white booties and soul-loving pretty green eyes; the rest of his body was pitch black.  His brothers (there were three others) did not have any markings; so he was special from birth.

Tuxedo 1 Continue reading »

National Lighthouse Day

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I have been a bit derelict at writing my posts lately.  But last month I was busy watching the Tour de France and now it’s the Olympics.  You can see how exhausted all of this activity has left me. Continue reading »

Outrigger Canoe Racing

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Outrigger Canoe

Outrigger Canoe

I’ve been absent from my blog for a while because Ms. Mar hasn’t been telling me any of her adventures lately.  But yesterday, she was taking photos for her daily blog (throughmylens365.wordpress.com) when she came across some outrigger canoes by the Deschutes River.  That must have brought back some memories from Hawaii because as soon as she got home, she put me on her lap and started telling me about the good ‘ol days. Continue reading »

Tako Poke

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Octopus (or Tako) or He'e). Photo taken in 1980)

When Ms. Mar said she was going to tell me a story about making taco, my mouth started watering. I’m always ready for a good beef, chicken or fish taco. But then she said, “no, not taco . . . tako.” What the heck is tako? Well, I was about to find out.

Continue reading »

Scuba – Conclusion

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

I relax on Ms. Mar’s lap for the conclusion to the story, Ms. Mar has to preface the story a little. She said that the reason she took charge of the compass is that Mr. C has a hard time with directions and she was afraid he would direct them out to sea.  In Hawaii, directions aren’t given by using North, South, East, West . . . they use landmarks as directions. Mauka would be toward the mountains; makai would be toward the ocean; Diamond Head is toward Diamond Head; Ewa towards Ewa. It was hard to see these landmarks underwater, so Ms. Mar took over the controls.

And the story continues . . .

Dive Log Book

As they swam into the abyss, Ms. Mar was confident she had read the compass right and were heading in the right direction. Mr. C was being towed by her as he was preparing his “I told you so” speech. He was not quite so confident of Ms. Mar’s leadership and direction. As the minutes passed by and they hadn’t reached the other side, little strands of doubt started going through Ms. Mar.

Suddenly, a large shadow started looming overhead. Mr. C’s first thought was a shark. But the closer they got, the bigger the shadow became until they realized they had reached the other side.

As they crawled up to the beach they found the flag almost in front of them. The marines were scattered and one group got lost. We think they ended up in Japan.  Ms. Mar and Mr. C walked away with the highest score for underwater navigation. With sport diving certificate in hand, they were ready to face the ocean on their own . . .

Diver's Club Patch

Stay tuned for more adventures.

Tux

Scuba Part II – Sport Diving

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Reef Fish

The Haleiwa Trench on the north-shore of Oahu was murky. The 100+ feet trench is the entrance to a boat harbor and is filled with unseen monsters of the deep. We were breathing compressed air and guided by our will to survive. At one atmosphere down, the murkiness only allowed us to see our instruments. Crude sign language was our sole means of communicating as our senses were reduced only to hearing our air exchange from our regulators. Images of “Jaw’s” played on my face mask as we swam deeper into the black Trench. Continue reading »

100 Feet Under the Sea . . . (.0003 Leagues Under the Sea)

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Scuba Patch

It was nap time and I’m usually given a story to munch on. I snuggle on Ms. Mar’s lap and pull the blankie up to my mustache and signal I’m ready with a purrr. She put me on my back and held the back of my head in her palms as she began to search for a tale.

Continue reading »

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