Afraid of the Dark


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Nature3579August 11, 2016

“No, Way!!” I said when Ms. Mar asked me to go into the dark of night to take pictures of rock falling from the sky.  She begged and at times tugged on my tail to avoid me from dashing under the bed.  I got pretty close on one dash, but she dragged me out.

Suddenly I heard footsteps as Mr. C was walking down the hall.  “Go pull on his tail! will ya” was my last thought as I gave a hearty tug and freed myself from her grip. I crawled to the deepest and darkest part of the furniture.

I could hear talking and then silence.  I cautiously looked around my hidey-hole to see if she was going to surprise attack me from behind.  Whew, that silence got me nervous, then I heard the door close and the car engine slowly faded to quiet.  I laid there, suspicious, trying to detect movement and having heard none, I carefully crawled out. Again, I listened; but no noise was heard.  As I gained confidence that the coast was clear, I walked out relaxed, but stepped on a hairball I left prior to all the commotion.  I hate when I do that… very un-charismatic for a sophisticated cat.

I think Ms. Mar is afraid of the dark. But I digress; it is not the darkness that is the problem.  What she forgets is that animals lurk in the dark for their last meal before retiring for the night. I, on the other hand, have a routine that have worked for years which does not require me to kill other cute animals. When it’s near feeding time, I usually take a deep breath and exhale with an exclamatory call signaling, “I know, you know that it is time for my feast.” As usual, Ms. Mar dutifully obeys my call.

I’m glad Mr. C went with her.  Mr. C is a big guy, a former policeman, and thinks he can conquer anyone. But he’s had his two knees replaced and he’s 13 years old in kitty age.  But Ms. Mar felt better having him along.  After all, I would be prime delicacy for any wild beast in the forest.

The story they told upon their return: After about an hour of taking photos of the sky without much success, Ms. Mar heard a noise in the dark immediately looked around shining her flashlight in all directions.  Again,  the rustling of the brush caused Ms. Mar to collect her gear and almost dive in their parked vehicle and lock the doors. It startled Mr. C as he was watching the Olympic games on his phone.  “What’s that matter,” asked Mr. C.

“I heard something out their that did not sound friendly.”

“What was it”, I asked as she was telling a gripping story of horror.  Her voice lowered to a whisper as if she turned to a sound from behind the parked car.  “Oh no, what was it?” again I asked her for more details as my paws covered my eyes to shield me from seeing IT.  Ms. Mar looked around her as if she was reliving the horror again.  Then suddenly, she turned to me with glaring eyes and yelled, BOOOO!

Well, I then lost my badder control. I instinctively jumped with fright and recoiled to my hidey-cave under the bed. My heart was racing and I was surprised at my speedy response.

I heard laughter from both Ms. Mar as she left the room. “That’s what you get for not going when I asked…”

I laid there thinking that was not a nice prank to play on a delicate wonderful cat.  I need to get even, but how.

The saga continues of the Sophisticated Cat.


A Hike up Eagle Mountain


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Minnesota2015-5257August 20, 2015

Ms. Mar and I recently returned from her hometown in Minnesota, a place recently voted the “Coolest Small Town in America.” That’s pretty cool (I’m such a cute punster)?

It’s been lots of years since she took me back, but it hasn’t changed much.

One morning I summoned her for a head scratch when she invited me for a hike. Ms. Mar and sisters decided to hike up to the highest point in Minnesota called EAGLE MOUNTAIN. At 2301 feet, really? It can not be called a “mountain.” They should have named it Eagle Hill but I guess that doesn’t sound majestic being the highest point in the state.Minnesota2015-5204August 20, 2015

“I let Ms. Mar know that she was no spring chicken (yum) and maybe shouldn’t do that hike, but she would hear none of that. “I did it in high school, and it wasn’t that difficult.”  I told her that high school was a looooooooooong time ago. She laughed and off she went disregarding my advice. I shook my head, said a prayer before dozing off for my mid-morning nap. I wasn’t about to tackle that hike.

A few hours later (make that 7), I could hear her moaning and groaning as she walked down the hall. I guess it wasn’t as easy as she thought. She had to tell me all about it. She classified the hike into sections:

1.   Flat . . . Easy peasy (for the first 5 minutes)

Minnesota2015-5189August 20, 2015And2more-2

2.   Flat with rocks … Rocks, Smocks. I was born to hike (for the next 1.5 hours)

  1.  Whale Lake …getting a little pooped (another 5 minutes). I asked if she had seen any whales. No.
    Whale Lake

    Whale Lake

    Minnesota2015-5216August 20, 2015


  1.  Enchanted Forest … who the hell cares at this point (very pretty but lots and lots of tree roots to navigate); Minnesota2015-5225August 20, 2015 Minnesota2015-5234August 20, 2015and finally
  1.  Boulder Climbing … Nothing like sucking my water bottle dry (the last mile).Minnesota2015-5242August 20, 2015

They made it to the top and rested a bit before heading back down. About that time she would have liked a zip-line, but no such luck.Minnesota2015-5251August 20, 2015-2 Minnesota2015-5253August 20, 2015And2more

I told her so. 🙂




A Marathon Day


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I haven’t written anything recently but that’s because Ms. Mar and Mr. C haven’t taken me on any adventures lately . . . that is until last Sunday. I initially knew something was wrong when I was carried and cuddled in the wee morning hours.  This is unusual and I’m not accustomed to unusual. When they took me to the car I really knew something was up.  My first thought was we were going to the vet.  Oh, no!!!   Why, what did I do to warrant this?”

But when we got out of the car we were somewhere else. Bend_Marathon-00260April 26, 2015The symphony overture played as we took front seats (actually we were standing) to a chilling moment. Quiet moments rolled to a crescendo as human voices roared to gleeful shouting.  The first Bend, Oregon Marathon started with a countdown. Continue reading

In Pet Heaven


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