Tag: #Cats

  • ODDS and ENDS: Talking to the Dog, Shopping for Quirk, and Wrapping Up

    (Jump back, what’s that sound?)

    I know that I am not the only person who does this, because I have seen other people in my neighborhood do it, especially at night. And that’s talking to your dog on a walk. Now, I’m not talking about telling your dog that they are a good boy, or asking them to hurry up, or to slow down. No, I mean having a conversation with the dog. At home, I talk to the dog all the time. Like, if I have an idea, and I need to talk through it, the dog will be the recipient of my line of thinking. But out for a walk? No, I don’t want to look like the crazy guy on the block. Until, the other day, when I did it. I had several things I needed to take care of the next day, and I thought when the dog was trying to poop, that would be a good time to ask her if my agenda was in good order. She seemed to agree, or at least she had to no where else to go.

    As we are approaching Christmas, the wife and I have started looking for gifts for our family members who have a very excellent sense of humor. Last year, the winner was the fat plush cat with balls, which, for some odd reason, is no longer available on Amazon. For us, the quirk gift needs to revolve around a cat or cats. They do seem to be the funniest. Something with cat butts, or an art piece of cats watching use the bathroom are our winning ideas so far. No matter what we select, we do have to hope that it lands well, hence the good sense of humor being a requirement, but we also have to imagine and wonder what the reaction will be.

    AND as we approach Christmas, that will also mean that I need to wrap up my year on the blog. I only have two weeks left of live or daily created blogs left, and then I will start scheduling the final two weeks of the year. Lot’s of Christmas jokes, but I will again do a “Best Of…” week as well. In the past few years, I have let the “Best Of…” be the posts that received the most views, so you, the readers, have decided. This year I am going to change it up and select what I think were the five best blogs I put out. Maybe this is a good idea, maybe no one cares. Maybe it’s good to change things up from time to time.

  • ODDS and ENDS: But I Thought It Was Funny, Spotify for the Win, and My Beard

    (I think I want to live the sporting life.)

    Okay, so maybe me and the wife drank a bottle of cheap white wine last night, and maybe we tried to do some online shopping while I was watching the Cowboy game. And maybe we found a semi inappropriate plush cat on Amazon. And maybe I did text out a picture of that plush cat to a friend who I thought would find it extremely hilarious. Look, when me and the wife saw that cat, we laugh/cried for like ten minutes. My friend didn’t find it as funny. Sure, they found it funny, just not that funny. It’s a giant plush cat, with giant plush balls! Just read the reviews! The people who bought this cat are also in awe that a cat of this form exists in the world. C’mon People!

    Seems like everyone is showing off their Spotify Wrapped year in review. I am surprised that my Wrapped does not contain The Beatles in my Top 5. They have always claimed a spot on the list, but not this year. I’m not sharing my list, that’s personal, but I will answer that Peach Pit was my big winner. And when this time of year comes around, I do have to tip my cap and admire the marketing team at Spotify for coming up with this little data stunt. I mean, you get everyone to humble-brag about what the listen to; it dominates the news cycle for a day or two because it’s a fluff story, but it always seems like we need a fluff story; most importantly, it’s easily shared on social media. Bravo, Spotify marketing team, bravo! I hope whomever came up with this idea got promoted and earned a cushy job teaching a class on online marketing at an Ivy League school.

    It’s that time of year when I grow a beard. For the record, my wife and kid hate that I do this, and what they object to is that my face, understandably, becomes course and scratchy. See, there is no logic to why I do this, but the last time I shaved was on Thanksgiving, and then I just grow a beard through New Year’s. Being that it’s a New Year, I’ll shave the beard, but leave a moustache. (And the wife and kid REALLY hate when I have a moustache.) Now, I’ll keep the moustache until the Super Bowl. Why? No reason. Just something to do. The point here is to be back to being clean shaven by Valentine’s Day, because I’m not stupid.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Rats, FA Cup, and Spring

    New York City has always had a rat problem. When the Dutch founded their colony almost 400 years ago, they brought many things we are still dealing with to this day, but none are more ingrained in the fabric of the City than the rats. Face it, when the nuclear holocaust comes, it will be the rats and the cockroaches fighting for supremacy. And I have my money on the rats. The problem has become so bad that Mayor Adams appointed a Rat Czar to deal with it. Many proposals have been made like placing rat-proof trash and compost cans around the City, to banning the restaurant sidewalk sheds. These ideas might work, but walking around town I see a more practical answer right there in the open: Cats. My local bodega has a cat, and that place has been rodent free since it opened. I’m not kidding about this. My grandfather grew up on a farm and they kept cats in the barn to keep rats and mice away, and according to him it worked well with very little effort on his part; The cat kind’a knew what to do. So, just think about it- cats.

    Who needs an FA Cup? Not Tottenham Hotspur, that’s for sure.

    I know we are only on the third day of March, but I’m ready for Spring. I’m ready to open up the windows, and start hiking again on the weekends. Maybe even a little disc golf as well. I’m ready for green and color to return. I’m ready to transition to the next thing.

  • Personal Review: “Foster” by Bryan Washington

    (The short story “Foster,” by Bryan Washington, was featured in the June 14th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    I am always amazed by writers who use so few words to explain something, like the setting, and instantly I know specifically where they’re talking about. It’s like a magician making a large object emerge from a very small space; how did they pack all of that in there? Bryan Washington did that with his short story “Foster.” Washington dropped the word, “Montrose” in the second section of the story, and half way through the first page, I knew I was in Houston; along with the urban sprawl, sticky humidity, and vibrations of that city. This writer has skills in his word use.  

    “Foster” is a story about two estranged brother, one who leaves a cat with the other. The brother who takes the cat, lives alone in his apartment though his boyfriend, Owen, asks about moving in together. The story is told in short sections, which keeps the story moving at a fast clip. A co-worker at a university is introduced, the cat gets sick, and reflections on the past are brought up. There are thoughts about life with the estranged brother, and a slight mystery resolved about where the cat’s name comes from – All leading to a satisfying, though predictable, conclusion.

    I enjoyed this story. I liked the narrator, and wanted to learn more about him, especially his relationship with Owen, and their creation of a, I want to say, unit, as family isn’t quite right. The way Bryan Washington brought in these pieces, to make a mosaic of the narrator’s life, showing how connections sometimes happen and are thrust on the narrator, but still have value and meaning to him, was engrossing. As I thought about all of these pieces, I began to see the underling structure of the story, A+B=C. That’s not a knock against the writer, but to me shows someone knows how to craft a story.

    Like a good magician, Washington’s “Foster” is a story with a lot of sleight of hand happening. You’ll enjoy the trick while also knowing how it was done.

  • Our Dog

    We got our dog right before the pandemic hit last year. It was February, and we had promised the kid we’d get a dog someday, and it just seemed to make sense that now was the time to get a pet, as, sadly, our cat, who my wife had for over 19 years, had recently died. There was a void in the family with not having a furry animal around, and the wife found a rescue agency that was looking for good families. Which, sure, that’s us.

    And the dog was a good fit. She is great with the kid, and likes to curl up under the desk, or right next to you on the couch. She’s also great with new people: neighbors in the building, and people we meet on the street. She’s even great with kids who like to get close to her.

    But our dog hates all other dogs. And I mean, she goes ape shit trying to get after another dog to rip its face off. When I walk the dog in the morning, I have started to notice that other people with their dogs are avoiding me. I don’t blame them, really. My dog wants to kill their dog.

    Yes, we need to socialize the dog, or take her to obedience school, or hell, find a video on YouTube.

    But we haven’t done any of this. I mean, there is a pandemic going on, and remote school, and unemployment.

    But… I have another, sadder, lazier, and more evil idea, and before I say it, yes, we will get the dog trained…

    Our dog who hates other dogs, that seems like par for the course for us as a family. I mean, we can’t have a perfect dog, right? There has to be something wrong with her, because that’s how real-life works. A flawed dog makes life more interesting.

    Or at least this is what I am telling myself.