I was blessed with amazing angelic beings. VF & MMB- Mommy loves you. Extra love to the angels of Bastet (FB & TB) who watch over us all.
I am a firm believer that the right animals and people find us at precisely the right times.
Cats
Authors Like Cats…
“Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.”
―Robertson Davies
As a side note: You know it’s time to get out of bed when you’ve got a cat on your nightstand staring down at you and another at the foot of the bed standing like a statue. I seriously doubt they were protecting me from nightmares. It was more like “We let you sleep past 5:00 a.m. trained human, so now it’s up-up time before we start throwing shit down.” This is considered love. 😛
Unfancy
There is no nice way to say “I feel like shit.” I thought about it and decided I wasn’t going to attempt to gloss it over. That’s like buying heavily scented cat litter with the idea in mind that roses will make it all better. Unfortunately, no matter what you do, shit is still shit. Be it a feeling or an odor. (Okay, that was graphic. I apologize.)
I realized a few hours ago that with Father’s Day approaching this Sunday, it’s probably not doing a whole hell of a lot for my mood. My father passed away almost eight years ago after battling various forms of cancer for fifteen years. I always knew he’d die young, I simply never knew that it would have such an impact on me.
Finding a dead bird in my yard the other day didn’t do much to curb this gnawing feeling. I contacted the local authorities and by the time they got back to me, the bird was gone. Was it stunned? I don’t think so. It’s not often I find a bird face down anywhere, leave alone my back yard. It made me really sad. It wasn’t breathing, so I’m certain it wasn’t a magical vampire bird that was simply taking a nap.
For the past couple of years I’ve had a regular cat visitor (a big, black cat that I tried to take in myself when he was just a kitten roaming my yard) and while he appears to be well cared for, he’s a menace when it comes to other animals. I’ve yelled at this cat a few times to stop chasing cats and kittens all over the neighborhood, but as I said, he’s a menace. When he’s not peeing on my trees or the fence, he’s usually chasing the few stray or outdoor cats he is able to find on his daily jaunts.
The bird thing bothers me for a number of reasons. One, I have neighbors that shoot bunnies in their yard because they think it’s an acceptable way of “ridding themselves of pests”. They’re looking for food, they don’t know you’re an animal-hating asshole. Two, my brother neglected to tell me that he found a dead squirrel about a week ago when he was spraying for weeds. When I inquired as to why he didn’t tell me as soon as he found it, he said “I didn’t think you needed to know.” I didn’t know I needed coddling. Had I known it was there, I would have called animal control to make sure it was safe to remove it. If I wouldn’t leave a person there, I certainly wouldn’t leave an animal out like that either!
When I did call animal control yesterday to ask if the cat could be trapped, neutered, and released the woman I spoke to actually told me this: Are you ready cat lovers/owners? “All cats are feral.” Excuse me, you crazy bitch?! “It’s the circle of life and all that. Dogs are the only domestic animals in this world.” No, they’re NOT. Besides, I didn’t say I had a tiger in my back yard, you nut job!
While I can easily say that nine times out of ten, it’s the owner and not the dog, I don’t meet a lot of civilized, well-socialized dogs. Some, but not every single one. Family dogs tend to be better and those that receive a boatload of love and attention aren’t OCD about jumping on me, biting, or being aggressive. If a dog can listen to basic training commands, it’s probably not going to come flying down the street in an attempt to jump me. A lot of rescue dogs are traumatized in some way from previous life experience and are in fight or flight mode upon meeting new people, especially if their owners haven’t sought out training or done the training themselves. Dogs require a lot of work, but they’re not the only domesticated animal on this planet.
I’ve had cats my entire life, none of them have ever been feral. For this chick to actually state that as if it’s fact is ignorant as hell. Yes, cats are predators. That’s an actual fact, but I see my almost two year old cat and how completely uninterested she is in “the great outdoors”. You can open a door and she’s not running out into the heat or cold. She sits at the glass doors to the patio and watches the birds, bunnies, squirrels, etc., but she’s more bothered by flying insects than anything else. You should see how she reacts to a bee. Yeah, real feral.
Kitten is still a baby, so everything requires a vocalization and a physical reaction to the presence of other animals. If she comes across something, she will swat at it, she’ll cover it with her paws, but she’s not “going in for the kill”. She’ll certainly let me know something does not belong here and that I need to come and assist her, but she’s not vicious about it. Using the world “feral” to describe every single cat is irresponsible. It’s the kind of idiotic comment one can expect from the inhumane society, who are far more interested in killing for their paychecks then they are in rescuing and adopting an animal out to a good home.
I called a no-kill shelter and explained the situation to them. They don’t have enough manpower to come out and get this cat, so they referred me to another organization that can trap him, get him fully vetted and screened for any potential health issues, and then decide if he can be properly socialized and adopted out to someone. He doesn’t have a collar or a tag, but he’s a purebred cat. I’ve seen him since he was just a few months old, rolling around in my back yard and meowing for attention, but utterly fearless in how he’d watch me for hours. He doesn’t deserve to be put to sleep for being outside utilizing his predatory instincts, but if he’s without a microchip to let the rescue know who he belongs to, then he deserves a good home. If he’s going to be an outdoor cat, it’s safer for him to live with someone who is okay with that and will watch out for him.
It’s highly possible he didn’t kill either animal. However, it’s the most likely conclusion based on previous behavior. I’d rather find out who he belongs to or get him into a situation where he can be in a good home, as opposed to the alternatives. I’d hate for him to get hurt for any reason and I’d hate for anyone with a pulse to harm him, so all I can do is hope that the no-kill rescue gets back to me and that we can set up a trap. It’s way too hot for animals to be outside anyway, and with the expectation of a brutally hot summer, I’d feel better knowing that he’s safe indoors somewhere.
End of bizarre “crazy cat lady” rant.
Have a wonderful start to the weekend everyone!
XO…L
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I Used To Talk To Myself…
Humor on a dark, rainy morning.
Utterly Useless
Hello everyone! I’m sorry that I’ve been completely and utterly useless for the last few days, which explains my lack of posts. I got slammed by allergies and haven’t really been able to function a whole lot. The shift into Spring is difficult for those of us with allergies, especially if you live on the East Coast and you’re experiencing the incredibly odd shift each day. The nights are either cold or mild, the days are mild, warm, sometimes way too hot, and if the pollen count is high, forget it. There is nothing consistent about this, it’s all incredibly random. This time around, my allergies are seemingly pet related. I’m not giving cat and kitten to someone else, so I just have to suck it up. Clawing at my face and eyes all day isn’t exactly a clear picture of who I am, so I think it’s best to handle it and get on with my life. I’m fine, until the Benadryl wears off. Basically that means I’m fine, so long as I am knocked out on Benadryl and resting, to some extent. My eye drops haven’t been very helpful either, which makes me grouchy. In my attempt to “make it better”, I obsessively laundered every single thing either of them has touched or slept on that could affect me, because naturally they both insist on fussing over my things and only sleeping on their own when convenient. I discovered one additional item this morning. If I contemplate it for too long, I will end up in an allergists’ office demanding allergy shots. Alas, it can take years for those to work, if they work at all.
If it hasn’t been killer allergies, it’s been other things keeping my “under the weather”, for lack of a better expression. I simply do not feel right these days. My Fibromyalgia has been so bad that I feel bruised, achy, and sore from the top of my spine down to my calves. The sparring I did Sunday night resulted in a bruised right hand from a knuckle on knuckle hit. Properly job is apparently equals out to “more pain”. Unfortunately, it’s one of the few things I can do for several hours that doesn’t make me want to rip my limbs off. I have to chalk that up to a cruel joke.
Beyond that, there’s really not much to report or say. I am working on some ideas, letting them stew. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day for what I want and need to do, especially when I feel like crap. This, I suspect, is the chronic fatigue aspect of Fibromyalgia that often rears its ugly head when you’ve done too much in a short period of time. It certainly explains my intense desire to take naps when I normally power through the afternoons with writing or editing projects.
Here’s hoping all of this passes soon and that I can return to status quo. Pain is still pain, but sleeping like a coma patient and acting like a zombie the rest of the time is disturbing.
I hope your week is turning out to be far more productive. Just don’t brag if it is. No one appreciates a smart ass. 😛
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Stand Up For Your Cats
I am the first person to admit that I am not married and I currently have a cat who will turn two later this year and a nine month old kitten. Cats are far more independent animals than dogs, but they’re also my spirit animal to some extent. I’m definitely NOT stereotypical.
Long Days, Short Nights
The days are way too long. The nights are too fucking short. Sleep is hard to come by, but man, I’m trying. I was raised to believe that doing your best is “enough”, providing it is truly “your best”.
I suffer from “Superwoman Syndrome”. This is a real thing. I’m an overachiever that has this unbelievable difficulty asking for help. Perhaps it stems from constantly being stabbed in the back when I HAVE asked for help in the past, or because people like to throw things in your face as if they are owed something. “I was there for you when…” are probably not wise words to hurl in my direction. If I’m there for someone, it is genuine, and I don’t have to say “I told you so.” years down the road. If you don’t want to be there for someone, don’t be, but that’s on you.
Fibromyalgia makes life harder than it needs to be. I used to be able to walk for miles on end, doing countless things along the way, and then walk back. It was never a big deal. Now, I actually have to gather strength to run errands and take care of very basic needs. It’s pathetic. And the last thing in the world I need is for anyone to point it out to me, as if I don’t already know that I’m slow. “We just went without you because we didn’t want to wait three hours for you to get ready.” NICE. Yes, that’s sarcasm.
Even without Fibromyalgia, I was already a pretty isolated individual. I had (and still have) a very small group of close friends and my family. I spent my days writing and editing, and I still do. It’s not the kind of thing I do in public. I’m an introverted extrovert. The people that see me work my ass off are cat and kitten, they know Mommy’s working. Pretty much everyone else thinks I do absolutely nothing, because I’m very quiet and they rarely see me. When you don’t do what everyone else does in terms of “normal”, people automatically make wild assumptions. It would be very nice indeed to do absolutely nothing. Attach a six figure salary to that and I will sign up immediately. Shit, I’d love to do “nothing” by spending my days at the mall, or the bookstore, or any number of places that I haven’t been in the last four years, or longer.
The most important thing to me now is having emotional support. I’m going into some horrific, tough battles and all I really want is to be heard, understood, and cared about. I’d rather a person not have the right words, and say a prayer for me.
There are no heroes in this. I have my Superwoman cape and I’m not giving it back, but all kidding aside, being supported means a great deal to me. The simple fact that I’m asking for it shows me that I’ve grown. Help and support, that’s all I need at the moment.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
It’s Friday, Let’s Celebrate!
I have no idea why Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have become my favorite days of the week, but lately, I just can’t handle week days. Does anyone else feel like this?
I’ve had a rough week. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have required way more sleep than any single person my age should need (Still young, still fabulous. 😛 ). I work and then I look at the time, realizing that I’ve done a lot in short bursts of time, but that now that I’ve gotten work done, it’s time to close my eyes “for a little while”. The next thing I know, the day is over. I wake up from that brief little “nap”, check the time, and my cat and kitten are wrapped around each other. Apparently some kind of love fest goes on when I’m down for the count. I almost always have to be in bed and half asleep or completely out of it before they go into “love mode”.
Passive, sweet cat. Troublesome, but incredibly loving kitten. (You can see their photos on my About page.) They’re good for each other and they’re good for me, because without them, I wouldn’t get out of bed at all. There are many mornings when they’re both pacing around me, marking my face with theirs (kitten does this), to encourage me to go downstairs and give them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, they start bringing toys into the bed. I have no idea where either of them are, but I know that if the food is not delivered in a timely fashion, they will try to curry my favor with gifts. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve both placed gifts in my bathtub as a reminder, as if I’ve ever forgotten to feed them.
I’m VERY lucky, they’re relatively well-behaved and sweet. They’ve got attitude, but mostly, they know that they are loved and safe. When I’m in a terrible amount of pain, one or both of them will get into bed as soon as I’m comfortable and either lay by my feet or by my head, and they do not move until they see me calm down and fall asleep, and even then, I still wake up with them close by. There is a sweetness to that which makes me emotional at times. My cat is a lot less openly loving than my kitten, but I have a bond with both of them and I see how they call for me and come to visit me when I’m working. Basically, I get treated like one of them. Perhaps this is why they often place toys under my butt and then try to bite me awake. Sassy’s been doing this since she was a baby, and at 19 months, it wasn’t that long ago that she was the ruler of the roost and tiny, aggressively shoving me awake and demanding food constantly. Now that there are two little beasts, I have them on a schedule. She’s no longer interested in most games (my little one wants to play, but also self-entertains), but is happy to bite my feet or grab my ankle for a nip if she’s feel froggy.
Now that Miss Sass has a constant playmate, she’s no longer ripping me to shreds and biting me. Her breed isn’t known for a lot of verbal communication, so she spent ten months aggressively hurting me several times a day until I found her the perfect little companion. It was NOT love at first sight. It took about a week or so, and they slowly became obsessed with each other. Mini is also incredibly obsessed with me, but she’s still a baby.
☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤
What else is going on? Oh, yes! Because I’m a total hypocrite (And honest enough to admit it.), I am back on Facebook. My original account is still up in the air. Facebook and I have exchanged countless e-mails, and nothing has been worked out, so I waited a while and established a new account. I intentionally linked it to my cell phone which somehow authenticates that I am indeed a “real person” and not the countless things I was accused of in all of their e-mails back in January. If you want to pal around with me, let me know and I will send you my new hypocritical info.
Speaking of which, Facebook has changed quite a bit since I was gone. I am pretty sure someone peed in everyone’s coffee this morning because for every 30 people who liked something I said, I had one person go ballistic. To avoid future problems, I’m keeping a low profile. However, when subjects are open for discussion and you don’t know a person, I think it’s crucial not to call them “OCD” or “rude”, especially since you’re clearly not understanding the context. I was called both this morning by two absolute idiots. Mind you, gutless wonders like to hide behind their computers and spew horse shit.
My first thought was “Go fuck yourself!”, but I decided not to lower myself to their levels. Second, throwing obsessive compulsive disorder around as some sort of joke or insult is incredibly rude, and when one is not a healthcare professional, one has no right to say that to someone they do not know and have never met. That actually IS rude. Disagreeing with someone isn’t rude, we’re all entitled to do so.
I’m a supportive writer. I’m going to be honest, polite, and concise because that’s how I am. I’ve NEVER been rude on Facebook or any form of social media that I am aware of. If anyone has ever read my work and deemed me rude, then that was YOUR perception and not the facts. I’m not Ms. Sweetness & Light, I do not throw rainbows at you, nor do I shoot sugared unicorns when one deserves venom.
There is a fine line between sharing thoughts and being a bitch. I don’t bring out the bitch side unless it is warranted and I don’t do it on Facebook because I have a professional reputation to uphold. If I wouldn’t say something to your face, then I certainly wouldn’t say it behind your back or in a public forum. That’s not how I operate.
People like to throw my astrological sign into play in their “defense” quite a bit, but the truth is, I’m a pretty controlled Scorpio female. I might not always have been, but I learned a long time ago to get the negative aspects under control or they would control me. Lesson learned, and once broken of those habits, I did not return to them.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That’s a load of shit. Words can hurt, they do hurt, and people throw them out there like it’s no big deal. I’m known for my “say anything” policy, but there ARE things I absolutely won’t say because I have morals, dignity, manners, self-respect, and boundaries. Some things are so below the belt that you simply don’t go there. You can think them, but then you must let them go because that kind of negativity breeds more negativity, and it’s unhealthy.
More and more, people are offended by anything and everything, but they care little for who THEY might offend. They have no manners or coping mechanisms for difference of opinion or basic relationship skills. Junior high school drama wasn’t cute in junior high school, and I won’t tolerate it as an adult. By all means, disagree with me. That’s fine. If you don’t know the context in which I mean something, don’t assume, ask. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Overall, I’m glad to have the account for my cousins and the few real friends I have, and for specific things that I’ve discussed here many times, but outside of that, I realize that I don’t miss it and that it’s a terrible waste of time. Who knew I’d grow to love Twitter?! By the way, thank you Lillian for suggesting it, and for clearly being a friend to me when others are full of crap (Link to her blog is attached to her name.). You go away for less than two months and you actually find out who your REAL friends & family are, both on and off social media. How utterly pathetic. True colors are shining bright and a lot of people are chicken-shit yellow. C’est la vie.
Also, there is a brand new blog, started by one of my best friends, that I am going to be interviewed for. I will make sure the link goes up ASAP.
And on that note, I hope you all have a lovely weekend. If you’re an NCAA fan, I hope you’re cheering for my team tonight in the Sweet 16. 🙂 GO DUKE!
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Felines Of New York
This should lighten the mood for many of you. I was once asked why I went to North Shore Animal League to adopt two kittens when I could have gone someplace local. My response was “I’m from New York. I want cats with attitude.” 😉 Of course, as I speak, there’s more attitude in my house than necessary. People talk about certain types of cats having more personality or attitude than others, and they’re right. However, I would not trade that in for anything.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 