I've changed the title back to "I Don't Understand", now that it's available again. It's more appropriate (although "I Don't Approve!" might be even better).
(Note: The number in the post title is a sequence number, having nothing to do with contents.)
The world of internet cute dogs has been taken over entirely by corgies, pugs, and little yappers whose tongues don't fit in their mouths. The cat territory now belongs to malformed felines --- cats with insanely stubby legs, or whose noses are so squashed they can't breathe properly, or who have devastating birth defects. Something's wrong here. I don't understand. .
Saturday, February 21, 2015 People who are stupid,
unskilled, or incompetent are frequently too stupid, unskilled, or
incompetent to realize how stupid, unskilled, or incompetent they
really are. That's basically known as the Dunning-Kruger Effect.
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Did you know that cats reserve open-mouth meows for when addressing humans? They never meow to each other, or to anything else, or for any other reason. Just to humans. It's like they invented a whole language especially for talking to us! And every cat speaks it.
I've had cats pretty much all my life, and I'd never noticed that, but now, yeah, come to think of it, it seems true. I wonder how they learn that. Mother cats talk to their kittens in a closed-mouth sort of "mmmmrrrrrrrr", which is sort of almost but not quite a meow. Perhaps cats consider humans equivalent to hearing-impaired kittens.
Thoughts?
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I'm writing this on my little tablet, because a few days ago the Wifi finder and hooker upper thingy on my laptop stopped finding and hooking up, and finally it simply declared it no longer existed. As far as I'm concerned, no Internet = brick. Monday I'll take it in for service.
In the meantime, the tablet (or whatever Sony calls it). Onscreen keyboard. switching back and forth for numbers letters punctuation. Bleck. I had bought a wonderful little Bluetooth keyboard for it that worked beautifully, but I can't seem to get it to charge this time, so that also will get a checkup on Monday.
Sigh. And it's snowing. Again.
I've had a cold that seems to swap back and forth from nose/throat to sinuses to throat only and through the cycle again. Bad cough for two days, then slight cough with severe body aches for two days, then all fine except for hot throat for two days, then start the cycle again. No fever at all so far, but today I've got a new one --- my voice is completely gone. I have nothing above a whisper.
Since about 9th grade, and excepting college, I've had dogs and/or cats.
Cats are easy to leave. They can easily be left for two overnights if they will eat dry food, longer if they are youngish and healthy and mellow. They just sleep all day while I'm gone. They need a visiting nanny or boarding only if they aren't healthy, or if it's for more than a weekend or so.
Dogs can't be left for more than a few hours unless they are smart enough to use the cat's litter box. They can't be trusted with more than one meal's worth of food, because they'll just eat it all in one gulp, or destroy the timed feeder if you try to use it, and then throw the excess up on your bed. And they get bored, and then destructive. So visiting nannies won't be enough. Dogs need boarding.
I have a history of pet sitting and boarding horror stories.
I asked a friend, Barbara, to feed my cat Smokey while I was away for five days, when I lived in Gettysburg. Smokey ate only canned food, so she needed a visit once a day. Now, Smokey sometimes wouldn't eat for the first day that I was away, and I told Barbara that. That's normal with some cats. When I returned, I found a food dish full of rotted food, crawling with maggots, and a very desperate cat who wouldn't let me out of her sight for days after.
I asked Barbara what had happened. She said she'd fed Smokey the first day, and when she went back the second day the food hadn't been touched, so she figured rather than throw it out she'd leave it, and "When the cat got hungry enough, she'd eat it." She didn't even go in after that because she could see the dish through the window and apparently Smokey hadn't been hungry. Of course, I was furious.
(This, by the way, is the same woman who later chased me with a knife, seriously trying to kill me, because she KNEW I had been messing with her husband. Actually, it was another woman with my same first name, and when she asked her husband if it was me, he said yes because he didn't want her to know it was actually his ex-wife, whom Barbara hated. The idiot guy thought that since she and I were friends, it would be ok. Gettysburg had some seriously wacked-out people.)
So the next time I went away, I asked Jeanie to feed Smokey. The very first day Jeanie visited, when she opened the door, Smokey burst out and ran off. Jeanie searched and called and couldn't find her. Smokey was gone. Jeanie actually moved into my house so she'd be there if Smokey returned. She called and searched for the next several days, and left food outside the door, and it was eaten, but she didn't know by whom. Even though she was watching, she never saw Smokey. When I returned, I drove into the parking area, and Smokey greeted me when I opened the car door. Apparently, she had been out searching for me for days. Jeanie was so relieved, and I appreciated Jeanie's efforts.
After that, I boarded my cat(s). I found some really good places over the years, like that woman who had what looked like little motel rooms, with climbing shelves and cubby holes, and a window at floor level with bird feeders outside, and in a pinch I boarded at the vet's. The cat would spend the night in a cage at the vet, but during the day she had the run of the office. Smokey liked that.
Later a friend clued me in - if you're using an amateur pet-sitter, get like three and rotate their days. That way if one of them screws up, or even two, it's not a disaster.
Dogs were harder. I found so many kennels that looked good at first, but I always sensed something wrong when I'd pick the dog(s) up. Something "off".
One time I returned a day earlier than scheduled, and decided to pick up the two dogs then, straight from the airport (pre-cell phone days, so no call ahead). I arrived at the kennel and asked for my dogs. The kid at the desk hemmed and hawed, and said I couldn't get them until tomorrow. I insisted, saying that of course I was willing to pay for the extra day, no problem, please get my dogs now. He said he couldn't, and when I asked why, he said they needed grooming. I said no problem, I don't need them groomed, please go get them now. I finally had to get angry and point out that they were MY dogs, and you CAN'T keep them! I want them RIGHT NOW, or I'm calling the cops!
Well, I got them. Their dog beds were wet, stinking of urine, and coated with wet and dried feces. So were the dogs. Poop was caked on their hips and sides. It was obvious they'd been walking and lying in poop. It was awful! This explained why when I'd left them there on two previous occasions, they smelled of shampoo when I picked them up, and their beds had been freshly washed and dried.
That was the last time they stayed there.
The dogs were in an inside "room" with a door to an outside pen, which was supposed to be open all day, but apparently they didn't get outside very often. I know this because Puppy (yes, that was her name - long story) was a fastidious Australian Kelpie, and never eliminated on anything but grass or dirt. She wouldn't even go on concrete or asphalt. So for her to have gone inside the concrete-floored room, she must have been desperate.
One thing I have learned: If you go to check out a kennel, and the owners will not allow you to actually see the areas where the animals are kept ("Oh, no, strangers walking through will upset the dogs. We don't allow anyone back there except the workers."), then run fast away. A good kennel with nothing to hide will escort you through, or at least allow a look (and sniff) through a door. When the dogs see you accompanied by a familiar face, they are curious, they might bark, but they're not "upset".
Well, I almost forgot what day it is -- until about ten minutes ago when the neighborhood erupted into WWIII. There are fireworks on all sides, and we're talking about the big chrysanthemums and boomers. The seriously not-in-the-backyard stuff. The rattle your windows stuff. The sky is lighting up.
So I checked the internet.
Yup, personal unlicensed fireworks of any type, including the little sparklers, are highly illegal in NJ. According to the announcement from this county, they've got additional police on tonight, and they are serious about arresting and confiscating. There's a large fine and jail time involved, and they "intend to prosecute everyone they catch". That's what the county says.
Yeah. Sure.
I've never seen this kind of blatant civil disobedience at the country house. A few teenagers with cherry bombs, occasionally. Nothing like this.
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I entertained the Nugget this morning while her parents packed the car. They've gone to Pennsylvania to visit the other set of grandparents. I get to feed their cats tomorrow.
Normally, cats are good alone with dry food for like three days. But they have two small timid females, and one huge fat bruiser of a (ex)male, Titus. If they put out three days of food for three cats, Titus will eat it ALL the first evening. Damn hog. Me, I'd separate and confine them to their own areas, and if Titus ate all his own food, he'd just have to live off his fat for the rest of the time.
So anyway, I'll go over tomorrow and put out one day's food for three cats, and stand there so Poli (Titus's tiny antisocial sister) and Schmeck (very tiny, extremely shy, at least 15 years old, never leaves the master bedroom except to use the litter box) get a chance at it, knowing that as soon as I leave, Titus will raid all three dishes.
In my March 26 post, I asked if any rich or famous people had died waiting for a transplant - name one. (See also this post for the explanation as to why rich people rarely wait too long). A commenter pointed out that Robert Goulet had died waiting for a lung. I just found out that he died exactly one month after a diagnosis of idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. He very likely wasn't strong enough for transplant within two or three weeks of the diagnosis, and didn't have the time or strength to travel to get on more than one or two lists, so ... I don't think that counts. My challenge stands.
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Contrary to the advice I give others, I almost adopted another stray cat last week.
Three days in a row a young, probably no more than 5 months old, unaltered male tabby visited my front porch. He was absolutely beautiful! A rich reddish gold and cream swirl-type tabby with enormous dark gold eyes that matched his coat perfectly. Pink nose. He was very friendly, allowed petting, and he was very very thin. His little waistline was pinched. Otherwise looked healthy. No collar.
I offered him some dry food, and he gobbled it up. Three days in a row he visited briefly in mid-afternoon, ate some kibble, sat with me on the glider while I read, and then went off to explore. I seriously considered adopting him as a strictly outdoor kitty. I was planning his vet visit and collar color and tag info and everything.
On the fourth day I saw some young teen girls walking up the road. One of them was carrying MY cat. He now had a collar on. He seemed perfectly happy, rubbing his cheek on her neck.
Saved by the belle.
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My back is still complaining, but not at all like over the weekend. I can sit, stand, and walk just fine, but I get warnings when I lift things or bend wrong. It'll be ok.
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Wow. Ten days since my last post. I'm really slowing down here. No reason, just lazy, I think.
Things that have amused me:
An envelope arrived in the mail today with "SECURED DOCUMENT", "OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE", and "PERSONAL & CONFIDENTIAL" in bold emblazoned across the front, above and below the address printed inside the gray block designed to prevent peeking through the envelope, between the tear strips designed to prevent opening and resealing the envelope. Super important looking. Addressed to [my name] or current resident.
I figure it's actually for the house, not me, so I won't open it.
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Remember the "Nova" automobile, and how it generated laughs because in Spanish, it means "No Go"? Well, there's a line of haircare products named "Wen". I guess whoever named it doesn't know what a wen is.
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Today I overhead someone telling another person to calm down and shut up. She said, "Turn your off button on."
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I found this chart showing the relative depth of lakes and ocean trenches, and how deep various animals and submersibles can go: http://xkcd.com/1040/. Click on the chart to enlarge it so you can read the labels. I am amazed that sperm whales and turtles need to breathe air, so how can they go so deep? They must come up fast!
At one point, Steve asks Sylvester to teach the kitten to talk. Sylvester teaches Gibson only two words: "Help!" and "Todd". Steve wonders who Todd is, it's driving him crazy, but Sylvester won't tell him. Warning - Sylvester swears a lot, to the point where Shelby the lab starts to think "Bitch" is her (Shelby's) name.
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I read this headline, "Giant, feathered dinosaur remains discovered in China", and for many moments I thought, "Well of course. When you discover something, it does tend to remain discovered."
Told ya I tend to read literally.
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This video is for The Queen. My sister sent the link to me.
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I took statistics courses three, maybe four, times, and I still don't understand it. Makes no sense to me. I always thought the course should have been titled "How To Make Any Set of Numbers Mean Anything You Want Them To". However, I still know the difference between correlation and causation. So statements in "news" articles like "Another reason to floss every day: New York University researchers found that people who floss infrequently are three times more likely to develop stomach cancer" make my head hurt.
And I bet people who wear baggy shorts are three times more likely to get the ball through the hoop than are people who wear argyle socks.
The latest perversion was today, when I heard that the autism rate is rising, and the number of women who are overweight when they are pregnant is rising, therefore obesity during pregnancy causes autism.
Duh? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. That is an extremely loose correlation, not evidence of causation. "Helicopter parenting" is on the rise too, so is that also a cause?
It might make more sense if they tracked the children of women of various weights, and then they'd have to look at other factors common to women in various weight groups. I hate when sloppy "scientists" make things sound so simple.
Explore! Go to http://maps.google.com/, and search for "Ulan Bator, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia", and then click on the satellite view. Fascinating, eh? The main drag is Ghengis Khan Avenue, N-S. Note that many of the homes are walled, and have some kind of round structure in the yard. I'm wondering if they are yurts, or water tanks.
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I signed up for the local township government newsletter email. Stuff like board meeting minutes, activities, news, police blotters, and so on. The top part has either a link to a topic or a short announcement, followed by boilerplate.
Received last month:
Top part - NOTICE TO ALL RESIDENTS - [xxxx] Township Water Department will discontinue service for unpaid utility bills as of March 5th, 2012.
Boilerplate - We hope you enjoy this Township e-Bulletin for residents.
I laughed.
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I'm literal, remember? You really don't want to know the mental image I get when someone (using the wrong word!) describes something as "heart rendering".
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I put some peanuts, in shells, on the porch railing for the squirrels and for Jasper's entertainment. Then I went to the Wawa (I hate that name) to get some Greek yogurt. I was gone maybe 20 minutes.
When I returned, all my potted impatiens had been dug up, and a peanut planted in each pot.
Ok squirrels. No more nuts for you!
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There's a very ballsy black feral cat who visits my back yard and scares the beans out of Jasper when they see each other at the window. Last night Jasper was on the dining room window sill when the black cat visited and startled him.
There was an explosion.
There was a traverse rod on the floor under that window, waiting for curtains to be chosen. You know, the kind with all the cords?
Well, when Jasper exploded from the window sill, he got tangled in the cords somehow, and in his panic he dragged the heavy rod out of the dining room, across the breakfast area floor, knocking over a stool which scared him more. The 7-foot long rod somehow got airborne going over the stool, came down on his food tray 6 feet further on, spilling his food and water all over the floor, and it then jammed in the hall doorway, with one end somehow stuck behind my desk. The other end knocked Roomba off his power base and turned him on, and with a "ta beep ta bah" Roomba took off after Jasper, who tore down the hall and up the stairs, trailing traverse cords the whole way.
The whole thing happened in an instant. All was quiet, and then suddenly three rooms were destroyed. Jasper is now afraid of the dining room. Poor timid little chicken. He did not have a good night.
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I'd been considering befriending and semi-adopting that black cat, but you know, somehow I don't think it would work out. .
The kitten went to the vet yesterday for his first checkup.
He's definitely a "he", so the name Daughter has been using, "Titus", fits.
He's at least 8 weeks old.
He weighs 2 lb 2 oz.
FIV and Leukemia tests are negative.
His ears are clean, no mites.
He was frightened, but was a perfect gentleman.
Daughter reports he has calmed down, purrs and plays now, accepts her as his new Mommy.
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I have mentioned that a characteristic of Maine Coon Cats is their "chupping" when they're watching prey they can't get to, like outside a window.
This is not a Maine Coon (unless it's a very young one, or has some Coon in its background), and it's watching a moth. It's a good example of the chupping.
