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Blogs have taken a back seat lately, there have been days that my laptop hasn't even been turned on. GASP! That's unheard of! It would be great to say I've been off on some wonderful vacation or brokering world peace or something, but the truth is - I've been geeking out on Instagram. I know. I'm late to ALL the parties.
Yes I follow all kinds of cat people, shabby chic people, and pretty photos people. There are a sprinkling of celebrities, and yes my own gallery is chock full of kitty pictures too. But what gives me pause is when some young girl likes one of my pictures so I look at her photos
You can't SEE me!
to see if there is anything to like in return.
It's appalling to see how many young girls (high school, probably) post suggestive pictures of themselves on the Internet and social media. Oh yes they have clothes on, and no they aren't usually outright lewd. But these girls seem to have the objective of looking attractive -- by looking as sexy as they can online. What happened to innocence? Self respect? The sad thing is - my view would be considered totally out of step, un-hip and out of touch. Because so much of that behavior has become the norm. The young boys? Picture after picture of them holding their phones while they take pictures of their baby 6-packs in the mirror. It's all about the physical.
I remember being in high school, I remember being young. I remember wanting people to stop being so uptight about things and thinking - anything goes - as long as you
Another cat in a box
aren't hurting anyone else.
But then I grew up.
Now I know that as a society we do need rules. Not about whether or not we can eat trans-fats or drink uber large cups of sugary pop. We need to bring back a conscience. Not a conscience that says we should tolerate everything and everyone but a conscience that makes us have some basic sense of right and wrong, good and bad, and for God's sake there should be some boundaries for behavior where not every single thing is acceptable because we don't want to judge someone else.
Apple blossoms from my back yard.
Hyper-tolerance and political correctness have made it very difficult for ordinary folks to look at something and say - I don't agree with that. I think that's wrong. Even when they do feel that way. There is no balance anymore and we are sliding so far in one direction that I wonder if we can ever get back to center again.
And no, when I see those young girls who like a picture of one of my cats, I cannot bring myself to like one of their photos in return. Somehow that would be tacit approval of how they are presenting themselves.
Can't do it. Won't do it. And what those girls represent makes me incredibly sad.
Well not exactly. But when I got nothin' - I still want to post something. And I want to give it a clever title and all that so I'm going to title those posts "When I got nothin'". Clever, right? And then I'm going to give you a little piece of wisdom, sarcasm, cuteness or something. Anything! Because it's not pretty when I got nothin', so here - here is .. something. Enjoy.
Yes, I am a chronic over-sharer. But it's not what you think. The bathroom was Jake's domain. Most of the time she would get to the bathroom before I would, stay in there while I was there, or would be demanding to get in if I hadn't left the door cracked. But I usually did. And somehow now closing the door feels wrong, feels like I'm shutting Jakie out, even though I know she's gone.
Jake was a drinker, a faucet drinker for as long as I can remember. And since I couldn't leave the water running all the time, a cup on the bathroom counter would serve as a poor substitute she grudgingly drank from when she needed to.
In the last year she started sleeping in the bathroom or just outside of it, to the point where I put her bed in the hallway outside the bathroom door. Her diabetes and apparent renal issues stepped up her obsession with running water and she stayed as close as she could all the time.
With her sides shaved so I could more easily give her injections.
But sometimes when I went into the bathroom to use it for it's intended purpose, ahem, Jakie would come in and instead of jumping up to get water she would stand and look at me until I picked her up. I would hold her in my lap and pet her, sometimes just wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She was so tiny in the last couple of years, and she was the one kitty I could actually hug, hold, and carry with her head on my shoulder like a baby. We had quality time in that bathroom, she and I. And now every time I walk down that hallway, she isn't jumping up to beat me to the bathroom. She isn't yelling at me if I pass her by without turning in or stopping to pet her or at least reach in and turn on the water.
She just isn't there.
My head knows that letting Jake go was the right thing to do. But oh how my heart misses my little girl kitty who was named like a boy. And it's going to take me a while to get past the weepy stage when I must visit her favorite place several times a day.