What do your parents do if you have a loose bowel movement?
Ruby's Answer: At some point, all of them
: I liked to think of myself as a big deal when I crossed over, and the hundreds of friends who met me confirmed it. But, my celebration looked modest regarding the reception my friend Brian received when he crossed into Blogville.
Brian is a leader in the cat world and the mortal Blogosphere. Cat blogging is even more popular than one that features dogs, and Brian's blog is a can't-miss for all his loyal fans. He leads a large pack of cats, all with different attitudes and problems, but Brian keeps them in line.
But most of all, Brian was a heart cat, capturing his parent's affection like no other. His fame meant nothing to him; all he wanted was the companionship of his favorite humans. He gave them the greatest gift: to feel loved, to have their heart full, to know that, to Brian, they were his world.
It's the way we pets look at you, with all the devotion heaven will allow, that parents miss the most. Those eyes say everything will be okay; you are loved and not alone. I hope Brain's parents can find that with their pact or any new members. People have a hard enough time surviving; without that look, it makes every day darker and more complicated.
I always thought taking Brian from the mortal world would be something huge. But, as is often the way, it is the most minor thing to take her hero down, an infected tooth that spread to his lungs. He was suffering, so his parents took all his pain and sorrow onto themselves, freeing him from being in pain forever. It is the way our parents repay us for their love.
Brian felt everything that hurt and scared him disappear in the River of Life. He scampered out and crossed the Bridge. He still felt sad, leaving so much behind, but the Bridge doesn't let you feel poorly for long. There is too much love all around for that.
Brian was cheered and feted like a conquering hero. He had lived his life defining what it meant to be a cat. Brian made sure he thanked everyone who had come out for him.
Then, he was shown a mansion he had earned for being a cat above and beyond others. Brian thanked everyone and said he would wait for his parents to come home, and until then, he would lie on a sofa waiting for them, looking out the big bay window at the frolicking angels.
Brian should wait for his parents because he never wanted to be anything more than a family cat.
His doing it better than anyone else means little to him.
The rubs, scratches, and soft pets, and he will wait when his parents reunite with him, and sit in the overstuffed chairs in the mansion, Brian on their lap, purring, while watching the sunrise on a perfect day.
This has been the strangest autumn in New England.
Columbus Day means leaf-peeking, sweater-wearing, buttoning down the garden, and retreating inside to sit by the fire and discuss the Patriot’s Super Bowl chances.
This year the Patriots suck, and many flowers have bloomed again
.
The New Guinea Impatiens were wilting in early September. They were moved from a hook by our porch to under a tree to get water. The Impatiens soon rebloomed, and it looks like it does in June,
The impatiens in Foley’s Garden developed root rot, and only a couple survived. They are usually dog up in mid-September and replaced with Chrysthamums, but they rallied and spread, covering the area where the plants that succumbed to illness were.
The Asian virgin bower by the lamppost had rotted in late August and was cut back to the ground. Mid-September, it began to grow again and has rebloomed.
The small Siebold’s plantation lily by the fake rock hiding the ugly stump was deadheaded three weeks ago and rebloomed.
The Shasta Daises in the front garden are still going strong long after they would have normally been deadheaded.
We bought a couple of Chrysatnthums pots and placed them in front of the Foley’s garden.
Everything else in the gardens is different this Columbus Day, so it is good to have consistent Chrysthanamum
I know winter is coming, and all the plants will go to sleep, but this year, summer has encroached deep into autumn.
Or perhaps it will be an endless summer.
That would be fine with me.
Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.
This is not about the photo per se
But about my Daddy’s family, the Gays
And something that happened on Thanksgiving night
After which no one was right
Grampa had his old desk in the basement
And Daddy’s little desk needed a replacement
The desk downstairs was huge and heavy
It weighed as much as the motor in a Chevy
Against all good reason
Or perhaps the food had caused them to experience the silly season
On Thanksgiving night, they decided to move the desk
And the entire day, they did wreck
They tipped it over.
And when they pushed it up the cellar stairs, they thought they were in Clover
But on the way to the second floor
An impediment: A frame that had been used to hold a door.
The desk was stuck by an inch on each side
But Grampa was a man of great pride
“All we have to do is tip it,” he said
“But, it wont fit,” his son pled
Grandpa yelled, “Tip it to the right.”
But the legs hit the wall, which were too tight
Grandpa yelled, “Tip it to the left!”
“It won’t fit!” my Dad yelled bereft.
And that is where they stayed for more than an hour
My Dad was holding the desk at the top, running out of power
His Dad yelled to tip it this way and that
Ignoring his son, who, if he let go, would see his Dad go splat
There to witness were Daddy’s mom, sister and Nana
Sister took the latter home when she said, “this place is bananas.”
She returned after dropping Nana off.
ButI couldn’t go upstairs to bed being blocked by two humans and a desk in a standoff.
For the next 20 minutes, his family begged Grampy to stop
While he yelled at my Daddy to tip it from the top
Finally, after many threats from his wife, he did relent
And back in the basement, the desk was sent.
Physically and emotionally spent
Daddy wanted to go to bed and scream into his pillow to vent
When on the way, his Dad caught him in a clinch
And made it worse by saying no man wants to lose by an inch
This poem comes with a postscript
A week later, Daddy, in the cellar, took the desk and made it flip
And that is when he noticed the top was screwed on
And by the time Grampy got home from work in the cellar, the desk was gone
He went upstairs and saw it in his son’s room
And said, “you had help,” which he did assume
But Daddy sat at the desk and didn’t make a sound
He thought, “Maybe someday I will tell him,” but that day never came round
Is there anything you hear on the television that gets your attention?
Whenever I hear "Emu, Emu, and Mike," I lift my head up and watch the commercial until it is over
The truth be told, Gladys still made Henry's heart glow. She was no longer a young dog. They no longer spent their nights on the go. The...
