Saturday, January 23, 2010


As defined in the Urban Dictionary, coo-gher, an older woman who's primary interest lies in bedding younger men.

A few months ago I adopted a male kitten from the Spay and Neuter task force. After much mental debate I named him BooDuh. He seems to like the name, because when I ask, "Where's BooDuh?", his head pops up. BooDuh started out his life abandoned with his litter mates, living under a mobile home. He is part Manx, called a Longie, because he has a tail. His brother and sister did not have tails at all.

I am NOT a cat person. I thought I could become a cat person, but ah nope, not. I like BooDuh as a living being. He's funny as heck, smart as a whip and cute as a babies behind. But, he has not convinced me cats are the way to go. To that end I will forever be a dog person. (I didn't get a dog because the place I live is too small for a dog.) That is not to say I will get rid of BooDuh. Nope, I've grown attached to the little guy. I've told him we will grow old together, he with no claws and teeth, and me with many scars.

Even though BooDuh is the first cat I have ever had, (if you have read previous posts about Patch I should tell you he was a feral, barn cat, not an indoor, or tame cat). I did have my own idea about cats. I believe cats are to be kept indoors. I don't want to be gifted with a dead bird, or other outside critter he might want to bring in. I also know there are a lot of coyotes and dogs running around that would love to have a BooDuh snack. I used to think it was wrong to de-claw cats. I have a few too many bloody moments and scars to feel that way anymore.

The concept of BooDuh being an indoor cat seems to be a hard one for him to grasp. He goes to the door and meows. This is how the conversation goes...

BooDuh, "I want out."
Me, "Nope."
BooDuh, "Why?"
Me, "Because you are an indoor cat."
BooDuh, "What idiot thought up that idea?"
Me, "I'm not an idiot, get away from the door!"

I told you he was smart.

My neighbor has an older, female cat named Precious. Precious is allowed to roam the neighborhood. Poor BooDuh has to sit in the window and watch her, sigh. The other day Precious came in the yard, and jumped up on my picnic table. As she sat there, BooDuh jumped up on the back of a chair and looked out at her. It was a cute, Kodak moment. I took a picture. Then I warned BooDuh about Precious. I told him she is an older, female cat, and he is just too little a boy to be around a cougar.

Monday, January 18, 2010

The end of an era?

Have you driven on US Highway 2, out of Kalispell lately, and seen a white SUV stopped along the side of the road? It was me. Did you look in your rear view mirror and notice the white SUV pull back out on the road, only to move a short distance and pull off again? Yep, it was still me. I have been having car trouble. Serious stuff anyplace, for sure. Just think, I live at the top of a 6% grade:0(

Back in 1994, I bought a brand spankin' new Honda Passport. It was a must, because my Siberian husky, Bandit, was too big for my Honda Civic 4 door. You should have seen his face when I brought it home. He looked at me, and looked at the truck and looked me, as if to ask, "Wow, is that for me to ride in?" It was. Ride in it we did, on long road trips, short road trips, and all over the country road trips, (it got me the 1500 miles to Montana).

Our favorite going down the highway game was fetch. No, I didn't throw the ball out the window and make him catch up to me. I would throw the ball to the very back, and Bandit would jump over the seat backs to get the ball. Then, he would drop it on the driver's seat for another round. (Dangerous you might think! Maybe, but I didn't have to watch where I threw the ball, so I kept my eyes on the road.) The truck has a bench seat, and on our trips Bandit would put his head on my lap and fall asleep. Or, he would stand on the back seat, resting his front legs on the back of the driver's seat, and watch where we were going. Ah, the memories.

I took my truck to a mechanic. Seems it's not firing on all cylinders. I have days like that. Anyway, it would cost more to fix, than the truck is worth. So, I am going to have to give it up, and get something "new to me". I know that doesn't seem like a big deal, it isn't really.

I just feel sentimental about my truck, because it is the last physical thing I had with Bandit, a keepsake of sorts. I look on the bright side, with tears in my eyes, I do have the memories. Good memories, that will stay nestled in my heart forever.