Bill

I frequently write about this guy: My favorite four-legged goof-ball. My buddy, Moose. The Moo-meister General. Moogie Howser, MD (he’s not a real doctor). The Great Googly-Moogly. Today I want to take a moment to pay tribute to another furry friend, Bill, who passed away August 19 after seventeen years in the family. Adopted by Sam and Sherry when their daughter Shanna moved away with her family, Bill quickly rose to the position of Most Awesome of Cats with his sweet disposition and willingness to accompany you on walks. I knew Bill for about five years, during which time his eyesight failed and his fur became hopelessly tangled in dreadlock knots, despite Sherry’s best attempts at combing them out. He was a country cat, after all. Even blind, he would get around, presumably by sound and smell. What he seemed to like best, though, was just hanging out with Sherry … Continue reading…

Be, Still, My Bleeding Hearts

This week in 2014, I considered showing you all a photo of a dead slug. However, in light of last week’s post about slug racing, I thought better of it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to raise suspicions that I had actually killed it or, at the very least, been complicit in its untimely demise.  I’m OK with losing a race to a slug these days. The reason is that, well, the photo didn’t turn out. Dead slugs are about as photogenic as sand-covered Tootsie Rolls. So I’ll show you a photo of Bill instead. Bill is Sam and Sherry’s geriatric kitty. He is blind and his fur is matted beyond repair, but he’s such a sweetheart, despite that he appears to be giving me a raspberry… Turning attention from Bill the kitty to my plant babies, I can see the rhubarb is about to explode… …and the bleeding hearts are going to … Continue reading…