A Change of Heart

In May, a co-worker approached me about taking in his cat while he went on sabbatical this summer. I explained to him the dangers cats face from coyotes at my house in far east Edmond. After thinking about his request, I decided that out of kindness I would offer to keep his cat in the house for the three months and thus not risk its life and they would have their cat upon their return. Looking sheepish, Greg confessed that the cat "wasn't really working" for his family and they did not want her back. I agreed to take the cat and acclimate her to my place and hoped that she would learn to survive as my other two outside cats have.

When Valentine arrived at my house, I soon learned what "not working" meant. She was a demon cat! She attacked everyone who came close to her and soon forced herself behind the washer, where she stayed for two days whenever anyone entered the laundry room. After two days, I told my husband that the indoor bonding was over and he helped me drive her to the garage, each of us armed with brooms.

In the garage, I placed food, water and a litter box, but I didn't know how long I could put up with her aggression. If I did see her, she hissed, attacked, and then hid. None the less, each time I went into the garage, I spoke gently to her. I did not react when she struck at me, so this ploy did not work for her.

Again, after two days, I began to believe I would have to go ahead and transition her outside. I hoped her interaction with my two outside cats might helped her disposition, but four days is just not much "bonding" time. On the morning of the third day in the garage, I went out to raise the garage door about six inches so she could go in and out. I was beginning to hope "out" forever. I opened the door to the garage from the laundry room and from acrossed the room streaked Valentine, demon cat. She ran up to me, cried and rubbed against my legs as if greeting on old friend.

I have since learned that everyone was afraid of Valentine and, more importantly, acted afraid her. When people cared for her while the family that owned her was gone, they would open the door to feed her just enough to put the food in and then slam it shut as she attacked.

Now I did not know in the beginning that my method of interaction with Valentine would bring about such a change. It was a great shock when she greeted me with so much friendship in the garage. She has not changed in attitude since. She greets me when I come home and seems to be relaxed and content.

Giving Away Your Vote

Listining to NPR, I was disturbed by a comment made by a Clinton follower on the day that Ms. Clinton conceded to Mr. Obama. In the broadcast there was a lot of background noise that sounded disturbed almost like lamenting. When the reported asked this older woman if she would now vote for Obama, the woman replied that she would only if Hillary told her to do so.
What does that mean? Is Hillary now in control of the votes of all of her followers? Is this a cult? Why would one give away one's vote to another person? Does the woman not have an opinion of her own? Her next comment was that she may just leave the country.

Why is the opinion of celebrities so valued? They are just people and because they are famous, every kneejerk thing they say is printed and uplifted by many as "truth" or "a guide."

Pig's Saga

Pig came to live at Happy Home in 1995. She had grown up at a landscaping nursery, but had gotten too big for the environment. When she brushed past small children, she would often knock them down. Pig was always gentle and a lover of fine food, human company and especially sweets. She was too heavy to get far so she needed no pen to contain her. She slept on a small hill in back of our house in her shed. She could sleep on the cool dirt in the summer and we stuffed it with straw in the winter. Each morning she made her rounds, first to her food dish which we set yards away from her shed to encourage exercise. Next was down to the patio for fresh water.

Pig, or Pumba (her given name), was a great hit with children of all ages. She would lay on her stomach, ears in the air, soft nose wriggling and watch them watch her. Few children were brave enough to pet her, but they all wanted to see her. Pig, however, didn't suffer fools. When two of the older young people that frequented our house out and out teased and frustrated her, she did chase them, at least as much as she could chase. It was scary enough to put their nonsense to an end. It was somehow satisfying hearing them cry for help, knowing what they had done and also knowing Pig was simply putting on a show and had no intention, indeed no way of harming them.

Pig diligently pursued her vocation of keeping snakes away from our house, because this is one attribute pigs possess. She was never bothered by any predators and live a happy and contented life at Happy Home.

I am talking about her in the past tense because Pig passed away last Tuesday on the patio she loved to visit. Pig was @ 4 years old when we brought her home for my son, Caleb's birthday 13 years ago, which made her 17 years at her death. I am told that is over 90 years old in pig years. Caleb was the one who found her and it was a sad day.

Pig never "did" much of anything, but be there. She was a fixture and a storybook adventure to little children. I will miss her because she was gentle and silly looking. Iwill miss her because she liked me and like for me to scratch her ears and give her treats.

So this is my salute to Pig, who crossed my path and stayed for 13 years. She did no harm and only enhanced life.

A New Voice

Sometimes finding your voice is difficult when it has been quiet so long. I can tell about Happy Home where I live with a son and a daughter and my husband of 35 years. Living on the land with us are four dogs, three cats, two donkeys, two young, rapter-looking chickens and Pumba, the pig.

J.C. and I own two businesses in Edmond. They are The Funky Hair Ranch, a hairstyling salon and Metro Propety Contractors, Inc., a janitorial contracting business. We built the house we live in with our own four hands and it sets on 10 acres which we share with my mother and dad. My children grew up walking to Granny and PaPa's on a dirt path through the woods.

I'm excited about learning more about blogs and web pages. Right now my greatest goal is to learn to put a picture on mine and to be more glib or slightly wicked.