Time Warp

 Ancient black cat
Time curls around itself
And falls asleep

White Recliner: A Memory

I always think of Grandpa Newland,
whenever I see a white recliner.
I remember him setting in one,
with the Siamese cat beside him and the dog in his lap,
watching TV.
Grandpa enjoyed setting there
with Jay beside him and Cindi or Popcorn in his lap,
watching The Grand Old Opera.

I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Memories Underfoot

These are the memories that lay underfoot,
the memories I stumble over when waking up.
A black and white long haired cat,
whose purr vibrated the house
when he wanted to to toss him
a furry toy mouse.

These are the memories that lay underfoot,
the memories I scramble when waking up.
Taking eggs from beneath a hen
she set there glaring at me
she wanted to hat the eggs I know,
that that was never to be.


I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The Shadow of a Cat

Gray ash
stains white curtains
migrates camel humped
across the windowsill.

 

This is posted in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port.

 

 

Cat's Cradle

Mind and soul play together,
with words on a looped theme.
Alternately stretching rhyme and rhythm
over the fingers of stanza and line.

This poem is also posted in my writing.com blog in the journal Writing in Snow in my writing.com port under the folder Awardicon Items. My handle on writing.com is Prosperous Snow.

Feline Perfection

Perfection is a cat
staring out at
the night.

This is also posted in Writing in Snow in my writing.com port.

Haibun-Haiku: The First Saturday in November

Jalál (Glory), 19 ‘Ilm (Knowledge), 169 BE – Saturday, November 3, 2012 about 12:25 PM Pacific Time

a neighbor’s dog barks
an oleander is dead
no more pink flowers

The pink oleander, which grows or rather grew by the back fence, is dead and I think the red one is dying. I am not sure what is killing them because the white oleanders are blooming and the rest of the weeds in the backyard are growing like weeds. All right, that is how weeds are supposed to grow.

The dog in the yard behind the fence is barking this morning. He or she does not normally bark, so I have no idea what is causing the dog’s problem. I did not see any one or anything unusual in the backyard when I looked out the kitchen window. The dog could be barking at one of the neighborhood cats; one cat likes to bate this particular dog. Perhaps because the cat knows that the dog will not do him or her any harm.

I suppose I have to have the dead oleander removed; however, I think I will wait until after I use the plant as inspiration for a story or poem. The mystery of why the oleander died would make a good story plot because oleanders are weeds (my own opinion) and weeds are hard to eradicate, especially oleanders. I know, I have tried having them removed and they just come back.

A Neighbor’s Cat: A free verse poem

Jamál (Beauty), 12 Kamál (Perfection), 169 BE – Sunday, August 12, 2012 about 10:15 AM Pacific Time

Stretched out

across the stone on my patio,

a neighbor’s

gray and white cat

watches the sparrows in the oleanders,

listens

to another neighbor’s dog bark,

or stares at me

through the kitchen window;

as I pick up the camera

she switches her tail

and leaves.

I Gave the Cats to Becky

‘Idál (Justice), 16 Mashíyyat (Will), 167 BE – Wednesday, October 12, 2011 about 6:55 PM

Due to physical and financial, I could not continue to take care of both Mom and the cats. Therefore, with the help of my brother, I took the cats the animal shelter earlier this year. When Mom first noticed that they were gone, I told her I took them to the Vet and they had to stay there for a while. That seemed to satisfy Mom at the time.

Recently Mom asked, “Where are the cats?”

My reply, “I gave them to Becky.” I explained to Mom that Becky wanted some cats to keep her cat company and that satisfied Mom. I do not know a Becky, but apparently, Mom has known someone by that name because it satisfied her.

Because of the Alzheimer’s disease and short-term memory issues Mom usually forgets that we had cats. When she does remember it is unwise to tell her that I took them to the Animal Shelter because she will get angry. This forces me to come up with plausible explanations that will satisfy her when she asks the question. Fortunately, she does not ask the question vary often.

I am still hanging in there

Istijlál (Majesty), 11 Mulk (Dominion), 167 BE – Thursday, February 17, 2011 about 11:08 AM Pacific Time

As you can see, the cat is still hanging on to his limb. I am stilling hanging on myself. Yesterday evening the Weather Bureau announced a wind advisory for Clark County, since Las Vegas covers most of Clark County Nevada we had wind gust of 40 mph. and fortunately, the wind did not blow down the remaining stone pine in my front yard.

The tree still look as ill as ever, but at least it is still standing. I am not sure how long that will last, especially if we get any more high winds. I had the tree closest to the street and the power lines removed this month. I am going to be paying it off for the next several months, so
I cannot have the remaining tree removed this year.

Yesterday, when Mom and I returned I parked the car in the driveway. When the wind started blowing, I went out and moved the car closer to the house. I did not know if the tree would stand up to the wind and I did not want the car parked too close to it.

I’m Hangin’ in

Fidál (Grace), 9 Mulk (Dominion), 167 BE – Tuesday, February 15, 2011 about 2:24 PM Pacific Time

This week I know how this cat feels, because I am feeling the same way. I am hanging in there and hoping that if the limb breaks or I let go the ground is soft. I think the biggest issue is the amount of work I have to do. For some reason I feel in a hurry to get everything accomplished.

I do not know why I feel pushed maybe it is because I work from home. I would love to get a job that would take me out of the house, but that is not possible at this time. I am my mother caregiver and I cannot afford to hire someone to take care of her. In addition, Mom has not responded well to winter, she does not do anything except sit on the couch or love seat covered with a blanket.

I keep the house as warm as possible, but it is not warm enough for Mom. This house has always been difficult to keep warm; unfortunately, Mom does not remember how difficult the house is to heat. Anyway, I am hanging in there and feeling like the cat in the picture.

Note about the picture: This picture came off a card someone sent me. I cannot find the card; I wish I could because I like the picture. This picture was on the outside of the card, but that is all I know about it.

A trip to the Pet Store

Jalál (Glory), 16 Sharaf (Honor), 167 BE – Saturday, January 15, 2011 about Sunset Pacific Time

Mom and I went to Pet Smart this morning. The reason we went was to buy cat litter. I like to get cat litter at a pet store because it is less expensive then in a regular grocery store. Of course, when I buy cat litter I buy about 40 lbs. at a time.

I buy litter in 40 lb. boxes or bags for two reasons. First, it is cheaper to buy large amounts at a time. Second, it allows me to buy cat litter once a month or once every two months. The biggest problem I have is carrying the 40 lbs. into the house. Once I get the 40 lb. of cat litter in the house then I empty it into two plastic buckets. The two buckets originally held cat litter and once they were empty, I kept them to hold the 40 lb. boxes or sacks I usually buy.

The biggest problem I have with the 40 lb. containers is carrying them into the house. It takes energy to carry a 40 lb. bag of cat litter into the house. However, I think carrying the 40 lb. box of litter is much more difficult. Perhaps I need to buy a little red wagon to haul the litter into the house.

Renaming the Cats

‘Idál (Justice), 2 Qawl (Speech), 167 BE – Wednesday, November 24, 2010 about 2:50 PM Pacific Time

My mother is renaming the cats. She has been renaming them for a couple of months now. She forgot that they already have names and so she had decided they need names. I don’t mind her giving them new names and the cats don’t seem to mind. The only things the cats care about are clean litter boxes, full food dishes, a full water dish, and someone to stroke their fur. As long as they have these things, the cats are happy.

Since I am, the one who makes the appointments with the Vet it doesn’t matter what Mom calls the cats. Mom enjoys petting them and she enjoys thinking up new names. If there is a problem, the cats come to me meowing and I have to figure out what they want. Unusually it isn’t difficult to figure out what they want all I have to do is check their water, food, and litter boxes; if all of those items are in order, then the cats probably want their fur stroked.

A Busy Sunday Morning

Jamál (Beauty), 17 Asmá’ (Names), 167 BE – Sunday, September 5, 2010 about 6:37 AM Pacific Time

This morning, I sifted all four litter pans and carried the used litter to the trashcan in the garage. While I was out there I noticed an old plastic trashcan with a huge hole in the bottom. A trashcan with a hole in it is of no use to me. I have to take that can to the curb on recyclable day with a note attached so the trash collectors will carry it away.

I prepared Mom's meds for the next seven days. I noticed that Mom is out of calcium tablets, so I began grocery list because I don't want to forget anything when I go to the store for he calcium tablets. The doctor recommended that she take two 600 +D tablets per day. Since Mom's insurance won't pay anything on the calcium tablets we have to buy them over the counter. I also changed the battery in Mom's hearing aid; we don't have to worry about hearing aid batteries for about five weeks.

I also wrote about 400 words this morning, I know that isn't very many words, but considering everything else I've accomplished that is good. I think Mom is still asleep, because I don't hear her waking up. I'll check on Mom when I go to get a cup of coffee.

For breakfast, I'm fixing scrabbled eggs and canned chicken. I still have a pound of bacon in the freezer, but we had bacon for breakfast everyday last week; so I want to start this week off with another type of meat.

I recied a Good New newsletter

One of the daily newsletters I receive in my yahoo e-mail box is Gimundo Good News ... Served Daily>. In today's newsletter was the following video link about a Cockatoo and a cat. Take a look at Cat and Cockatoo in Love.

A Beautiful Sunday Morning in Las Vegas

Jamál (Beauty), 8 ‘Azamat (Grandeur), 166 BE – Sunday, May 24, 2009 about 10:54 AM Pacific Time

It's a beautiful Sunday morning in Las Vegas and I have cloths to hang on the line. I hung one load of cloths out early this morning. When I was hanging them up one of the neighbors' cats walked through the yard. She saw me hanging out cloths, so she sit down and watched me. Apparently, she doesn't see someone hanging out cloths very often.

I also saw a bird. I think it was a nightingale, but I'm not sure. I'm not a birdwatcher, so I can't identify the different species of birds. Anyway, the bird saw me hanging out cloths and he had to land on the bough of the oleanders and watch me. I must have been an extremely unusual sight because animals normally don't do that.

The bird and the cat are going to have to get used to seeing me hanging out cloths. I have not intention of buy an electric cloths dryer. As it is, I'm going to have to buy a fridge this week and I doubt I'm able to get in on any of the Memorial Day Sales. One of the sales is Sunday and Monday, while another ends May 27. I'm going to have to pay the regular price, so I'm going the buy the least expensive new fridge I can find.

My Grandmother’s Cat Jay

Jalál (Glory), 7 ‘Azamat (Grandeur), 166 BE – Saturday, May 23, 2009 about 3:09 PM Pacific Time

This afternoon, I am thinking about my grandmother's cat. He was a Siamese by the name of Jay. Grandma found the cat at Lake Blackwell (I think that was the name of the lake near the town we lived in). The people who owned Jay, before my grandmother found him, had two Siamese cats.

I'm not sure why Jay left the woman. It's possible Jay didn't like the woman or the other cat. Also, Jay could have like my grandmother better. Anyway Grandma ended up with Jay and when summer ended, she took him home to Blackwell.

My grandmother had chickens and Jay liked sleeping in one of the nest during the day. He never chased the chickens or stole eggs, which is more then I can say for one of the neighbors cats. Jay was a fighter and very protective of the chickens. As long as Jay lived, Grandma never lost chickens or eggs to the neighbors' cats or any other animal.

Sometimes Life Intervenes

‘Idál (Justice), 10 Qawl (Speech), 165 B.E. – Tuesday, December 2, 2008 about 8:49 AM Pacific Time

I haven't posted anyting in the past few day because events or at least I thought events intervened and prevented me from posting. Now I think it was just a bit of blog block caused by stress. Anyway something happened last night the made me think how short life really is and that I need to make more of an effort to post daily.

Lion, my yellow cat, died in my arms while I was holding him on the love seat. This isn't the first cat or pet that I've lost, but he is the first one who died in my arms while I was petting him. I knew he was ill, but I didn't realize he was that sick. He was about 12 years old, with a soft purr that got louder as you stroked his fur. When he didn't purr last night as I petted, I should have know something was wrong.

His death has caused me to think about the life changing events in my life. His death has caused me to think about writing my memoirs. His death has caused me to think about getting my mother to write her memoirs. I'm going to start by writing a chapter on Lion, I don't know how Mom's going to start her memoirs.

My Grandmother's Cat

Fidál (Grace), 14 Jalal (Glory), 165 B.E. – Tuesday, April 22, 2008 about 2:40 PM PDT

My grandmother had a Siamese cat called Jay. She acquired the cat because someone had abandoned him on Lake Blackwell. All spring and summer, she fed the cat, then when fall came she got the cat into the car and took him to Blackwell with her.

My grandparents raised chickens; they kept the chickens in a fenced enclosure in the backyard. When Jay arraive at my grandparents' house, the first think he did was go to the chicken house and find a nest to curl up in. From then on he either slept in the house with my grandparents or in the chicken house with the chickens.

The chickens, once they got used to Jay being around, didn't seem to mind him sleeping in a nest. In fact, as along a Jay lived no eggs were lost to any cat. One of the neighbors had a cat that stole eggs, but that cat never came around after Jay arrived. It's too bad that people can't get along as well as Jay got along with my grandmother's chickens. I always thought it was interesting that Jay and the chickens go along better with each other then humans get along.

Jay also go along with grandma's parakeet. The bird, I think his name was Ricky, stayed in his cage and sang most of the time. Jay would lie on top of the Victorla and watch Pete sing. Sometimes Pete got out of the cage; when he did Jay would not attempt to chase him. The bird would fly around the room and Jay would sit on the floor and watch the bird.

I hadn't thought about Jay, the chickens or Ricky in a long time. I'm not sure what brought them to mind today, except I've been missing my grandparents this month. I seem to go through a phase like this every so often. I miss grandma and grandpa, when I do I think about things I haven't thought about in a long time.

My Grandmother's Cat

Istiqlal (Independence), 2 Mulk 164 B.E. - Friday, February 8, 2008 about 4:21 PM PST

My grandmother's cat Jay
slept in her hen house during the day,
he curled in an empty chicken's nest
and slept while the chickens laid their eggs.

Jay seemed to like the clucking of the hens
he never chased or stole the eggs
he just curled in the empty nest and slept
until my grandmother called his name.