When I see Sammy outside waiting I just click the remote and VOILA…Sammy has instant heat! This may seem really simple to all you lucky folks who were born with the “electrician” gene, but to this former New Yorker it feels like I just rewired the Empire State Building! 
This week I finally figured out how to safely run an infra-red heat lamp out to the house on my deck, so Sammy could have a little heat to go with his meals.
Purrs,
Chris
“You have one saved message,” the telephone blurted out yesterday.
The message was from July 6th. Perhaps I shouldn’t have listened to it, but I couldn’t help myself. It was from the veterinarian, telling me to stop the thyroid medication my cat, Dickens, had just started, in case that was why he was so sick.
I remembered that call. I was still hopeful the day I got that message. I didn’t know the thyroid meds had sent my beloved boy into a downward spiral, revealing the cancer that no one knew he had. Dickens was gone four days later.
Then there was the label on my front door, telling responders to be sure and look for four cats in case of an emergency. I still can’t bring myself to change that number to three. 
And finally, my nail kit – what could be more mundane? But it wasn’t to Dickens. All those emery boards and implements were like catnip to my boy. He’d always come over and nose around for the nail buffer, picking it up in his mouth with a look that said I didn’t have to worry about cooking dinner – he’d snagged something special for me and his sisters!
We often don’t know that we’re going to lose someone special to us. I guess that’s a good reminder to enjoy all those sweet, simple little everyday moments with our loved ones, just in case our journeys with them come to an unexpected end.
I hope the last time Dickens grabbed that nail buffer I told him how much I appreciated his hunting prowess. After all, his sisters and I depended on him to keep us fed and happy.
Well done, Dickens.
Chris
For the first time in my life I wasn’t going to vote. The mud-slinging between the politicians had left me discouraged…and disgusted.
But then I remembered it’s a privilege to vote. So I thought it over, and decided I would vote for the candidates who hadn’t used the all-too-popular negative ads.
I wound up voting for only three candidates…not necessarily the biggest races in Oregon…and that felt right to me.
At least on some level I’d be telling politicians that if you use dirty tactics you won’t get my vote. Political candidates, even those who represent my party, are not entitled to my vote. They have to earn it. When they engage in childish “he said/she said” exchanges they are telling me exactly who they are.
They are followers.
Followers are often called sheep. I don’t know enough about sheep to verify if they really are followers, and frankly, comparing politicians to our fleecy friends seems like a terrible insult to the sheep.
What I do know is that our country is facing a lot of challenges. No one seems to have come up with a winning plan to turn things around, but I think that’s because the issues go beyond political parties.
I know it sounds simplistic, but it seems that only by banding together will we have a fighting chance of dealing with all the difficulties facing not only Americans, but people all over the globe.
Look at the united effort that brought those Chilean miners back to the sunlight. Remember the sense of oneness we felt after the horrifying events of 9/11. People weren’t strategizing how to help based on what was in it for them, they just showed up to help because help was needed.
I am looking for politicians who get that.
I’m looking for leaders.
Baaaa…
Chris
Once upon a time, if you told someone you were feeding a feral cat you probably would have heard “Better not do that – the cat will hang around forever.”
Thankfully, things have changed!
October 16, 2025 is the tenth anniversary of National Feral Cat Day. We are fortunate to have many wonderful organizations dedicated to educating people about the best way to help feral felines.
My four cats started out as feral kitties. It was spring 1998, and I saw a black mama cat carrying kittens in her mouth as she came and went from my yard.
My dog, Jake, found them, and instead of having them for dinner he brought them in and raised them.
The thought that these sweet furballs could have been left to fend for themselves brings me to tears. But that’s what happens to outside cats – they’re on their own, unless we help them.
Whether you want information on TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return) or how to help a feral cat in need, here are some online resources that might be of interest to you:
Feral Cat Coalition
Alley Cat Allies
The Humane Society
My four feral kitties became the feline loves of my life. I can’t imagine what life would have been like without them. So the next time someone warns me not to feed a feral cat because it might hang around forever, I know exactly what to tell them:
“I certainly hope so.”
Purrs,
Chris
So I brought it home, never knowing at the time how much I would come to rely on that stick.
It’s funny, really, because I had broken my previous walking stick on one of my morning treks through the woods with Jake. He had taken off after the deer who were running through the trees, and when he wouldn’t come back I jammed my stick into the ground, hit a rock, and that was that!
It was right after our snowy winter that my stick went missing. I figured it would turn up soon, hiding behind a box or standing in a dark corner. But after several months of looking without any success, I knew I had to accept that the walking stick was really gone.
Until…a got the phone call a few days ago, from the person who keeps his boat on my property.
I welcomed it back like a runaway child who had decided to come home. The stick is now in my office, where it will stay unless I am walking with it.
The funny thing is…there is an energy now emanating from the wood that I don’t remember being there before. I suspect my stick may have had some adventures during the past year and a half that have yet to be revealed.
Perhaps, if I listen very carefully, the stick will share them with me.
All of us animal lovers do it.
If there’s a cute critter doing something adorable, and our camera happens to be nearby, we make a mad dash for it and start snapping pictures!
So here’s a chance for all you kitty people to enter a photo contest for cat lovers, sponsored by Feralcatbehavior.com.
Here’s what they have to say:
“Feralcatbehavior is launching a Photo Contest for Cat lovers, celebrating the crazy world of cat ownership. The contest starts today and will run through the last part of October. Send us your funniest cat photos.
We have all been there when kitty discovers the roll of toilet paper and starts to play…or curiosity gets the best of him and he creeps into the refrigerator while the door is open and falls asleep next to the fruit. We have all had those special moments with our cats that make us LOL or just giggle uncontrollably. 
Submit your photos to webcomposer@comcast.net. The winner will receive, courtesy of Sturdi Products, a soft-sided cat carrier. Blog readers will vote on the best photo once they are published at the end of the month.
So tell your best cat buddies. We want to celebrate the craziness of cat ownership, embrace the embarrassing moments when Kitty gets the best of you, and laugh along with you as we explore the funny side of cats.”
Purrs,
Chris
Here’s what I want to say about my Dinosaur Tarot Reading – those darn dinos are amazingly perceptive.
Small brains??? I don’t think so!!
I was at an event this weekend where I saw a woman sitting on the floor with a suitcase full of plastic dinosaurs. She was offering tarot readings, only this reading had nothing to do with cards – it was all about the dinosaurs.
This was too intriguing to pass up, so I took a seat in front of the suitcase and asked if I could focus the reading on my passion – writing books for animal lovers.
I choose three dinosaurs, each representing different aspects of my life and work. Then Grey Anne, the woman who keeps these plastic figurines employed, went on to offer insights and guidance direct from the dinos.
All I can say is WOW – was this fun…and very helpful!
Although I’m going to keep what I heard to myself, I CAN say that what the dinosaurs shared will remain with me forever.
You can learn more about Grey Anne and her dinosaurs at www.dinotarot.com.
Time to go watch Jurassic Park.
I knew I had put it off for too long.
My cat, Pippen, needed her teeth cleaned, so last Friday she finally had it done. The tooth fairy claimed a few teeth in the process, but at least it’s done, and Pippen is fine.
As I write those words I’m aware of a slight ache in one of my own teeth.
Yes, I’ve been dragging my feet about going to the dentist, too. There was a time when I marched into the dentist’s office twice a year without a second thought. I had no problems and no fears – they could drill with a little Novocain and I was fine.
And then came the root canal in 1993. I went in with the same fearlessness, but something went wrong. After 12 shots of Novacain I could still feel the pain. The dentist did the best that he could, and sent me on my way with some prescription pain meds, which I promptly took.
It turned out I couldn’t tolerate pain killers…or that with me a little goes a long way! I will spare you the details - let’s just say it involved me trying to make my way home on the freeway, going through a fast food drive up for some refried beans (probably the only time in my life I’ve done that!) and then going through the bank drive up with the teller staring at me in an odd way.
When I got home I crawled up the stairs and looked in the mirror – my very numb face was covered in beans, with little bits of cheese sticking out for good measure.
Since then any dental work has required either total sedation, or a lot of over-the-counter sleeping pills and having a friend drive me.
So I put off Pippen’s dental, and I’m very sorry I did that. I won’t be so fearful with the other cats. Hey, I may even make an appointment to go to the dentist myself.
I’m going to do that…really…
Chris
When I saw this pottery jar I knew it was the perfect place for his ashes.
Black cats running through misty fields – surely one of them is my angel kitty, Dickens. When he’s not playing in fields of green, I know he’s flying through the starry skies with all his angel friends.
It’s funny – I always thought his closest angel buddy would be Jake, the beloved dog I lost in 2006. After all, it was Jake who found Dickens and his sisters 12 years ago.
But last night I had a dream about Martha, the magical dog who started me on my writing journey. I used to dream about Martha all the time…now she shows up when she has something to tell me.
In the dream, she was running next to my car as I drove near a highway. We came to an on-ramp and suddenly she veered left onto the ramp and headed onto I-84. “I’ve got to merge” she told me. “Dickens.”
Then POOF – she was gone!
And I knew she was on her way to see my beloved sweet boy.
Lovely….
Purrs,
Chris
She appeared among the other squirrels on my hillside about a month ago, a few weeks after the unexpected loss of my cat, Dickens.
The wrinkled, diseased and mostly hairless skin on her little body told me that something was very wrong. Her head was constantly sweeping to the right, as if she was motioning you to look behind her.
She would grab a peanut and sit back on her rear legs, shaking back and forth and side to side as she nibbled on the shell. She’d fall over constantly, but would pick herself up and get back to her peanut. I began calling her Shaky.
I emailed pictures of her to the wildlife center here in town. The veterinarian said it looked like she had some kind of parasitic condition, probably secondary to whatever else was going on with her.
Shaky showed up every day. She was used to seeing me in the yard and would come over for her peanut treats, hopping like a bunny on my hillside. She could go uphill fairly well, but downhill usually resulted in a lot of tumbling until she was stopped by a tree trunk.
Still she carried on. She was clearly very sick, but she didn’t care. She seemed to be happy…even joyful. And watching her flooded me with that same joyous feeling.
And then Shaky took a turn for the worse. She was mostly blind now, and had become very wary of me.
A few days ago, on a hot 95 degree day, I found Shaky chattering on a high tree in the woods across from my home. I knew she needed water, and when it came to water I was the only game in town.
I grabbed my yard tools and began cutting a path through the thorny blackberries. Blood ran down my arms and legs, but I was determined to do whatever I could to make it easy for her to get across the road to my yard
With the path cut, I put out water, seeds and peanuts…and waited. Eventually she came down from the treetops and stumbled around until she found a peanut. I cheered for her success…and then I sobbed.
The following day I saw a very feeble Shaky for the last time. She found one of the peanuts I threw in her direction and crawled under my fence. I watched her roll down the slope and land near a tall fir tree, still clutching the peanut. By the time I came around to the front she had disappeared.
I would have cared for Shaky under any circumstances, but my need to help her was so strong I felt it all the way down to the depths of my soul. I didn’t realize why at first, but now it’s crystal clear to me.
I’m a caregiver by nature…that’s just me. I took care of all the angel critters who have left my life over the years - some for weeks, some for much longer. All, that is, except Dickens. I didn’t know until the day I lost him that his body was filled with cancer and our journey had come to an end.
There was no time to brush his glossy black fur. No time for one last catnip–filled frenzy on the cat track. No time to hold him in my arms and breathe in his magic, filling myself to overflowing with his magnificent spirit.
I didn’t have that time with Dickens…but I did with Shaky. 
I have to wonder if Dickens sent her to me. Or perhaps Dickens decided to show up on earth as a sickly squirrel so we could have those last precious weeks together that we were denied when he was in feline form.
I know that Shaky is gone now, and is soaring through the stars like Rocky the Flying Squirrel. I didn’t need to be there when she left this life. I’d already done that part with Dickens. It was the time before that I had missed.
I’m sending a great big heartfelt thank you to one very special angel squirrel…and also to Dickens, her co-conspirator!
Peanuts and purrs,
Chris
