Animal Adoption: I Fell In Love With A Cat, But It’s Not That Simple

I am not a cat person. Let me be clear on that. I am not a cat person. I love all animals and cats are included in that umbrella, but that doesn’t mean I want a cat in my home, as a part of our family. But I took the leap and got a cat for my husband as a wedding present because he is a cat person. I surprised him with a trip to an animal shelter and let him see the cats, and see if there were any immediate connections. There was, and we ended up taking that connection home. That was three years ago…

Ever since, it has been a love/hate thing with Moxy, our kitty. I even wrote a few posts on some of the particular growing pains of getting used to living with a cat and of course dealing with the claws of said cat. I love my dog Angel, and it’s that simple. I love her. It’s love/love. But my cat can make me want to scream or pull my hair out or punch a wall (I don’t actually do this because I would do more damage to my hand than the wall, but the desire is there). And then she does something cute or purrs or brushes against me or sits in my lap, and it’s love again. So love/hate.

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Angel (the dog) and Moxy (the cat). While they love each other, Moxy seems to only love Angel when it comes to other animals. Of course, Angel loves everyone and everything.

Roy (my husband) says it’s because I’m so much like a cat, and while I can gripe about it, I’ll admit, my personality is probably more in line with a cat’s than a dog’s. I’m independent, solitary, and I don’t take orders from anyone. The only way I’ll do what I’m told is if I was going to do it anyway. The funny thing is that Roy, the cat person, is more like a dog in terms of personality. It must be more of that “opposites attract” phenomena that I have certainly found to be true, but I digress…

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The Truth About Trophy Hunting, Cecil the Lion and Walter Palmer

Two months ago, I was faced with something I didn’t realize still went on – trophy hunting. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was shocked and angry, and I could not understand how anyone could want to be a part of something so vile, and completely rigged. Real hunters – nope. Any sportsman – not a chance. And it was personal, because it was in my face, and people I knew, people I thought I knew.

And now this thing with Cecil the lion happened. Unless you’re living under a rock, you know what I’m talking about. A dentist, Walter Palmer, from Minnesota participated in trophy hunting and bagged himself a lion. But that wasn’t all that happened. Palmer went above and beyond by luring a loved and protected lion into unprotected territory and shot him with a bow and arrow, allowing this creature to live forty more agonizing hours before finally finishing him off. And this is not the first time Dr. Palmer has been guilty of “illegal hunting activity.” I think everyone has heard the story by now, so why should I retell it (if you want to check it out click here) and what else is there to say except this is horrible. And while I don’t want to be all judgey – this guy is seriously twisted, despicable and a coward. (He also has a history of sexual harassment, so he’s not really winning at all with me.) But this brings me back to what I wrote before about trophy hunting and how I had my own encounter with something so terrible it almost seems like a bad dream…

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Trophy Hunting: Like Shooting Fish In A Barrel, Only The Fish Are Lions

Last month something appeared on my newsfeed that made me stop everything. It was a picture of someone smiling big and holding a rifle next to an adult male lion. I wondered how they made it appear so calm, as it was sitting upright, particularly so close to a gun, real or not. And then I saw the message, and then I saw the comments, and then I just wanted to throw up. It was a real lion, not a prop, which I knew right away – the camera that caught it… you could see the mats in its fur… no reproduction could capture its spirit. But its spirit had been snuffed out by a bunch of rich people who thought hunting lions would be cool. And I know these people. And I felt sick again.

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What My Birthday Reveals About My True Personality and Destiny (Because A Book Told Me So)

I’m not into astrology. I mean what I should say is, I don’t believe in it, but I think it’s fun and can provide harmless and old-fashioned entertainment. Last month, I was in a used bookstore (naturally) and stumbled upon this: The Element Encyclopedia Of Birthdays. I turned the page to my birthday, and OMG – it was so accurate it was freaky. I mean normally horoscopes are vague so they can fit almost anyone, but almost everything about this – down to specific events was my life and my personality. So weird… So you know I had to buy it. I mean it was spot on. Here is what it had to say.

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July 28: The Independent Spirit

People born on July 28 are fiercely independent and competitive. They love to work independently, and although they have superb communication skills they prefer to lead by example than by hollow words. They relish testing themselves against challenges and their urge to win is so powerful that they find it almost impossible to admit defeat.

Yes, yes and yes! Boy, did this book peg me. I am always on it about: actions speak louder than words. I don’t like people telling me they’ll do something, I just want them to do it. I live the same way. I don’t make promises, I just come through. And when I do promise… well you get the idea. People say I’m a natural leader, but honestly that makes me a tad uncomfortable. I just keep on doing me and doing what I feel strongly about.

As far as competitive – they don’t know the half of it! I am always in competition with myself. Oh story! When I was eight, I took the California Achievement Test and was in the 99 percentile in every subject. I could not let go of the fact that I was not in the 100 percentile. I went on and on, trying to convince my teacher to let me retake it, and she insisted there was no 100 percentile, which I tried to poke holes in and interrogated her like I was a prosecutor. I then had to research whether there was a 100 percentile or not by going to the library and looking up books on college statistics. Again, I was eight, and this was 1992. Yeah, I’m not a perfectionist at all…

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A Really Funky Dream

I had a really funky dream the other night. Like so super funky, I have no idea what it means or even how I feel about it. All I know is it was twisted, I mean for-real-seriously-fucked-up-what-the-hell twisted.

I don’t know how it started, but I am pretty sure it started out as a longer dream and I can only remember the ending, but this is what I remember:

I was at a writing conference – or reading conference, basically I just know it was hella crowded and there were booths on writing and different books for sale, when I came across someone I haven’t seen, spoken to, or had any other communication with for four years. Now there is a reason (okay several reasons for that). She was someone I considered a friend even though she could be hurtful and negative – this was before I took a good look at the influences in my life. I got sick, like rare autoimmune disease, chemo, multi-organ failure, terribly terminal prognosis, etc. and she stepped up acting like a cheerleader for my cause, which was just staying alive. She started a Facebook group (it took a week to persuade me) so I could update friends without worrying about privacy settings if I did so on my wall.

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Trying To See Jurassic World When You’re Deaf: The Third Time Was Not The Charm

For a long time I did not go to the movies. I’m deaf, so while I missed seeing certain types of movies in theatres (anything with special effects for example), I would wait for the DVD, so I could try and understand it in the quiet of my own home, with subtitles. But a few years ago that changed and theatres started offering closed captioning. It’s not on the actual screen, it’s this device you put in your cup holder, in your seat, and it shows you the lines much like a teleprompter. It’s not perfect, I mean you have to look at two things at the same time, so it’s not as good of a viewing experience as watching it at home, but when it comes to certain movies – the ones I just can’t wait for, or the ones my husband, Roy, can’t wait for or ones with killer special effects – it’s still worth it to see it in theatres. It’s still better.

Seeing Jurassic World in theatres was a no-brainer. It was a movie I could not wait to see, Roy could not wait to see and had a lot of special effects – the theatre trifecta if you will. But it still hasn’t happened, and it’s for lack of trying, and now I’m not sure if it even will.

We didn’t go right away to see the movie. Our anniversary was just a few days after it first came out in June, but I had it in my back pocket for a surprise day trip I planned to Colorado Springs two weeks later. Since I had lunch and dinner picked out that day, I was afraid I would need something to buffer out our time there after everything else I had planned: a coffee factory tour and trip to a state park, but the park didn’t take up much time because it was pouring. And that wait apparently was the beginning of our downfall.

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