‘Blink of an eye’ has morphed into ‘Here Kitty’

Global Cat logoTo all of my 2 fans out there, apologies for no recent posts.

I have my new blog “Here Kitty”  and its companion website, Global Cats up and running now, so that’s where I’ve been.

I discovered since I started blogging (one whole month into it) that I wanted to focus more on a specific topic and found that since I had a gadzillion links to cat sites and cat news that the topic seemed to pick me. I have been writing a book for the last year with cats as the main characters. Thus, all my ‘cat’ tags and cat folders and all the del.icio.us links and the news stories and bizarre tales that I have saved over the last year just begged for public attention.  

I find myself reading ‘cat news’ stories daily and I am most intrigued by the devoted efforts of so many people who work to save them, very often in horrible conditions. I found that I love these stories because they give me hope in human nature and for the human race. In spite of all the horrific events going on in the world, there are people who really care and actually do something to follow up on their passion.

I hope you take a look at my new sites and give me some feedback. I am developing a custom Google Global Cat map which placemarks many of these interesting news stories on the map. Since the emphasis at Global Cat is on rescue cats, the Global map will feature rescue cat stories sent in by readers. So if you have a rescued cat and want to feature your feline, check it out. Links are on both the blog and webiste, but here’s the direct link to the map.


The origin of cats

There was a study done by some UC Davis scientists wanting to learn more about the origin of cats. So they swabbed about 11,00 cats, I think it was, for their DNA.

I had a funny image of hundreds of scientists in lab coats with Q-tips and zip lock bags traveling to remote locations all over the globe, taking a quick swab of random cats’ cheek cells and getting on the plane to take their samples back to the lab. But hey, I’m not a scientist and of course it was all done through the mail. 

But the DNA results were interesting because they discovered that the cradle of human civilization,  appropriately named ‘The Fertile Crescent’, is also the origin of the domesticated cat.

Cats became domesticated about the same time that people did apparently. When we went from being nomadic beings and settled down, raising and storing crops and grains, cats quickly discovered that those storage units harbored their favorite cuisine. Humans realized what a great service cats provided and a mutual bond was struck.

Today most cat owners don’t rely on their cats to keep the mice out of their grain cellars (although we do depend on Marco and Polo to keep the rodents at bay here at our country ‘estate’).

So there’s some magnetic bond between humans and cats, sort of a mutual respect it seems, that obviously doesn’t depend on a work ratio factor. All they have to do is look cute, which is most of the time, and we feel better. Pet a cat and your blood pressure goes down. If he purrs, then you’ve soaked up a little of his nirvana.  Instant stress relief.

Maybe we love cats because they never worry about anything. They are truly an inspiration in the art of relaxation.

 Here’s a link to something more scientific. Cats’ Family Tree Rooted in Fertile Crescent

Snooze mode

The ‘Mewses’ and I are in snooze mode. Be back soon!

Snooze mode

The ‘Mewses’ have their own page

I have 2 orange tabby cats, named Marco and Polo. They deserved their own page which they got today. To see them click on the page tab at the top: ‘The Mewses.

Feel free to submit captions for their photos.

Not Quite Dead…


The cats are wondering why there’s a paper bag with half-dead flowers sitting on a chair at the dining table.  Then they discover the last drops of the milk in my cereal bowl and they’ve forgotten the flowers.


The flowers had such a righteous beginning that it didn’t seem right to toss them in the trashcan. They don’t belong in the garbage with empty milk cartons, coffee grounds and dust bunnies.  But they are long past their prime as Table Décor.  About half of them are withered.  Colors faded.  Edges browned.  The brilliant yellows have taken on a sickly greenish tinge.  The baby’s breath has shriveled up, making the flowers’ demise especially poignant.


But the pinks and purples are survivors!  Carnations and the daisy family members still have a bit life.  They’re not-quite-dead, so tossing them feels just too careless—like I’m burying something alive.  Sometimes I deal with the fresh flower issue by carefully plucking out the few ‘survivor flowers’  and put them in ever smaller vases as I continue to pick.


As I said, the flowers had a righteous beginning.  They were given in love and affection by my children for my 60th birthday. (There, I’ve admitted it in public now.) So when I couldn’t leave them out as Table Décor anymore, I took them out of their vase (Oh my, I’ve cut off their food supply!) and put them in the paper bag, which looked more dignified than the garbage can. 


Later on I see them as I pass through the dining room.  They look pretty silly on the chair at the head of the table.  Oh dear, why have I complicated my life with this?


It almost, not quite, but almost, feels like the time I had to make the decision to have my 15 year old cat put to sleep. Am I blowing this out of proportion? Geez, sort of. But wait, maybe I’ll get in touch with a deeper reality.  Sigh.


Should I adopt some cats so I wouldn’t get too maudlin here?  Oh yeah, I did that already.  I have two cats, but they are in the middle of one of their 5 hour naps. 


I will need to make a decision about the flowers before The Hubby gets home.  They are sitting on His Chair after all and I don’t think I’ll be able to explain this to him.  He’ll give me one of those ‘over the top of his glasses look’ even if he doesn’t have them on.


I don’t know which side is going to win.  My practical, logical side, which chides me (“Just toss them for crying out loud!  You’re being ridiculous!”) and is often at odds with my very right-brained, feminine and contemplative side.


This is the part that lets me spot a marvelous display of sunlight intertwined with delicate shadows dancing on the wall…or the silvery threads of a garden orb spider that I discover just in time so I don’t disturb it. These ‘moments of grace’ are gifts–like being gently brushed with Divine Mercy.