All Twitty

I’m beginning to feel what my mother must have meant when she said, towards the end of her life, that things were all twitty. Because today, I find myself absolutely unable to do anything—write, print labels, find anything to write about.

It may be the cat that got me into this mood. We’ve had Kitty for 16 years, ever since I heard him yowling on the top of a wheel on a parked car outside. OK—moral proximity: if a cat needs help outside your house, what can you do? So there we were, lying on our stomachs on the sidewalk, peering under the car. And there Kitty was, wisely deciding to retreat deep into the chassis of the car. After all, did he know who we were?

The solution was tuna fish, we realized, and it became clear: we were only going to get one chance; this was one smart cat. Fortunately, we lured him into the cage, and spirited him up to the apartment, where we put him into the one room that actually has a door, the guest bathroom.

The kitten at this point fit comfortably in Mr. Fernández’s hand—it was at that stage where the ears were seemingly bigger than the head. And speaking of the ears, there was a huge oil smear on the right ear; Mr. Fernández got to work on that the next day.

Which I found then, when I came upon Fernández sitting on the toilet, alternately drying and kissing Kitty. “I like this cat,” he crooned, and that was it. True, he was / is an orange cat, and none too beautiful. But that wasn’t the point; probably because of the vitamins we shoveled down him, he’s a truly intelligent cat.

(Sorry to disabuse you here, but most cats? Stupid as posts, despite their appearance….)

Smart enough, in fact, to break out of the guest bathroom after a few days. And how did he do it, since the door was still closed? By climbing up and then down an 8-foot louvered door—it was the only way.

So there he was, casually casing the place, completely unfazed be the three other adult cats who were tailing him. 

Over the years, it became obvious—this was Raf’s cat, not mine. Kitty sleeps by Raf at night, and stays sleeping on his pillow during the day. And at one point, Raf had a dream in which Kitty was talking to him.

“Kitty, you can talk!” exclaimed Raf.

“Of course I can talk,” said Kitty irritably. It was sort of an Alice and Wonderland moment….

Which last Monday was not. That’s when I took Kitty in to the vet, since he hadn’t been eating, and was looking lethargic. He knew, of course, what was coming the moment his saw the red carrying case; characteristically, he offered no complaint.

I knew, too, what was going to happen. I knew it the moment I saw the vet palpating Kitty’s lower abdomen.

“It’s always the kidneys in older cats,” said Jeanne over the weekend. At that point, Kitty had just come home from five days in the hospital, getting IV fluids, and enduring the constant barking of the neighboring dogs. And yes, he had cost us just under a thousand bucks.

We had to spend it, of course. But I can tell you now—we might as well have taken a vacation, instead. Despite Raf’s optimism—based on the statement by the vet that Kitty might last another two years—I don’t think this cat’s gonna be around long.

So he’s in the back bedroom now—isolated so we can see if he urinates and give him the diet he needs. And I puzzled this morning when I was feeding him, how strange life worked. I had a job, I had an office, I had a place to be on Monday mornings. And now? I was alone with an old, feeble cat—a cat we will one day put in the red carrying case, and head weeping—as I am now—for the vet…

…one last time. 

Olympic Hypocrisy

Wow—wonderful what this blog can do! True, I had to keep harping about it, and I do apologize to any reader who may have gone a bit crazy, hearing my rants over and over. But admit it, dear Readers: Aren’t you glad we kept up the pressure? Because now we have it from a new-found friend, no less than Vladimir Putin himself, that the Winter Olympics in Sochi will be… OK, here’s The New York Times itself:

Speaking at a meeting with leaders of Russian winter sports federations, which was also attended by Thomas Bach, the president of the International Olympic Committee, Mr. Putin said Sochi would be fully tolerant. 

Oh, and the name of this article? Putin Says Sochi Welcomes Gays!

Guys?

Look, I have lived over half a century, and I’m hard pressed to think of a more blatantly false and outrageously self-serving statement. And memo to Putin? Gay people, generally speaking, are not fools. So if you think this statement gets you off the hook, think again.

The question, of course, is who is more turpid—sorry, computer, but I looked it up, and Nabokov used the word too—here: Putin and his heinous laws that criminalize even talking about homosexuality, or the Olympic Committee, which sat around and watched Putin enact these laws without raising a word of protest. Then, of course, things got hot, so the Olympic guys had to go and put pressure on the Russian president to make this ridiculous statement.

Well, this was not the only news about LGBT issues in the Times, today, because Frank Bruni had a story about Paul Singer, a billionaire Republican who gave a pot of money to Mitt Romney, but who is also giving money to the Human Rights Campaign. Why? Well, Singer among other things has a gay son—and a gay son-in-law. And he thinks support for gay rights is not incompatible with the Republican Party. Here’s what Bruni has to say:

In Singer’s view, gay rights are consistent with a Republican philosophy of individual liberty, and gay marriage is “an augmenter of social stability, family stability and stability in raising kids.” In other words, it’s conservative.

Nor is Singer the only Republican to join with the HRC—there’s also Daniel S. Loeb; here’s what he has to say:

As we witnessed in its successful campaign to advance marriage equality in the United States, HRC is a uniquely effective organization that achieves what it sets out to do.

Right—so what’s the campaign about? Well, the HRC has decided it’s time to act globally and support the organizations in other countries that are struggling to advance the causes of LGBT folk. Here’s what Singer has to say about the campaign:

“Every day around the world, LGBT individuals face arrest, imprisonment, torture and even execution just for being who they are,” said Paul Singer.

And guess what? The situation is getting worse around the world, just as it’s getting better in the United States. And why is that? Because we are exporting our bigotry around the world, as evangelical Christians have given up on the domestic market. So what have people like Scott Lively done? They’ve run down to Uganda and over to Russia to stir up hate and urge draconian laws.

Which makes it all the interesting what Bruni says:

It (the campaign) intends to name and shame American religious zealots who sponsor antigay campaigns abroad. So Republican money may wind up challenging a constituency within the party. (We’re most definitely not in Kansas anymore.)

Well, it’s an interesting world presenting itself today: Republicans supporting LGBT issues, and our new buddy in the Kremlin. Is it that I have the cynical blood of journalism coursing through my veins? Because I’m back to suggesting this….

Get going, Readers: download your print-ready image here at no cost, and order your label sheets (in an appropriate printing size) here! (Suggested brand; $6.68 per 100 labels is not bad!)