Saturday, October 30, 2010


clawing my way out of the abyss

is a bit overly dramatic, and it's not like

the only place to go is up

because truly there are lower places, and

starting from square-one

invokes the award for cliché-usage, but damn-it

yesterday I didn't know what to wear for a 50-degree bicycle ride

-ob criminy, how can I not know?!?

Sunday, October 24, 2010



Oscar was a kitty, abandoned and fending for himself, when he found my parents in early October, 2001. He came home with me about 2 weeks later and settled easily into the household.

He rid the backyard of bunnies, mice, bumblebees and a wayward bird or two just so you know, if you make a cat drop it! then YOU have to deal with the half-dead bunny...pretty amazing considering he was functionally blind. He could see movement, but would stumble over things in the house that were out of place. A telltale sneeze from the other room meant a diningroom chair had been left out and he'd just rapped his nose.

He was often moving, forever exploring, always finding the chink in the fence. He wasn't much for cuddling, but my lap was his lap...always. Through the years, Oscar taught me the value of sleeping deeply and waking up slowly; that more can be made of love than of hollering; and that in spite of shortcomings, life is best spent barreling ahead.

He was diagnosed with kidney disease about 16 months ago. I'd really counted on him to be an 18-year kitty (Barney set the bar awfully high), but tough beginnings can sometimes mean endings that come sooner.

We had nine years together that we wouldn't have had, had he not popped his face up through the autumn weeds.

I'm very lucky.

- tob with a very empty lap