Finito….NaBloPoMo

Too Tired to Compose a Clever Title…

More pictures from Munich can be found here.

For Weasel…

Of all the things I considered I would write about to complete thirty posts in thirty days, I never once considered I would find myself composing a eulogy….for another rescue cat.

Long, long ago, during a life far removed from this one, Missus Chica was attending a small state college. One afternoon a bleeding heart English professor showed up in the pottery studio with rescue kittens. These were no ordinary rescue kitties. These were transplant, rescue kitties.

The English professor had been visiting New York City when she discovered a homeless cat with three kittens. An avid supporter of the Humane Society, the professor took the cats to the local shelter and discovered, “there was no room in the inn” and the felines would be euthanized. She would not leave with blood on her hands, so she left the shelter and took the strays with her. A hundred dollars in shots and a fifty dollar cat crate later, she flew to her home state, determined to locate proper homes for all.

When Missus Chica saw the cute little fuzzy things, she elected to take home a high-strung bundle of nerves who would later receive the name, Weasel. Missus Chica didn’t bother to ask her parents if she could bring the cat home. Instead, she opted to take a piece of friendly advice from her SIL, it’s easier to get forgiveness than it is to get permission.

Weasel was a welcome addition to the family. Welcome by everyone except for the feline matriarch, Itchy. Itchy had lived apart from cats for several years, and ruled her domicile with an iron paw. In the fourteen years Itchy and Weasel cohabited, they NEVER got along, so much as, they simply coexisted.

If Weasel had been a human she would have been certifiably insane, but since she was just a cat, she was only crazy. She suffered from severe anxiety issues around strangers. If she didn’t see you on weekly basis, you were a stranger. When strangers visited, Weasel didn’t hide, she went bezerk.

The kitchen was always the heart of the home. Most conversations happened around the kitchen table. Friends, family and strangers. When Weasel became aware of strangers, she would run through the room. Once, twice, three times in five minutes, then she would stop at the kitchen door and beg to go out. Three minutes might pass, and Weasel would return to the kitchen door begging to come back in. Weasel would come in, and the process would start over again, Weasel running around the room. This soon became known as, “Hey everybody, watch that cat.”

Weasel had a shiny black coat, with a white splotch on her chest, and little stray white pubes under her arms, and on her lower belly. She was always a scavenger at heart, and not a discriminating one. Vienna sausage was as welcome as sirloin. After a few years, she became less anxious about strangers, and began taking a genuine liking to guests who were were allergic to cats (that’s right, we can tell).

She was affectionate, and had a long life (14 years) in which she was a doting companion to Missus Chica, and later, her mom Gah Gah. I only hope to be so lucky. Rest in peace Weasel, and thanks for gracing us with your presence.

Guten Tag

Dear Patches,

I am sorry it has taken me so long to contact you since we left for Munich. Wireless was so expensive, I waited until we returned to the U.S. so I could email you from the airport.

The weather was tolerable enough to walk around in, but hardly pleasant. The first day was windy cold and partly cloudy. We were able to get a few good pictures, but most of our attempts on the shuttle ride from the airport qualify as blurry messes. The city was very charming. There were booths selling fruit, flowers, and roasted nuts. Unlike the French, Germans prefer communicating with the Americans in English, apparently it pains them to listen to us inadvertently bastardize the pronunciations in attempt to be respectful.

We enjoyed good food (read: real beer) and had a pleasant time walking downtown. I enjoy exploring new places and getting a feel for the preferred building materials. There was lots of stone used in cathedrals and walkways. There were dedicated bicycle paths (wish we had those here), and pedestrians were open season if the accidentally veered off the walkway onto the paths. I prefer to think of it as population control.

My overall impression of the city was a feeling of warmth and welcome. The locals were friendly. If you looked confused, they took it upon themselves to point you in the right direction.

I know you had your heart set on visiting Germany with me, but I must tell you it was best you stayed home. The locals love their dogs. I saw dogs in the airport, restaurants, bars, on the streets, and in the squares. I’m afraid I didn’t see a single feline. Better to know and not go, than challenge the self control of hundreds of canines.

Thanks for taking care of the house in my absence. I WILL make it up to you. I have jet lag and a fever and it will require a few hours of recuperation on the sofa. Your favorite spot. I promise, I’ll share the fluffy blanket…

love,
~Ms Chica

Waiting My Turn