Category Archives: animals

Banner King of Chaos, Director of Illumination & Head of Printer Operations

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Banner the ornage cat reves up with a cup of Joe before planning his daily does of chaos

The Internet Is Full of Cute Cats… But None Like Mine

The internet is overflowing with adorable felines.

There are the upside‑down cuddlers, Doug the 1‑der Cat and his lobster alter‑ego, the Business Cats, and the Canadian trio — Pudding, Onyx, and Olive — who run the Oreo Cat empire. Milo and Poppy (the black cat who never blinks) always deliver drama, and Maisie is the newest chaos intern in that household. Walter the Wizard Cat casts spells daily. If you displease him you will be sent to the VOID.

And then there are Kurt and Gary — the emotional support duo of the entire internet. Kurt, with his soulful eyes and “I’ve seen things” expression, radiates the energy of a cat who has read your diary and still loves you. Gary, meanwhile, is pure serotonin in whisker form — the kind of cat who could fix a bad day just by existing. Together they’re the quiet heartbeat of Cat Internet, the ones you check on like old friends.

I love them all.
But none of them — none — get into the kind of nonsense Banner does.

Banner’s Resume: Director of Illumination

You may recall Banner’s 3 a.m. hobby: turning on the bathroom light.
Not with a paw tap.
Not with a gentle nudge.
No — with bite marks in the switch.

Every light switch in this house is now in protective custody behind child‑proof covers. Banner considers this a personal challenge.

Nanaki, the orange upside‑down kitty, might give him a run for his money — Nanaki recently learned to turn on the oven.

Meet Nanki and his long suffering hooman

Banner hasn’t figured that out yet, but he does enjoy warming his behind on mine whenever it’s on. So we’re… halfway there.

And Now: Head of Printer Operations

But here’s where Banner truly sets himself apart.

Banner has decided the printer is his personal chaos button, and he is committed to pressing it at every opportunity.

This cat has exactly two modes:

  1. Sleeping like a Victorian child in a painting
  2. Causing administrative disasters

He’s not trying to print anything.
He’s summoning the Paper Spirits.
In his little cat brain, the logic is simple:

“I push this button, and the house makes snow.”

Incident #1: The Paper Blizzard

The first time he found the print button, I got one blank page.
Not ideal, but survivable.

When I returned home later, the entire paper tray was empty. Pages were scattered across the floor like confetti after a parade. The culprit? Snoozing peacefully in the bedroom, pretending innocence.

Incident #2: The Full Diagnostic Suite

A couple days of peace passed.
Then Banner apparently thought:

“I haven’t caused any chaos lately.”

I heard the printer whir to life.
There he was — sitting smugly on top of it like a tiny furry CEO.

I expected another blank page.
Nope.

He triggered a full diagnostic.

Four pages of printer diagnostics.
A full‑color test page.
And then — because he’s thorough — a one‑page printer report.

At this point, the printer needs a warning label:

“Not cat‑proof. Not even a little.”

Banner’s IT Career Begins

This cat isn’t playing anymore. He has:

  • Initiated a system audit
  • Run a diagnostic suite
  • Possibly applied for a job in IT

Honestly, the printer should automatically stamp each page:

“Triggered by: Banner the Menace.”

Emergency Protocol: Power Button

That was the last straw.
I turned off the power button.

They say most cats never figure out power buttons — they’re too flush, too boring, and they don’t make satisfying noises. Banner prefers the chaos buttons: the ones that beep, whirr, and spit out paper like a Vegas slot machine.

But on my printer, all the buttons are flush… and he’s already mastered those. I may not be safe unless I unplug the machine entirely.

Banner’s Troubleshooting Sequence

If he tries again, I fully expect him to follow the classic cat IT protocol:

  1. Stare at printer
  2. Tap it once
  3. Tap it harder
  4. Sit on it
  5. Yell at it
  6. Walk away like he never cared

He may not have been able to change the lightbulb for me, but he can run my printer like an IT pro.

The Printer’s Future Looks Grim

Who knows what he’ll get into next — especially once he borrows the orange cat brain cell again. Whatever he thinks of next, I just hope it doesn’t involve electricity, diagnostics, or anything with a paper tray.

Banner and his old printer before it bit the dust. I wonder if it got clogged with orange cat hair?

 

Chipmunks The clowns of Forest and Field

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Canadian chipmunk from Banf . Canada

A Chance Encounter With a Canadian Chipmunk

Recently I came across a photo of a Canadian chipmunk, supposedly taken in Banff National Park. The little guy looked like he’d survived a long, hard winter and had plenty of stories to tell. It got me thinking about these tiny rodents.

 

Cute or “Just Rats With Better PR”?

I’m firmly in the “chipmunks are cute” camp. I know plenty of people who insist they’re just rats in better outfits and would be happy to see them gone. But to me, chipmunks — along with their cousins the squirrels, prairie dogs, and other assorted rodents — add a spark of life to an ordinary day.

Banner and Balboa would absolutely agree. They spend hours at the window watching chipmunks sprint, freeze, and zig‑zag around the yard. Of course, being cats, I’m sure they’re imagining a lively snack if they ever managed to get outside.

Western Chipmunks: A Different Look Out WestWyoming Chipmunk

When I was in Wyoming, I spent a whole morning watching a pair of Western chipmunks. Naturally, I took a few photos — who could resist? They blended beautifully into the rocks and sagebrush, and they were definitely different from the chipmunks here in the East. Their colors felt more muted, more desert‑washed, like the landscape had rubbed off on them.

 

 

Lunch Buddies in the East

Back home, I like to see if I can coax the local chipmunks a little closer. I’ve shared my lunch with more than one — tossing out a French fry and watching the ritual unfold. They dart out, pause dramatically, then stuff the fry into their cheek pouches before sprinting back to safety. And then, of course, they’re right back again. They’re this perfect mix of bold and shy, and I find them absolutely adorable.

chipmunkClowns of the Forest and Field

I once heard someone say that squirrels are just rats with fluffy tails and better PR. Chipmunks, though technically squirrels, feel more like comedians. If puffins are the clowns of the sea, then chipmunks must be the clowns of the forest and field.

North America’s Chipmunk Jackpot

Here’s a fun fact: of the 25 chipmunk species in the world, all but one live in North America. One lone species lives in Asia. Clearly, we hit the jackpot.

New England Chipmunk

So Where Do You Stand?

Love ’em or hate ’em, chipmunks definitely make an impression. So where do you fall on the chipmunk spectrum — adorable woodland clown or tiny striped menace?

Secretariat – When a Horse Becomes a Legend

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Gone but not forgotten. “Bronze statue of Secretariat at Claiborne Farm in Kentucky, commemorating the Triple Crown winner’s historic career.”

 

A Tribute to Secretariat: America’s Super Horse

Now that Derby Day has come and gone for another year, I find myself thinking not just about the newest winner, but about the horse who still casts the longest shadow over the sport. Secretariat. Big Red. The legend who didn’t just win races — he redefined what greatness looked like on four legs.

Secretariat wasn’t simply fast. He was the Gretzky or Jordan of the racetrack — the kind of once‑in‑a‑generation athlete whose records don’t just stand; they dare anyone to even try. More than fifty years later, his times in all three Triple Crown races remain untouched. No other horse has come close.

The Making of a Legend

Born on March 30, 1970, Secretariat grew into a 16.2‑hand, 1,175‑pound chestnut with a stride so fluid it looked like he was skimming the ground. His conformation bordered on flawless, and during his three‑year‑old season he powered himself with 15 quarts of oats a day — fuel for the engine that would change racing forever.

In 1973, he became the first Triple Crown winner in 25 years. And he didn’t just win those races — he shattered them. His records in the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont Stakes still stand today.

The Belmont That Became a Myth

Even if Secretariat had never run another race, the 1973 Belmont Stakes would have secured his immortality. That day, he didn’t just win the Triple Crown — he obliterated it.

He ran the mile and a half in 2:24 flat, the fastest time ever recorded at that distance. And he won by 31 lengths. The camera literally couldn’t keep the rest of the field in the same frame. It remains one of the most astonishing athletic performances ever captured on film.

A Horse Who Became an American Icon

Secretariat wasn’t just a champion; he was a cultural phenomenon. Magazine covers. Headlines. Crowds who came simply to watch him walk. He was syndicated for millions under the agreement that he would retire after his three‑year‑old season — a decision that allowed him to begin a second career as a sire.

His influence is still everywhere. Nineteen of the twenty expected starters in the 2026 Kentucky Derby trace back to him. His bloodline continues to shape the sport.

He even made ESPN’s list of the 50 Greatest Athletes of the Century — the only non‑human on the list.

The Heart of a Champion

When Secretariat died at age 19 from laminitis, the necropsy revealed something that felt almost poetic: his heart was two and a half times the size of a typical Thoroughbred’s. Not diseased — just extraordinary.

Most racehorses are buried with only their head, heart, and hooves. Secretariat was buried whole at Claiborne Farm in Paris, Kentucky. Because how do you separate a legend into pieces?

The Legacy That Still Gallops On

Secretariat earned over $1.3 million on the track — more than $7.7 million today — and commanded a $70,000 stud fee. But his true legacy isn’t measured in money. It lives in the records that refuse to fall, the bloodlines that still dominate, and the way his Belmont replay can make even a casual viewer feel goosebumps.

For those of us who grew up horse‑crazy, Secretariat wasn’t just a racehorse. He was the embodiment of every dream we ever had about what a horse could be.

He still is.

Big Red forever.

 

 

 

Banner, My Little Helper

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Banner the cat gets ready to start his day with a cup of Joe.

A Day in the Life (With Cats, of Course)

My days are pretty full. A “typical” day — if such a thing exists — might include some housework. Believe it or not, I love cleaning my kitchen. I spend so much time in there that making it sparkle feels like restoring my natural habitat.

Then come the smaller chores: taking out the trash, scooping the kitty litter, doing laundry. Somewhere in there I carve out an hour or two with my resident lap cat, Balboa, to read a chapter or two from whatever book currently has its claws in me.

And of course, I always make time to write. Sometimes it’s a full post, sometimes it’s just a snippet to be polished later. In between all that, I pay bills, run errands, and do the weekly grocery run.

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The Chores I Don’t Love

What I do not enjoy are those little unplanned chores — the ones that ambush you. The smoke alarm starts chirping at 3 a.m. because the battery is dying. The toilet won’t stop running because it needs a new flapper (yes, I replace those too).

But the absolute worst offender?

Changing a light bulb.

The moment I drag out my ladder, all those ridiculous light‑bulb jokes start running through my head.
How many software engineers does it take to screw in a light bulb? None — it’s a hardware problem.
You know the type. How many have you heard?

My Ongoing Feud With the Ladder

So why does such a simple task bother me? One word: ladder. I can trip over my own feet with both of them firmly on the ground. When I use my step stool to reach the top shelf in the kitchen, I hold my breath. It’s only one step, but still…

The older I get, the more convinced I am that the ladder is out to get me. I even upgraded — tossed the old wooden one and bought a heavy‑duty rubber model that could probably support a small elephant. It’s sturdy, reliable, and still absolutely terrifies me.

Enter Banner: Supervisor of All Heights

But not my little helper.

Banner is fascinated. The moment I lock the ladder open, he’s right under my feet. Hmmm… could this be part of why I fear falling? Once the ladder is set, I’m ready to climb — in theory. In reality, I suddenly discover dozens of “urgent” tasks at ground level. Procrastination is an art form, and I am a master.

Banner, however, is not. He inspects each step with great seriousness, climbing all the way to the top. Once there, he surveys the kitchen like a tiny orange foreman. It is now his personal domain, and he is the supervisor of all that happens here. If only he had hands and opposable thumbs.

The Light Bulb Gets Changed… Just Not by Me

Did the light bulb get changed?
Yes. Yes, it did — but not by me or Banner.

My much younger, very kind neighbor came to rescue the old lady in distress. In minutes, the old bulbs were out, the new ones were in, and the crisis was over. As he stepped off the ladder he said, “Nice ladder — where’d you get that? And can I pet the cat?”

And just like that, the job was done.

Derby Day: The Two Minutes That Still Make Me Cry

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🐎 A Horse‑Crazy Girl at Heart

I’ve always been a reader, and like any self‑respecting teenage girl, I was mad for horses. I even managed to own a couple (much to my parents’ dismay), but I loved them, and back then I was a pretty fair horsewoman. Probably not now — but that girl is still in me somewhere.

As a young reader, I devoured every horse book I could get my hands on. The first book I ever owned — not borrowed from the library — was The Snow Filly

As a young reader, I devoured every horse book I could get my hands on. The first book I ever owned — not borrowed from the library — was The Snow Filly. I read it until the cover curled. Then came The Black Stallion series. If I’m remembering correctly (and it was many years ago), that wild black stallion eventually ran in the Kentucky Derby. Fiction, of course, but when you’re a horse‑crazy girl, who cares? Those stories were about heroes — and that’s all I needed.

Somewhere in those pages, my love for the Kentucky Derby was born.

The Magic of Post Time

Now I watch the Derby every year — and today is the day! The first Saturday in May. I’m not glued to the TV for the hats or the pomp or the endless pre‑race chatter. I only care about post time. I usually turn on the TV about 30 minutes before the race, just in time for the moment that still gives me goosebumps:

“Riders up!”

The bugle rings out. The horses leave the paddock in the post parade, heading toward the track and the starting gate. My heart starts pounding, and I try to pick a favorite — but who am I kidding? They’re all my favorites. I’d be a terrible handicapper.

The excitement builds as they load into the gate. Some horses walk in calmly. Others rear, dance, or fight the moment — nervous, anxious, full of fire. Then there’s a beat, a breath, a stillness.

And then they’re off.

The most exciting two minutes in sports is underway.

And I cry. Every single time. It’s just so amazing. If I ever get to go in person, I know I’ll embarrass myself. Who cries at a horse race? Everyone else cheers, but not me — I sob my heart out. Those magnificent horses are running with everything they have, and the thrill never fades.

I just love those two minutes.

Riders Up!