Clear Skies Ahead

Posted on January 21, 2014January 21, 2014 by Dusty Roads

I’ll be heading to San Diego soon. It’s just a quick business trip. I haven’t said much about it here because there wasn’t any planning. The company told me when to fly out, where I would stay, what meetings to attend and when to come back. I would have loved to extend my time there for some sight-seeing but I’m still squaring away my new budget and felt the added expense would be more stressful than the time away would be worth.

I will be flying Southwest Airlines out of Providence. Most of my colleagues are flying JetBlue out of Logan in Boston. I wasn’t expecting the reaction from my co-workers when I attended a recent meeting at my office. My boss made an announcement cautioning all to be prepared for anything from delays to getting snowbound but some of my friends chipped in with “Or going to the wrong airport”.

http://www.cnn.com/2014/01/13/travel/southwest-plane-wrong-airport/index.html

Maybe you heard about it. On Sunday, Jan 12 a Southwest Airlines Jet carrying 124 passengers landed at a little Missouri airport about 7 miles from their destination of Branson. The landing was without mishap even though the little regional airport isn’t set up for larger jets and the runway is only 3,738 ft. compared to the runway at Branson which is 7,140.

The pilots recognized the shortness of the runway and managed to brake in time to prevent disaster but to add insult to injury the flight attendant announced “Welcome to Branson.” Then, after a few moments, the pilot came on and said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to tell you we landed at the wrong airport.'”

Whew…if I were that pilot my face would be so red!

To their credit, Southwest didn’t just apologize for the inconvenience, they put their money where their mouth is. Southwest issued this written statement: “We have since reached out to each customer directly to apologize, refund their tickets and provide future travel credit as a gesture of goodwill for the inconvenience.”

I’d take a landing at the wrong airport when no one is hurt in exchange for free tickets and credits any day. I’d consider it an “adventure.” 🙂 Maybe I’m a little nuts?

Anyway, the pilot and co-pilot, both very experienced officers are currently suspended while the incident is investigated. Airline insiders say these things do happen but very rarely so I guess my odds of getting a free ticket for a landing at the wrong airport just took a nose dive.

Photo of the Week~ Week 3

Posted on January 20, 2014January 20, 2014 by Dusty Roads

The tally was incredibly close once again. If this keeps up sooner or later we’re bound to get a tie. Only 5 points separated them! Runner up is Rocky Sleeps

The score is made up of the total of the number of hits, the number of blogger likes, the number of comments and the number of shares. The picture which gets the most when they are all added together is the winner for the week. It’s a lot more fair than counting on me to be objective. After all, I picked the subjects and have my favorites too. 🙂

The number #1 Photo this Week is Snow Again!

The stats are from the companion blog, www.dustyroadsphotos.com so be sure to head there for your likes and hits to be counted. And remember, making comments and sharing to your facebook feed count too.

A “Clowder” of Purrr-sonalities~6

Posted on January 19, 2014January 19, 2014 by Dusty Roads

Well that theme kind of got away from me.

I’ve read that when a novelist starts writing they don’t know where the story will end up. They start with an outline and change it as the characters evolve. I think that’s what happened in this series.

When I started A “Clowder” of Purrr-sonalities” I was only going to write one short post mainly featuring Buddy and how much he has grown and changed in the year he’s been here. What prompted it was what happened after my shower that morning.

Buddy came in the bathroom right after I got out of the shower. He sat on the towel at my feet and watched me with the hair dryer. I took a minute to give him his morning “blow dry” . Then he did something that concerned me. He hopped in the tub, which was still wet from my shower and started licking the bottom of the tub.

He didn’t seem to care that his butt was getting wet and there wasn’t all that much water if he was thirsty. I was afraid there might be some soap residue so I ran to the kitchen for a trusty plastic bowl, filled it from the sink and set that in the tub.

Buddy checked it out, looked at me and proceeded to take a long drink.

Cats can be territorial and recently I read that they don’t like to have their water right next to their food. Rocky will drink from the pet fountain but Smokey and Buddy do not.

Smokey and Buddy prefer the green plastic bowl in the living room. Even Rocky occasionally drinks there.

So maybe Buddy is being pushed aside when it comes to water. I hadn’t noticed it but then I don’t sit and stare at them either. So now my tub now has a plastic bowl of water in it too.

See how short that was? Kind of hard to believe it evolved into a mini book! I think I’ll give you and the cats a rest for a little while. Let them do something special before I make them a subject again.

A “Clowder” of Purrr-sonalities~5

Posted on January 18, 2014January 18, 2014 by Dusty Roads

I do believe cats mourn. After Little Joe left us Rocky wandered around the apartment like he was searching for something. The most bizarre thing he did was climb up to a picture of Little Joe , paw at it and meow. Even Smokey was subdued.

Eventually life went on and I moved. Unfortunately I moved from a 2 bedroom apartment to a one bedroom condo. Rocky and Smokey would have to adjust to sharing a little smaller territory. I was concerned about that so I filled the condo with cat trees and perches where they could look outside.

Kitty toys are piled in baskets that they plow through and drag out at their leisure. Cat races from bedroom to living room and back to the bedroom are common and Rocky loves playing hide and seek in the cat tunnel.

Rocky is still the hardest one to entertain. He still gets into everything. I opened the linen closet doors to find him perched there.

I have learned to block the trifold doors or Rocky will open those and get himself locked in closets.

Smokey is my lap cat.

He visits my lap for a little while every night and still purrs loudly. Life seemed to be settling back into a routine again when along came Buddy.

I believe when it comes to cats, they find you. I didn’t want another cat when Rocky came along. I accepted Smokey to be a companion to Rocky and to give Little Joe some relief. Then I tried to re-home Buddy …twice but he was a boomerang cat. He just kept coming back.

Buddy, another boy! Poor Buddy! Once again, Rocky was the one to accept the newcomer first. He’d follow Smokey’s lead and hiss but if Smokey wasn’t around he wanted to make friends.

Buddy joined us just about a year ago for the first time. I have chronicled his journey here before so I won’t spend too much time. I’ll just update you that he has come a long way. He’s my “Bud” joining me for primping in the morning, lounging on a cat tree and just staring or playing with Rocky and even Smokey when Mr. Cranky Pants is willing.

Buddy may have a touch of pica too. He likes to lick the emulsion from photo paper. He can dismantle my printer completely, even pulling the trays out, to get to that paper. Then he carries it around with him everywhere. At least he doesn’t eat the paper.

Today, Rocky remains the most active, Buddy and Rocky together are a great team of escape artists who also enjoy a good wrestling match.

Smokey seems to be moving into his twilight years, he gets disoriented, he doesn’t see as well but he seems happy. So for now, life will continue on. They are all so different. But one thing is the same, they are all bundles of love and joy. My little furr-by family.

A “Clowder” of Purrr-sonalities~4

Posted on January 17, 2014January 17, 2014 by Dusty Roads

Little Joe was really getting up in years. Persians have a shorter lifespan than many other breeds, probably because of their “smooshed” in noses. In any case he was starting to growl and hiss at his formerly good buddy, Rocky. Rocky would try to play and Little Joe would try to get away and head for the hills. Plus Rocky was coming into his prime and turning into a good sized cat!

I felt bad for Little Joe. I figured he deserved some peace in his old age. While visiting friend who had 9 cats I learned she was being forced to re-home all but 3. The city she lived in had a pet restriction to try to prevent animal hoarding..no more than 3 cats in any home. She was desperate.

While we talked one of her 9 cats kept rubbing around my legs. When I didn’t give it any attention it jumped right into my lap and then climbed up my chest to get right in my face. Most cats don’t like to stare but this one locked his bright green eyes on mine as if to say, I’m yours. His purr was so powerful it vibrated his whole body. In that moment of weakness I told her if she was stuck, I’d take him. His name was Smokey.

Now if you have ever tried to find a home for a cat you know how hard it is. So not surprisingly about 2 weeks later I got a call. Would I still take Smokey? Could I come pick him up? By now I’d had second thoughts but I put myself in her shoes and kept my promise. Smokey came to live with Little Joe, Rocky and me. We were now a 3 cat household… a 3 cat- all male cat – household.

All the boys were neutered so that was a good thing. Little Joe and Rocky had all their claws. I do not believe in de-clawing. Smokey was a beautiful, gentle longhaired gray cat but somewhere along the line someone had de-clawed him.

Rocky welcomed the newcomer right away. A new playmate – but Little Joe would have nothing to do with this interloper. I tried the slow introduction, the challenge line with food, the territory swap, pheromones, everything I could think of but Little Joe hated Smokey. Fur flew often and Smokey didn’t back down just because he had a handicap.

About a year after Smokey joined us and an uneasy truce had finally been established, Little Joe began to fail. The Vet ran all kinds of tests and from December to March I lived at the vet’s office trying to find out what was wrong. Little Joe had stomach cancer. By the time it was found the tumor was so large that it filled most of the stomach cavity and Little Joe was starving to death. He had deteriorated to the point that he was too weak for surgery so the Vet recommended we release him and put him down.

Little Joe had just celebrated his 14th birthday. I held him when the vet administered the medications. There was just one small sigh and he was gone. Suffer no more, my baby! RIP.

It’s been years since I said good bye to Little Joe but I still cry when I remember those last moments. Letting go is the hardest part of being a pet guardian.