June 18, 2020
Day 1,649
There is a cat in town who spends her days in Pinky’s, a bargain store where almost everything is on sale for two dollars, or more, or less, depending. Her name is unknown. Cats don’t tell us their names. They will tell you that you may serve them and that they enjoy your company so long as no demands are placed on them and the food keeps coming. They do this by returning, purring, rubbing up against whatever is handy in your vicinity and presenting themselves to be scratched. The people who work at Pinky’s call her Alley Cat and she has been a fixture there for eight years, patrolling the aisles or holding court on the counter between the cash registers. When the weekend comes one of the ladies takes her home and on Monday morning back they come together. Alley Cat is set down outside the store and roams at will the local environs until she decides it is time for her to be inside. She will then plant herself at the closed doors and wait patiently for someone to go in or out, at which time she will walk in, jump up on the counter or disappear in the back. She is friendly and likes to be stroked or have her head rubbed. She lives her life receiving love and giving love.
Smart cat. Lucky people.
There is a dog who spends his days at an auto repair shop on the edge of the industrial area just outside of Whitianga. Going into town you round a sweeping turn on the highway and look way up the road on the right. If he’s there, he’ll be standing close to the verge, holding a sturdy black radiator hose in his mouth, watching oncoming traffic for a special vehicle only he knows. When he sees it he lunges or prances and shakes the hose and runs back and forth with obvious and contagious joy. If he’s not by the road and it’s summer he can sometimes be seen in the shade of a two-sided sign arranged like an A-frame under a nearby tree. The grass is un-mown there, long and soft and cool. Sometimes he can be seen supervising an important job taking place inside the garage but most of the time he on duty by the road. Leaving town he’s on the left, a hundred metres past the turn to the refuse centre. Lately when I see him I’ve taken to lightly tapping my horn as we approach and to my delight, Horace (our name for him, not his), tail wagging happily, grabs the hose off the ground at his feet and jumps and shakes it vigorously. I swear you can see him smiling as we pass.
He’s made a friend, said hello, invited us to play and lives in a state of sheer joy that he passes on to all who see him.
Two creatures, both conscious and aware, happy with their place in the world, full of joy, spreading love. Never saying a word.
Miracles abound.
ironwoodwind 
Animals are so much wiser than us; they live for the good times and seem to quickly move past their troubles. Their pleasure is unbridled, their joy (as you say), contagious.
Pepsi, my only girl, loves nothing more than to hunt in the space between our basement ceiling and kitchen floor. The humans in the house frown upon these expeditions, not least because when she comes out, her white fur is black and soon so is our floor. The price of admission is a bath, gentle and warm but uncomfortably WET, followed by an evening by a warm heater or sunny window and a vigorous (unwanted) brush. But next day, the price is paid and the floor void beckons again. Some might read this as an inability to learn, but I believe she knows full well the pros and cons … and still chooses adventure every time.
Dear Jen,
What a wonderful story. Pepsi sounds like a delightful cat. I love the way they absolutely know their own minds. Knowing what I know about cats, I have to think that secretly, Pepsi likes the special treatment you give her after her hunting expeditions. She probably goes in the void and rolls around for a while and then saunters back for her bath (and love). Lucky cat.
I hope you are faring well and staying low. It was nice to ‘hear’ your voice.
Yours,
Doug
Somehow I missed this reply, Doug. Thank you. Yes, she is a fuss bucket, so she probably likes the attention even if it’s given in unwanted ways.
Her brother takes the simpler approach of sleeping on my arm.
They may be lucky, but I feel lucky to have them.
J
It is a post like this that reminds me what a special writer you are, Doug.
Hi Ted,
Thanks for your kind comment. (Can you see my tail wagging?) You made my day.
I hope all is well on your island fastness and that you are surviving the madness.
Yours, staying low as our numbers rise again,
Doug
Thanks for posting a calm, nice to read post. Sometimes this is just what is needed after reading some of the ones with anger in them.
Dear Geri,
Let me return the favour by thanking you for your comment. My exasperation at some people and events has shown in some of my Diary of a Pandemic entries and I’ve made a conscious decision to change this by focusing on the everyday miracles I see in this golden time in my life. I’ve already seen that people (you, thanks) respond in kind. Like sunflowers turning to follow the sun as it moves across the sky each day, we seek the light in our world rather than the dark. Thank you for helping me see this, and to shine.
Sincerely,
Doug
Keep shining, you are doing a great job.
Dear Doug,
What Ted said, 😉 <3. There are things I miss about having animals in the house (unless you count the two of us). We're on our way back to Missouri from Arkansas after spending a couple of days with the Gayers and their playful white boxer, Liza Jane. Already missing her.
Loved reading about Alley Cat and Horace. Miracles do abound if we can only open our inner eyes and see them.
Love, more love and even more shalom to you both,
Rochelle
Hi Rochelle,
Thanks for stopping in to read and comment. I had a hard time reading it though. Seems WordPress has added a feature that lets one know if the author is writing while driving (or riding) in a car. The letters wiggle and the words bounce up and down…
Or maybe it’s just my tail wagging.
Love to you and yours. Stay safe and sane (never mind:) and enjoy the ride.
Yours,
Doug
P.S. Thanks for the typo tip.
😘🤣🤣❤️
I’ve always been a horse person, but they don’t fit too well into suburban lives or homes and are terrible expensive. So I indulge when in Wyoming during the summer and am so very thankful that in another month I’ll be there or at least on my way. We had several rescue pits bulls while living in Cleveland and they were so sweet and loving. Our younger daughter in Philly rescued a cat from the street and she’s a sort of dog, in that she likes to sit in your lap or sometimes around our daughter’s neck like some sort of cat stole. Cats believe you belong to them, while dogs are thrilled beyond belief to belong to you. Therein lieth the difference. 🙂
Cheers and <3,
janet
Hi Janet,
Yes, dogs have owners and cats have staff. Horses have people who bring them hay cubes and some who ride them. They see ghosts everywhere and see themselves in other horses, which is why they buddy up whenever possible.
I like the cat stole image. Thanks for that.
Stay low and enjoy the day.
Cheers,
Doug
Mr. DM ! I have to admit that I am missing your banter and do hope we have not seen the end of such engaging penmanship. It may be difficult to find real positive uplifting words of wisdom these days, but your words delivered that apt message. I feel a void now and aspire for verbal reasoning. In this world today it feels right to temper runaway enthusiasm while still paying appropriate tribute to those who make it a better place. Like Alley Cat in this Covid world, I am about 95% Feral now and wont be able to be integrated back into society !
Hope we get a blog thats chockablock full of more tidbits from Mr. Doug
Justin