A long time ago in my first life I was the provider/partner of a cat named Weldon that I called Butt. Butt was definitely an indoor cat declawed and neutered as a relatively cheap service from the shelter.
(Humphrey is the cat looking at the camera and Napoleon is the cat still asleep.) As in my previous relationship with a cat, I am thinking about nicknaming them Jackk and Asss or Andd and Orr.
Now that I am the temporary provider/partner to my youngest daughter's and husband's two cats, neither of which are declawed, I was hoping that they would avail themselves more of the outdoors once I made it available. Indeed, they have gone out but with the drizzle and coolness, have often come right back in. From the state of their litter box, they do at least go out to do some of their duty, although not all of it. It is good that they aren't using the litter box as extensively as they did the first two weeks. I need to get more litter.
Humphrey was asleep on my bed almost all of today. While I was hoping that Napoleon was availing himself of the great outdoors after he demanded attention from me right when I was attempting to do my morning stretches/back exercises. After my leg stretches, I gave up and gave him attention. He enjoyed it so much he was kneading the thin pants I had on at the time with the net effect of partially kneading my skin. Unfortunately or fortunately, this kneading did not scratch the patch of Poison Oak I discovered on my leg. (I almost went out and bought some treatment potion but found a bottle of Caladryl last night and have used it repeatedly to good but not yet curing effect.)
However, they both did go out just before I was going to feed them and lock them in for the night. The bike bell was effective in calling them in though. They really love their meat in gravy.
Yesterday on my walking 10,000 aerobic steps, which I did not walk today, I happened to be doing some of it while the local high school was doing endurance or cross-country training. (It may have been the wrestling team for all I know.) Anyway, a couple of them were not running, which put me in mind of my high school running experience. Then I did not exert myself to find my limits. In other words, I never ran so hard that I puked. I suppose this same lack of stretching myself was true in other areas as well. School work was so easy that I averaged reading a fiction book a day. Most of them were short but some of them were not. I can now attest that some wisdom does come with age. Now I am more willing to go to my limits but, at least in the physical side, my limits are much closer.
After an interlude of somewhat sporadic, even rare, meditation, I am once again stepping up to it daily. I still cannot say that I am doing it right, or if right, well, but I am achieving a peace from it that encourages me to do it again. I am also attempting to do it longer at least twice a day. However, the best meditation sessions have been the third one done in the middle of one of my walks. I have only done this two or three times so far but each has been very rewarding. There is something about being in the great outdoors...
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