I accidentally watched the program “Toddlers and Tiaras”. Well, not accidentally, I just happened to change channels to it and was mesmerized because I could not believe my eyes. These little girls, some as young as 1 to 2 years old, were dressed to the nines, and parading around. Not just parading; they were strutting, posing provocatively, dancing provocatively, costumed in fancy ballgowns and made up with pounds of make-up including lashes, lipstick, hair pieces and get this, fake teeth called flippers.
I recalled Jon Benet. And realized that when parents parade their little girls around like that, it had to appeal to the basest of the worst that walk the earth: pedophiles. These little girls are a pedophile’s dream come true. The whole thing makes me very uncomfortable.
Don’t these moms and dads realize this? Why would anyone want their little girl to pose and look like a grown up? So they can win a trophy. At what cost?
Then I saw a preview of a new show: Honey Boo Boo. A pageant queen in the making. Honey Boo Boo looks like a normal little girl when not participating in a pageant, who seems to be from an almost normal background (wow, what a family, but you gotta love em. They are a prime example of country folk, I guess). But when she gets all made up, costumed, glued on lashes, lipstick and everything else, she doesn’t even look like herself.
I guess what I am trying to say is this: these little girls don’t look like little girls anymore. They look like miniature, tiny women and I believe these moms and dads are really doing these little girls a huge disservice. Children have such short childhoods anyway, so why are they being forced/encouraged to look like and act like grown ups? Like very sexy grown ups at that!
It is beyond me to try and figure out what the pay off could possibly be for anyone in this scenario. I guess they do it for the money because apparently there are some monetary prizes involved. But from where I am observing all of this, this whole thing, over time, has to cost a fortune to support, what with the different costumes/dresses that cost a small fortune, the shoes, the make-up, the hairpieces, the flippers, the traveling, the personal trainers, the time spent learning routines (instead of playing like a child should be), and last but not least, the misplaced priorities. The skewed/distorted view of beauty and god knows what else.
I guess I just don’t like to see little girls dressed up like and dancing around like strippers! Not a good thing, not in today’s world. Not in any world.
I never had any children but even I know this is not how little girls should be. They need to be little girls, not provocative, sexy, tiny women. I guess what I am trying to say is, I find all of this very shocking and I don’t like it. That’s my story, I am sticking to it.
I haven’t posted in a couple of days and I am not wondering why because I know why. It is the fosters. Four little kittens and one homeless mommy (Milkshake is her name) that I am fostering until they find their furever homes. All adorable, all sweet natured, all cute as buttons but the energy, OMG.
They are slowly redecorating my home in a new style I call Early Destruction. They are into everything, want to know how everything works so they can stop it from working. They love to see how things fall down, the smaller the item, the better. All so I won’t be able to find it later. They have to help me when it is feeding time, running from dish to dish to see who has the best serving. They move furniture around (not the big pieces, …..yet) and any throw rugs I have down are always in a new place when I get up in the morning, come home in the afternoon, well, at any time. And talk about things that go bump in the night. In my house, it is every night and many, many bumps. Their toys are EVERYWHERE and I don’t even want to talk about the kitty litter pans and the litter.
Okay, I will talk about the litter pans. I have four litter pans. I clean them at least twice a day. I feel like a slave to the pans. What is funny about cleaning the pans, possibly the only funny thing about it, is whenever I do scoop the litter, the kittens find this activity of the highest interest and just have to become part of the process, getting back into the pan and “helping me”. All four of them. And invariably after I finish the scooping, they have to test it, make sure it still works and it is still theirs. I did discover this though. The four pans are of 4 difference sizes, from small (for the kittens) to large (for the big cats). Can someone tell me why the big cats find the little litter pans so interesting and just have to use those instead? Jeepers!
One of the kittens greets me in a very special way. She flings herself at my face, not with claws or feet but with her face. Thank goodness she is so small. It is so cute but on several occasions, I was surprised and on one occasion, it hurt! She is the nuzzler in the group, just wanting to be as close to my face as she can get so she can give me kisses. I am going to miss her the most when she finds her furever home. She also had the sniffles when she arrived which I am treating with medication, however, on several occasions, when she is bestowing me with her little kitty kisses, she full-on sneezed in my face (I think she saves the sneezes just for me) and I was at first concerned. Am I going to catch a cat disease from this little kitten? Then I decided that if I were to get really sick or even pass away because of her sneezes, how cool would it be for me to catch a cat disease! To die from a cat disease! I know, I know, that’s really weird. But again, how apropos.
All I can say is this: in my house, I don’t need to put on any music, I have the music of kittens playing really really hard. Th crinkle of the crinkle tube, the bells on their little toys, the mews/yelps of them play fighting, the thumps and thunks of their little bodies running around and into things, the patter of their little feets, and last but not least, the purrs, such loud purrs, when they discover my lap and settle down.
Yeah, I am going to miss them.
But my curtains never stood a chance. Oh well, who needs curtains!
So along the same lines as yesterday’s blog, and addressing my own personal end-of-life wishes, I seriously hope I don’t end up as a feline entrée. I am making a concerted effort to not fall down in my house nor incur any grievous injuries if I do fall down. No more rickety chairs, lopsided picnic benches or off-kilter step ladders for me. Only sturdy appropriate safe step stools, ones with safety rails and maybe an alarm!
Oddly enough, I have had a discussion with close friend(s) on several occasions about personal decisions regarding funeral arrangements and other morbid death and after death themed topics.
Here is what I would like to happen after I die and I warn you, it is a little weird. And probably won’t happen but to me, it is a nice thought, one that kind of tickles me.
I have it on the best authority that cremains (the ashes recovered from a cremation) can be used as a glaze, an earthen kind of glaze, on pottery. That glaze, the cremains, can be utilized in the firing of a piece of pottery. I am not sure what that glaze would look like but last I checked, I would probably at that point not care.
So I decided I would like to be cremated, and then the cremains would be used as that glaze on a bowl which would then be used as a cat food bowl. That way, I could continue to “feed kitty cats” after I am gone. I have been feeding cats all of my adult life (and most of my earlier life as well) so I would love to continue doing so after death too. A legacy!
Not all of the kinks are worked out on this plan, including who would be in charge of the choosing of the bowl, who would make sure I became a glaze, where and with who would the bowl eventually end up with, and which cats would be eating their kitty meals from me? All good questions, right?
I wonder how many bowls I could actually glaze?
I told you it was weird.
So I have reached an age, one during which many could/would wonder … now what or ….. what’s next? Especially during these times of economic turmoil, real estate upheaval, job scarcity and even less resources, currently affecting so many in this country and around the world. Scary times.
Being alone, with no children, I cannot help but wonder what will become of me. Now that I am in my autumn chicken years, long past being a spring chicken, I cannot help but ask who will be there for me when and if I (1) get sick , (2) get hurt or (3) get dementia. What will happen if I truly do end up homeless and penniless, and ultimately fall through the cracks. It is very frightening and it is keeping me up at night, a bad thing when I really need my rest now that I am getting on in years.
I found myself the other day figuring out how many years I might be expected to live versus how many years each of my cats would be expected to live and when and at what age should I not adopt/rescue any kittens versus my life span. It is probably time for me to only adopt/rescue elderly cats.
I have also on several occasions done something rather foolish in my house, involving the climbing of ladders/step stools and other dangerous objects to accomplish a task, only to lose my balance, flail about and come close to falling or actually fall, which got me thinking. So far, my past falls have not resulted in too much bodily damage aside from the terrible bruise last time on my hip along with both thumbs being sprained and still healing. But what would happen to me if I did fall, with a really bad injury which prevented me from getting up and what if I ended up either in my fenced-in back yard or in my house unable to get up or call for help. I could realistically die there. I don’t have that many people in my life, what with my being single, not dating, not too many friends, well, not any that call me every day to check on me. I have one friend who does that, calls me every day to make sure I am okay, however, I don’t know what he would do if I didn’t answer the phone. He lives far away and doesn’t have a car. I really don’t want to put that to the test , BTW.
Further contemplation of the above scenario made me realize this: my cats would eventually and very possibly eat me. I would still be, even after my passing, feeding them. I have heard stories about that happening and for some strange reason, it was not a disturbing contemplation but one of “that’s okay, how so very apropos”.
I would just want them to wait until after my passing; no early snacking! That would be rude and probably hurt.
It has been a while since I posted and it just seems like everything caught up with me this past week or so. It is not like I have a really busy schedule or anything like that but I really could use a few extra hours each day along with some extra energy to accomplish more stuff during those much wished for extra hours.
I don’t know what changed this past week or two. Is it age, catching up with me when I stopped to catch my breath? Or is it that I am still adjusting to a new schedule, what with a little part time job in the middle of the day which sort of cuts my day and ability to finish stuff in half, sorta kinda? Or could it be that the 4 little foster kittens that I volunteered to take care while they are waiting to be adopted are taking up a lot of my time and energy?
Could very well be those kittens. They are up to no good all day. Absolutely adorable and endless amounts of energy. And noisy too! I don’t know how much longer I will be their foster mom. I will be missing them and their antics when they finally get their forever homes. Most likely it will be one by one and someone in the four will end up all by itself. Poor things. But I do feel good about saving these little darlings. One at a time or in my case, 4 at a time. I am trying to get some good pics of each of them but it is an almost impossible task. They are in perpetual motion.
Here is a little description of each of them. Jaspurr is one of the blacks, very sweet and loving, a lap cat with
slightly longer fur than his brother but still a short hair. He is very laid back and not too concerned about loud noises or things unknown. Will probably get him into trouble later on.
His brother is Junipurr, the other half of the Purr brothers. He started out as a little more cautious and shy, had kind of scruffy fur, with a greyish colored undercoat, due most probably to poor nutrition. He has now come out of his shell, is very sweet and loving, and his fur is now healthy and shiny. He is a black patent leather beauty, sleek and sinewy.
The third foster is Biscuit, a beautiful cream tiger, with very unusual coloring. He is the biggest of the four, a total sweetie. He was rescued from a shelter and certain death. Another lap kitty for sure. In fact, he is helping me post this blog right now, standing in front of the screen trying to catch the cursor. He is thankfully not too big so I can still see some of the computer screen. What a great little helper!
The last but not the least is little Dulce, who came with her name. A little tiger girl who just wants to be with her people. She arrived with Biscuit but they are not related. She also came from a shelter, saved from a certain death. She also had the sniffles so I have had to give her medications for it and she does not like medicine. But she is feeling better. Another lap cat for sure, who also likes to bestow many kisses upon the faces of her people. She is a total cuddle bunny, likes to curl up and snuggle. A real cutie pie for sure.
As an animal lover, I of course subscribe to all of the animal stuff: animal rights, animal rescue, animal heroes, animal abuse, animal stories, animal YouTube, on and on and on. It was the primary reason and impetus behind my volunteering for the animal rescue group I am now with. And of course, one link leads to another, you get the picture. And don’t even get me started on the don’t eat meat, vegetarian/vegan stuff. Facebook played a big part in my decision to wander down that avenue too.
But the sad thing is, all of this animal rescue stuff also includes all of the horrible things people do to animals and all of the animals (with pictures) that were put to sleep each day. Did you know that in this country approximately 10,000 dogs and cats are euthanized EACH day? Yeah, you read that right. Every day, 10,000 beautiful little critters, that’s 10,000 unconditionally loving dogs and slightly unconditionally loving cats meet their end, And those ends are often in gas chambers which is another horrific story in itself. And yes, I am part of the campaign to put an end to that atrocity. So for each little rescue that comes across my Facebook page each day, there is without a doubt hundreds that didn’t make it and their pictures make my heart ache and I cry. I hate it. And it is every day!
Getting back to the numbers: 10,000 each day and let’s calculate only 5 days per week, 52 weeks in the year. That’s giving those shelter peeps the weekend off from all that killing. So the numbers are: 50,000 per week and 2,600,000 per year. That is a lot of dogs and cats.
And you know what would go a long way towards reducing those numbers……yeah, that’s right. Spay and neuter. If I was president, puppy mills would be outlawed, they would just plain be against the law. That will take care of one of the most shameful things this country allows to be done to “man’s best friend”. Have any of you out there even seen what these mills looks like? It is totally disgusting. And some of the biggest offenders in the puppy mill trade with all of its horribleness is (drum roll please) the Amish! Did you know that? That fact totally changed my outlook about them. That’s for sure.
It has reached the point, what with all of this ridiculous breeding (greed driven), this country has huge numbers of purebreds filling up our shelters, and to top even that, people are charging big bucks now for “designer dogs”. When I was growing up, we called them mutts! I fear common sense and priorities are getting lost, and I am guessing it may well be a part of the dumbing down of America. Well, that’s working.
Getting back to spay and neuter and if I was president. No more puppy mills and mandatory, free spay and neuter clinics. It is the only solution to this horrible, horrible problem. I remember when I first heard someone tell me they wanted their dog/cat to have one litter so their children could witness the miracle of birth. If I was a bitch (at that time: I may actually be one now), I would have told them to take their children down to the shelter to witness the miracle of death too. A good follow up, a full circle of life and death. It is only fair and children deserve a well rounded education as preparation for what I envision may not be a nice future.
Life sucks but death sucks worse.