Two of the five Lark/not Lark kittens have transitioned to being indoor cats. The other three remain outside. I still don't feed cats outside, so I'm trying to lure them in to at least eat, and to get them socialized enough to be friendly, but still standoffish enough that Nina might adopt one.
I had previously mentioned the book Doubt, which is a history of atheism and agnosticism down through the centuries. It's also a pretty good overview of western philosophy. As I've mentioned before, I've read a lot eastern philosophy, but the only work of western philosophy I've read is Jonathan Livingston Seagull. So now I'm kind of up to speed on the players in western philosophy, at least up until the end of the 18th century, which is as far as I've gotten with the book.
Got the oil changed in the car today. I really dislike sitting in those little dirty waiting rooms in the oil change places, with the old copies of People Magazine and the crappy little TV with rabbit ears that can't pick up any channel clearly. But I found a place with a sandwich shop nearby, so I dropped the minivan off at the oil change place and had lunch at the sandwich place. Then I went for a short walk around the northwest corner of Mesta Park.
I also made my daily appearance at the coffee shop.
The sandal is still missing.
Every day is Saturday, as I've mentioned before.
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An event happened last night in the Marley drama. My daughter decided what Marley needs is a dog, which is code for she wants me to have a dog - for her. She convinced me to at least meet the dog and proceeded to bring over what was described to her as a Lab mix, since I mentioned in the past I would be interested in a Lab.
My daughter just knew I would fall madly in love and become so attached I would rescue it from the threat of "the shelter."
Never mind that the dog looks of a Border Collie mix and not a Lab, has not been spayed and only God knows if it has really had all its shots. As the story unravels, what was presumed to be a dog that had a home but longing for a family who has quality time to give, the orphan story of a stray someone adopted then wanted to bail on became quite evident.
As I protested that I do not know this dog's history and that I am uncomfortable taking on drama and possible doggie health issues within my serene life, reminding her of the emotional and financial costs of the little Beagle Sonny, my daughter says that I cannot let that experience cloud "all dogs." Then she hands me the bottle of antibiotics the vet had given the "owners" for a dangling toe nearly cut off, as I watch the dog hobble around.
As I listen to my daughter go on and on about how this dog "makes her heart sigh" (?) and trying to guilt me in the whole thing, I realize Marley isn't in the yard.
Somehow having a dog around helped him remember how to climb a fence.
So there's that.
faejq
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