Miss Mitty is one brave and lovely meow. She has been very welcoming to our new kittie friend. I’m so proud of her.  But she is also a bit lonely.  Tonight new kitty goes into the living room and Miss Mitty comes into my room

The new kitty, all black including nose, whiskers and paw pads but for one dime sized spot of white on her chest, came to me named Jackie. This was because she came to the cat rescue lady as Blackie and said lady couldn’t stand it. Well, while Jackie isn’t horrible, it really doesn’t suit her.

Saturday night found The Beloved and I in bed around midnight calling out possible names. None of which convinced her to come out from under the bed. I was beginning to worry just a bit because there was no evidence she had eaten or had any water since the evening before and her little box remained clean.

She did give much love to The Beloved (duh!) and spent the night under the covers of the bed. She has become a little more brave every day.  She has eaten and drunk and left evidence. Last evening she was on the bed on top of the covers. Watching the door to the living room just in case Miss Mitty was lurking about. Poor Miss MItty.

T.B. called me last night and we have a new name. These are the clues that helped us uncover the correct name.

• One of the names we yelled out was Xena
• The small white spot reminds T.B. of the black side of a yin/yang symbol
• The fact that she likes to talk
• Our favorite character in the Xena series is Lao Ma

I forgot the camera so have no pictures but imagine a full black cat with a pointy little face and bright green eyes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Lao Mao. And she seems to like it although she may never come when called.

Tonight I put her in the living room and bring Miss Mitty into my room so that Lao gets used to the rest of the pad and Miss Mitty doesn’t feel too neglected. Miss MItty usually sleeps on my bed and typically when I’m reading a book in bed before lights out, she rubs on the book until I put it down and then we have a Kitty Love Fest. We are overdue.

I’m sick but at work today. This sore throat crud is going around and I feel like, well, crud. I may or may not go home early. Sorely tempted. A little tired of getting sick. At work, the entire team is housed on a long  narrow interior hallway and there isn’t much air movement that clears the stale air out. I think we keep getting each other sick. *sigh*

Work progresses on Yule prezzies, shopping is done done done, and life is good. We had a lovely snow on Saturday. Our first snow fall as a couple. I got the house decorated, we had christmas movies, hot cocoa and snacks, candlelight, while watching the snow fall. Gorgeous, romantic, cozy. I’ve been wanting to do that my entire life. And at 48 it finally happened. You just never know.

The snow was gone by the next noon which suited us both just fine. We got the romance of the snow for one day and that was all we needed.

A friend posted a blog entry asking for people to comment with something either thought provoking and controversial.  I read this and don’t know if this person is for real or just being controversial but:

“All Palestinians who do not want to become tax paying Israeli citizens should be compensated for their real estate and given a one way ticket to Saudi Arabia.”

I just want to bitch slap her.  HARD.  I don’t want to do that on my friend’s blog so I kept it do a minimum

“Perhaps all white people who don’t want to stop raping and pillaging the land of the Native Americans should be compensated for their SUVs and their McDonald’s and given a one way ticket to the land of their dna ancestry.”

I remember visiting my Grandfather’s half sister back in the early 80’s. She fed us a big spread and invited some friends.  My uncle, always thinking, asked them how they felt about the white flight from their very small agricultural town and one visitor said, “More would have stayed if it wasn’t for the smokey colored people.”  Silence.  My uncle left and had his dinner in the RV.  I was too young to be that bold.  But this kind of thing just makes me sick.

As if the Israeli’s have the right to someone else’s land by force more than any one else does.  The more the conflict between Israel and Palestine continues, the more I come to have disdain for the Israelis.  Can’t help it.  Sure, they want a place of their own but why does that give them right to someone else’s place of their own?  With bombs and terrorism and on and on and on and on and on.

fucking humans.

*headdesk*

I wanna go home and go to bed with my head under the covers for a couple hours.  I started my period this morning and that is hard enough without losing Orlando.  Can’t wait for the work day to be over.

*headundercovers*

If these two can sleep and live peacefully everything should work out well with Miss Mitty and Jackie.

Found this on a cute and new blog, The Daily Coyote.

The cat lady suggested that Ophelia is really Orlando since the gender identity flipped. So Orlando it is. And Orlando he was. I went to the vet to pick him up this morning. I was going to release him in my yard and then go on to work. I was notified when I arrived (which is totally OK) that Orlando passed away some time in the night. He woke from the anesthesia yesterday and they are puzzled as to why he didn’t make it over night.

I figure it could be any reason. Too much stress, heart murmur, knowing that he didn’t want to live in the wild but he couldn’t live this lifetime with humans either. I don’t know. The Beloved is going to try and contact him on lunchbreak and see if there is any message for me. I have of course sent my own.

I’m sure going to miss you my wild beautiful boy.

I’m glad that if he was going to pass away that he did it where we could find him, where he was safe, and where he will be taken care of. I couldn’t bear the idea of him dying of cold or a car or disease. I guess this is for the best but damn, it hurts.

Yesterday I had been looking online for prayers to Bast and all I could find were death prayers. Of course there are more prayers to Bast than that but I did keep finding the death prayers. I guess she was trying to tell me. But honestly, I wasn’t ready to hear it until this morning.

*sniff*

Goodnight, my lovely brave wild boy, may flights of the fae wing you to your peace and may your next life be one of warmth, love, food, and whatever you heart desires but wasn’t sure you could have. I’ll see you next time around.

Update: Oh. My. Goddess. I just realized that this related to my journeys with The Morrigan and Hekate. Doh! It sure isn’t fun being the one to help wild critters pass over.

Update 2:  This is what The Ex received when he contacted Orlando:

He is happy and relieved — no more pain or cold or fear.
 
He knows you love him and he’s grateful for that.
 
You didn’t think of this on your own — there is a bigger picture — and because of the connection you made with him, he was anxious to leave so he could come back again but closer to people.
 
He’s still there on the patio — listen for him.
 

And what’s funny is I’ve felt all day that he released the body on purpose.  It wasn’t sick, he just wanted to throw the dice again for a better, cozier life.  And they are predicting cold and snow for tomorrow.

This site is new to me but the author is not.  I love her work.  And she is now offering it for sale. But mostly?  The quality of the clothing she is making for reenactors is something I’ve only dreamed of.  At any rate, to those who are interested in this kind of thing, even in Colonial period, enjoy.

The Village Green Clothier

And a gallery from a European group.  Nice kit.