?

Log in

No account? Create an account

April 18th, 2007

Meow



-The Gneech
Last night was going to get unseasonably cold again, so in order to keep our houseguest from turning into a Buddhacicle we opened the garage door and propped some pressboard slats in front of the lower half in an effort to make the garage warmer.

I'm not sure it didn't just have the effect of making the house colder, but it was worth a try, anyway.

One side effect of this was that we (or at least I) could hear Buddha meowing off and on in the night. Again, not a behavior of cats that haven't grown up around people. (Neither is being litterbox-trained, which Buddha definitely has been.) Cats that grow up in the wild don't generally meow, and when they do they don't talk up a storm about it.

The first time Buddha gave us one of these nocturnal dissertations was just as I was getting ready to turn off the light; laurie_robey was already asleep. After a few minutes of this, I went down and talked to him a bit, which seemed to calm him down. I think the poor old boy is just lonely, and I can't really blame him. We've had him locked up in the garage, after he's spent some unknown amount of time fending for himself in the wild ... not exactly the most social of situations.

Of course, the irony of him being lonely is that he's also a scaredy-cat of rare form -- so when we go in there to keep him company, he just presses himself firmly into the darkest corner and hisses at us if we get within five feet. But then when we leave, he starts mrowling pitiably again.

When he's shaved and bathed (and fixed), maybe we can let him roam the house, we'll see. There are rumors that it'll happen this weekend, if one of the many cat-rescue people we've spoken to actually materializes instead of just being an occasional voice over the phone.

Until then, it's still a cold concrete slab and midnight mrowling, I'm afraid. I feel bad about it, but I still think he's better off here than roaming the streets -- or the gas chamber.

-The Gneech

Tags:

A Great Bit

Noro lim, Asfaloth!

Reread that section of the book last night. The chase itself was rather different -- but the conclusion was mighty close, and the movie rendered it beautifully.

No sign of Glorfindel wielding a flaming brand, alas, but you can't have everything! At least his horse made it into the film. ;)

-The Gneech

Tags:

Fictionlet

"Well, while I was obviously flattered that you liked Retrograde Maneuvers," Greg said, "I was mostly surprised that you'd even heard of it. I mean really, you're Wenton Delaney, celebrated crime novelist and famous world-traveling macho man, whereas Retrograde Maneuvers is a silly little romantic comedy rife with urban milksops. It's sort of like when I found out that Hemingway's mother dressed him as a girl until he was six or whatever it was. It doesn't jive with the image."

Wenton laughed one of those table-shakers and pulled the cigar out of his mouth. "Naaah, that's nothing weird," he said, and swigged his beer. "Everybody's got facets, ya know, and writers even moreso. How do you think we come up with all those characters? Hell, I'm a thousand people besides this guy 'Wenton Delaney, celebrated crime novelist and famous world-traveling macho man' you keep talking about. Somewhere inside of me I've got a five foot tall, perky and giggling bisexual tennis girl in a miniskirt."

Greg blinked and looked over Wenton's enormous frame. "Taken up cannibalism, have you?" he asked. Wenton just guffawed again.

-The Gneech

<-- previous B&G
next B&G -->

Latest Month

November 2019
S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930

Tags

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow