Wanda and I would tell the cashier if we are given extra change. We would, and have, returned found money. Several years ago Wanda spotted a wallet outside a bank. She took it back to her office to call the owner. Looking for a contact number she discovered over three hundred dollars. She got in touch with the son of "wallet man."
This is a great description of my wife. She had to riffle through the wallet to find some I.D. She was concerned they would think she was "snooping." So, she explained why everything was out, and said, "money was tucked everywhere." What did the appreciative guys son say? "Oh, do you want a reward?" What a jerk. Wanda could have taken the three hundred bucks tossed the wallet in a mailbox and walked away. But she did the right thing.
I could have asked for my money back and asked for a free cantaloupe today, I didn't. Prices are high enough and no store is going to give us something for nothing. I was perfectly happy getting one good melon. Now I'm trying to decide if I should put the bad one in the compost bin, or since it has three holes in it, use it for a bowling ball.
I really and truly believe in Karma. I read a great article on the meaning of the word, both in Buddhism and our daily usage. I was planning on inserting a link here but read the following:
Terms of use: You may copy, reformat, reprint, republish, and redistribute this work in any medium whatsoever, provided that: (1) you only make such copies, etc. available free of charge; (2) you clearly indicate that any derivatives of this work (including translations) are derived from this source document; and (3) you include the full text of this license in any copies or derivatives of this work. Otherwise, all rights reserved. For additional information about this license, see the FAQ.
I'm sure you can understand and excuse me if I don't include the article. I'm afraid I won't use the proper format and I don't need the aggravation, or, bad Karma.
What goes around comes around. Do you believe that? I use it every time something unfortunate happens to me, or us. One morning Wanda discovered two flat tires on her car. They were slashed, Karma? Probably not but it's a lot easier than fretting over the event. "It must be something I did as a kid coming back to me." I would like to know if there is such a thing as "good" Karma.
Look, I did lots of good things when I was a kid. How hard could it be for the Karma Guy to find something good from 1959 or 1960. I'm sorry for the teasing and bad stuff I did to Barry Mitnick in the sixth grade. I am also deeply sorry for the terrible things I did to Eddie Miller and Gary Addleson. I have begged forgiveness for making fun of Rachel Blechers mother. OK, Karma Guy, enough is enough.
How about money I collected for The Torch Drive? I could have kept some of that but I didn't. I turned in every red cent, all of it. Karma Guy, couldn't you do something the next time Wanda and I are playing the slots? It doesn't need to be any great amount, maybe a couple thousand on the next cruise? Would it kill ya? I know it's not Wanda, so it must be me. Haven't I suffered enough over the years you royal asshole
You want an example? Here you go, look at this picture and read my words. If this isn't enough to get me off the Karma hook, well, it just better be.
Popeye. Look at his left eye and left ear, that would be on your right. Popeye was the first kitty we rescued, probably it was 1987. I opened the front door early one evening and he was sitting on the door mat. He looked really awful, that eye and ear, matted fur, no tail, terrible. I looked down at him and yelled, "Hey Wanda, come look at this cat." which she did. Popeye, he wasn't called Popeye then but I don't like referring to him as The Cat. Popeye tilted his head to the left (probably because he only had the one good eye) looked at Wanda and said, "Meow." I'm pretty sure that meant I'm tired, sick, hungry and cold, can I come in?
We opened our home, our hearts and our wallets to this haggard miserable looking cat. We cleaned him up as best we could and tried to make him comfortable. He was with us a couple of days when he found his name. I remembered the way cartoon Popeye would screw up his face and make one eye sort of "pop" out so, Popeye it was.
I think it was the third evening he was with us I got the vacuum out to do the living room carpet. Then, and now as well, almost all the cats hate the vacuum cleaner. The noise is scary and they are afraid to get close as they do not want to get sucked in, I don't blame them. The vacuum cleaner didn't bother Popeye at all so I figured he must have been a house cat. I was wrong, well, he may have been a house cat but the noise didn't bother him because he was at Death's Door.
I shut the vacuum off put the wand down and picked him up. I knew something was wrong so we called the vet and took off with Popeye in tow. After a through exam it was determined Popeye was uremic. His blood was getting toxic. There was some reason his kidneys were not functioning properly. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to give him fluids and flush his system. I'm putting it simply and know you get the idea here. That first night he improved, a lot.
Popeye came home but was back the next day. Kidney stones and a narrow urethra was the diagnosis. Bottom line, Popeye couldn't pee. There was nothing wrong with his kidneys, he just couldn't pee. After discussing all of the possibilities we went ahead with a penisectomy and a urethra-widening-er-ing. The docs turned Popeye into Popette. Overnight he lost his penis had his pee tube widened and literally became a new "man" because, he was now a woman, kind of.
He spent a couple of days at the hospital before we were able to bring him home. We now had a cat with one eye, one ear, no tail and no penis. He also had a bath, a flea dip, a haircut and several teeth removed. We couldn't hear the other cats laughing at him but I think they were. These damn Alpha Males can be so cruel but Popeye didn't care. He looked strange and he had a sex change but he had a home. He had a family that loved him, he was warm and safe. He had anything and everything he would ever need.
Popeye was with us for seven years. Eventually we had to put him on a special kidney food. He didn't like dry food so we fed him canned. We would pick him up, carry him in the front bathroom and sit with him while he ate. I figured if he had to eat in front of the toilet sitting with him was the least we could do. We wanted him calm and away from the other cats. This worked out fine for a couple of months.
September 2003 Wanda and I went on our first cruise, to Alaska. We took the train to and from Seattle for the seven day trip. Gone ten days we made the decision to board Popeye. We thought the feeding schedule too much for our cat/house sitter. The vet and staff knew Popeye well, it seemed like a good decision.
Popeye had a heart attack at the vets. Maybe it was his time, maybe not. Seven years earlier he had a pretty traumatic experience, maybe he was scared? I don't know. Whatever the reason, we never second guessed ourselves. Popeye was my first rescue cat, the first of many.
Over the years Wanda and I have gone without. Things that would have been nice to have. Nothing important, but, nice. Like a comfy new recliner or a couch. A couple of years ago we decided no more. It's been twenty four years, it's been long enough. We would finally like to get the new furniture. We would like to open the back bedroom door and not worry about the cat getting on the desk. Little things, nothing we couldn't live without, just some "nice" stuff.
It's been twenty four years, it's been long enough.
Damn, I was going to call the vets today. We have a visitor out front and it looks like he has an abscess on his chin.............
No comments:
Post a Comment