Why I have cats, or what I’ve learned from my feline friends

1. Owning a cat could reduce your risk of a heart attack by nearly one third. The finding was the main result of a 10 year study of more than 4,000 Americans by researchers at the University of Minnesota’s Stroke Institute in Minneapolis.
2. They purr and I can’t. I can’t even roll my Rs. I suspect that purring is one reason for the finding above.
3. They are there to talk to. Mostly I say things like “I just fed you. I am not going to go over there and touch your food so you’ll eat.” or “You didn’t mean to come inside? Was walking through the door some accident?”
4. They make good morning alarms. They don’t always get the time right, of course, but they know how to make me get out of bed.
5. One makes a good neck warmer.
6. Another makes a good lap warmer.
7. They let me know when my bladder is full.
8. They act as bathroom guards when I shower.
9. They make sure I don’t sit at the PC for too long.
10. They act as interior decorators, making sure my tables and counters and desks aren’t too cluttered.
11. They act as activity directors, suggesting pettings, brushings, trips outside, trips to the basement, etc.
12. They are the world’s best ham detectors.
13. Box and bag investigations.
14. Clean clothes warmer.
15. Doorman trainer. Mouse insists on being acknowledged with a pet or a comment before he’ll leave or enter.
16. Vomit de-sensitization.
17. Mouse keeps my earlobes clean as cat spit.
18. Reflex testers. Most mornings I have to dodge out of the way of a kitty sneeze.
19. Rubber band locators. I had to pull a rubber band out a cat I used to own. That was not pleasant for either of us. These cats just carry them to their food bowls. They never eat them so I don’t know why they think they belong in their bowls.
20. Eddy has taught me that you can actually be too clean. If your skin in raw, you’ve gone too far.
21. Even if it’s freezing cold outside, sometimes you still need to go out. That doesn’t mean you have to spend any real time out there though.
22. You can have an entire basket full of toys and still have nothing you want to play with. Nothing beats playing with a real person.
23. There’s never a time when some loving up is unappreciated.
24. When giving love it’s important to pay attention to the recipient’s body language.
25. If you want something, you need to ask for it. If you don’t get it, just ask again. And again. And again. Eventually you’ll either get it or you’ll get locked in a room. But the odds are in your favor.
26. Independence is a virtue. Some people will respect it and a few dog lovers will be disturbed by it. And who cares?
27. Sometimes you just need to act crazy. Such times will pass by quickly, but sometimes stuff gets broken.
28. If you stare at something long enough, those around you will try to figure out what has your attention. This is more fun if you startle and then stare. Adding a little grunt before twisting your head around to stare is also a good technique.
29. Stretching is wonderful.
    

    Sometimes you just need to crawl in with your toys and sit on them like a dragon on his hoard.

Features other animals have that I want

When I was small I had freckles only over my nose and cheeks. I really wanted them to circle around my eyes so I could have a mask like a raccoon. I eventually got over that.  I don’t think I have the nose or cheek bones to pull that look off.

I also wanted a prehensile tail that I could use to carry things or hang from trees. I still think that would be awesome. I thought having a fly swatter attachment would be just perfect for the summer. Also still a good idea.

As I’ve aged I’ve wanted other things. Right now I want a nictitating membrane for my eyes. “This clear eyelid can be drawn across the eyeball for protection from debris, prey, or the dryness of air, similarly to regular eyelids.” Perfect. Why didn’t we evolve these? I could have the windows rolled down in the car, stand in the smoke of a camp fire, and never worry about snow blindness nor about how dry the house gets. Plus how cool would it be to roll your eyes AND close your nictitating membrane to show disdain?

I also want to be able to swim without really having to learn. In other words I want a swim bladder. I’ve never been able to tread water and I’m sure a swim bladder would be a tremendous help. I think this organ evolved into lungs in mammals, and while I do love having lungs, I don’t understand why I can’t have both. I’m not asking for gills after all, just a bladder that I can fill with air when I want to. And with the addition of the nictitating membrane I could finally open my eyes under water!

Weird stuff I found online today

1. Facebook ad for Alzheimer’s Bathroom.
So it doesn’t let you forget to wipe?

Its “The next evolution in personal hygiene.” That’s because it has an occupied seat sensor. I just assume if the bathroom door is closed, the seat might be in use. But since this thing has a heated seat, it needs to know when to turn on and off. The bidet cleansing options are numerous, including an interesting a suggestive “intensive impulse pulsation.” It has its own remote control. I’m not giving them a free link so if you’re interesting in evolving your toilet, go ahead and look it up: COCO Bidet.

2. Facial expression techno ballet
I think I’m glad I’m not Daito Manabe’s friend.

3. Brain sand
I thought the fact that I could get plaque in the brain was bad enough. Now I have to worry about going to the beach? Actually I’ve learned that I probably already have these deposits also known corpora arenacea. They are calcified structures in the pineal gland and other areas of the brain. Older organisms (like humans) have numerous corpora arenacea, whose function, if any, is unknown. Concentrations of “brain sand” increase with age, so the pineal gland becomes increasingly visible on X-rays over time, usually by the third or fourth decade.

4. Canada also has stupid criminals
Reuters – A “delightful” Bengal tiger named Jonas, and two camels named Todd and Sean, have gone missing in eastern Canada after thieves drove off with the truck and trailer in which they were traveling.

5. There’s a pill for everything
Afraid of social rejection? Just keep the pill ready.

“Over-the-counter headache pill paracetamol, also known as acetaminophen, reduces the pain of social rejection according to a new study just published in Psychological Science.” Source: Mind Hacks

6. Goats just may be smarter (or more interesting) than some humans
A guy made a video about how to turn a cigarette into a knife. For some reason he had a goat in the video that kept trying to eat his props. Go goat.

Why dog sled racing is a better sport than golf

This morning I had to listen to stories about Tiger Woods’ return to golf and the Masters’ Tournament. It was on the morning news. Then I got out of bed, turned on my computer, went to the home page of the Anchorage Daily News and learned that Lance Mackey again won the Iditarod. It got me thinking.

Why is dog sled racing is a better sport than golf even though it receives so much less attention from the press?

First off is the strongest argument, I think. I know nothing about Lance Machey’s sex life and could I bet I can find out more details about his dog breeding than about his own. That is as it should be. A search on Google for “Tiger Woods sex” and “Lance Mackey sex” return 16,100,000 and 37,800 results respectively. The first page listed for the Mackey search is a sports news page that mentions Tiger. The second one is about his dogs. So I was right. Dog breeding is news worthy since it affects the strength of upcoming teams; human breeding attempts are not news.

Women compete directly with men. There’s no separate league for women. Alaska’s motto used to be “Where men are men and women win the Iditarod.” The sport always has several top female competitors from Libby Riddles, to Susan Butcher, Dee Dee Jonrowe, Jessie Royer, and so many others. There are even husbands and wives who compete in the same race.

Dogs are infinitely more interesting than golf clubs. I don’t think any golfer has ever had anyone ask permission to pet his or her clubs. Nor are there many fans out there taking photos of clubs. They are famous in their own right. Dogs even get their own awards. For the Iditarod they can win the Golden Harness Award, for example. Clubs don’t bark and jump around and show their own excitement for the sport. Now I will admit that no golfer has had to walk miles to track down a loose club nor has to scoop up gallons of golf club excrement every week.

Locations are more interesting. Mushers, even in local races, travel trails not often seen by others. Augusta, Georgia or the Yukon River, which is more fascinating and has a richer history? Do any golf tournaments commemorate anything historic, let alone something like the 1925 serum run to Nome?

Competitors wear better clothing. Many will argue with me over this one. But I think parkas patched with duck tape are more fun to look at than plaid pants. I prefer the Taco Bell logo plastered over Dee Dee’s butt to the Nike swish on a cap.

The action is more exciting. Watching excited dogs and exhausted mushers or watching people follow a ball around, which would you choose any day of the week?

The fans are more fascinating. Does anyone wear eccentric clothing to golf tournaments? I mean fun and eccentric clothing. Mushing fans stand around for hours waiting in the freezing cold and have been known to be served donuts cooked in bear fat (at the Beargrease). They serve as volunteers and suffer with freezing temperatures, long drives, boredom, smelly dog booties, hungry mushers, and tired vets. Golf fans might only stand in the rain, drinking espresso.

The competitors have better stories. I mean this year there was a Jamaican, Newton Marshall, racing the Iditarod. And you can’t just enter that race without finishing other races to qualify. He may have trained in Jamaica on a wheeled sled pulled by stray dogs from a local shelter, but he managed to finish the Yukon Quest. Remember when Colonel Norman Vaughn was racing in his 80s? How about mushing families with multiple generations of competitors and winners? Dick, Rick, and Lance Mackey have all been winners. Martin Buser named his son Rohn after an Iditarod checkpoint and the son is also a musher. And who can resist someone like Herbie Nayokpuk, “The Shishmaref Cannonball.”

An seven course meal cooked by a famous chef on a cook stove is a lot more tantalizing than another silver cup. And the winner hasn’t even had to finish the race yet. In fact, the winner might not be the ultimate winner of the race. Now that keeps things interesting. There are also almost always awards for sportsmanship and for dog care.

I rest my case. But I’d love to hear your opinions.

A wee little shrew poem

In Borneo there is a shrew.
(A magazine says this story’s true.)
of how he is a shrewd collector
of the pitcher plant’s sweetest nectar.

(Nothing yet unusual to see,
but what about when he’s got to pee?)

Now nature calls the large and small.
Some seek a hole and some a stall.
The shrew just pauses in his meal
to take a break and do his deal.

He makes his poo deposit
in a fauna water closet.
The greenish climbing pitcher
is with nutrients all the richer.

The Nepenthes lowii
’tis not a flower showy.
It’ll never make the table’s vase
but  for everything there is a place.

Just remember…

If you need to use its facilities
you’re asked to fertilize the stamen please.

Pitcher Plant Doubles as Toilet

Fears: Part two

I’m currently afraid that the fly the cats can’t seem to catch is going to land on my face while I sleep. Then it’s going to crawl up to the corner of my eye and take a drink. Like they do to horses.

Thanks to a friend who educated me about these things, I’m also scared of dermoid cysts and teratomas. These are tumors with hair or teeth in them. According to Wikipedia — which I may have to stop reading — teratomas have even been know to have an eyeball inside. This is seriously screwed up biology. I want to know exactly where I have hair, teeth, and eyeballs. But I can’t help but wonder if if did have a dermoid cycst (and maybe I do, how would I know?), would the hair be gray or still brown?

I fear that Wikipedia will soon be authored only by men who think it’s fun to include photos of things like dermoid cysts to their entries.

I worry that the seas will rise and while we look pretty safe here in Minnesota, people from Miami and Virginia Beach might come knocking. Or people from the West Coast.

On a related note, I fear that not only will a warmer climate make life harder for polar bears and birds in the Amazon, it will all mean soggy and pale pork chops. I love pork chops.

I could cry tears of blood. Now that’s a pretty cool thing for a vampire to do in a movie, but can you image what that would do to your makeup?

I have anxiety about my wardrobe. I could be wearing the wrong color and people are judging me for it. I’m not referring to my fashion sense, but to how your brain is wired. I guess I better start wearing red to job interviews. I wonder if red cowboy boots are enough red.

I fear that I might be average. Luckily I don’t think I ever received a “C” while in school. And my personality type (INTP) is a very small percentage of the population. I worry more about becoming a typical old lady and somehow acquiring the three chronic health conditions that most senior insured women have. Really I’d prefer to have no chronic conditions. I’ve hit middle age without any so keep your fingers crossed for me. Unless you have chronic arthritis.

I think I share this fear with many others. I fear that I married a mutant. I think it would be OK if I was the mutant. Then there would be no way I could be average. But I don’t want to be sleeping next to one. I mean the guy might have teeth growing somewhere in his abdomen.

I’m also afraid that I might be reading too many stories about science.

Personalized envelope enclosed

My mother, a generous, conservative, Christian widow gets far too much mail asking her for a bit of her social security profits. While she was in the hospital I cleaned up all the piles of mail she had on the kitchen table, coffee table, ironing board and in the cupboards, closets, and dresser drawers. The volume of mail had overwhelmed her. She tried to give to every organization that asked it of her. I haven’t found any records of her giving over $10 to any one group, but that amount seems to be enough to get you on everyone’s lists.

Some of the mail is just too remarkable not to be shared.

Nancy Pelosi is waiting for you to die

I’m not sure if she’s been calling Mom’s doctor every few days to get an estimate on the date she’ll expire or not. But she’s not just sort of wondering when it’ll happen. No. She’s waiting for it. I’ve never received this piece of mail so I guess she doesn’t care if I live or die.

Personalized envelope enclosed

Apparently adding something like this really gets the attention of old ladies. They like to know that someone cares enough to do something just for them. So they open the piece in gratitude. Or perhaps they are just curious to see how well the sender understands how much they love kittens. Will this personalized envelope have a picture of my recently deceased Fluffermuffin? Mom didn’t fall for this one. I found this envelope unopened.

These next guys tried harder.

Mommy’s in jail

The Law Enforcement Legal Defense Fund (LELDF) wants you help them to get Stephanie Mohr back home to her little boy. See the birthday card her son drew for her? Isn’t that worth some money? Not enough? Also included is a photo of little Adam. My mother thought he was cute and is saving his picture. But she wasn’t persuaded to send money. That’s a good thing because LELDF really doesn’t care that much as you might think. According a source quoted by snopes.com, the fund spent about 18 cents of every dollar collected on defending police officers such as Ms. Mohr.

Open immediately

Now someone’s getting creative. But it’s a really cheap trick to get an older citizen to open your request for money by counterfeiting a prescription drug envelope. Come on guys. At least try to play fair. This group and others have my mother convinced that medicare is going to end within weeks. Her memory is failing, but she remembers to ask me every week if I’ve read anything yet about Medicare or Social Security payments ending. She scans the newspaper for the terrible news every day. It must be inevitable. Every third piece of mail she receives says so. There must be twenty groups like this one, with similar names. The fixed income senior market is easy prey.

Indefinite or ambiguous catastrophe

Now I don’t understand why one-third of Mexicans illegally crossing the border go directly to the New Orleans area, but you see the evidence right there. I’m also confused about the quotes around “Borderline Disaster!” Are they trying to be facetious? Or maybe many undocumented immigrants have borderline personality disorders?

And then they outlawed the baby Jesus

Not only is the baby Jesus about to be outlawed at the behest of the ACLU, the Ten Commandments are targeted, too. There are no details provided on just how the legal status of a historical or mythical (depending on belief) can be altered or even how such a figure gains legal status in the first place. I gather that the adult Jesus gained legal status at some time and is not now under any threat. The Virgin Mary also seems safe for now. The Talmud and religious texts of other faiths are not under attack. It’s really just the baby and the stone tablets. For the low price of $16.65 and your signature you can protect your “Freedom of Faith.”

Mom didn’t fall for this one either. She’s a sucker for disabled veteran groups, though. I now review all her mail, so don’t get any ideas.

Alien pelvic exam

Did this title get your attention? This particular string of words got mine when I was looking at stats for how people are finding my blog. “Alien pelvic exam” was a search string used not once, but twice, to find my site. I have to wonder why someone is looking this up.

Have aliens now given up on the anal probing? Have they learned all they can from investigating our colons? Do you know that I was not able to determine from a simple Google search just how long anal probing has been going on? That seems like important information we should have on hand.

Have they moved on to the pelvic exam? Was my unknown searcher or searchers worrying about this or hoping for it? It would really help to know if the searcher was male or female. I mean I hope it wasn’t some guy hoping for a YouTube video.

But this has got me thinking. Do you think my insurance would cover an exam by an alien ’cause I’m really tired of going to my doctor and getting a postcard the following week telling me that I came up positive and need to schedule a colposcopy. I think I might have more trust in the results of an alien testing. And maybe it wouldn’t involve a drive across time or waiting in a room full of sick people for my name to be called. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t even involve the stirrups and I wouldn’t have to decide whether it’s more or less ridiculous and humiliating to wear my socks or take them off. I’m sure the entire process would be more comfortable with an alien.

Even though Google let me down on the history of probing and on any good hits for “alien pelvic exam,” I did learn that “recent studies have shown that the majority of people who have UFO an abduction experience also happen to have RH neg blood.” Since I’m pretty sure I’m not in that category, I’ll probably have to schedule my regular exam with my regular doctor. Damn.

The dangers of random Web surfing

I began my reading with a random Wikipedia entry for the King Vulture.

Now here’s a creature I don’t want giving me the evil eye.

That thing over its beak is called a caruncle. I think that might be a my new insult for colorful, but creepy, people. “That Jack Nicholson is one freakin’ caruncle.”

I suppose the sentence really should be “That Jack Nicholson is one freakin’ vulture’s caruncle.” A caruncle is really the same thing as a wattle or other “fleshy naked outgrowth” per Answers.com. And wattles are just silly, not creepy or particularly flashy (except maybe to hens.)

I’m curious about this word and do a general Google search and things get disturbing.

I’m now learning of something know as a urethral caruncle. This can’t be good. Nothing that begins with the word “urethral” is ever pleasant. No vacation inn will ever be called the Urethral Breezes or Urethral Spa and Resort. According to eMedicine: “Urethral caruncles are benign, distal urethral lesions that are most commonly found in postmenopausal females.” Nice to know they are benign, but I’m about to enter menopause and now I have just one more thing to be scared of.

I continue reading and learn that “cases of urethral melanoma, tuberculosis, intestinal ectopia, and lymphoma, masquerading as urethral caruncle have been reported.” That’s one sick Halloween party. I wouldn’t want to make the costumes for that. So the caruncle is benign, but you can’t relax because it could really be something deadly in disguise. It good by some sort of super villain with his evil sidekicks, the Lesion League.

There’s an even worse description at WrongDiagnosis: “Urethral caruncle: a small, fleshy, sometimes painful protrusion of the epithelium at the meatus of the female urethra; it may be telangiectatic, papillomatous, or composed of granulation tissue.” Latin is a disturbing language, or maybe it’s just when we create our own words from the Latin. I don’t want to know that I have “meatus” in or on or around my urethra. I feel the need to go take a bath right now.

You’re scaring me

Here’s what scares me…

Heights

I’m sure that if I get on a ledge without a sturdy and high barrier, I will just throw myself off. I went to Ouimet Canyon, in Canada, and had to literally crawl out on the decking to look down. I did this in full view of a family with children. It was either crawl out and take a look, or waste the entire drive out there. I looked like a fool, but I felt pretty damn brave. I was trusting in the carpentry ability of people I did not know and who live somewhere even colder than I do. The platforms looked new and not too weathered, so I told myself to keeping breathing and forged ahead. Breathe in; right leg and right arm. Breathe out; left leg and left arm. I crawled like a nervous bear.

When I fly in my dreams I do not soar like an eagle. I float like someone too scared to get out of the shallow end of the pool. I hover about 3 feet off the ground. No higher. I have to fly around trees and gravestones and such. I don’t go very fast either. You know if you fall in your dream, you die.

Mars

I’m never going. Nothing good happens there.  Watch any science fiction movie. If aliens come and ask me to go along with them, I’m not even going to stick around long enough to answer. HabMoo and I have a pact that neither of us will go. Because even if they say they are from Alpha Centauri, they might really be from Mars. I will go to mars.com. That’s totally different. I like Skittles and the cats like Whiskas.

Drowning

I learned to swim, barely. I have even snorkled. But I do not get out over my head. No, no, no. I’ve breathed water into my nose before. It hurts. I have no real reason to fear the water. I sort of like going out on boats. But I want to be able to see the shore. A lake is better than the ocean. A nice stream is really the best.

Contact with my eyes or my wrists

I have a friend with tattoos on her wrists. I can’t even look at them. They horrify me. You can see the blood from your very own body in those veins at your wrists. Just stay away. That’s really the only place you can see my veins, other than my eyes.

I’d rather go to the gynecologist than the eye doctor. During a pelvic exam you’re not asked to answer questions you just can’t answer. I don’t know if this image is more clear than that one. I’m sorry, but sometimes I just can’t tell. And I hate getting answers wrong. And I blink. You’re supposed to blink. It’s good for your eyes. I will never win a staring contest. I really try to keep my eye open during that part where they test your pressure or whatever it is they do. I don’t even want to think about it.

Black ice

I totally blame the news media for this one. They make it sound like some evil gremlin just hiding out where you least expect it. It looks like nothing special. But it could be the reason for a 12-car pile up. It’s like some sort of environmental land mine. It’s not even black; it’s transparent. There could be black ice in your shower for all you know. Even if your tub is pink like mine. You have to be ever vigilant.

Drawing blood

I don’t mind getting a shot. But I hate having blood drawn. I have tiny little veins and they collapse easily. I have had nurses give up on trying to get blood out of me. They’ve made me come back on another day when a more veteran blood-drawer will be in the office. So mostly I fear being stuck because they most often do it in my hand, dangerously close to my wrists, and because it produces so much stress in the nurse. I hate making people feel bad. But three tries is all I ever give them.

Coming back as a chicken in the same neighborhood as vampire bats

Just go look at the photos here. You’ll understand after looking at the photos. Although I might have to rethink this one. Perhaps a vampire bat could be trained to draw blood for medical tests. I mean the chickens don’t seem to be bothered.

Feb. 24 update.
Thanks to the people at Mind Hacks I’m now also scared of tripping and impaling myself on the keys left in the door. And thanks to unfabulouz I’m also scared of falling the shower (perhaps due to black ice) and landing eye first on the plumbing.