More Great Souls..........Leaving.......Or Have Left Us......
Max Schmelling, famous German heavyweight boxer, great friend and arch-rival of our own home-grown Joe Louis -- The Brown Bomber himself........died today at age.........get this........NINETY-NINE.
99.......
Imagine.....
This guy was fighting the best fights of his career with Joe Louis, captivating the world, while Hitler was running Germany; while Roosevelt was running America.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I had no idea he was even still alive. I've seen plenty of shows about him. I've read plenty of stories and books about him and his glory days. Just wow.....I kinda hope I don't live that long......I'd either get bored or lose faith.
On a completely different note......
My poor kitty-cat.......Cow........doesn't have much time left. And its really tearing me up.
See, Cow was a stray. Like almost all the cats we've ever taken care of. We moved into this house in 1984, and since then, with the exception of Snuggles, a calico who I don't expect any of you to remember, all of the cats we've had have been strays who've shown up at our doorstep. I've managed to take in exactly half of them. I think I inherited it from my dad. Lost cats just seem to gravitate to me and say "I'm lost, will you take me in?".
I was a kid when I first saw Cow coming from the soccer park across my street, seemingly making a bee-line nonchalantly to my front porch......He was lanky, long-legged, white with big black patches, and a belly paunch..........hence, Cow........He came right up to MY front porch.....Don't ask me why......ONly he knows, but we bonded instantly........I remember picking him up to get a good look at him. And I held him close to my face. He looked deeply into my eyes, our noses almost contacting. He was purring like a lawnmower......Yeah, he looked deep into my eyes and promptly BIT MY FUCKIN NOSE.......WITH THE CLAMPING JAWS OF DOOM.
Well, it was friends for life after that, let me tell you.
We took him in.
He loved it.
Got fat.
Must be 15 years since then. And he was obviously fully grown when we met him. Nuetered......Declawed (unfortunately).....so, someone had him once and made an effort.......maybe he just wasn't happy being stuck indoors. Whatever, we loved him cuz he became one of the family. At least my Dad and I have.
Now, he's got a terrible wound coming from his ear......that's where it started. Now the inner ear seems to have healed and now its spread to his head just below his ear. He's lost a lot of wieght. And any of you who remember him know he was a fat-ass when you met him. Now, he's light as a feather, and its scary. He doesn't like being petted anymore. Always scratching that wound, then running away when I try to do something about it.
Which is tearing me up the most. I identified the problem. My Dad swabs the sore with peroxide when he can get Cow to sit still. But my Mom won't do anything........NOTHING.......cuz Cow is a guy cat and pees on the furniture and what-not.......My Mom has a neighbor-friend who's a Vet and she refuses to countenance spending a dime on Cow's needs.
So, he's lingering.....going on two weeks now.......I do what I can......I brush gently the matted hair around the wound. I give him a saucer of cat-safe milk before I go to bed every night. I even bought cat-nip to zonk him out every chance I get. I know I got a cat radar-dish somwhere, so he'll stop scratching himself there, even. I can do those things.
But to see my parents just plain refuse to acknowledge the fact that poor Cow needs to see a vet.......either to get a radar dish and some rinky dink antibiotic......OR.......to put the poor thing to sleep even.......just because they're tired of spending money on a cat that makes a mess of things occasionaly........its just another miserable situation in a situation filled with miserable situations.
I'm just gonna do what I always do.......
The best I can with what I have.........
99.......
Imagine.....
This guy was fighting the best fights of his career with Joe Louis, captivating the world, while Hitler was running Germany; while Roosevelt was running America.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I had no idea he was even still alive. I've seen plenty of shows about him. I've read plenty of stories and books about him and his glory days. Just wow.....I kinda hope I don't live that long......I'd either get bored or lose faith.
On a completely different note......
My poor kitty-cat.......Cow........doesn't have much time left. And its really tearing me up.
See, Cow was a stray. Like almost all the cats we've ever taken care of. We moved into this house in 1984, and since then, with the exception of Snuggles, a calico who I don't expect any of you to remember, all of the cats we've had have been strays who've shown up at our doorstep. I've managed to take in exactly half of them. I think I inherited it from my dad. Lost cats just seem to gravitate to me and say "I'm lost, will you take me in?".
I was a kid when I first saw Cow coming from the soccer park across my street, seemingly making a bee-line nonchalantly to my front porch......He was lanky, long-legged, white with big black patches, and a belly paunch..........hence, Cow........He came right up to MY front porch.....Don't ask me why......ONly he knows, but we bonded instantly........I remember picking him up to get a good look at him. And I held him close to my face. He looked deeply into my eyes, our noses almost contacting. He was purring like a lawnmower......Yeah, he looked deep into my eyes and promptly BIT MY FUCKIN NOSE.......WITH THE CLAMPING JAWS OF DOOM.
Well, it was friends for life after that, let me tell you.
We took him in.
He loved it.
Got fat.
Must be 15 years since then. And he was obviously fully grown when we met him. Nuetered......Declawed (unfortunately).....so, someone had him once and made an effort.......maybe he just wasn't happy being stuck indoors. Whatever, we loved him cuz he became one of the family. At least my Dad and I have.
Now, he's got a terrible wound coming from his ear......that's where it started. Now the inner ear seems to have healed and now its spread to his head just below his ear. He's lost a lot of wieght. And any of you who remember him know he was a fat-ass when you met him. Now, he's light as a feather, and its scary. He doesn't like being petted anymore. Always scratching that wound, then running away when I try to do something about it.
Which is tearing me up the most. I identified the problem. My Dad swabs the sore with peroxide when he can get Cow to sit still. But my Mom won't do anything........NOTHING.......cuz Cow is a guy cat and pees on the furniture and what-not.......My Mom has a neighbor-friend who's a Vet and she refuses to countenance spending a dime on Cow's needs.
So, he's lingering.....going on two weeks now.......I do what I can......I brush gently the matted hair around the wound. I give him a saucer of cat-safe milk before I go to bed every night. I even bought cat-nip to zonk him out every chance I get. I know I got a cat radar-dish somwhere, so he'll stop scratching himself there, even. I can do those things.
But to see my parents just plain refuse to acknowledge the fact that poor Cow needs to see a vet.......either to get a radar dish and some rinky dink antibiotic......OR.......to put the poor thing to sleep even.......just because they're tired of spending money on a cat that makes a mess of things occasionaly........its just another miserable situation in a situation filled with miserable situations.
I'm just gonna do what I always do.......
The best I can with what I have.........