My very own pussy riot …

HERE’S THE COMPLETE ARTICLE I MISTAKENLY PUBLISHED  LAST WEEKEND.

It’s been close to 40 years since I’ve lived without a cat in my life and I’m shocked at how “still” and lifeless my apartment is.

Eerily, uncomfortably so, to be honest. I’m amazed at the energy these little critters bring. For a while now I’ve said — to myself mostly — that Bartlett (my last to go, just last Wednesday, pictured here) would be it for me.

But now I’m not so sure.

In my early years I wanted a dog and while it took my dad and me quite a while to convince my mother, I did finally get my wish, although truth be told, Tosca’s heart belonged to her. He liked us well

Seriously unglued …

It’s been a shitty month. Literally. Bartlett, my cat has been sick. Woke up one morning and one of his eyes was shut. Took him to the vet. It wasn’t serious — a little ulcer on his eye — something must have irritated it. 10 days of antibiotic ointment cleared it up.

However a complete examination revealed he has some kidney disease. The vet said it wasn’t that bad, changed him to a kidney diet and

How the 2016 feuding felines peace accord is coming along …

Well it’s been a week since I last checked in with you. At that time things were pretty dire between my two boys, Sundance and Bartlett. Okay, maybe “dire” is a tad over dramatic. How about “heated?” Or “tenuous?” Nope, that doesn’t really describe the situation.

I know. “Tense.” Yes, that’s it. Things were “tense.” Sundance was definitely “tense.” Bartlett, not so much. He actually seemed oblivious. Except he couldn’t have been, because Sundance was afraid of something, of someone; and it sure wasn’t me.

Once I realized an intervention was necessary I sat them both down. Told them that they didn’t have to fight over me — that I was theirs, and that there is plenty of me to go around. Then I set about making Sundance feel

Trouble in paradise …

Yeah, I know, they look angelic, like butter would melt in their mouths. Much of the time that’s true, but not always. Not lately. It seems that Sundance (ginger tabby) and Bartlett (grey/white) are at war; and I’m pretty sure it’s over me.

Bear with me while I go back to the beginning.

I had Sundance first. Well, I had him before Bartlett joined our little family, but I adopted Zazu (who has since passed on) about three months before I got a call from a cat rescue to tell me about Sundance. Which makes Sundance the “middle child.”

My concerns about Zazu and Sundance taking to each other were unfounded. Within a few hours she was grooming him, showing him

A word to the not-so-wise …

I’ve got two cats. Sundance, a ginger tabby, and Bartlett, pictured here on the right. They’re quite different.

Sundance is interested in food, me and getting into trouble. When I’m on my computer for too long he sits on the keyboard. When I’m trying to get dressed to go out he swats at me incessantly. If I ignore all his efforts to get my attention he misbehaves. Television bores him to tears and if I put it on, he either barrels out of the room or goes to sleep.

Bartlett can’t get enough of me either and loves cuddling more than

A little shameless self promotion …

Forgive me, I don’t often do this (self promote). But I’ve wanted to do more
editorial writing for years. And as many of you know, it’s easier said than done for all kinds of reasons.

What I’ve discovered is, there’s a separation between church and state — in other words, the editors of most magazines and newspapers don’t care how long you’ve been writing advertising copy, it doesn’t make you a

Why can’t we be more like animals?

Animals are so uncomplicated. They don’t ask for much. They need fresh food and water every day. They have to be walked. Their litter boxes have to be clean (or God help you.) And it goes without saying they need their annual physicals and shots.

But that’s just about it when it comes to maintenance.

All they really ask is that you love them. And they love you right back. Their love is simple

So much nicer than an alarm clock …

I enjoy my sleep, always have.  And truthfully, I’m one of those people who really prefers a gentle wake up call in the morning.  Alas, I’m a heavy sleeper, so I do set an alarm — the louder and more shrill the better.

Not for my psyche, or my nerves, but to ensure I hear it and, more importantly, can’t ignore it.  And I probably have some masochistic tendencies.  However …

As the mother of two four-legged babies, I am usually up before the alarm goes off, because at least one of my fabulous felines gets to me first.

And let me assure you, there is nothing as sweet as being awakened by a cold, wet nose pressed against your own

I’m in the dog house …

Bartlett, one of my cats, is pissed off with me.  Majorly so; and he’s giving me the cold shoulder.  I catch him giving me dirty looks sometimes, too.  Trust me, he’s very good at letting me know where I stand.  Which at this moment in time is very low on his top-ten list of favourites.

I didn’t do anything per se, I swear.

Thing is, when I worked full time he was used to not having me around all the time.  But in the six or so years I’ve been freelancing he’s become accustomed to me being home a lot more.

If I was going to be really honest with you, which apparently I am, I’d admit there are some days I don’t go out at all.  There are some days I’m so busy writing I don’t ever get out of my

What is it about some people?

Have you ever wondered why it is you like some people and can’t stand others?  And vice versa, I’m sure.  I’m not talking about people you know pretty well and develop an aversion to at some point, for some reason.  The answer to that is obvious.  I’m talking about people you barely know, or even those you’ve never met– and still, they rub you the wrong way.

You know, dislike on first sight.  Or even without sight.  Just plain dislike.

Do they send off some sort of scent that’s off-putting?  Or pheromones?  Really bad vibes?  Do they have an aura about them?

Logically it makes no sense.  How can you not like someone you don’t know?  And yet
it happens, at least to me.

Take Margaret Wente, for example.  She’s an OpEd columnist for the Toronto Globe