Talk about your day thread

[spike]

Lookout, male, hit by multiple cars.

This is why you don’t name a pet Lookout.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[BurtReynolds]

I crazy hick shot my dog when I was a teenager. He later murdered a guy. Hopefully he's still rotting in prison.

Because of the typo, up until this point I thought this was a story about how you (as a crazy teenage hick) shot your dog, who survived the ordeal and went on to murder a guy and get arrested

I was also troubled by this story at first

It's still troubling!

[spike]

Lookout, male, hit by multiple cars.

This is why you don’t name a pet Lookout.

"Lookout, look out!"

[cat stops and stares into the middle distance]

Thanks, chud.

[E.H. Ruddock]

[Higgs]

I am glad your cat doesn't have to go on a leash trag.

And I understand Argo's concern over the risks of the great outdoors for cats, but I too feel that those cats who strongly feel the pull of the wild should be (generally) allowed the freedom to roam.

I think your cats names were all very fine cars names too, argo. Some cats certainly do live hard lives though, and sadly many then die hard deaths (sorry Jorge).

I have co-owned the following cats in my time:

Squeak - nervous black kitty my brother received when a friend moved away. Ended up with us when my brother went away for work. Died of old age.

Razorback - a fierce ranga cat my brother adopted while working in Port Hedland on outback Aus. Also ended up with us alongside Squeak and also died of old age.

Angioplasty - yet another cat via my brother. He was asked to name it by a nurse who had rescued it and as her plan was to have him take the cat she agreed to the name even though it was stupid. Ended up vanishing from our house one day never to be seen again.

Buster - moggy that I am positive decided to go live with a little old lady around the corner. He looked back at us over his shoulder as he went out his car door for the final time.

Mickey - kitten that used to spend a lot of time sucking it's nutsack. We gave it away very young as we were leaving town.

Dumb Arse - I actually can't remember this cats name but it was a prick and ended up choosing to live with the family next door and we let it.

Oscar - a misnamed female moggy that was rescued with its siblings after being born in an abandoned house cupboard. Lived to 18 years old.

Spike - the best cat ever, was like a dog in many ways. It lay around watching the guys did and install our pool and was so chill they called it CatDog. We found him under the house with a huge hole in his side after we went away for a short trip. He either got hit by a car or attacked by a dog. Really sad.

Ralph - another rescue cat and another champ. Moved with us back to Perth and lived a good 13 years. Was a duck head when it was his time to go though as he kept going out to find cars to fight and kept losing. I hate cats fighting. We had to put him down.

Tuna - the cat we just put down, also a rescue cat who came back to Perth with us. Lived to 13.

Nacho - rescue cat who got run over by a car at only 1 or 2.

Boots - our one and only cat as I type this. Cuddly and mostly stays around the house. About 5 and going strong.

I've been involved with a lot of cats it seems. Sorry for the long post, once I started typing I wanted to finish the list.

[The Argonaut]

Thank you for sharing. Your stories reminded me of another risk of letting your cat roam free: the cat may decide that it likes some other family better than it likes yours, and dump you.

[spike]

Thank you for sharing. Your stories reminded me of another risk of letting your cat roam free: the cat may decide that it likes some other family better than it likes yours, and dump you.

That hermit was def spoiling your cat.

[Jorge]

Caught a stupid cold and have completely lost my voice. I hate it! It's like the number one tool in my arsenal

[E.H. Ruddock]

Sorry Jorge. I was going to call you today to chat. Oh well.

[tree_]

Coffee tastes bad this morning. Like somebody put air freshener in it

[dad]

i hope things improve for Jorge and tree.

[tree_]

I’m actually doing pretty well besides the coffee. I think I’m quitting alcohol for good. Shit is bad and nothing good comes from it. Eight days sober today!

[dad]

heck yeah, buddy. that's great!

[E.H. Ruddock]

I got a COVID booster yesterday. Still feeling ok this morning but worried as other RMers have stated it knocked them down for a day. WHEN WILL I KNOW

[Peeps]

I think I met my future wife this morning on the T.

she was telling a story how when she was younger (?) got into a fight with this girl who was much bigger than she was and also knew how to fight. she got in some hits and and three weeks later the girl tried to file charges because she had some internal bleeding because my future wife must have kicked her at some point.

after that she ran away from home and an ex boyfriend called her and he ended up telling her family where she was. she was walking down the street when three guys got out of a car and jumped her. one hit her with a pipe or at least thats what she believes but isnt sure because her concussion was so bad.
sadly i had to exit before we could exchange digits...ahhh single life in the city.

[tree_]

what is "the T"?

[E.H. Ruddock]

what is "the T"?

testosterone levels. Have you heard of Nugenix?

[tree_]

what is "the T"?

testosterone levels. Have you heard of Nugenix?

so he met her while he was on Nugenix? What's the significance? I'm confused

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.