Like Brigadoon from the mists, the wreck of the King Phillip, a 19th century sailing vessel, appears out of the sands of Ocean Beach now and again, lending even more romance to our foggy beach… These pictures were taken two weekends ago with my iPhone. I did a lot of wave dodging, running in when the waves receded to snap the photos and then back up to avoid getting totally soaked.
Author Archives: Dana
Day Four – Blame my mom
Yup, my mumsy sent this to me. This might lead you to believe that a warped sense of humor runs through our family… and you’d be correct in this assumption. My mom’s siblings and some of their offspring shared a certain sarcastic, offbeat idea of what constitutes humor, all with individual touches.
And then there are the women on my dad’s side of the family, many of whom I met for the first time about fifteen years ago on a trip to Norway. I felt right at home among a bevy of tall, sarcastic cousins. Who would have thunk sarcasm was an actual genetic trait?
Day Three – Kittehs!!!
Wee baby kittehs! These are currently residing in a friend’s bathroom along with their mother, a beautiful gray cat with a kinked tail. At first we thought her tail had been injured, but then Mo noticed that several of the nine kittens (yup, you read that right…NINE kittens in this litter) have the same kink in their wee little tails. Momcat has been keeping the kittens in a little ‘hut’ made of foam and fleece; Mo went into the bathroom this morning and found that Momcat had moved her babies out into the bathroom proper. Wall to wall kittens!
I especially like the little bruiser with his eyes open, gnawing on his sibling’s paw… Nom nom nom!!!
Day 2 – Weekend Seaglass Gems
Fairy Lights and Feline
I haven’t been posting for quite a while and it’s time to get back to it, along with the daily writing since I have five impending book deadlines in the next two and a half years. So to this end, I’m going to start with an exercise that my friend Dani at Blog Book Tours does in her classes on how to create a viable blog: write a post a day, no matter what the content. It could be a photo, an observation, a review… the point is just to post some content on your blog every day for a month. To start I’m posting a photo I took with my iPhone of my new fairy lights strung on the kitchen window and coiled inside a mosaic crackle glass jar on the table. Bug Bear decided it was a great place for a photo op, so…. here you go!
Two Book Related Announcements!
First of all, I’m happy to announce that today’s Ravenous Romance release is I KISSED A GIRL, Volume II. My alter ego Inara LaVey’s short story Queen of Swords is included, along with a story by Inara’s honey Kilt Kilpatrick. In the words of our wonderful editor Regina Perry:
I Kissed a Girl, Volume II: A Virgin Lesbian Anthology
Our readers asked for it, and now I’m pleased to present Volume II of first-time lesbian encounters inspired by Katy Perry’s hit song. Seven returning authors continue to arouse, plus six new authors will not disappoint.
This diverse collection travels the globe and the ages. No two settings or circumstances are alike, proving that women from every walk of life and culture are curious and eager to explore their full sexuality. You will be titillated, tantalized and enamored as you journey to Australia, where two long-time friends discover more than friendship; fly to Hawaii, for a language lesson interrupted; stop in Costa Rica, for a massage in a tree house; travel north to Alaska, where strangers connect; across Canada, to discover how co-workers release tension; over the Atlantic to the United Kingdom, where a concert is more than guitars strumming; close your eyes to wander into a mythical kingdom, where women take charge; voyage to historical Italy, to discover things are not always what they seem; then jet back to the heat of Miami, and be entranced by a goddess; before exploring the rest of the USA to discover: two mothers considering new interests as toddlers sleep; a boyfriend’s ex, who has more to offer than contention; what goes on behind the scenes might be more engrossing than the theatre; and a ghost, full of surprises in a mountain inn.
Join me as we trot the globe and enjoy out-of-this-world experiences. Please come.
My second announcement is the release of the book trailer for What Women Really Want in Bed,co-written by myself and Cynthia Gentry.
Check it out here! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ivq-vAW4YNQ
Thank you, Bay Area Pictures, for a stellar job!
Worth more than a thousand words….
Must. Share.
Forwarded to me by one of my fellow animal rescue friends…
SF Bay Area Peeps! URGENT Call for Adoption!
Must Rehome ASAP (Everywhere)
Date: 2011-02-10, 7:57PM PST
Reply to: comm-yjbak-2208342570@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Please help! After two long years of being on a waiting list for a dog, we have
been notified by breed rescue that, at long last, our number has come up and …
WE ARE HAVING A PUPPY!
We must get rid of our children IMMEDIATELY because we just know how time
consuming our new little puppy is going to be and it just wouldn’t be fair to
the children. Since our little puppy will be arriving on Monday we MUST place
the children up for adoption this weekend!
They are described as:
One male — his name is Tommy, Caucasian (English/Irish mix), light blonde hair,
blue eyes. Four years old. Excellent disposition. He doesn’t bite. Temperament
tested. Does have problems with peeing directly in the toilet. Has had chicken
Pox and is current on all shots. Tonsils have already been removed. Tommy eats
everything, is very clean, house trained and gets along well with others. Does
not run with scissors and with a little training he should be able to read soon.
One female — her name is Lexie, Caucasian (English/Irish mix), strawberry
blonde hair, green eyes quite freckled. Two years old. Can be surly at times.
Non-biter, thumb sucker. Has been temperament tested but needs a little attitude
adjusting occasionally. She is current on all shots, tonsils out, and is very
healthy and can be affectionate. Gets along well with other little girls and
little boys but does not like to share her toys and therefore would do best in a
one child household. She is a very quick learner and is currently working on her
house training. Shouldn’t take long at all.
We really do LOVE our children so much and want to do what’s right for them.
That is why we contacted a rescue group. But we simply can no longer keep them.
Also, we are afraid that they may hurt our new puppy.
I hope you understand that ours is a UNIQUE situation and we have a real
emergency here! They MUST be placed into your rescue by Sunday night at the
latest or we will be forced to drop them off at the orphanage or along some
dark, country road. Our priority now has to be our new puppy.
$10 rehoming fee but price is very negotiable.
PS – If you laughed or understood the seriousness of this posting, please repost
it in other areas of the country as well as continue to repost it. It doesn’t
matter how quickly it was flagged the point is that SOMEONE SOMEWHERE will have read it and thought about it for minute
Hey There Little Beezlebuddy
Beezle came to us on Halloween 1994. Quite literally as soon as the jack-o-lantern (which Brian had carved in the likeness of a cat) was lit. I was inside, fussing with decorations and candy and heard a loud “D’oh!” from the front porch, where Brian had just set the Jack-o-lantern. I stuck my head out the door and asked what was wrong. Brian just pointed dramatically down the stairs.
First just the tips of little black ears appeared. Then huge golden eyes followed by nose, whiskers, and chin appeared over the first step. Finally, a fuzzy little body with a spiky black tail. “Hey there, little Beezlebuddy!” (We’d been watching the Simpson’s.). Not even a second’s thought as to what his name would be. I took one look at him and started cooing. He looked at me and started purring. True love was born that night.
For the first year or so Beezle would nurse on my ear. He’d crawl up next to me, start pattypawing my hair and neck, and very gently chew on my earlobe like a little bat. When he was finished, he’d give this soft exhalation (he always made a little ‘foof!’ sound) and fall asleep, nose in my ear. Brian thought the whole nursing on the ear thing was a bit weird. One day, in a particular grouchy mood, he grumbled, “That’s just wrong.” Beezle stopped nursing, both of us looking at Brian as I said in my best Mrs. Peacock (X-Files fans, you’ll get the reference) “You don’t understand the love a son has for his mother.” To which Brian yelled, “Gross!” and started laughing. After that he made references to Morgan LeFay and Mordred, and Norman and Mrs. Bates.
Okay, so Beezle and I had a kind of strange, symbiotic relationship. But see, he was my first born son.
He also had a special meow he used just for me; a high-pitched kitten “meeeeeuw!” that just broke my heart every time I heard it. Brian swore up and down Beezle’s REAL meow was a raucous throaty ‘raaawr.’ I wasn’t buying it. Until one morning I wandered into the kitchen from the living room as Brian was feeding the cats. Beezle stared up at him hungrily and meowed … a throaty raaaaowrrr’ that sounded nothing like my little kitten. I started laughing and the look on Beezle’s face was priceless. I’ve never seen a cat look sheepish before. Almost immediately he ran over to me and gave his little kitten “meeeeeuw!” But he was so busted…
When Beez was almost a year old, I went to Michigan for three weeks to do a Halloween show and theatrical combat workshop with friends. I’d never been gone more than a day since he’d shown up, up until this point. When I got home from the trip, he ignored me. All the other cats ran up for love, excited Mom was home, but Beezle turned his back on me and went under a table. No amount of coaxing would get him back out. So I left him alone for a bit, hoping he’d forgive me given enough time. A half hour later I felt something by my feet, looked down and saw Beezle staring up at me with the most intense, stricken expression I’ve ever seen on a cat. If a cat had eyebrows, his would be furrowed. I picked him up and he put both paws around my neck, purring fiercely as if to say, “Don’t ever leave me for that long again!” And I never did.
When Luna, an older female cat who was also the alpha feline of the house, had to be put to sleep due to cancer, we had the vet come into the house so she’d be at home in comfort and amongst the people and cats who loved her. Beezle stayed on the bed with her while the vet administered the injection. Beezle then curled up around Luna’s body as if trying to warm her back up. I have pictures, but they’re too heartbreaking to post. I still cry when I look at them. It was unbearably poignant to see him with her. Beezle adored Luna and when she passed, he took over as alpha.
Whereas Luna was a benevolent ruler (she’d only smack the other cats around when they annoyed her), Beezle ruled with an iron paw in velvet-furred gloves. He had the feline intimi-stare down to perfection and didn’t hesitate to use it. His position as alpha remained unchallenged even after I moved with him and four other cats to San Francisco, eventually adding more felines to the population. Some of the new cats were (and are) hellraisers, but none of them ever challenged Beezle’s reign.
About six or seven months ago, Beezle started losing weight for no apparent reason. Dave and I took him to the vet’s and got the senior blood panel done. He got a clean bill of health. Which didn’t rule out the possibility of something like cancer, but at his age (sixteen) even if cancer was diagnosed, there wouldn’t be anything we could do for him without drastically reducing his quality of life. Our vet said to keep an eye on his weight, feed him as much as he wanted, and we’d go from there. So we kept feeding him anything he wanted (including people food – he was very fond of scallops) and let him get away with behavior like sitting next to/nearly on top of my plate so he had first dibs on scraps. Beezle kept losing weight, however, and another visit to the vet brought us no joy. I’ll spare you the details beyond the fact my first born son was fading away in front of my eyes and there wasn’t anything I could do about it beyond continue to love him, spoil him rotten, and search for food to tempt a now decreasing appetite.
I had ten days off over the Christmas/New Year’s holidays and made a list of “to-do’s” that I couldn’t wait to tackle. It included things like clean the garage, sort through all my clothes, sew, tae-bo every day, finish at least two short stories, etc. Instead I got sick the weekend before Christmas and spent most of the holidays on the couch recovering from a nasty ass cold/flu either reading or watching movies. Beezle spent most of the holidays sitting on my lap or sleeping next to me at night, getting more concentrated attention than he had since he was a wee kitten nursing on my earlobe.
The week I went back to work Beezle’s conditioned worsened. We could barely get him to eat anything in the mornings, although he’d still show interest in my food (particularly scallops), which insured he’d get as much of it as he wanted. Wednesday day he wouldn’t eat. Wednesday night, however, he sat on my lap and ate meat from a taco. He drank a ton of water. It was so hard to tell what to do because one of the signs of a cat who’s ready to go is when they stop eating and drinking… and Beezle never really stopped, he just slowed down. Picking him up was painful; there was nothing but skin and bones under his fur (which remained plush throughout). He had trouble jumping up on things and was shaky when he walked. That night he slept with me, barely moving at all. He mewed his baby kitten meow a few times, something I hadn’t heard since he was a youngster. I woke up early in the morning to hear him purring as he crawled up closer to me, resting his chin on my hand. We both fell back asleep… and I knew it was time to have the vet come over to the house so he could go without suffering.
Beezle wasn’t moving much Thursday morning, just lying next to the bed. He purred when I kissed him goodbye. I ran out in a hurry, not wanting to be late. I called the vet’s office when I got to work to see if they could come over that night and take care of things. I had to wait for our vet to call back when she got out of surgery, which wouldn’t be until the afternoon, but it turned out it wasn’t necessary. Dave called me around 11:00 to see if I could come home; he didn’t think Beezle would make it until the evening. He’d been having little seizures and mewing like a kitten for the last hour. Dave had never heard his baby meow and didn’t know what to make of it. Dave held the phone up to Beezle’s ear and I talked to him, told him Mom was coming home and that I loved him and to try to hold on till I got there, but no matter what, his momma loved him. I told Dave I’d be home as soon as I could and dashed out the door.
When I got home Dave was holding a still and silent Beezle in his arms. He told me that as soon as Beezle had heard my voice on the phone he’d stopped meowing, stopped having seizures and faded out. As much as it broke my heart that I didn’t make it home in time to be with him when he passed, I like to think he was waiting for his mom before letting go of his life and moving on to join Luna in whatever afterlife exists for animals. And hearing my voice allowed him to let go.
There’s a quote about someone’s idea of heaven being the place where all the pets we’ve ever loved greet us when we get there… and that works for me. Until then… I love you, Beezle. You were my first born son, my pride and joy, and the best Halloween treat anyone could ask for.
Some Thoughts on Losing Pets
Yesterday my beloved cat Beezle died. If you’re an animal lover, pet owner, whatever you want to call it, you’ll understand why I spent much of my morning in the bathroom at work crying when I lost the battle to keep it together at the front desk. You’ll also relate to my referring to my cats as my children. If you’re not, you may be wondering what all the fuss is about. You may be outraged at my equating my love for my cats to your love for your possibly multiple offspring. To which I say your value judgment is not welcome in my world.
Don’t get me wrong. I love children. I adore my nieces and nephews and have been known to go all gooey over cute babies. I’m a wonderful babysitter, aunt and godmother. I probably take more safety precautions when I’m looking after someone else’s kids than they do themselves. I have actually been told to ‘chill out’ by some of these parents, who look at my constant scanning of rooms for potential sharp corners on which the child could be injured as kind of comical. This is one of the reasons I don’t actually have any human children of my own. I’d probably drive myself — and them — insane by my ‘must wrap in cotton batting’ attitude combined with a singular lack of patience with many of the things that go hand in hand with parenthood.
On the other hand, I have what has been called a remarkable patience with felines (I’m not as good with dogs although I do also love them) and can put up with behavior and messes from my cats that would drive a normal person mad. I don’t like the messes and both myself and Dave get tired of the cleanup necessary to live in a house with multiple felines without having our friends walk in and say politely, “Wow, cats, huh?” But it’s worth it because of the love and joy our little furry darlings bring us. Which brings me to the main point of this post.
Yes, there is a difference between losing a child and losing a pet. No one expects to have a child die before them – it’s (in theory) a lifetime commitment and it’s also tied into issues of the parents’ mortality, their line carrying on, etc… We know our pets probably aren’t going to outlive us and that the time with them is finite. But it doesn’t mean the love and commitment we feel towards them is any less valuable than the love a parent has for his/her child, or the grief at their loss any less painful or real. It’s just easier to accept because we know it’s going to happen and our expectations are set. It’s not something anyone has the right to place a value judgment on in terms of importance or what we should or shouldn’t feel. Please try and remember this the next time someone you know is dealing with the death of a pet.
And keep in mind that the words “What’s the big deal? It’s just a cat (or dog)” won’t just make you stupid and insensitive, but will put you right up there in Major Asshat territory and you will deserve the black eye you might very well get from a rightfully enraged pet owner.