The pretty kitty finally gets a name #MondayMadness

November 3, 2025JT Twissel 20 Comments

Way back in 2013 this cat started showing up on our deck. I guess he/she figured my husband fed the birds and squirrels and so why not feed him/her as well? But … cats and birds generally don’t get along and so hubby shooed him/her off the deck and out of our yard. We couldn’t imagine such a beautiful cat was homeless. And then the weather turned cold and we discovered the cat had been taking refuge under a pile of plant covers left on the bottom deck. Long story short, we ended up dragging the beast, by this time, its long fur matted in filthy dreadlocks, off the deck. For two weeks the cat hid out downstairs but thankfully knew how to use a litter box! Another long story short, the cat turned out to be a neutered male and unable to find his owners, we more or less adopted him.

Can’t you find a better name than Pretty Kitty?

For years we’ve tried to find a more appropriate name than Pretty Kitty but none has stuck. Then, last night … or rather early this morning … the name came to me in a dreamlike fugue. Percival. A noble but whimsical name, I think.

Percival Von Kitty from his royal perch.

Anyway, that’s how my week is starting out.

I’m hoping the cold weather will hold off long enough for these, my only tomatoes after months and months, to finally ripen.

But with a storm and a drop in temperature on Wednesday, I kinda doubt it.

We shall see. Only Percival the Perceptive knows and he’s not telling.

This daylight savings crap has got to go!

Let’s hope that, with Percival finally getting his name, things will start to improve in this stark raving mad country!

If there are passwords in heaven, I’m checking out that other place

August 12, 2025JT Twissel 17 Comments

I can see the need for usernames and passwords at financial institutions, but the other day I called Pampered Pet Ranch where we occasionally board our cat and was told to:

Visit their website and agree to all their cookies, disclaimers, policies, guidelines, etc.
Create an account with username, password, backup email, backup phone #, etc.
Validate our human existence by solving a set of visual brainteasers designed for those people with an IQ of 200 or above. You had three chances before being declared a bot.
Provide vet’s name, address, email and last health report.
Complete their extensive questionnaire:
- How many minutes a day does your pet require additional pampering (at $9.99 a minute)
- Does your pet have a pet name?
- How does your pet display anxiety?
Complete request for boarding
- Day and time of drop off
- Day and time of pick up
- Food requirements
Check back hourly for confirmation

In other words, they were no longer taking reservations over the phone.

*Do you suffer from anxiety Kitty?* **Are you kidding? I’m a cat!**

This left me wondering, how many people actually called Pampered Pet Ranch and made reservations for other people’s pets? If the answer is thousands, hundreds, or even a dozen, this country is even sicker than I thought. More than likely they found that gathering necessary information this way was more reliable that depending on their young staff. Or the fickleness of their clientele. At least they know where to put the blame for flub ups!

They also required Kitty’s mug shot, I guess in case an imposter tried to take his place.

Pampered Pet Ranch is not the only website requiring one of the hundreds of username/ password combos that clutter my little black book. I have usernames and passwords for:

Hotel chains I have visited once
Saline nasal pods for a machine that hasn’t worked for years
The toilet paper people who became so busy during the pandemic that they were always out
Our medical provider, Kaiser Permanente which provides preventative care for seniors provided those seniors can figure out their complicated and constantly “updated” online system.

*Sign seen while having a pelvic exam.* **Really? Having a lovely time with cold, metal instruments shoved up my vagina. @kaiser**

I think it’s unfair to expect aging baby boomers to keep up with technology. After all, we were the first people to own personal computers back when knowledge of a computer language was necessary to run the damn things. You couldn’t just bark orders at a Compaq or wave a magic finger over the screen.

I can still remember the secretaries in our office who vowed to never ever switch from their beloved typewriters to a computer! Never ever and indeed, it did take a while for many of them to change their minds.

The temp — The horrible machine that was going to make typewriters extinct!

I can also remember the day the internet captured my mother-in-law’s favorite granddaughter. It was my fault really. Bernita was staying with us when she heard from her other son that “darling Lena” had won a statewide award and that the ceremony had been broadcast over something called “the internet.” I found the site and showed her the ceremony on my computer screen. There was Lena, climbing the stairs to the stage and accepting her award. Huge smiles on her face. Applause all around.

Bernita turned to me in horror. “Oh my Lord. They’ve captured Lena! How horrible!” She began to quiver. “My darling Lena!”

“No Bernita, She won the grand prize in the state science fair and they put the ceremony on the web. That’s what I’m showing you. She’s fine.”

“She’s caught in the web?” By this time she was in full panic. “Turn that thing off! Make it stop stealing children!” She bolted from my tiny office and vowed never to enter that unholy chamber again.

It’s a good thing she never had to do a video conference with her doctor!

Yup … if there are passwords in heaven, I’m checking out that other place!

BTW – because of some oddness between Word and WordPress, I had to use the old Ctrl V (copy) Ctrl P (paste) commands to create this post. Commands I learned over thirty years ago. So much for progress. We’re going backwards in more ways that we can count.

WordPress just ate the content of my post

September 18, 2022September 18, 2022JT Twissel 19 Comments

I just published a post entitled “Rain, the cat and the trestle” and when I went to check on it, all the images were gone as was the text. The original post wasn’t in “Trashed” bin so I don’t know what happened. Has this ever happened to any of you?

The images I uploaded were all there in the Media Library so I don’t know what to think. Any suggestions?

Murder by Cat

March 22, 2016JT Twissel 16 Comments

After spending two hours at a tax accountant’s with a 90 year old who can barely remember her first husband’s name I’ve decide my next Fi Butters’ mystery will be Murder by Cat, the strange tale of Ubiquitous K of Babylon Heights.

Synopsis: A series of murders takes place at Babylon Heights, a retirement village where all the residents and in particular the owners have skeletons in their Depends. Reluctantly former psychiatrist Fi Butters is called on scene when one of the residents, her elderly aunt, convinces the others that Ubiquitous K (a Norwegian Forest cat whose owner has recently died) is the cold-blooded murderer.

Murder by Cat, the strange tale of Ubiquitous K of Babylon Heights

“One thing I’m certain of, she was not killed by a cat!”

“She wasn’t killed by a hat?”

“No dear, a cat.”

Martha was one of those little old ladies who questioned everything she heard and thus it was impossible to get through a conversation without saying the same thing at least three times and she wasn’t alone.

“Well isn’t that the darndest thing. Killed by a hat.” Mr. Fassenbinder chimed it. He’d long since lost his hair and hearing but refused to wear an aide because “there wasn’t much good to hear in the world, so why wear the damned thing?” I had to agree.

The residents of Babylon Heights had assembled in the very same community room where holiday parties and bingo games were held. I figured there had to be at least forty folks which was fine; the room could easily hold a couple hundred. Heavy furniture provided comfy seating which meant a few in my audience would probably doze off, but regardless, after my auntie introduced me I launched into an attempt to quell the panic that rattled their aging bones.

“Nobody was killed by a hat or a cat or even a bat!” I chuckled which clued them in that something funny had been said. A few followed suit with a chuckle that sounded painfully forced. Okay, Butters, I thought, the last comedian to crack these folks up was probably Bob Hope. “First of all, despite my aunt’s kind introduction, I am not a detective. I am, or was, a psychiatrist.”

“Was a psychiatrist?”

“Yes Martha. Was. But I won’t bore you with the gory details of my many career changes…”

“Gory details?”

“Well not really gory. . . “

Okay, that’s as far as I’ve gotten on this bit of silliness. If I’m going to continue I need some appropriate character names. Do you have any suggestions? (other than – stop now Jan before you embarrass yourself any further!)

Our Lone Dove

July 25, 2015December 14, 2018JT Twissel 22 Comments

I found this guy lying on the concrete patio near where I’d chased away a grey cat who likes to tease our indoor cat. At first I thought he was a goner but as I drew closer he started flopping about in a vain attempt to fly. His wing looked crooked and he couldn’t stand. His pinprick eyes pleaded with me – don’t leave me here, easy pickings for whatever predator might happen by. So I ran inside, found a shoe box, laid a piece of soft linen in the bottom and rousted Joel from his sudoku. He’s the animal person. Oh, I love animals but I don’t know how to handle them like he does. He gulped, donned his garden gloves and then followed me out to where the dove still awaited a painful ending. Luckily I knew – from years of field trip carpooling – about the wild animal hospital near us and so, after a quick phone call, off we went.

Pamphlet urging people to keep cats inside

At the hospital a soft-hearted volunteer took our dear friend into the examination room and asked us to sign in. The walls of the lobby were filled with stories about other wild animals who’d been brought in and rehabilitated, giving us hope, although it was hard to imagine a bird with a cast on his wing. When she returned I asked why we’d been asked to sign in and she explained that “our” bird had been given the number next to our name so if we called in they could tell us how he was doing. She also said his hopes were slim. We haven’t called in.

Did you know that mourning doves are monogamous? Not only that but legend has it that once a mourning dove’s mate dies, he will not take another. Kind of hard to believe, isn’t it? Well, here’s my story:

Many, many years ago – so many that I’ve lost track – we decided to built a teahouse on a lower meadow where only weeds grew. It took a long, long time because we were working full time, raising children, and trying to see some of the world while we were still relatively young and so it was a weekend only project further winnowed by family visits and the like.

It was also a family affair; my father architected the elaborate roof, my teenage son buffed up during the summer months by hauling blocks and concrete down the hill for the foundation, and hubby, of course, acted as financier and project coordinator. They would work together all day often squabbling over the how-tos and then after supper fall asleep on the old blue couch (which even then had seen better days) while watching British mysteries and drinking red wine.

Two Doves, by Connemoira

One evening Joel decided to finish off a few things down at the teahouse. He didn’t notice that Mr. and Mrs. Dove, a lovely couple who’d visited us routinely in the past, had followed him down, probably because they knew he generally carried bird seed and peanuts in his pocket.

With a screech that set his hair on end a hawk, talons drawn, buzzed past him and grabbed Mrs. Dove by her long slender neck. She didn’t stand a chance.

After that Mr. Dove held vigil in the oak near our deck. Always a welcome visitor, a he was a mannerly gent among the raucous jays, chickadees and wood peckers. We will miss him.

Write about cats instead!

January 6, 2014October 30, 2014JT Twissel 5 Comments

The following is a repost in honor of Cat Day!

We call this little sweetie Pretty Kitty. She shows up at our back door every morning looking hungry. At first we shooed her away

“What do I look like? Cat food?”

because of this little guy and his friends who aren’t particularly fond of kitties whether they’re pretty or not.

But she would retreat only as far as the hill above us and look down, sometimes sneaking onto the deck when she thought we weren’t watching to gain a prime perch from which to hunt. As far as we know, she’s not a very good birder. We haven’t found piles of feathers or half-eaten carcasses. We did however catch a rat. Darn, I guess she’s not a ratter either.

Before Christmas hubby began to worry that she might be an abandoned cat so he decided to put out a bowl of Friskies leftover from our cat sitting days to see what she did.

“Delete, delete, delete – will you ever learn how to use a semi-colon?!”

(here’s a pic of Rocket Kitty, our grandcat.

Like many cats associated with writers. Rocket Kitty provides free editing services whenever he visits.)

Hubby set Pretty Kitty’s bowl far away from the railing where his other pets (the birds, quail and squirrels) expect their treats but near enough so that we could watch what she did. Sure enough, she gobbled everything we set out. Still her coat appears well-groomed, her eyes bright. Maybe she just likes Friskies better than what she’s getting at home. She still runs when we get too close but gradually she’s let us near enough to snap a few pics so I could go on line and figure out what kind of cat she is. The closest breed seems to be this one: http://animal.discovery.com/tv-shows/cats-101/videos/ragdoll.htm

A ragdoll cat is so named because of their propensity to go limp when picked up. They’re also called “puppy cats” because they like to follow their owners around, particularly when young. They’ve got big bones, silky fur and bright blue eyes. They are also one of the largest cat breeds. You can see in this pic just how big Pretty Kitty is…

Anyway, six days into the New Year and I’ve already broken my resolution to write only about dogs. Worse yet, I am falling in love with a kitty who probably has a home somewhere and alas my poor heart will be broken once again. My, my. 2014 does not portent well for the Twissel so far. Last year at this time, I’d just a signed a contract with Booktrope and expected the sky to open. It did not. Now another book’s going through the process. Will it set the world on fire? Probably not. Will Pretty Kitty eventually go limp in my arms? Who knows. Each new year comes with a question mark and no promises. Just hopes and dreams and schemes which may go broke. That’s why God gave us friends. Okay, God didn’t give us friends. If you want friends, you’ve gotta work for them which is a better New Year’s resolution than not writing about dogs, don’t you think?

Neither a mountain lion nor a teenage driver but a bird.

Now that all the holiday folderol is over, we should post a flyer about Pretty Kitty around the neighborhood. Hubby will undoubtedly give a thorough tongue lashing to her owners, if indeed they come forward. Ours is a dangerous neighborhood for kitties – mountain lions, raccoons and big dogs. Not to mention, teen drivers.

Sigh. I’ll let you know how it goes and again, sorry about the dog thing. Resolutions are meant to be broken.

Kitty luxuriating in his kitty condo.

Update Oct. 29: Well, as those of you who’ve followed the blog all year know, Pretty Kitty turned out to be a boy and because of his green eyes, he cannot be a ragdoll. However he doesn’t seem to care. He’s now in possession of two humans who buy him all sort of treats and cater to his every need.

“What greater gift than the love of a cat.” Charles Dickens