Sep
11
2001
In case you think me even more frivolous and shallow than I really am…I posted the entry below before I heard of the terrorist attacks today.
Rufus and I are home safe and sound with our cats, having been sent home from work in fear that San Francisco may be a target, too. Being in the Financial District and only blocks from federal buildings like the INS didn’t seem a good idea.
Like the rest of the world, we are staring at the news footage and trying to make sense of it all. Our thoughts are with the victims and their families, now mourning their tragic, senseless loss. This is beyond belief.
Sep
11
2001
Clearly, the geniuses at the CIA who came up with the idea of training cats and wiring them with transmitters to act as spies never actually owned a cat, or even knew one very well. Rule Number One of cats is: you can never tell them what to do. You may be able to persuade them not to claw the furniture or eat the house plants, but that’s about the extent of behavior modification for the cats. The cats end up training you. And, since you are the one feeding them and cleaning up the litter boxes, it’s pretty obvious who’s in charge.
I can’t understand why the powers that be at Avenal State Prison were so perturbed by prisoners feeding and caring for feral cats near the prison. If you can’t train cats to be spies, you probably can’t train them to help inmates break out of a high security prison. And they have nowhere to conceal any weapons. It’s generally thought that having a pet — or even caring for semi-wild animals like these — has a positive effect on people, making them happier and gentler. So you would think the prison authorities would be glad to see these tough guys giving a damn about something other than themselves. If they can have cable TV and work out all day so they are strong enough to possibly beat up their guards, why such a fuss about some cats? I guess even prisons have No Pets rules.