And while we're on the subject of cats...

An interesting thing happened last week, as our new six month old kitty began to aclimate herself to our home.

Of all her toys, her favorite is a poofy bunch of feathers on a line and stick; she loves chasing it and when she does finally catch is, she likes to carry it around the house before returning it to you for more play. On one such occation, she happened to walk by the window while holding the feather-toy. Lo and behold, a scrub jay appeared in our yard! Amazing! Enthralled, she crouched in the window, toy still dangling from her mouth, while the jay hopped about our yard. Finally he left and Tara aparently lost interest. Or so it seemed. We went back to playing, but the next time she caught the toy, she made a b-line to the window and stared intently out. She repeated this behavior several times, twitching her tail and holding herself as if at any moment, that jay would appear, called once again by her talismen of Bird Summoning. That's right! Within a matter of moments, my cat had developed a superstition!

Now, I know this sort of thing has been observed in pigeons, but it's interesting to see it yourself.

She kept up this ritual for several days. Now, though, she has given up on her talismin, either forgetting it, or realizing in her little kitty brain that the birds will come whether or not she prompts them with her lucky charm. This, then, demonstrated two things:

1) Cats can develop unfounded superstitions.

2) My cat is smarter than 83.1 % of Americans, because upon failure of her unfounded belief, she promptly gave it up.

No Evidence

And while we're on the subject of Lolcats:


moar humorous pics

Felis silvestris catus

Too braindead to say clever things now. Maybe because...

My new cat ate my brains!



Meet Tara (pronounced 'Terra'). This classy kitty enjoys carrying her feather toys around the house, riding on shoulders, and trying to nurse on fuzzy blankets. Also, cruizin' in her sandcrawler.



Actual posts will occur soon...

Point and Click

So last month we went to Bodega Bay for no reason in particular. It was beautiful and the weather was perfect. Windy, but warm. We had lunch at the Sandpiper, a nice little restaraunt looking out accross the harbor that we eat at whenever we're in the area. After that, we drove around the bay and up to Bodega Head. The wind at the top of the head was a force to be reckoned with, but as we made our way down the arguably perilous dirt path to the beach, it subsided somewhat, giving way to a more comfortable breeze. To my delight, the beach was strewn with tiny blue jellyfish. These by-the-wind sailors, Velella velella, are usually found on the open sea, but were aparently blown to shore by high winds. Littered in a line of glimmering blue, they were quite lovely, if somewhat morbid in thier dead-ness.

In other news, we finally got the tickets for our East Coast vacation and for the Blue Man Group's Off Broadway show, "Tubes." Hooray!

Plague Ridden Vermin

There's a rat on my balcony.

He's small and brown and keeps running back and forth. He used to come for the birdseed that fell from the feeders, but they're not stocked, there's no seed. He's just hanging out.

I might be more amused if it were a squirrel. Something about a bushy tail makes the whole thing more adorable. Nekkid tail, not so much.

Before anyone gets the wrong idea about my apartment complex, let me assuage your fears: my apartments are clean and lovely, near the foot of Fountaingrove hill area. It's a lovely, small complex with trees and a community vegitable garden and a creek that runs at the edge of the large yard. Most of the folks here have bird feeders and that's what the rats come for, scampering up the lush, green trees. Stupid rats.

I've got a sore throat.
Maybe it's the Plague.
Urk.