My totem, medicine and shield
the mantis knows how I feel…
Here are some beers that this cat will drink and review for you. At this holy holy time of the year…
Cats are a part of my life. They always have been and always will be. This is a short story about Buzz the grey feral cat. He is surrounded with a cloud of mystery and synchronicity. I do not know what became of him. I trust that my ex-husband took good care of him after I left. Buz was last visited at my ex-husband’s house about 22 years ago. As noted in the image above. At this time Buz did not accept me anymore and so I let him stay. Cats are transitory little beings. Domesticated cats are 10 % wild and 80 % domesticated. Buzz was 80 % wild and 10 % domesticated. He grew up to be a hide & seek cat. He was not social with humans. In the mid-1980s, he was my cat and came to me only. I am 70 % wild and only 30 % domesticated. Buss and I had a lot in common. So the story goes…
Once upon a time there was a very intelligent cat name Sir Huckle Berry Finish Raoolish Maximus. We called him Huckleberry or Huck for short. He was a gift from our photographer friend named O who hung out with the punk band M.I.A. Huck was a grey American short hair. We loved him.
One night we had a party at the house. I left to go get some more party supplies. Huck got out and followed me. On the way back I saw him lying in the street near my home. It was a hit and run. We took him to our veterinarian. They did all they could do to save his life. He passed away. This was a very sad time for me.
I watched a series on Nick at Nite Nickelodeon called Route 66. The original TV series was aired in the 1960s. The main characters Tod and Buzz traveled the land in their Corvette sports car. One day at the local thrift store after the death of Huck I found a vinyl LP called George Maharis Sings. On his album George sings Moon River. The song Moon River is the song that inspired me to name this cat Huckleberry. I did not know that George Macharis sang this song but he did play the character Buz on the series Route 66. I felt captivated by Huck when I found the LP. I listened to the song over and over and cried. I missed my Huckleberry! I did not know it then but two cats and a song were about to make my life come together in a very interesting way.
“Two drifters, off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after that same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend
My huckleberry friend, Moon River, and me.”
The same day I found this LP I later took a walk and noticed across the street some kittens and their mama sunning their bodies. I thought this was cute. Then I noticed that it was right across the street from where Huckleberry was hit. With my eagle eyes I focused in on a little grey cat. This kitten looked just like Huck. I was amazed. All this coincidence hit me hard it had to mean something.
What could all this mean? The Record with Buz signing Moon River, the place where Huck died, and the little grey cat across the street, all came together through the process of synchronicity. I then made a plan. The next two weeks I studied the mama cat and her kittens. I saw a pattern. They lived under an older house on the street. They only came out at certain times for a sun bath, sleep and play. The kittens always stayed very close to their mama.
I then made my move while the feral cats were sleeping out in the sun. I walked down the street, crossed and slowly approached the cats. I quickly grabbed the little grey kitten and made a run for it. That mama was on my tail for three blocks. She yelled like a wild animal. She clawed and bit my feet and ankles. Then she gave up. I do not blame her but her wild little grey kitten was mine now!!
It took some time but the grey kitten learned to love his new home. We took good care of him. The other cats became his family. I named him Buz or sometimes Buzweld when he was bad, which was not very often.
Trampling down the prairie rose leaving hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands
I heard from passing renegades Geronimo was dead
He’d been laying down his weapons when they filled him full of lead
Indian Sunset, Mad Man Across The Water by Elton John
Leaning against the kitchen sink and munching and grinding gristle with our teeth was a treat after a long ride on the horses. My mom left stew bones on the kitchen counter cooling off. Refreshing our spirits by reaching in the freezer to pull out a cold mug of Coors Beer. Ruff was about 14 at the time. She was about 4 foot 5 inches and had a small but sturdy frame. Mousey blond long hair fell widely around her. Her blue-green eyes and a large scare on her face fit her. As a toddler the family German Shepard, who was half wolf, attacked her but that was not a problem for Ruff. She rode her grey roan Appaloosa like he was made just for her. Ruff would cuss you out if ya messed with her. She rode bareback and also had a western saddle, with a good ‘old rope circled around her horn in the front. She practiced barrel racing in a large field below her home. Raubie was slow moving horse but Ruff was good at getting him going-on a real smooth soft gallop around the barrels. The barrels were built up rocks and boxes.
On Saturdays we took long rides. Stopping in at a local store near Topanga Canyon, we bought Ginger Ale. Two large bottles. Some for us and some for the horses. They loved it. They also loved beer. My dad often gave Sony his bottle to drink down. We laughed. Sony would drink it down and make it look so good. My mustang stood about 14 hands high and was a good size for me. Sony wildly ran up hills. Hanging on tight you could not stop his free run. I had a bareback pad and an English saddle, which caused a lot of quarreling between Ruff and I on what was the better ride She rode a western saddle.I was not a fancy English rider that rode around a little ring for tournaments. There was nothing like riding an English saddle on a jump. Ruff and I could do it with the best of them.
I made jumps for the horses out of bamboo shoots that grew near my parents house. A large field below made a great riding ring for jumping. Sony was an excellent jumper. It was a great feeling like riding on a swing, that butterfly feeling that you feel in your belly. Sony, with a powerful jerk, could fling me off him. He even stopped abruptly in front of the jump and begin to eat the bamboo. We trashed jumping after some time. Instead we would sneak into rings in the Santa Monica Mountains. We raced through a few great open farms. We were often chased away, but always went back later.
Hudley Flipside @COPYWRITE The Adventures of Sony and Raubie