Cats ‘n Dogs ‘n Things

My cat had to be put sleep last week. Over the phone from New York the vet told me what she had, but i can’t remember now. Only that i was very composed until she specifically gave me a picture of in what state Smokey was in, and then i was not as composed.

“The humane thing would be to euthanize her”

“Yes, of course”

This is bad, sad. And as with more than a few things, a bad sad that has no impact on my days here across the Atlantic. So it’s a weird muted sadness. A waiting until i get back to my cat-less apartment sadness.

Smokey was old, 15 years old. Pretty good for a cat. She had major attitude. She had an air of i-own-the-world that i could only get away with in the deepest crevices of my fantasy life. And she was really cute and furry. Really furry. She got to live in both LA and New York, preferring New York i can only imagine. It’s sad, but i knew it was coming. I’m only bummed that she had to up and die not 3 weeks before i was coming back. She couldn’t have made it month longer of course. See – attitude.

I’m playing with the idea of getting a dog. Since i’ll be working at home for at least a little while when i get back, it would be a good time to invest the attention they require at first. Not to mention keeping me company all day, not to mention keeping me from sitting in my pyjamas all day long, not to mention keeping me from developing a vampire like lifestyle of waking at 2pm and sleeping at 5am that has infected many of my “freelancer” friends. Not to mention that a little love keeps the moping away. I need to be on constant moping vigilance.

But a dog is an enormous commitment. It must needs major stability. Stability that i think it’s been quite well proven i do not posses. Part of stability is maybe staying in one time zone within any given 30 day period. At least that’s my guess. But then a dog might enforce my latest challenge to myself: Trying not to see the inside of an airport for six months following my repatriation. This is already kind of unlikely. I have a theory that airport and airplane air has some sort of wrinkle causing composition. To counteract this i propose that Botox injections are offered with the pre-meal cocktail.

“Saphire & Tonic please. And yes, just a little something under the eyes. Not too much, thanks dear.”

And at what age is it ok to start calling flight attendants, “dear”?

Meanwhile, it seems a touch appropriate that the east coast hits record highs this week. Ordinarily when i hear it’s warmer in New York than Paris, i get peeved, but 93 degrees in the concrete jungle is not jealousy inducing. For those worrying about global warming, for what it’s worth, the weather here is perfectly seasonal. A semi-crisp mid 60s to low 70s with occasional rain has been the norm for the last month or so. Wouldn’t it be unbearably fair if global warming was doled out in proportion to the amount of pollution each area contributed?

Off to Montpellier tomorrow morning for a small solo weekend in the South of France. I wanted to go somewhere warmer than Paris, and Montpellier was the cheapest and fastest train ride available. I only just learned that it is not directly on the coast, but a bus ride away, which is disappointing. But hey – who don’t like the bus? Other than that, i’m clueless. I think there’s wine there…

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