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Oh, man! That’s gotta be him! See? Ceiling Cat be praised! You’ll find him soon, I just know it.

Happy hunting Stoaty. A close interrogation, possibly including water-boarding of Charlotte might reveal the root causes of Damien’s absence. I just know when one is pissed, the other always knows why. Works with the Pupster boys anyway.

Food for thought.

One of my cats got “lost” a number of years ago, and he still hasn’t come home.

I know where he lives though. He bonded with a nearby neighbor’s kid. Cats are funny that way.

Yep. What Enas and Pupster said.

Damien will return.

He’s probably just fuckin’ with you, Weaz, (and deservedly so from his point of view) because of all the house repair, stinky varnish and paint spattered around, strangers in the house, and the removal of his old prey that was hidden in various places.

And his marks! His rubbity-rub marks that stake out his territory! They were GONE when the painting was done! No wonder he left in a huff. The reason he hasn’t come home from next door yet is the house doesn’t smell the same!

Oh I am so glad to hear that at least he wasn’t smooshed by a car!

Pablo would take off for days at a time, only to return looking skinny and dehydrated. We never knew where he went, or why he didn’t just come in at night. One time, when he was gone for about ten days, we determined that he must have been caught in someone’s garage/basement – we posted flyers asking neighbors to please check their garages etc (it was fall raking time), and a day later, he showed up. The last time he took off for days, it was right after we had moved to the apt on the pier. I found him a week later on the roof of our old house, crying and trying to get in the window, which is how would come and go when we lived there. He heard the car pull up and he screamed until I went up on the roof to get him.

Since it’s spring yard-work time, he could have gotten caught somewhere, and when he finally escaped, perhaps he was disoriented or frightened. Who knows. But now that you know he’s in the area (there aren’t a lot of silver mackerel striped cats), you have a better chance of finding him.

Good luck – I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you!!

I wasn’t gonna bore you-all with a cat story, but – well – too bad. It’s a quiet night.

The family who used to live across the street (catty-cornered) had a cat – Napoleon – who was master of all he surveyed in the neighborhood. He used to come over all the time. I got to feeding him (with their permission) and he pretty much used to stay over here all day, but sleep over there at night.

Long story short – they moved about 15 miles away a while back. Shortly after that the cat disappeared. A month went by, then 6 weeks, then almost two months. then he turned up at a pet shelter where his chip was read and the owner contacted.

he had been found 12 miles from their new residence in a straight line towards here – heading this way. Another few days and he would have gotten back here.

A few years ago, I kept a friend’s cat while he was on travel…strictly an indoor cat. At the time, I didn’t have a locking kitty door like I do now, so I piled a bunch of heavy stuff in front of it thinking that ought to secure it.

And it would have, if the only cat in the house had been the visiting puss. But my OWN cat (effin’t rat traitorous bastid that he is) knew the door was there, and even now in his dotage is a pretty powerful cat, and managed to worm a hole through the cat blockade to freedom…with our guest right on his tail. A month goes by, and I’m out on travel and my friend returns~swings by the house to give it one last try.

Calls her, and she replies…from the basement of the house next door! Don’t know what she did for water, and she needed to be on a diet but…

They are surprisingly tough little critters and some will break your heart.

But don’t give up hope yet. We are all pulling for you.

And now I’m gonna go out and bring my kitten in and LOCK HER IN THE HOUSE UNTIL SHE’S FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!!

Weas, one thing I’ve learned after moving our cat 2400 miles is just what McGoo said – that changing their surroundings severely harshes their buzz. They are little irritable French women in cheap fur coats. It is entirely possible for a cat to just plain be pissed off ’cause you reordered his surroundings, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he were cattin’ around his neighborhood.

It sounds really hopeful. Are you putting food outside at night to see if he’s prowling around at night? If you put a shirt or sweater of yours out next to it, the little turd might even take that as an offer. If he comes back, break his legs. (no I do not condone cat crippling, it was tough-love humor, people)

Good luck!

Ever since you told us about Damien, my heart has been broken. I pray day and night, more fervently than for anything else, that Damien will return safely and quickly. I don’t know why I’m so affected. But I am.

Thanks for the post on him. I’ll prayer even harder for his imminent return.

Yeah, Weaz – what LK said. Put your nightshirt or sumpin with your scent on it (to remind him of where all people-love originates from!) out there with some food.

He’ll come around. He’s just effing with you.

Ok…stoopid, but I’m a newbie, so cut me just a wee slack.

My Kat story is simple…never thought I’d like the self important Buggers. Then, I met Ms.Mittens, taught her to use the toilet…takes some patience, but I am patient.

Never had an accident in the house…then the divorce. I lost the silly Kat in the custody agreement.

I’m gone, have my children, call ’em Cubs, half the time…good and better time…the Kat?

Don’t get to visit her.

She poops and pees on the floor all the time. Seems she has better taste than I did……

Did that sound bitter? Nah….not my floor. heh

Wollf…and really truly, good luck with finding your furball.

The mice in the picture are all former pets, incidentally. From top left, that’s Miss Mouse, Sixpence, Towanda and Knut. I’m not sure who bottom left is; that one was out of focus.

Steady, drizzling rain today; not much I can do about Himself.

Major ruckus the other day…the kitten brought in a live field mouse. Something wrong with the mouse to begin with, looked hydrocephalic to me. And she caught it in the basement, good kitty!!

But the Kiddo had to nurture it back to health, in spite of the 27~210 domestic mice she has in her room … I didn’t know mice stank that much. So she let it go, just about the same place I left the snake I found in the bathroom.

Hydrocephalic? Or genetically altered genius mouse?

This is my theory: Damien has been reading the Daily Mail website and he’s come to the conclusion that he’d take his chances as a cat hobo as opposed to move to a country whose head is still just above the waves but has a cramp and some seaweed wrapped around its leg.

SWeasel, Ma’am – Another hopeful moggie story.
Stoopit meezer. Two blocks over up in a tall birch tree. I mean TALL! Actually had to get firemen to get her down. Got her meezerly self stuck for about 2 weeks…fliers in the neighborhood did the trick. Good luck

Pets are much more perceptive that we give them credit for. Pets know when you are making a chnage. She may have just decided she doesn’t want to go to England and live in wuarrantine for six months.

Best Wishes

No quarantine any more, ATNorth. At least, not the horrible, old-fashioned kind (if you do it right).

Under the current scheme, you get them chipped and give them a rabies vaccine. Twenty two days later, you draw blood and send it off to a lab in Kansas. If the vaccine took, they certify it. Then, six months after that, they’re cleared to go to the UK. That’s six months spent at home, not a kennel. Theirs was up in February.

The catch is, I have to keep up on the rabies vaccine and they’re due in August. If he doesn’t come back or has vanished again when he’s due for a booster, it all goes out the window.

“genetically altered genius mouse?”

Algernon!

Did you follow the link, Machinist? They really did alter mice for more brains (in fact, some of them couldn’t support the weight of their huge heads and died). And then all they talk about is the brains themselves. There was NOTHING about what a super-smart mutant mouse is like. Geez! I want one!

Yeah, how come they cut ’em all up instead of testing the snot out of ’em for intelligence, leadership, and the desire to dominate and rule the Simian world!?

There was NOTHING about what a super-smart mutant mouse is like.

You have seen ‘Pinky and the Brain’, yes?

No, but I’ve read ‘Flowers For Algernon’ and seen ‘Charly’.

“Did you follow the link, Machinist?”

I did, Ma’am. Interesting. The limit on the intelligence of a small animal has to do with scale. It is the surface area of the cerebellum that is critical, thus the convolutions to increase area. It should not be surprising that the human brain is at or near the optimum size for our cellular structure, as that’s how evolution works. Much smaller and you limit the absolute available surface area. Much larger and the surface to volume effect makes it hard not to lose surface area in relation to volume. No creature with a brain much bigger or smaller is likely to have more intellectual potential unless it’s based on a different chemistry or structure.

There is a Laura W report over at Aces that Ted (Chappaquiddick) Kennedy had a stroke or seizure.

I will refrain from expressing the torrent of unpleasant and gymnastically improbable comments that are oh-so-near to spewing from my disgustingly erudite piehole, and wish him well. It doesn’t cost me anything.

According to local news, the family says he was well enough to call them up and say he won’t be there for lunch. Make of that what you will.

Doesn’t that prove the catastrophic nature of the event?

Nice one.

Actually, he’s been looking downright gaunt lately, for him. I know they Hoovered out his arteries recently for fear of stroke. This was first reported as a stroke.

Machinist has a point.

I’m sure the facts will come out (and then be corrected several times) eventually.

Ya know though, I really can’t help not believing them? Call it right-wing bias, but generally speaking I simply do not trust any statement by anyone associated with Ted or his family. Sorry if that offends. Its kind of automatic. They have a history, and its rather telling.

I still wish him well. I hope he retires, but I wish him well.

Update: caught your remark, Weaz. I’d read something to the effect that sometimes (rarely) that artery-hoovering process can initiate a stroke or whatever much later. It’s the loose scraps from the procedure floating around in the blood vessels, y’know.

Steamboat McGoo took the high road. I tried to follow but my character is weak.

And, yeah, that was pretty cool, Machinist. It’s not big brains, it’s wrinkly brains. It’s the wrinkle-to-volume ratio.

I still can’t understand why playing around with super intelligent mice wasn’t priority numero uno.

I would like to know if this has potential for regrowing damaged brain and nerve tissue. This normally does not regrow. That would be a huge discovery.

Haven’t they gotten a little joy on that front with stem cells? I know something was reknitting nerves in the lab…at least a little.

As this discovery dealt with genes that is the approach that would have to be pursued, unless a virus could be used to transport the genes into existing cells.

There have been some promising developments with adult stem cells. It does not get much attention because they want to push embryonic stem cells as a justification for abortion and it hurts their case if it is shown that ALL of the progress has been made with adult stem cells.

Not completely on topic, but they are making strides in cellular work. See this:

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/05/080515171023.htm

I was gonna make it a science post at A&A, but I was … um … attacked by epileptic Yeti while doing background research. Yeah, that’s right. Now I remember.

Akismet just snatched my thoughts, Weaz, for no apparent reason. If I had a huff, I would stomp off in it. Rats.

Some days, McGoo, the filter seems to declare a No Links for Anybody day.

Sorry to be a bother. Akismet is a mixed blessing, but usually doesn’t do to badly here, SFAIK. Except with Lokki. I don’t see how Lokki ever gets a link past it.

LOKKI IS MINE!

No luck so far on Damien, by the way. I tacked up a bunch of flyers, though, so I’m holding out hope.

Also, I walked around and talked to people all over the neighborhood. I knew my immediate neighbors, but nobody beyond that. This is a very multi-ethnic sort of place.

Odd racist observation: hispanics were the friendliest and most helpful, by far. Followed by black people. Whites were all either unpleasant or clearly mental.

It’s not really a racist observation. It’s a class observation. This is a neighborhood where upwardly mobile immigrants and downwardly mobile blue collar white indigenous Americans coexist.

I have been watching for word on him. I am so sorry. I do know the pain. I hope he shows up.

Actually, I’m much less distressed now that I know there’s been a credible sighting of him. Even if I don’t ever find him, knowing that (to the best of my knowledge) he wasn’t runned over and he’s exhibiting the kind of adorable behavior toward strangers that’s likely to find him a home…that’s a hell of a lot better than where I thought he was yesterday.

Worst possible fate for this cat would be Animal Control. Put him in a box and he flips out.

I understand. I was relieved to see your post but he sounds like a cat one would really miss.

This is a neighborhood where upwardly mobile immigrants and downwardly mobile blue collar white indigenous Americans coexist.

Kinda ships passing in the night, huh? The immigrant ships towards new upwardly mobile shores, and the white trash ships … floundering.

Having ‘mental’ neighbors is always interesting. We had one here a few houses down, til he blew his brains out last March(?) I think. he wasn’t found for several (4?) weeks. Phew. It was soooo funny seeing the cops arrive, go in, and come out heaving their lunch.

I didn’t know until many months later that he’d done himself in.

I plan on being ‘eccentric’ when I move. Not quite of the character that causes mothers to forbid children from talking to me, but sufficient to discourage the mindlessly social of the adults from making my close acquaintance.

I’ve been writing down eccentric characteristics to consider for my ‘persona’. I’d be interested in suggestions.

That’s easy. 1)Grunt hello and scamper away when they approach you. 2)Spend the least time possible doing work on your yard, on the outside of your house, etc. That way they have less chance of catching you in a spot where you can’t get away. 3)When the Girl Scouts come around selling cookies, poke your head out the door, yell “Not interested!”, slip back inside and slam the door in their face. 4)If you have an unusual taste in music, play it at night, loud enough so the next door neighbor can hear you, for at least an hour. 5)If you don’t have an unusual taste in music, develop one. 6)If you can’ do 5, make sure that no one hears what music you play. 7)If caught in a situation where you can’t leave abruptly, hum loudly and tap your foot as if accompanied by an invisible orchestra, until you can safely leave. 7)If you have any interests or hobbies that most people would find wierd, publicize them via bumper stickers or similar means. 8)Never look people directly in the eye. 9)When forced into a conversation, insert meaningless trivia as often as possible, and talk in a monotone, and demonstrate obvious boredom with whatever the other person chooses to talk about.
I do all the above, and have no problem in getting people not to talk to me (when I don’t want them to). Of course, I’m an aspie, so it’s kind of natural for me. However, if you follow my advice, even a neurotypical like you can get a reputation for being wierd.

Does opera count?

Kishnevi: I assume every soul I meet on the blogosphere lives in Aspergertown. I’m guessing I’m right more often than I’m wrong.

Top this: dobro klezmer.

(I really do own that album. And it’s a great favorite.)

[URL=http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o109/machinist360/Movie%20clips/?action=view&current=countess-0000.flv][IMG]http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o109/machinist360/Movie%20clips/th_countess-0000.jpg[/IMG][/URL]

I tried, but it was eaten.

Machinist–make sure it’s an opera that isn’t well known. Baroque and bel canto opera do well. 20th century opera too, but 20th century opera and symphonic music can be very hard on the ears. Wagner and Strauss do well, but are better if you play them early in the morning, so the neighbors are woken up by it instead of being kept from going to sleep by it.

SW–most of the Moronosphere seems to vibrate at distinctly normal levels.

Is dobro klezmer anything like this?
http://teruah-jewishmusic.blogspot.com/2008/05/david-krakauers-abraham-inc-live-at.html

It doesn’t work anyway. I are lamer.

Akismet, he is hungry tonite.

Will this work?

He ate me, too.

It was a video clip on photobucket.

I suppose I could go with Meyerbeer.

Thank you for the hospitality, gentle Weasel. You have a nice place and most interesting guests here. I shall try not to overstay my welcome.

Nothing is working for me. I blame the China Olympics.

kishnevi – thanks for the plethora of suggestions! Good stuff there.

I especially liked #9 – “When forced into a conversation, insert meaningless trivia as often as possible,…”

I do that already!

Late news: Ted Kennedy didn’t have a seizure or stroke. He simply ran out of scotch and had a bad moment.

Machinist, you can always come over and play at my place.
Steamboat–what’s really fun is facing those knowitalls from Heimatsecuritatpolizei. You know, the ones who pull you out of the line for the plane because you look nervous and don’t have any companions? It never occurs to them that I’m always nervous. Just another reason that I haven’t flown in several years.

kishnevi, OMGosh look at that cute critter in your Friday nite post holding up her pup!

Weaz!

Any sign of Damien today? I had an inkling of a premonition (not that I believe for even one minute in premonitions) …

It was either an inkling, or the two Bloody Marys the milf across the street fed me earlier in lieu if lunch. Or I’m pregnant.

Not a trace, McGoo. Not unless you count the cruelly vivid dream I had in the wee hours, the one where I felt him climb into bed in his usual spot and we were so happy to see each other again. Stupid brain.

You’ve got a milf across the street? Now or never, McGoo…you’re moving soon.

I believe Damien will be back shortly. Sorry about your dream.

BTW: I had one the other day where I started smoking again. Oh! Was I disappointed in myself!

The milf (who is a stunningly juvenile flirt and serious lush) across the street has a husband I would not want to tangle with.

Not me. I’m a pessimist inside a downer wrapped in a clinical depression. I don’t think I’ll see him again (or he’ll show up three days too late to make the last train for England). On the other hand, my instincts are seldom correct.

You might be premonitional after all, McGoo. Tomorrow’s post is going to be about quitting smoking (unless Ted Kennedy croaks in the night or something). I passed my 11th anniversary on Saturday (yes, yes…I meant to blog it on the 10th and forgot).

I think every ex-smoker on the planet has had that dream. And it’s always that dream: you’re smoking, and you’re feeling like shit about it. Mine usually takes the form of…”I only smoke a couple a day…that doesn’t really count, does it?”

11th Aniv? Whoa. Congrats. I’d say you’re really most sincerely quit.

Yep – all smokers (and I understand – ex-druggies, too) have that same horrifying dream. In mine, I became aware I was smoking while in mid-drag. It was in my lungs! The realization that ALL THAT TIME abstaining was just zero’ed out with one puff, and I’d have to quit all over again, hit me so hard I woke up.

I don’t think Damien is gone for good, Weaz. he’s just pissed and disoriented from all the changes at a home he’s been in “forever” so far as cats are concerned.

Just wait.

BTW: Teddy K is still in the hospital. I didn’t know they’d give scotch IV. I guess money talks…

I smoked Camel nonfilters. I quit over twelve years ago. I still want a cigarette!

I think every ex-smoker on the planet has had that dream. And it’s always that dream: you’re smoking, and you’re feeling like shit about it. Mine usually takes the form of…”I only smoke a couple a day…that doesn’t really count, does it?”

The classic addiction dream.

Oh, yeah. When you’re an addict, you’re one for life. If you quit, you’re only “recovering” – like an alcoholic.

We’re all just one toke away from being a smoker again.

Some friends were over last night (the milf and her hubby) and we drank wine. They shared a cigarette (as they often do) and as they passed it back and forth I was (just for a few seconds) just DYING for a nicotine hit.

They say it never completely goes away.

But! You all should save this for tomorrow. I won’t be here. traveling down to S. MO again tomorrow mid-morning. Back Wed. I think.

Lot of travel scheduled for the next few months.

I actually dream that I’ve started smoking fairly frequently. Not sure what that’s about, as I think smoking is gross (no offense intended to smokers…I am sure I have habits that you think are gross) and would never start.

In contrast to alcohol, opiates & other abusable psychoactive addictives, nicotine is the most active with fully 40% of the population being subject to developing nicotine addiction.

Alcohol affects only about 15%, and opiates about 11% in comparison.

Oh, and Goo-boy:

Lot of travel scheduled for the next few months.

Just got off the phone with Lemur King, who is on travel at this very moment and has requested that I give you a hard time since he is unable to come to the screen at the moment.

😛

I’ve never really smoked- just tried it in the sixth grade – and I have those dreams of lighting up. So not sure it is so much an addiction thing?

The dreams that keep haunting me are that I am in college, sitting in class, too afraid to get up and leave because I had forgotten to put my pants on. Or I get the dream where all of my teeth loosen all at once and I am spitting them out wondering what the hell I’ll do without teeth.

I quit smoking 7 – 8 years ago and I don’t really miss it. I get the dreams too every once in a while. In the last one I was so flustered about smoking a cigarette that after I put it out I lit up another one to calm my nerves.

You’ll find Damien again Weasel. Soon I hope.

Yeah, EW, I’ll be going back and forth to S. MO several more times, and I’ll have at least two TX trips – one in a few weeks, and another in a few months or so. This is what happens when your personal shit is in three locations in two states.

I guess that isn’t a “LOT” of travel, not compared to what I did when I worked, but its more than I want.

Travel. Been there – done that – its worse than ever. Especially flying – which I will only be doing once, I think.

You know what shits people are, Enas? My latest Craigslist post about Damien was reported and removed for TOS violation. I can’t think why. I included some hints about finding a lost cat that linked to the guys who made his chip, so maybe they thought it was commercial. But further down the page (the lost and found page, mind you!) is an ad for some tow truck guys who’ll haul off your hooptie for $300, so what the fuck?

Then I’m driving in this morning and I see most of the flyers I put up on telephone poles Saturday have been taken down.

There are days I hate my whole species. And those days are called “Mondays.”

Jeez, Weasel! Far as I’m concerned, you can’t vacate that neighborhood soon enough! What a bunch of dickheads!

*And why doesn’t my Firefox spell-checker have “dickhead” in it? Perfectly good word…so I added it.*

Weasel, dollars to donuts the flyers were taken down by a code inspector with nothing better to do over the weekend. They love to do that around me.

Weasel, in my city they do not allow signs taped to any of the lightposts either. If you want to advertise lost critters or garage sales, you have to make your own ‘post’…like they do to sell your house. You may want to call your city to see if they will allow that and for how long you can keep it up.

Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me. But they don’t bother the “we roof houses” and “we tow away junk cars” signs on the same damn posts.

Mmmmm…smells like kickback.

But they don’t bother the “we roof houses” and “we tow away junk cars” signs on the same damn posts.

Not to be mean, but maybe Damien’s new parents tore them down.

I thought of that, too. As it turns out, it’s a fairly random removal, so it smells of city worker. Actually, the little bastard has been spotted in the neighborhood again, so the city workers may have done me a favor.

It could cost me a fortune if everybody comes to collect.

A new cat we got (from a family that didn’t want it anymore) disappeared without a trace shortly after we got it to our home. Found it 3 months later under the house. A little raggedy by that stage but still healthy.

I dunno, NYC. I’m kind of weirded out by this one. I mean, I’ve raised this cat from tiny kittenhood. I thought he was into me, you know?

I could see it if I forced him to be an inside cat and he got his first taste of freedom and wanted more. But no. He’s got a cat door for fuck’s sake!