August Rain, Climate Change, and George Carlin | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on August 15, 2017:

This creek is usually 6″ wide and half that deep.

“I think we’ve been abducted and mistakenly returned somewhere other than Texas.” I’ve heard David make that statement several times recently. It’s a valid observation. August is usually very hot and very dry in the Lone Star State, but so far we’ve had between 8-10” at our house and a week with highs in the 80s – and it’s only the 13^th!

I hesitated to broach this subject, because it usually leads to discussions about climate change. The last time I engaged in that kind of conversation, it didn’t end well. Shortly after the last election, a friend who was unhappy with the results reached out to me in an attempt to understand “the other side.” She asked questions and asked for honest answers, but when I responded, she was shocked. Knowing someone disagrees with you apparently evokes completely different emotions than seeing it written down in black and white. Let’s just say she now thinks the Venus/Mars difference between men and women is more manageable than our differing beliefs.

What a city girl doesn’t know about pigs | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on August 1, 2017:

I met a new friend this week. Becky owns a one-operator beauty salon outside of town, and she is very popular at the Senior Center for her Senior Thursday haircuts. She’s also very interesting to talk to.

While she was working on my unruly curls, she mentioned that her son might be going to college on a scholarship, that is, if he agreed to continue training pigs for the show ring. Training pigs? I knew that pot bellied pigs could be domesticated and even trained to use a litter box, but I had trouble imagining them jumping hurdles in an agility ring or responding to commands in an obedience ring. 

Anywhere she wants – a Kitty story | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on May 30, 2017:

There’s an old joke that poses the questions “Where does a 900-pound gorilla sleep?” The answer, of course, is “anywhere he wants to.” That same principle applies in the Brendle household. The last time we managed to wrangle Kitty onto the scale, she only weighed in at fourteen pounds, but she still sleeps anywhere she wants to.

I set a bad precedence shortly after she evolved from being an under-the –porch stray to queen of the castle. When she showed an interest in the TV table formerly known as my computer desk, I moved the computer to my ottoman or my lap. It is, after all, a laptop. We also cleared off various surfaces to allow her a clear view out the windows, and she was satisfied with her territory for a while. Lately, though, I’ve noticed subtle encroachments taking place.

Kitty – Interior Designer | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on April 25, 2017:

Saturday morning was project time around our house. The first project was in the dining room and the second was in the bedroom – and Kitty was right in the middle of both of them.

The dining room task involved a new table and chairs, or new to us anyway. After David’s mother passed away, his sister inherited a good deal of her furniture. Sentiment only goes so far when it comes to decorating tastes, so she recently asked David if we would like to have the dining table and chairs. Since what we had was really too big for our dining area and didn’t match the built-in hutch very well, he said yes.

Kitty – when she’s good… | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on April 11, 2017:

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem called “There was a little girl.” For those who don’t remember it, here’s the first verse:

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good

She was very, very good,

And when she was bad she was horrid.

 That describes Kitty – not the curl, of course, but the good and the bad – especially during and after a week of being left on her own.

In case you missed my last column, David and I recently spent a week playing with Spike, our big dog friend. Kitty doesn’t go with us when we house sit, because she was not very well behaved the last time she visited. She’s very self reliant at home as long as we leave her with a clean litter box and a full bowl. Apparently, though, she get’s lonely.

After taking care of Spike’s needs each morning, David would drop me off at the church, and he would go to the house, check the mail, and tend to Kitty’s needs. Even though she’s still somewhat anti-social, being alone for most of the time made her much more friendly. She rubbed against David’s legs, almost tripping him up more than once, and she jumped up on the couch next to him. She even tolerated being picked up and held in his lap, sometimes for as long as a minute or two.

David is still Kitty’s favorite, but when our house sitting gig was over and we both returned home, she was even affectionate to me. She would jump up on my ottoman several times a day and stand still while I petted her, and she tolerated being brushed once in a while. Every night I wake up with her sleeping at my feet instead of just every now and then. Believe it or not, I have even been allowed to scratch her neck from time to time.

That’s the good part. The bad part is that she learned a new way to get into mischief while she was home alone.

The first clue I noticed was a dead bug or two and some bits of other twiggy-looking things on the stove and surrounding countertop. It had been windy, so I assumed I was seeing debris that had been blown down the exhaust fan (country roofs get very dirty). Nothing else on the cabinet had been disturbed, so no other possibility occurred to me. Then, one day I walked into the kitchen and knew something wasn’t right.

Our kitchen cabinets stop about a foot shy of the ceiling, and there is a small strip of molding around the top. The molding is strictly decorative  and it’s not expected that there will be any traffic way up there, so it’s only held on by a couple of staples and some glue. That day, however, the strip on the cabinet beside the sink wasn’t being held in place by much of anything except one lone staple. It was suspended at a crazy angle, resting against an angel that hangs on the side of the cabinet. I pointed it out to David, and we both knew immediately what had caused it. (Apparently, the molding hides dead bugs and other twiggy things, too.)

That night, David and I were in bed reading when I heard an unfamiliar sound from the kitchen. It took a few seconds for the sound to penetrate past the plot of the latest thriller that had my attention. When it finally did, I put down my book and listened.

“That sounded like a cat jumping up on the cabinets,” I said.

Either David’s book is much more engrossing than mine or he has never listened with a parent’s ears. “What?” he said.

I climbed out of bed and headed for the kitchen. I flipped on the light, and there she was, staring down at me from her perch several feet above the countertops, and looking very pleased with herself. I hurried back to the bedroom and grabbed the squirt bottle full of water that we use for disciplinary purposes. Back in the kitchen, I didn’t see her at first, but then she peeked out from behind the canning pot that stays above the microwave. My first shot caught her in the face, and she backtracked to the corner. I hit her with several more good squirts before she jumped down to the stovetop and took off for parts unknown.

I didn’t hear much out of her for the rest of the night, but by morning, she was waiting by the food bowl for her breakfast. Since then, I’ve seen a bit more dust on the countertop a couple of times, but she has saved her antics for her alone times, so there’s not much I can do. Besides, she’s still being pretty good most of the time, and I’ll settle for that.

Blessings,

Linda

Spike’s Big Adventure | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on April 4, 2017:

David and I spent last week with our canine friend who lives in Alba while his humans were on a cruise. He would have preferred a pair who would have stayed on the patio in case he was hungry or wanted to be petted and otherwise allowed him to run free. Unfortunately, he got us instead, so he had to resort to trickery.

How Old Is Kitty? | by Linda Brendle

Published in the Rains County Leader on March 21, 2017:

Traditional wisdom tells us that one human year is equal to seven dog years and that the ratio is even higher for cats; however, the Internet says something entirely different. When Kitty came to live with us in June of 2015, we guessed that she was born around May 15. That means she is approaching her second birthday, but I wanted to find out how old she was in “cat years.” According to various age calculators for cats, she is anywhere from early teens to late twenties. I guess we’ll say she’s two years old and leave it at that.