Blue Ridge blog

Mister Man 1994(ish)-2008

Mister Man came into this world under violent circumstances. Almost 14 years ago or so he, along with his siblings, were put in a pillowcase and dumped into a snow bank. Miraculously, the kittens were spotted and brought to the Watauga Humane Society. Mister Man, dubbed 'Stormy' by the kind shelter volunteers, was massaged back to life. His siblings were not as fortunate. He lost about 3 inches of his tail due to frost bite but I don't think he ever missed it. In fact, Ialways got the feeling he was more grateful to us for saving him from a life within the confines of the shelter's cat room.
Monsieur Man was an outdoor sort of fella...forever on the hunt of the errant chipmunk. His scars included a notched ear, missing teeth, and more the loss of a handful of his nine lives. He was happiest posing on his favorite rock, nesting in my lap or curled up tight against Harley.
He was a lover and a fighter. But this afternoon he lost his final battle while embraced by our love. My little buddy had an advanced stage of lymphoma in his chest. A pitiful amount of fluid was drained from his chest while a tumor took up the rest of the space. Every breath was a struggle. We made the family decision to not prolong Mister Man's agony.
As we pet and cooed and cried our good-byes to Mister Man, my eldest sobbed, shrugged her shoulders and asked, "Didn't we just go through this with Harley?"
Yes. We did. It was a hard weekend and a suckity-doo-da day but as I sit here writing this post tonight, I have to believe that somehow, Mister Man is just a wee bit happier tonight snuggling up to Harley...just like back in the day.

Mister Man to Puppy, "Do like this."

Mister Man is teaching puppy all kind of important new skill sets such as, climbing stairs and staring through a dirty kitchen door window.

Tidyings of comfort and a bit 'Wanda-ful' joy...

I'm not sure exactly which of the many things I would like to share with you more, so I'll talk about my walk about with the cat and about one of my secret desires...

I went on my first walk around the woods without Harley. It was a successful step. The tears have long ceased, but as the saying goes, "old habits die hard," and so it goes with every move I make in or around the house. I find myself looking for her. For example, I accidently called for her when I got out of my car this week. "Here Har Star," I yelled. I caught myself, but then out came the cat to greet me. I think Mister Man is missing Harley more than me. He always loved the dog who tolerated him, but never reciprocated the feelings.
I've doted on Mister Man because of his loss of warm fur in which to rub, snuggle. And it's fair to say we lean on each other more now than ever. I took Mister Man with me on my first walk in the woods. In the past he would join Harley and me on our jaunts, but would be skittish and hang back as if to be the first one to tell the adults we were into mischief. Now Mister Man wants to walk between my legs. Out of frustration and necessity, I pick him up and and carry him the rest of the way, which is probably what he wanted all along...
We are o.k.
And now, about my secret desire...
Sit down because this is tough for me to admit.
I confess. I've always wanted to be a Cabbage Queen.
You heard me. I wanna be an over 40 princess who wears a DRESS and puts on a red wig topped by a tiara. I wanna be a 'Wanda' who supports zero tolerance of the beating of women and children. I could wield one heck of a dangerous cruciferous veggie if'n someone raised a hand at a child. But I have to work and I'm not connected to that particular community of women.
Me=Sad Face.
I reckon I'll just have to remain an in the closet 'Cabbage Queen.

Note: Mom, whatever you do, don't google 'Cabbage Queen' and see how the Urban Dictionary defines it. Don't do it. I warn you. It's nasty.
You're gonna do it anyway now. I know you...

The photos? Number 1 is from my walk through the woods with Mister Man. You can see our road. Number 2 (below) is of the Cabbage Queens of Boone in Saturday's Christmas parade.

P.S. Hey Mom, ASU won again. They played Eastern Washington University--which is kinda, sorta near where your little hitchhiker was picked up. Anyhoo, I made a photo album of the game. See my sidebar.

Much love,
Me

Cat in chiminea

It was cool enough this evening to start a fire in the chiminea, but Mister Man looked so comfortable....
After making him suffer through a photo session, I decided to leave him in peace. Sigh.

Hartley Knob

Because it has rained forever this week, I have chosen to include on today's post a photo of Hartley Knob which I took Saturday from the Blue Ridge Parkway. If you squint real hard, you might see the three crosses that adorn the grassy peak. Well over a year ago I took this photo from a spot much closer ('cept you can't see the crosses).  At this point near Bamboo Gap on the Parkway is about as close to the town of Boone as it gets. Just so you know...

This morning Mr. Man greeted me at the kitchen door with a dead varmint. He meowed for me through a mouthful of mouse to take notice of his prize. I praised him while patting him upon the head. He sweetly laid mouse to rest upon a folding chair. He sniffed at mouse. He pawed at mouse. He turned mouse over. He could resist the urge no longer. Mr. Man grabbed the beast by the head and ate it till it was all gone. I gagged at the sound of crunching bones. It is hard me me to stomach such things before my morning coffee. Just thought I'd share....

My jungle kitty

So this morning on my way to work I saw Mister Man on guard looking for little wild creatures to torment.
He soon left his perch. Apparently he was miffed that I noticed him.

Hey Fish Face!

See Orangy smile! He follows my finger each morning as I slide it across the fishbowl. I talk to Orangy and ask him if he would like to eat breakfast. He eagerly waves his fins at me and gives me a goofy little grin. I often apologize to him and beg his forgiveness for bestowing upon him an appelation so apparently lacking ingenuity. I could have named him Adonis or maybe Jethro, which would have been a more fitting name for such a studly fish.

Orangy will be two this summer. He was bought for 25 cents at Walmart because he was not expected to live long. I took this photo of Orangy because twice this weekend I saved him from the claws of Mister Man . Yes folks, it is not just a cartoon thing. Cats really do fish. And I vow to make sure my little bargain basement beta stays around for a long while...

Our Bucktoothed Banshee

We tried our best to make a pumpkin like hers in hopes that it would resemble Mister Man in his most Ferocious state, but the results looked more like an aborted pumpkin than Mister Man. Thus, we spun it around and started with a fresh pumpkin slate. Youngest was the pumpkin artist, fashioning the face and hair after her really really good friend 'M'. For the record, 'M' does not have buckteeth, but she does have electrifying hair and in certain company, is quite capable of giving the stare of a screaming banshee. In this photo, Mister Man checks out our artistry.

And what in the heck are you doing that is more important than reading Mr. Adventure ?