Tales from the furry side
May 8, 2009 • 2 Comments
My tabby cat has never been Ms. Adventurous, especially since the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness hit town. The bedroom is her domain and, frankly, that’s where she prefers to stay, away from the Demon Lord chaos.
Ergo, for want of exercise she has come to resemble one of the pillows. Or a bowling ball. Bowling balls aren’t great at grooming their hindquarters. We seem to get along with garden-variety brushing for about eleven months and then poof, she’s covered in mats from the hips back.
Happily for all the furry bowling balls out there, Groomer2Go comes to the rescue–directly to my door. Yeah, it’s a titch more cash than a visit to the beauty parlour, but it saves on wear and tear for all concerned. Getting my girl into a carrier gives a whole new meaning to Octopussy.
Of course, the grooming fairy insists I put the cat in a half-nelson and hold her down on the mat for the shaving procedure. Cue the sound effects, calculated to strike terror into our hearts: “Mmmmrrroooowwwowowwoowwwowwww!”
Groomer and I fall into a fit of the giggles. Not the intended effect.
I don’t blame the cat for objecting, since we are giving her private parts a buzz cut. The effect is a bit like a rear-end Mohawk. After twenty torturous minutes, in which I am bitten, peed on, and sworn at in cat, the ordeal is over. I tip the groomer in big-time apology. Tabby lost dignity and enough hair to knit another kitten. I lost flesh. Thank the great feline goddess that’s over with for another year.
Then I fed my girl and she purred and cuddled. I guess getting all those lumps out of her coat counts for something.
Dating tips for dark heroes
April 16, 2009 • No Comments
Heroes: Definitely a matter of taste, but there are certain essentials: generous size, just the right amount of fillings, nicely toasted buns. But it’s not just the, um, pastrami that counts.
In keeping with most readers, I have strong and unapologetic opinions about what a hero should be like. For starters, I don’t have much patience with the über alpha knuckle-dragger who mows through a story muttering MINE MINE MINE and marking his territory, incl. the heroine, like a Tom cat with urinary issues. (Anyone remember Red Dwarf?)
I like a manly man, but one who actually likes the fact that the heroine is her own person. Sure, he can untie her from the train tracks and sweep her away to a mountaintop chalet for a solid week of mind-blowing sex …that’s all part of the fun…but if two characters are the missing halves of each other seeking a zen-like balance, neither one can be completely in charge all the time.
But he can’t be too perfect, either. Realistic characters don’t have everything figured out on page one. For there to be growth, for hero to fall in love and, y’know, to have a plot, there’s probably stuff he needs to learn. And, if the hero is still searching for the ultimate designer wardrobe, weaponry, or the meaning of life, the heroine has something substantial to offer him. Advice. Comfort. Padded hangers. Whatever.
And he might not realize right away what a wonderful gift he’s been given, because a good protagonist usually screws up at least once. We bond with them because of their mistakes. Who doesn’t love a hero all the more when he finally sees the light and set out to make things right? It’s their struggle to be better that gives the reader courage and hope.
Speaking of bonding … I love the latest Bond incarnation, because—even though he’s, like, Bond—he gets dirty, hurt, grumpy and doesn’t always have the right answer. I can believe he walks the earth (and please give me his address).
So, for all you dark heroes taking notes, a few miscellaneous tips:
• Don’t sniff your date, even if you are a werewolf. It sends the wrong message.
• Allow your date to set the pace of courtship. Just because she’s your destined mate doesn’t mean she won’t get a restraining order.
• Don’t brag about your wardrobe, limitless personal fortune, or private army. It makes us want to poke you in the eye.
• Don’t claw the furniture, bedsheets, chew on the carpet, or shed. Shift in the back yard, for pity’s sake.
• If you’re Undead, let your new girl know early in the relationship. Corpse Surprise on the morning after can put chill a promising friendship, not to mention your lover’s feet.
• Most important, consult a professional hairdresser for a good shampoo. All that black clothing has its challenges.
Cat adventure
February 23, 2009 • 1 Comment
I had the best job in the world this Saturday. My task was to tag along with a friend and help her make wise decisions about cat adoption. Notice I used the singular.
This was a bit like taking a tippler to a wine tasting. Temptation was compounded by the fact that I wasn’t the one smuggling a hard luck story home and trying to explain it my furbles. This was fun shopping entirely on someone else’s dime.
To make a long story short, we ended up at the pound, just to look. They had a half-dozen or so strays there, but there are hundreds of unwanted cats and kittens in the city that have landed in shelters. Most are volunteer-run organizations. This was a very small sampling—lucky for us, because it was heartbreaking enough as it was.
We went into the back area with the cat kennels and met Samson. He resembles Sylvester, if Sylvester had a bad accident with a weed whacker and was subsequently electrocuted. He’s a long-haired boy about five years old who was living wild, but he was obviously a spoiled pet at some point. He reminds me of a swashbuckling cavalier fallen on hard times. Once the matted fur is taken care of, he’s going to be gorgeous.
And then there was a female chocolate point ragdoll named Rosebud (the name has to change). She had been dumped in the wild, probably because she needs medical attention for one eye. Like Samson, she’s an affectionate, purring sort who had a good home once upon a time. She is a beautiful, elegant animal that really needs a crystal food bowl and silk cushions to complete the look.
After a masterful job of justification, we took both home. Samson was in my lap in no time, playing Velcro kitty. Rosie took a little bit longer to gain confidence, but was checking things out by the time I left that night.
Yes, I really did an excellent job making sure my friend just looked and didn’t take anyone home. However, two needy cats that were abandoned by their former owners found a loving guardian. This was a happy ending. I wish we could have taken them all.
The Demon Lord Speaks
January 13, 2009 • No Comments
Check out the interview with the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness at the Chatty Cat Cafe here: http://myblog.susannesaville.com/ and enter to win a copy of RAVENOUS
Don’t try this with the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness
October 21, 2008 • No Comments
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/howaboutthat/3229125/Swimming-with-tigers.html
I thought this was just too cool. After dancing with wolves, we can now swim with tigers ….
Demons, Kitty and otherwise
July 3, 2008 • 1 Comment
The Demon Lord of Kitty Badness has discovered how to open cupboard doors. Which close with a bonk as soon as he lets them go. Repeatedly. At four a.m.
So I stumble into the kitchen to wring his fuzzy neck and discover he’s bowling with muffins. Glad to know my baking is so entertaining.
It was the perfect ending to day in which a) my iPod dumped all my music b) I spent six hours at the computer trying to convince a demon and a vampire to kiss (what, like they have a right to be fussy?) and c) the reference book I wanted turned out to be $358 used.
On the upside, it is only a 2.5 day work week. I could get used to that, if I could keep the whole paycheque ….
The queen, unamused
May 13, 2008 • No Comments
The queen
I’m finally getting around to posting some shots of The Queen. She and the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness (DLKB) are not on speaking terms, mostly because he bounces too much and tries to eat all her food. Not easy to see in these shots, but she has the approximate configuration of a bowling ball on tiny, dainty paws.
DLKB
Leaky cats
May 11, 2008 • No Comments
My good friend has an elderly cat. I shared house space with Mr. H (the cat) and his brother for the first many years of his life. Now that he is of a curmudgeonly age (the cat, not my friend), I am one of the auxiliary humans called upon when something medical needs doing.
Lately, this something has involved pumping fluids into him via subcutaneous injection. The ritual involves swathing Mr. H in a large yellow towel and clinging on for dear life while my friend stabs him with a needle. Then we assume the position long enough for the drip to happen. If the Paws of Death do not emerge from the towel–one sneaky claw at a time–about twenty minutes later we emerge unbloodied and the cat sloshes away. Mr. H looks weird with one side bulging full of ringer’s solution, sort of like half a sumo cat. The good part is it perks him right up.
This is not without its ridiculous side. The other night I was sitting there with a half-nelson on Mr. H and thought, “great, he’s fighting back with his bladder.” Turned out the needle had gone in and right out the other side of the fold of skin. We were hydrating my pant leg instead of the cat. My friend withdrew the needle and started over, only to discover the solution still trickling out of Mr. H like a half-hearted garden fountain. I always assumed skin would heal over a needle prick instantly, but he’d sprung a leak where the extra puncture had been. Happily, he did not start leaking air and whizz around the ceiling like a burst balloon.
All’s well that ended well – when we were done Mr. H still chased his kibble around the floor like a maniac.
Finally up and running, sort of
April 20, 2008 • 3 Comments
My temporary web site is up at www.sharonashwood.com. There’s not much there yet because, let’s face it, until I at least get a cover design for my book there’s not much to include. However, having someplace to put all that good stuff once it arrives makes me feel better. I’m on the web; therefore, I exist and can move on to other things. It’ll be nice when the official and better designed site gets up and running, but this at least gives me a place to hang out.
I’ve wanted to spend time on this blog relating interesting tidbits about the supernatural in the news. However, I’ve suddenly been hearing a lot about nanofoods. Not exactly paranormal, but not exactly normal either, and worth a thought.
Nanofood is, apparently, food with enhanced molecular “extras.” The point is to change the properties of food to, say, taste like whole fat mayo when it’s mostly water or make something whip to a froth that isn’t supposed to. The possibilities for enhanced nutrient contents or really good “diet” foods is huge, what one writer described as a new industrial revolution.
What nobody knows at this point is the long term effects of this stuff and, after the outcry against genetically modified foods, it seems the development of nanofoods is happening in a quiet way. I read one oblique reference to a problem with the nanobits unexpectedly going diving in the nucleii of nearby cells–something the researchers viewed with understandable concern. Extra bits swimming in the DNA. Can’t be good.
I might be excused for thinking of the Borg. Already I have enough problems walking past a bakery and thinking “resistance is futile.”
And this all goes to prove that, whatever I dream up as a writer, reality is much more strange.