Sunday, April 17, 2011

"Pussies galore!"

As we near May Day, I approach my bi-polar obsession of Paganism and Socialism with a continued nod to my animal friends.  I think I prefer animals to most people.  They don't drive badly, join the NRA or watch Fox News.  Yes, Hitler had his did Bush.  Clinton had a cat.  Bravo!  Better a warlock to have his familiar, than a jackboot to have a Cheney or Rove.  Giggle here...otherwise, bite me.

(Speaking of bi-polar...I had a twit of a friend once write to someone, "you know I think Guden is bi-polar." I wrote back, "How dare you? I have never had a homosexual relationship with an eskimo."  Watch out my friend, those who re-write your history.  Suggest they invest in Fecal Wash, the eyewash for those with Cabeza del Bunghol.)  :)

Cats...I love them. It's the BASTard in me.  Tee-hee!

I love all creatures great and small.  Many animals in the Guden household.  But with only one dog that I can recall dearly, a lovely brown chihuahua that my sister had, I seem to remember the family as mainly a household of cats.

Our first cat was brought into the household by my sister Kay, now Katherine.  She had an interest in all things French (went to France before any of us left Orange County).  I think it was a white kitten.  Named it Pousoi.  A later kitten was named Pousette.  So a French thing started here.

After that, when we left Fullerton for Diamond Bar...cats were named Clouseau, Toulouse and Shadeau (or Shadoux, as this was a Franco-hallucinatory play on the Mad Magazine parody of The Shadow with the character called Lamont Shadowskiddeeboomboom....or so I remember).

Be careful what you name your animals.  Our cat Toulouse, named after the famous tiny French poster painter with the damaged legs, slept in the garage.  Accidentally, my father driving his car in, ran over the cat's legs, rendering him crippled like his namesake.  My wife and I had a cat named Nico, after the singer. Though not killed in a bicycle accident in Spain or a heroin overdose, poor Nico was hit by a car and dragged himself onto the driveway to die.  We were watching Veggietales when this happened.  Can't stomach them anymore.  Bob the Tomato is now in my BLT, minus the B. (Recently joined PETA.)  Loved the Cheeseburger song, but we can get past this.  Back to my Pagan's only a song.  One of the key members of Strawberry Alarm Clock ("incense & peppermint"...all those cool paisley psychedelic shirts...fuzz guitar, drone E organ) became a real estate mogul, redeveloping the vistas of Santa Barbara for high-end condos and businesses.  "Let US pave your paradise."  But I digress...

The photo of past is yours truly with Fu (after Fu Manchu), the white Siamese and I believe, the yet to be ill-fated Toulouse.  It might be Shadoux or Shadeau.  I'm not sure.  I'm turning into Reagan: "I'm sorry... I can't recall.  Too many micro-waves from the G.E. All-Electric Home.  Plus radio.  I don't recall signing the contra orders.  I was under anaesthesia and my V.P. was in charge.  Hey, do you remember Death Valley Days and the 20 Mule team?  Boraxo soap sponsored that show and sometimes the team only had 17 Mules.  What do you think was in the soap?  We learned a lot from the Germans.  I'm sorry...I'm getting sleepy now, Mommy.  Bedtime for Bonzo."

When I got married and moved into a house...well the cat commune really begins. I am the L. Ron Hubbard of cat cults.  Care to be mEow E-Metered?  Claro, el Gato?  Tee-hee!

Seriously, though.  My wife and her family were cat lovers.  There were several cats when I arrived, but sadly all of them have passed on.  You may have already seen the posted foto of Emma in my rant on radio General Managers.  The children of Malcolm and Nico and Glenda and sister Kinski (they were a VERY CLOSE family and aptly named) are still here but one, thank the Gods of old.  I quietly call them the Brothers Karamazov, but Grime and Punishment could also fit for literary punsters.  Six cats in all, and two outsiders who visit, have a meal and carry on their journey.

But wait, I haven't told you about our Easter Bunny that arrived near All Hallow's Eve.  And the colourful parrots that out-sing Carmen Miranda.  And the ancient, all knowing turtles, smaller cousins of those on Ascension Island.  And the generations of possums, related to our dear Pogo.  And the soulful raccoons, almost the size of small kangaroos, who will eat out of your hand.  And...

But first, let's watch our favourite pet quiz show, "What's My feLine?"  Brought to you by CAT, a tonic.  The healthy drink that leaves you refreshed AND stationary.  Now let's introduce you to the paw-nel...I mean, kennel.  "That star of stage and screen and litter box..."