Author: crittersandcats

Waker-Upper

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My Brief Career As A Waker-upper

World War II was hard on families. All of the young able-bodied men went into the service. In our little town of 5,000 people every block was affected. There were little flag-like things you could hang in your living room window that indicated you had someone in the service. These “flags” were rectangular and just guessing, I’d say they were about 6″ x 12‘’ and were white with a red border and had a blue star in the center. There would be a blue star for every person from your family that was in the service. If the person was killed, the blue star would be covered with a gold star. I remember riding my bike down the street and seeing one flag after another in the living room windows.

Two doors south of us lived Harold and Martha “Mattie” Guest. We called them Uncle Harold and Aunt Mattie though we weren’t really related. Mattie was the sister of my great aunt, Rachel Peebler. Harold and Mattie had a flag in the window with 3 stars in it. Their oldest son, Ed, was in the Army and fighting in Europe. As I recall, he was over there for 2 or 3 years before he got to come home on furlough. The middle son, Bill, was in the Navy and I believe he served in the South Pacific. I think the youngest son, Jack, was in the Navy also but I’m not sure. The Guests had 2 daughters who had loved ones in the war. Jean, the oldest, was waiting for Wayne Porter and I’m not sure if they married before, during, or after the war. Mattie and Harold’s other daughter, Jane, was waiting for Charlie Fennell and I think they married after the war. As you can see, the Guest family was putting a lot on the line for the war effort.

Young men who were 17 could enlist in the service with their parents’ permission. In late 1945 and 1946, the high schools were full of young men that had skipped their senior year and joined the service. Now, these returning veterans wanted to earn their high school diploma and resume their lives. It wasn’t easy for them to return to such a mundane environment after life in the military and in many cases, in combat.

The war was over and I was a 9 year old when Mom told me to go over and talk to Harold and Mattie because they might have a job for me. I went to their house and they re-affirmed what I knew about Jack being home from the service and going back to school to get his degree. They were happy that he had gone back to school but said that he was having trouble because he was bored. Jack was out every night drinking beer with his friends or chasing girls and staying out late. As a result, he was late to school every day and was in trouble for it. They proposed that I become Jack’s official “waker-upper” and get him up for school every day. Mattie and Harold both had to leave early for work but if Jack could sleep in until 7:30, he could still make it to school on time. They warned me that I couldn’t just wake him and leave for he would say he was getting up but would go back to sleep. I was supposed to hang around until he was on his feet. For my services, I believe they agreed to pay me a quarter per week.

It turned out that getting Jack out of bed was a lot harder than I had anticipated. I would talk and talk and sometimes pull the covers back but he still tried to ignore me. After I got his eyes open once, I would go out and sit on the front porch for a few minutes before checking on him. Jack was a really nice guy and I liked him a lot but when I was trying to wake him I stayed out of reach. He was a fair-sized man and I was just a 9 year old twerp.

I don’t remember how long I was an official “waker-upper”. I don’t know if Jack got in the habit of waking up or if his folks just gave up.

Dave Thomas
August 15, 2015

http://www.bluestarmothers.org/service-flag

 

IZZIE-9 Tucker-Inner

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Cats like to have order in their lives. They establish routines that are meaningful to them and they expect the rest of us to honor them as well. To keep their routines running smoothly they assign tasks to each of us and expect us to execute these jobs on demand. For instance, Pat and I have jobs that were assigned to us by our cat, Isabella. We can both feed her and take her for walks outside and share in some of the other mundane responsibilities but we do have our primary chores. Pat is responsible for combing Izzie 2 or 3 times a day and is also the designated player in games like Hide and Seek and Chase. I’ll discuss these items another time. Right now, I’d like to tell you about my job as “tucker-inner” and how that developed and how it works today.

Izzie was more than 5 years old when we got her. Before she came to us, she had been living in a in a pet motel which is basically just a bunch of cages. She only weighed 2 pounds. We figured that after being in that place for 3 months without love or stimulation she was no longer cared about eating and would soon pass away. As you can imagine, her psyche was in bad shape when she came to us.

We didn’t know where Izzie was going to sleep and until she became familiar with the house, she didn’t either. We made it a habit, every night, to find her and know where she was sleeping so we wouldn’t step on her in the dark. When we found her, she would usually raise her head so we would scratch her ears and rub the bridge of her nose and tell her “good night.” Quite often, Pat would be busy doing chores so I was the one petting her at bed-time. If I wasn’t paying attention she would meow or attract my attention some way and let me know it was time for bed.

To be a good cat person, you have to be alert because their signals are usually pretty subtle. Cats normally become scared if you look them in the eye so they avoid staring at you. They only look directly at you if they want something.

It has become my responsibility to see that Izzie is “tucked in” every night. She has established the routine that we pretty much adhere to. During the period of Daylight Savings Time, Izzie goes to bed about 8:30 in the evening. After we “fall back” to Pacific Standard Time, she goes at 7:30. She starts the routine by going to the kitchen for a light snack. Then, after a drink of water, she sets in the kitchen doorway and looks out into the living room while she washes up. Next, there is a trip to the litter box to take care of business and then a return to the living room where she sits back on her haunches and stares at me. I have to be on the ball and recognize that she is telling me it is her bed time. If I ignore her because I’m interested in the TV or something, she’ll wait for a while and then go on to bed.

If I’m alert, I’ll get “the look” and jump up and start toward her. As soon as she sees me coming she’ll turn around and start down the hall for whatever sleeping place she has chosen. She will usually walk 5 or 6 feet and then look back over her shoulder to see if I’m coming. She normally does this a couple of times until we get to our destination. (She probably thinks that having limited intelligence, I’ll wander off and get lost.)

When we arrive at the designated sleeping place, she stops and looks up at me. Then, I scratch her ears and forehead and rub the bridge of her nose. Then, she turns 180 degrees and takes a step so she is in position to have her back stroked. After 3 or 4 strokes, she reverses and we do the ears and nose again. Usually we repeat this 3 times and then she lies down. At this point, I pet her a couple more times and say “good night”. She’s tucked in.

This sounds complicated, doesn’t it? It’s what Izzie has worked out over the years and I just do whatever makes her happy.

Dave Thomas
December 20, 2014

 

Another Story: Jimmy

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Another Story-Jimmy

I was working at Howard Motors. The shop had 6 stalls for regular engine work and generally had 4 or 5 experienced mechanics working. At this particular time we only had four mechanics and two of them had just been there a short time. One of them, Jimmy was a real nice young man, and was just married a few months prior. His wife came down to the shop one day and Jimmy introduced her to all of us. He was a good mechanic and was well liked by his clients. His hobby was a pair of nickel-plated .44 Smith & Wesson revolvers for which he loaded his own ammunition. He had invited me over to his house once to show me the pistols and his reloading equipment. Then, we went out to the rock quarry and did some target shooting with those nickel plated cannons.

The other new mechanic was a guy named Mike. He was a good mechanic also but was one of those devil-may-care guys and his hobby was building and racing stock cars. He was a crazy S.O.B. but I liked him. He had invited me to his place a couple of times to work on his ’37 Ford stock car and I had attended one of his races in Wichita at the Hillside race track. On one of these outings I had met his wife who was a real, nice girl.

One morning neither Jimmy nor Mike showed up for work. It was mighty cold outside but there was no snow or ice to cause any driving problems so we had no clue as to why the guys weren’t there. Kenny Markley, the Service Manager made some job assignments to cover the customers who were there when we opened up and we all went about our business. A while later I had a car up on the grease rack and was working on it and I looked up and here comes Jimmy. Jimmy was wearing a big coat and he started to unbutton it as he started talking.   He started right off with “You and your friends are out cruising around town every night and I want to know if you saw my wife and Mike last night?” As he finished talking, he also finished the last button on his coat and it dropped open and I saw that he was wearing his gun belt with a .44 on each hip! “What the hell are you doing, Jimmy?” I asked “what are you doing?” “Oh, I just want to talk to them”, he says, “Did you see them last night?” Well, yes, I had seen them drive past, laughing and carrying on but I wasn’t about to tell him. I’m starting to realize that this conversation is way above what an 18 year old kid can handle and start looking for help. The Dutch door of the Parts Department was open at the top and I can see Phil Harding, the Parts Manager in there working. Phil was in his 50’s, smart, quiet, and well respected. I also know that he was a Golden Gloves boxer as a young man. I figure he’s the right guy for this job. I said to Jimmy, “I don’t have any idea where they might be.” That was the truth. Then I say “let’s go talk to Phil and see if he can help figure this out.”Jimmy is so steamed up he’s about to explode and anything sounds good to him so we walk over to that Dutch door with the little counter built on it. Phil looks up and sees us and I wink at him so he’ll know something is up. Phil says “What’s going on?” “Well,” I say, “Jimmy thinks his wife is out with Mike and he’s looking for them. You probably noticed he’s wearing his guns and I thought maybe you could help us figure this out.” About this time, Kenny, the Service Manager yells and asks me if I’ve finished that car I was working on. I walk over to talk to him, practically wanting to kiss him for getting me away from that situation. I quickly told him what was happening and he said he would get on over there. Kenny was probably 6’2” and more than 250 pounds and was quiet and friendly and strong as a bull. He was another good man to put on the job.

I went back to work and left the two best men in the place to deal with the problem. It was probably about half an hour before Phil and Kenny came out together and told me what happened. They talked to Jimmy until he calmed down and then asked him for his guns. He gave them up without a fuss and they locked them in the company safe.

Jimmy and his wife got things straightened out. She was just a kid and when they had moved to a new town she didn’t know what to do with herself and got bored. When she met fast-talking Mike, he seemed more exciting than what she had been experiencing. Jimmy took her back and she got a job clerking somewhere to keep her busy. Mike quit his job and moved on, just like he always did.

Dave Thomas
 December 7, 2013

 

I Wanna Go Home

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Pat and the kids and I were on one of our vacation trips back to Kansas. Russ and Doug were almost six and Terri was almost three. We were on our favorite route which took us through the Salt River Canyon in eastern Arizona and on to Show Low and Springerville. Traveling on Highway 60 was an easy way through the mountains and after crossing into New Mexico takes us to Pie Town, Socorro, and Vaughn.

This particular night, it was getting pretty late and the kids were fussy and hadn’t dropped off to sleep yet. We always started our trips in the evening so the kids would fall asleep and we could have a peaceful ride without listening to “Are we there, yet” and the other normal kid stuff. Doug was complaining that he had to go to the bathroom. We were never sure whether he really had to go or just wanted to check the place out. We called him the “Bathroom Inspector” and I guess every family has one. Actually, they are just curious kids who want to get out of the car and see something new.

Russ was behaving well and only said that he was hungry. Terri, who was normally quiet and easy-going, however, was crying and whining because she didn’t want to sleep in the car. She wanted to sleep in her own bed. She had a “thing” about her bed. You could change the sheets and make up the bed but after that don’t sit on it and don’t touch it. When it was bed time she headed for bed without complaint and after being tucked in, went right to sleep.

As we got into Pie Town, we spotted a diner on the north side of the road and pulled in. We thought we should have some pie in Pie Town. That and some coffee for Pat and I and some milk for the kids should fix us all up for the night. We made our way to the counter and seated ourselves on the stools. There was a cowboy sitting at the end of the counter and he noticed that Terri was fussing about something. He asked her what was wrong and she told him she didn’t want to sleep in the car. He told her that she would probably feel better if she could hear some music. He looked over at us and we nodded and he picked Terri up and took her over and sat her down on top of the juke box. He fished a nickel out of his pocket and put it in the slot. Then, he picked up Terri again and held her so she could see the buttons and explained to her how to push the button and select a song. Terri was intrigued by all of this and had quieted down. She pushed a button and in a few seconds, we could hear Bobby Bare singing “Detroit City”. Things are going great and we are all enjoying the music until Bobby gets to the chorus. Then, he sings out, loud and clear, “I wanna go home, I wanna go home!” Terri starts crying and yelling, “I wanna go home, too!” We were right back where we started. The cowboy had been thinking he had done something good but Terri’s song selection had wiped that out and now he was left with a red face. Pat and I had enjoyed the peace and quiet but that was over. We finally finished our pie and bathroom trips and got everyone back in the car and took off down the road.

The kids settled down and went to sleep and Pat and I relaxed and looked forward to an uneventful drive through New Mexico. Some hours later, we were a few miles from Vaughn and saw the most amazing sight. We were in an area of rolling hills and those hills were covered with jack rabbits! Everywhere we looked there were jackrabbits and their eyes were reflecting the headlights of the car. Mostly, they were setting in pairs so it must have been some kind of a mating thing. There were hundreds or maybe thousands of them. There wasn’t any traffic at that time of night so I slowed down and Pat tried to wake the kids. I don’t know if any of them got fully awake or if they remember seeing the jack rabbits. It was something that Pat and I will never forget.

Dave Thomas
December 3, 2014

 

Some Help With The Mail

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I’m always curious about the intellect and reasoning powers of animals and am sometimes amazed at what I see. Sometimes the actions are subtle and you have to watch closely and other times a response will be purely blatant. Our son, Doug, was given a small, white, rabbit for Easter one year. This rabbit lived in a shelter and pen on our patio. We let him run around the house and yard and he was quite at home no matter where he was. He was easily house-broken so that was no problem. He had grown into a full-sized rabbit at the time I am recalling for you now.

Pat and the kids were out and I was home alone with the rabbit. I brought him in the house and petted him and then turned him loose. I turned on the TV and settled into my favorite spot on the floor, leaning back against the coffee table. I was doing some preliminary thinking about a home project and needed information about parts and tools. I had a Popular Mechanics and a Mechanics Illustrated and was going through the classified ads in the back of them. I had a notebook and a box of No. 10 envelopes and a pen. Whenever I found an ad that looked promising I would write a request for a catalog and slip it into an envelope.

As I said, I was sitting on the floor and had opened the lid on the box of envelopes and placed the box within reach. There were probably 25 or 30 envelopes left in the box. The rabbit has been wandering around the house, looking for someone to play with and had no luck so he got bored. Wanting to be petted or messed with, he nudged my hand with his nose. Well, I’m trying to keep up with a TV program and get some catalogs ordered so I just scratch his ears and push him away. He tries a few more times to get some attention with no luck. His little mind gets busy and I’m not sure whether he decides to punish me or get my attention. He reaches into that envelope box with those big buck teeth and lifts out a No. 10 envelope and places it on the carpet next to my leg. He sits back and looks at me to see what I’m going to do. I’ve been watching him out of the corner of my eye because I figure that if I make eye contact I’ll have to acknowledge him. Not getting any response from me he goes into the box again, gets another envelope and places it on top of the first one. Again, he sits back on his haunches and watches for a reaction from me. Two can play at this game so I just keep ignoring him.

Does he quit? No, he’s relentless! He keeps pulling the envelopes out one at a time without stopping except to see what my reaction might be. The pile of envelopes is getting higher and I finally can’t keep from laughing. He wins! I pick him up and hug him and the catalog requests are over for the night. I just sat there on the floor and held him and petted him while I watched TV.

Dave Thomas
August 15, 2014

Grandpa At The Movies

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Grandpa- At the Movies

Sunday afternoons were generally quiet in Augusta, Kansas, our small town of 5,000 people. The skating rink would be open and the Augusta Movie Theater would show a matinee’. Only the best movies were shown on Sunday. It might be a musical or a drama or a big-time western with big box-office stars performing. People usually started lining up at 2:00 P.M., the ticket booth would open at 2:15 and the movie would start at 2:30. If it was a good movie, the line might be 1/2 block long or longer. Sundays were family time so the whole family would be in line. There was always a lot of visiting as the line always contained people that you hadn’t seen for a week or two.

Grandpa, A.A. Thomas, didn’t go to the movies but he liked to be up there on Sunday afternoon to catch up on his visiting. In a town that size you knew everyone so it was easy to feel at home wherever you went. Grandpa loved to talk and joke so he was really in his element when in front of the movie house. He teased all the kids, flirted with all the women (even if their husbands were standing right there) and joked with all the men or started an argument just to liven things up.

One balmy Sunday, Grandpa had started an argument and he and a couple of men were getting pretty loud. About this time, a rookie cop came strolling up on foot patrol. The kid had been hired from out-of-town so he didn’t know anybody and no one knew him. You could see how green he was and that he probably just learned to wipe his chin and tie his shoes last week. He didn’t know that Grandpa and the other guys were just blowing and having a good time so he thought he should put a stop to it. Since Grandpa is the loudest of the bunch, the cop gets up in his face and tells him to quiet down. Grandpa pretty much ignores him and keeps arguing and that makes the cop mad. He starts talking tougher and reaches out to grab Grandpa’s arm. That’s when it got serious…Grandpa hauled off and decks this kid with one punch.  All the men around started scrambling and some grabbed Grandpa and some grabbed the cop. They escorted them both around the corner to the Police Station and called the Justice of the Peace at home. The J.P. came down to the Station and did some preaching to both of them. He told Grandpa that an 80 year old man ought to know better than to hit a policeman. Then he told the rookie cop to never challenge one of these old guys unless you are ready to go to war. The J.P. then sent Grandpa home and told the cop to go back to work.

Three different people told this story to my Mom the next day so I think it’s pretty accurate.

Dave Thomas
April 25, 2013

Frank

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Another Story: Frank

 In our town of 5,000 we had a police chief, 3 or 4 police officers, and 1 police car. We knew all the cops by their first names because that’s the way it was in a small town. When the cops were driving down the street, they would always smile and wave. Again, that’s the way it is in a small town. One of the cops was a young man named Frank Bennington. Frank was a tall, slim, good-looking guy who always had a smile and a good word for grade school kids like us. The thing was, though, that Frank had an edge about him and you knew he wasn’t anyone you would want to mess with.

I knew Frank when I was in grade school and then he was missing from the local scene for a few years. I guess about the time I’m 16 or 17, Frank is back in town and he is Chief of Police. He looks a little harder, tougher but still a nice man.

One evening, I walked down town and messed around and about 9 o’clock was walking back home. I got to the corner of 6th Street and State and looked to the west and saw a bunch of people standing around by the Scholfield-Hurst Ford dealership. This was kind of strange so I headed down there to see what was going on. There were a bunch of cars parked so that their headlights focused on the door to the Parts Department and people all around that were looking the same way. Out in the middle of the driveway was Chief of Police, Frank Bennington. Frank was wearing his side-arm like he always did but in his right hand he was carrying a shotgun…a 12 gauge pump. I asked one of the crowd what was going on. He said that our local switchboard operator at the telephone company had gotten a signal, and when she answered, no one responded. She listened for a bit and determined that at least two men had broken into the Ford garage and had knocked a phone off the hook as they commenced to rob the place.

I should explain that our telephone company was pretty small. I think there were a local operator and a long-distance operator on duty at night. To show you the size of our telephone company, the phone number for the filling station that also served as the Bus Stop for Greyhound and Continental Trailways was “2”, the movie theater was “11”, the Chevrolet garage was ”66”, and my aunt was “413”. Yes, life was simple then.

Getting back to the story…the operator listened for a moment, determined what was happening, and called the cops. Frank was at the station as was one other cop. They hurried on over to the garage and as they stood there and checked it out, a crowd immediately began forming. I was told that Frank had already yelled out for the men inside to come out with their hands up. I stood there and watched for a while and I guess that Frank got tired of waiting. He raised that shotgun to his shoulder and yelled “Come on out with your hands up or I’ll come in shooting!” The next thing we heard was “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! We’re coming out!” The two guys came dashing out the door with their hands up and were obviously scared to death. It turned out that they were two out-of-town punks from Wichita who thought our little old hick town would be easy pickin’s. It probably would have been, but for an alert telephone operator and a no-nonsense cop.

Dave Thomas
December 5, 2013

Izzie-1: World Champ

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Iz 1

No. 1: World Champion

Or

“The Cat That Caught 14 Lizards and 1 Mouse While In Harness And Attached to A 5 Foot Leash!”

Since the year has come to a close I’m declaring my cat, Isabella, to be World Champion and Title Holder for the year 2011. The title is: “The Only Cat Who Caught 14 Lizards and 1 Mouse While Harnessed up and Attached to a 5 Foot Leash!”

I know that a little background information is necessary so I’ll provide it now. Two years ago, our daughter, Terri, got a call from a lady realtor she knows. The woman explained that she had sold a new condo to a man who was a cat lover. The problem was that he had four cats and the Homeowners Association only allowed three. The man picked his youngest cat, a five year old and placed her in a Pet Motel where she had been languishing for three months while he tried to find her a new home. This was getting expensive so he decided to give it one more try before he gave up and took the cat to the pound. He called his realtor and she called our daughter who then called us. Our cat had died two years before and we didn’t really want another but this story was so compelling we agreed to take Isabella.

The owner showed up the next day with Isabella in a brand new carrier with a soft blanket in the bottom, a sack of the expensive nutritional canned cat food, and Izzie’s medical records. He gave us the cat and the other items and you could see it was breaking his heart. He explained that he had found Izzie in a cardboard box in the parking lot of his former home and had taken her in and she had been an “inside” cat ever since. He cautioned us to never let her get out of the house because she wouldn’t understand traffic or coyotes or any of the other dangerous things to be found out there.

Soon after we got Izzie we saw that she really wanted to get outside and explore. We talked about it and decided we should get a harness and leash and try to train her to walk with us. We went to the pet store and lo and behold, discovered that cat harnesses are a common item. We bought an attractive red harness and leash set and headed for home to try it out. We thought that the best way to train Izzie would be to use the same routine each time so she could memorize the steps involved. I selected one of the reclining chairs that I would use every time and determined that I would always sit down and place Izzie on my legs and facing away from me while I attached the harness. It turned out that the surprise was on me! I placed Izzie in position on my legs and she stood there stiff-legged and quiet while I latched the two snaps and attached the swivel. When I completed the tasks, I said “okay” and she took that as her cue to jump down and head for the door. That first time, she seemed to know exactly what we were doing and she performed the drill perfectly and has done so ever since. What a cat!
 Iz 2

Our first walk was exciting. Izzie checked out every inch of our property with all senses on full alert. I’m sure that she memorized every sight, sound, and smell in the yard. You could see that her eyes and ears were constantly moving and that her nose twitched full time as she acquired information for her memory bank. You’ll see how she used this information as we get into her hunting stories.

Izzie’s first lizard catch came as quite a surprise to me. We were walking in the grass, along side the hedge. Izzie was in her customary position, about two steps in front of my right leg. She was looking at everything but I was just gazing at the blue sky and some puffy white clouds. All of a sudden…WHAMMO! The leash was almost jerked out of my hand as Izzie dived under a bush. She backed out from under the bush with a lizard in her mouth

Iz 3

which she dropped at my feet and then looked up at me with such a proud look on her face. I told her what a great hunter she was and continued to praise her as she stood guard over her prize. Every time the lizard moved she would put her paw on it and hold it until it quit wiggling. I finally picked Izzie up and carried her away before she killed the lizard.

Most of the lizard catches went the same way. If the lizard was smart it would play possum after she dropped it and she would get bored and turn away and the lizard could escape. I didn’t interfere until she had learned everything possible from the experience.

Izzie caught two lizards while Pat was walking her. The first catch was on the patio and she simply outran it. The second catch was much more impressive and gave more of an indication of how her mind was developing. Pat and Izzie were walking on the grass next to the hedge when all of a sudden Izzie lunged. Pat was able to see a lizard running under a bush and it was just out of reach. Izzie was still lunging and trying to get to the lizard but was at the end of the leash. The lizard ran to a bush and scampered up the trunk and into the lower branches. Pat and Izzie got closer as the lizard was climbing higher in the bush. As Izzie got to a spot under the lizard she tried to go for it but the branches were too dense and she couldn’t reach it. She settled back on her haunches, keeping her eyes on the lizard. All of a sudden, she jumped up and grabbed the lower branches with her two front paws and started shaking the branches vigorously. It wasn’t long until the lizard dropped to the ground and she grabbed it with her teeth. She solved her problem, grabbed her prize, and then proudly dropped it at Pat’s feet.

Sometimes Izzie wants to stay out in the back yard for a while so we stake her out and then check on her every 10 or 15 minutes. Again, her leash is only five feet long but that doesn’t deter a mighty hunter like her. She’ll lay there for 30 minutes without moving until some dumb lizard wanders into range and then, like a lightning strike, it’s all over. Once she’s done the deed, she makes that throaty “kill” sound like all cats make and we go get the lizard before she tries to eat it. I made the mistake of letting her eat one and she had a stomach ache for two days.

Okay, I’ve saved the best story ‘til last. We’ve got a sidewalk that runs clear across the back of the house and across the north side and is right up against the footing. From the sliding glass patio door around to that diagonal corner of the house it’s probably 90 or 100 feet. One fine morning, Izzie and I came through the patio door and stepped down on the patio. As her feet hit the ground, she froze for an instant and then took off down the sidewalk as fast as she could go with me struggling to keep up with her. The amount of power a little old cat can generate is astounding! I felt like she was dragging me all the way! We got to the end of the house and she slid around the corner with her claws scratching the concrete and immediately regained her speed. I’m trying to stay on my feet as we race to the other end and she doesn’t seem to notice that she is dragging me behind her. We get to the other end and she zips past the trash cans and sticks her nose up into the corner of the fence. She pulls back out of there and she’s got a lizard in her mouth! All I can say as I try to catch my breath is “what the heck?”   I still can’t believe it. That lizard was probably 100 feet away, around a corner, and climbing a wooden fence, and she knew exactly where it was! Amazing!

Iz 4

This concludes my justification of the superior ability of Isabella and I am proclaiming that she is “The Only Cat Who Caught 14 Lizards And 1 Mouse While Harnessed Up And Attached To A 5 Foot Leash!”

Dave Thomas
May 16, 2012

Cutting Horse

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Cutting Horse

I received a clipping about the Augusta City Lake drying up. It was the same way in 1955 …the north end of the lake had dried up and a good crop of tumbleweeds and other trash had grown up.

That spring, I and a couple of other guys had taken a truck down to Oklahoma and bought a load of horses for 50 bucks a head. In the spring, the Indians run the horses down out of the hills and sell them off and if you are careful you can pick out a few head that will  make decent riding horses and can train and sell them and make a few bucks. I bought 2 head and by the middle of summer had sold off one and was making good progress with the other. The one I had left was a little gray gelding that weighed about 900 lbs and looked more like a big dog. He was so quick on his feet you had to really be alert or he’d be going one way and you’d be going another. I was keeping him on a farm that was 2 sections over from the city lake and rode him over there pretty often. The dry lake bed was smooth and wasn’t full of gopher holes though like I said there was a fair amount of brush.

Bear with me because I’m finally getting to my story. One day we rode over to the lake and when we got out on that dry lake bed we jumped a jack rabbit. Well, that little old Smokey horse cut that rabbit off and went to working him just like it was a steer. That jack rabbit was quick but that horse was quicker and I had a hell of a time keeping my seat. We worked that rabbit until he was so frazzled he wouldn’t even move. That was one of the best afternoons I ever had on a horse.

Dave Thomas
November 2, 2011

 

 

Let The Sun Shine In

~ crittersandcats ~ Leave a comment

I’d like to tell you about an interesting beach house but first I need to describe the setting. Mission Bay, San Diego, and the parks surrounding it make up a fabulous playground for people of all ages. As late as the 1950’s, the area was mostly nothing but marshes. Now, it’s a beautiful 4,200 acres of water, beaches, green parks , and sidewalks wide enough to accommodate bikes, skates, and joggers. There are many beautiful ocean-front properties facing the Pacific but the bayside properties are equally elegant.

Several years ago, Pat and I rented the downstairs portion of a beautiful bayside home for a week. The kids and grand-kids were invited to come and go as often as they could.

The house was owned by a couple who lived in the upstairs part of the place while they made a very comfortable living renting out the first floor. The house was furnished in very good taste with quality furniture and accessories. However, it was the upstairs that was amazing. The eastern wall that faced the bay was a garage door! Imagine sitting there and drinking your morning coffee and punching a button and having the wall roll up! The morning sun comes streaming into your combination kitchen and family room while you enjoy that cup of coffee and watch the sail boats and rowers go by. Fantastic!

One morning, I was on the other side of the house and the door to the garage was open. Sitting there and looking proud and sassy was a 1956 Thunderbird just like this picture.

1956_Ford_Thunderbird

Dave Thomas
February 26, 2015