Monthly Archives: January 2006

The death of Blue Goose Jr.

Blue Goose Jr. is dying, I’m afraid. He is my beloved computer of four years. Greg built him for me during my senior year of college, and he was the computer of my dreams. He had a fast CD burner and a pretty white and blue case that I chose. I named him after my first car, which had died the previous year. He stood by me through grad school, when I had to spend hours transcribing taped interviews onto him. He was dependable throughout the planning of the wedding, and he has seen me through two job searches.
Last week, Blue Goose Jr. developed health problems. He strained every time I tried to use the Internet. It was as though he was having an asthma attack. I heard him gasping for breath, and he moved very slowly. I don’t know where he caught the illness. I do know that Greg is not helping him. I keep asking Greg if Blue Goose Jr. is healthy yet, and he says, “Nope, I haven’t done anything with it.” Greg is a devotee of Linux software and Apple computers. I think he wants Blue Goose Jr. to die. The poor creature, he can’t help it that he is a Windows machine.
Please, Greg, it is a breach of the computer medic code of conduct to withhold your services. Blue Goose Jr. can still be saved. He’s counting on you!

The pebble

We called him November. He was the pebble in our pond. Without him, we wouldn’t have gotten Winston. He is what started this whole mess and left us with two pets in a death struggle for control of the leftovers. November came to us one cold day in the month of, you guessed it, November. He was no more than a kitten at the time. This is his story:

Sarah called me one Saturday afternoon just as I stepped out of the shower after Tae Kwon Do. She was frantic about this cat under her car that wouldn’t move and was causing her to be late. Sarah does not like to be late, ever. Nor does she enjoy running over cats. Hence, the dilemna that made me get dressed quickly and run over to coax the cat out. When I got there, he had his paws wrapped around the right front wheel and was rolling on his back. For a species known for being scared, he seemed to be the oddball fearless one.

I stuck my hand underneath and he tried to play with it. By quickly moving my hand back and forth I got him to come out and go clear of the car. Sarah got in and sped off. The cat, however, did not speed off. He followed me back to my house, and since he didn’t have any tags, I decided to bring him in. I gave him a dish of milk. He quickly lapped it up and then started running around. I played with him, or rather, he played with me for the next two hours until Sarah got home. At which time, I went to the grocery store and got some supplies. I took some pictures of him and made a sign on the computer which read:

Found: Cat. Small. Gray. Possibly kitten.

We put five of our somewhat ignorant posters (possibly? come on) around the neighborhood and then went back to my place to watch a movie. November curled up right between us during the movie and appeared to be watching the whole thing with us. It was extremely endearing.

That night I took him to my bedroom to sleep. But after he pounced on my feet, digging his claws into my bare flesh, for the fifth time, I banished him to another room. There was a lot of crashing and knocking coming from there most of the night, but it in the morning nothing was broken.

His owners came the very next day. One day was all we had with him, but it raised a longing that needed to be quenched. We wanted to have a creature like November that would play with us, curl up on our laps, take an interest in what we liked, and generally make our lives better. Two months later Sarah came home with Winston.

Winston is not like November.

You might need a haircut if …

Mama accidentally drops a piece of cauliflower while making dinner (a fairly sizable piece). You can smell it, but you can’t find it anywhere on the floor. Why? Because it has become nestled in your unruly coat.