Blog # 365                                         March 7, 2024

 

This week I took Shakespeare, my three-legged feline, to Dr. Cat for his annual checkup, which I call a Cat Scan.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  How does your patient, doctor? (Macbeth).  I don’t like going to the doctor, but she said I was fine.  No CAT-aracts, no problems with my PURR-a-thyroid, no triple by-PUSS surgery.  I’m totally PURR-fect.  They gave me two shots and Pops took me home.  I threw up twice on the carpet and slept the rest of the day.  Purr.

 

Such a good boy!  People want to know why we named him Shakespeare.  I have a clever family and they came up with several possible names for a three-legged cat -- Teeter, Tipper, I-Lean, Tripod, IHOP – but his original name was Jake, and his pitiful little limp led someone to suggest Shakey Jake.  Carol immediately seized on that and came up with Shakespeare.  We are a literary family after all.  I realize that the main character in my favorite book was missing a leg and we should have named the cat Ahab, but Shakespeare has turned out to be the perfect name.  He’s Romeo-ing around all the time and behaves like a little ham-let.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well.  All of that was my attempt to make you smile during a very trying and frightening time.  What with the election and the wars and the crime and the weather --- well, I know you’re all as stressed out as a fat person’s pall bearer, and I hope Limerick Oyster can serve as a little oasis of cheer and humor.

 

Excuse me for using the words “fat person”.  That was insensitive and crass.  Maybe we should just call them easier to see.  It’s remarkable how many of them I see when I work at the Zoo!  You’d think some of these people were auditioning for a spot in the elephant exhibit.  You might suppose that everyone would respond to the problem of obesity in the same way, but that’s not necessarily true.  A Liberal responds by calling for new legislation requiring food producers to limit the calories in their products while simultaneously making sure that all retail establishments accommodate obese people under the Americans with Disabilities Act.  A Conservative responds by buying Baskin-Robbins stock. 

 

I talked about my brother last week.  You seem to like that kind of homey, personal stuff.  Let’s talk about my father today.  My dad lived to be 96, and was very mentally sharp up to the end.  At the age of 90 or so, he became blind and moved to an assisted living environment.  He memorized everybody’s phone number and bought a phone with huge pads for numbers, so he was comfortable calling me and his grandchildren.  I visited him often, and one time he told me he needed a favor.  It seems, when attempting to put the phone receiver back in its cradle, he mistakenly plopped it into his glass of vodka.  This was an old-style phone, not a cell phone.  He wanted me to buy him a new one.  I took it to Famous Barr (a department store that no longer exists) and said I wanted to buy a replacement.  The phone was white, but all they had was a black one.  When I brought the new one to my dad and plugged it in, we had this conversation:

 

Dad:  Is it the same one?

Me:   Yes.

Dad:  What color is it?

Me:   What difference does it make?  You can’t see it.

Dad:  But what color is it?  I want a white one.

 

You didn’t really think I was going to lie to my father, did you?  Especially since he was sure to ask the nurse as soon as I left.  I told him it was black.  He didn’t want it and insisted I take it back and get a white one.  No amount of cajoling could make him change his mind, so I took it back, found a white one at another store and brought the new one back.  And they call me stubborn.

 

I did lie to my dad once, but I’ll save that story for next week because I’m running out of space here, and we need to move on.  I haven’t done a limerick or a Word, and we’re running out of time.  All this folderol about fathers and cats and obesity – as silly as shoes and ships and sealing wax.

 

Weekly Word:  Cajole means to persuade by sustained coaxing or flattery.

 

When we were in Florida, I went to a grocery store for my morning Diet Coke, there being no nearby McDonald’s. This was Palm Beach County, after all, the home of Donald Trump and hanging chads, and too environmentally aware to tolerate something as bovine as McDonald’s.  The grocery store had an acceptable fountain Diet Coke, but there was a problem – the straw.  You know I am all for protecting the environment.  But this place had eschewed plastic straws in favor of paper ones.  I get it.  They’re bio-degradable.  But I was hoping mine would wait to bio-degrade until after I had finished drinking.  About half way through, the end of the straw turned into mush.  Horrible idea! 

 

The end of the straw started shrinking

It got mushy and started me thinking

Although it was made

To bio-degrade

It should wait until I finished drinking.

 

Don’t forget to change your clocks on Saturday night.  Is it Spring ahead or March forward or fall down sideways?  I can never remember.  I’ll just wait until the Academy Awards starts on Sunday, and then I’ll know what time it is -- time to go somewhere else.  But make sure you do it right.  I wouldn’t want you to be late for next week’s blog.  Or is it early?

 

A friend and loyal reader told me my blog was like a weekly dose of medicine for him.  I liked that, but if the Oyster is going to be your medicine, I’m obligated to give you the following warnings:  Do not read Limerick Oyster if you are allergic to giggles.  Reading may cause drowsiness.  But before you nod off, stay well and count your blessings.  One of my blessings is that I know you’ll all come back for another dose of my medicine next week.  Don’t let me down.

 

Michael                          Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com