Lafayette Forever

  

You stole my heart the moment I first saw your picture

I fostered you virtually in hopes of finding you a good home

Soon I knew I wanted your home to be with me.

You are forever my friend

I will always love you

Never forget you.

The scar on my broken heart

Bears the shape of you

Always.

A few people have told me my tattoo is cool.

I'd rather not have a reason to have it.

notes

Here's today's prompt.

https://experiencewriting.com/2023/10/30/oct-30-prompts-cats-are-so-familiar/

I wrote an ode to my little buddy Lafayette.

The first two photos are the property of Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl. I ask that you do not use the first photo. I am okay with you using the second photo as long as you do so in a respectful fashion. I really can't imagine what reason anyone would have for wanting to use it.

Any comments about how much you hate tattoos or think that women shouldn't have tattoos or about my body are immature, inappropriate, and will not be published. If you don't like tattoos, don't get one. If you don't like how my body looks, find something else to look at. Simple.

I was forty-nine years old when I got my first tattoo. I wasn't drunk or high and it wasn't an off-the-cuff decision. It was something I'd been considering for about a month. I have seven tattoos and all of them honor someone or something important to me. I would get more if I could afford to. 

Lafayette was very special to me. He had multiple system failure, and I had to make the horrible decision to have him put to sleep on his sixth birthday. Any time I write about him, I cry. He was a funny little guy who made me laugh, like when he photobombed the shoot I was doing with the dolls sent to me by a friend from back in my early blogging days.

I still have Lafayette's little half-sister or cousin Tara. I adopted them together. They both came from the same feral colony. They were both very inbred and had health problems and subtle physical abnormalities. Lafayette was small for a male cat and had remarkably long toes. 

Tara is unusually long. She has a condition called mast cell disease, which is more common in dogs than cats. She had to have a huge tumor removed from her brow near one eye. She looked like a juvenile Skeksis following the surgery. Fortunately, the tumor hasn't returned.

After the surgery

If you have multiple blogs, there will come a day when you create a post on the wrong blog. I figured it out when I was doing the tags and OctPoWriMo didn't come up. Fortunately, it was easy enough to move the post to the correct blog.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Instead of the usual Owl pic, I wanted to share this image of my two favorite Lafayettes, created for me by my friend Kamidiox. You can also find her on DeviantArt or check her out here.

https://kamidiox.carrd.co/

Nelsan Ellis was a great guy gone too soon. He wasn't Lafayette Reynolds, but nobody else could have brought Lafayette to life the way Nelsan did. Much love and respect to this talented actor always.

Carpe Diem Field of Flowers: Pretty Posies, Putrid Puns, Silly Scots, and Good Stuff from Grover

Image Source

I canna say I

have seen a Canna Lily

I hope that I can

~Cie~

I'm sorry! Don't PUNish me too severely!

This post inspired by several things silly and/or Scottish in origin.

All three of these bad good boys were born in Scotland. 

Sadly, two out of three of them are no longer of this world.

It wouldnae be Star Trek without Scotty

This really cute fan art was found on Tumblr. I havenae been able to discover the creator. It wasnae me. I can hardly draw stick figures.

Admit it, Lads and Lassies.

School would have been better if Willie had been your school's groundskeeper.

This post made Grover groan

Visit the Artist

"Y'all will never make me admit that I found anything funny about this punny poetry!"

Visit the Artist

And Cactus Clem chuckle.

"Grover, ole pal, y'all can't pull the wool over my eyes. I heard ya chucklin' behind yer hat!"

Follow the adventures of Grover, Cactus Clem and the Punny Old Prune (Cie) plus get updates on the Grover Hotel renovations at the Good Stuff from Grover blog. Y'all might even find yerself something useful in Grover's General Store!

Wordless Wednesday Fail: Spiraling Into the Past

Spiraling Into the Past, Version 6

Spiraling Into the Past, Version 7

Photoshop images by The Real Cie

Back in the present, Pepper listened to the strains she'd discovered all those years ago. Then they had been the sounds of freedom and rebellion. Now, although her love for these songs had never died, there was something quaint about them, accompanied by a heart-wrenching sense of loss.

From "Fetch," Team Netherworld's WIP Novel

Dedicated with love to Malcolm Young for everything he made possible

*********************************************

Hello, and welcome to another Wordless Wednesday Fail, where the Real Cie shows images (often things she's done in Photoshop) and refuses to comply with the "wordless" part of "Wordless Wednesday".

Youth is wasted on the young. When I bought this album, I was young (fourteen) and super stupid. I think I really believed these guys would be like they are on this album forever. Older than me but still young enough. Sassy, impish, but nowhere in the vicinity of actual evil, like some morons made them out to be. Actually, in spite of the provocative humor, they were really sweet people who just wanted to make the world a more enjoyable place. I loved that about them.

I never thought that less than a year after I bought this album that Bon Scott would be dead.

I could not have imagined that Phil Rudd would end up a meth addict, estranged from the band and in trouble with the law for making foolish, drug-fueled threats towards a person with whom he had a disagreement.

I certainly never thought that Malcolm Young, who created the band, would have his cognitive abilities destroyed to the point where he could no longer remember the works he created, where he didn't know the brother to whom he was so very close, and where he didn't even know who he himself was.

Y'all can't tell me that this plane of existence isn't Purgatory. I'm convinced that it is. Those of us who are stuck here are just trying to get by. Some of us, like these guys, try to make it a little nicer for their fellow inmates.

Maybe if we all learn the lesson that we need to treat each other a little more kindly, we can get out of here.

~Cie~