©2003 May not be reproduced in any form without written permission of the author. This includes publishing at other websites.
Theodore Roosevelt Bear, October 23, 1995 to February 13, 2003
THEODORE ROOSEVELT BEAR
October 23, 1995 to February 13, 2003.
All my life I've had cats. I like to say I was raised by a Persian named Ruffles. Of all the cats I've had, Bear was unique. I knew it the moment I met him. He was for sale at the Houston Cat Show, and his owner had passed on several potential owners because she thought he was special. He was. Photos on the website will show his beauty, and some of his personality come through. But he was something else. He was gregarious and loving, demanding snuggle on his own terms, even if it meant 4 a.m. If you held him in your lap on his back and lean over, and he would lick your nose until the skin came off or you pulled away. The Will Rogers of cats, he never met anyone he didn't like.
Adapting well to his role as Alpha Cat at Castle Rich, he wouldn't beg for cat treats. He would allow you to give him some if you were giving them to the lesser cats who were begging. But you would have to come over where he was. Later he might sit beside you at your chair and allow you to feed him some more, but he kept his dignity.
He was well behaved and fastidious. We could leave him in the house without worry of damage.
The animals were locked into the utility room while the maid was there. When we came home and released them, he would lead the pack out, then stop and turn and look up to see why you weren't picking him up and petting him.
He purred loudly and easily, especially if you held him in your lap and petted his tummy properly. If you did it improperly, he would let you know it immediately.
He had few faults.
I had hoped he would have a long and happy life, but that was not to be. He died after a short illness because of a congenital heart condition, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that gave no symptoms before his death. Basically he died because his heart was too big.
A few days before he died I used up a partially completed roll of film on the animals. He was happy, haughty, and vibrant. I'll remember him that way.
Some previous articles on him are reprinted at the end of this issue.
RETURN OF THE DIESEL
MONTVALE, NJ-Mercedes-Benz, the company that invented the diesel car, has announced that it will again offer a diesel-powered car in the U.S. market. Starting in 2004, the company will market an E320 CDI, a more fuel-efficient diesel version of its highly successful E-Class sedan. The new diesel engine is quiet and impressively fuel-efficient, while achieving lower exhaust emissions than previous diesels.
Electronic Fuel Injection's the Key
The turbocharged six-cylinder powerplant will feature electronic fuel injection - a term denoting the fuel line loop supplying constant fuel pressure to each of the six solenoid injector valves.
The leap to electronic fuel injection means that the E320CDI engine can be even cleaner, quieter, and more powerful than conventional mechanically-injected diesel powerplants. Diesel engines inherently produce 30 percent lower carbon dioxide emissions and significantly lower carbon monoxide than gasoline engines, but historically, diesels have produced more oxides of nitrogen and soot or particulates. However, with precise electronic control of fuel delivery, hand in hand with an oxidation catalyst, the E320 CDI can pass current 45-state emissions standards. When low-sulfur diesel fuel becomes available in the U.S. around 2007, Mercedes-Benz engineers are optimistic that the CDI diesel can meet emissions standards in all 50 states.
The Global Leader in Diesel Cars
Mercedes-Benz debuted the world's first diesel passenger car - the 260D - in 1936, and on a global basis, diesel engines power about 40 percent of Mercedes cars around the world. In the early 1980s, over 75 percent of the Mercedes-Benz cars sold in the U.S. market were diesel-powered, but as consumer tastes evolved, diesel cars became a smaller and smaller part of the company's product mix.
Mercedes-Benz last offered a diesel car - the E300 Turbodiesel - in 1999. The company planned a one-year hiatus for the diesel until its new CDI engine was ready, but in the meantime, emission standards were proposed which further delayed the new U.S. Diesel.
Over 30 Percent Better Fuel Mileage
Diesel engines consistently provide over 30 percent better fuel efficiency than comparable gasoline engines, which means that a full-size luxury sedan such as the Mercedes-Benz E-Class can get well over 30 miles per gallon on the highway and cruise nearly 700 miles before refueling. Relying purely on the heat of highly compressed intake air to ignite the fuel, diesel engines operate without spark plugs or other ignition parts.
The latest generation of electronically-injected CDI diesel engines are likely to change consumers' dated perceptions about diesel engines. With surprisingly good performance, low exhaust emissions and great fuel economy, electronic control of diesel fuel injection even makes it possible to soften the power pulses and help make the diesel nearly as quiet as a gasoline engine, even during idle conditions.
CDI diesel technology will help expand the company's already broad product portfolio in the US market. In addition, Mercedes-Benz' pioneering role in alternative powertrain development means that its modern diesel engine is likely to play a key role in the company's future products that could include advanced piston engines, hybrids, and fuel cells.
(Having been fooled before by Automotive News, I waited until I had the MBUSA press-release in hand. Their failure to post it on the media website delayed it by one issue of the newsletter. Note that the cars will be sold in 45 states. Apparently not all of the east coast is going to the draconian anti-diesel regulations that come into effect in California next year. Fortunately, Texas is one of the 45. I have orders already. If you want one, put in an order.)
EMERGENCY BRAKING REVISITED
Back when dinosaurs ruled the earth I took Driver's Ed. We were taught to "Modulate" the pedal, not to lock up the brakes. When I learned performance driving "Threshold" braking was emphasized, getting the brakes to the verge of lockup to maximize braking and minimize braking distances. Great theory. Expert drivers using threshold braking techniques could out brake early antilock brakes. Of course, these experts were either professional instructors or racing drivers who drove 8 hours a day at speed.
The problem was the poor schnook who did emergency braking when, and only when it was necessary for collision avoidance. He would do one of 2 things:
1. Lock up the brakes and try to steer locked wheels, thus sliding straight into the problem.
2. Use up valuable space "modulating" the brakes, thus lengthening stopping distances and hitting things he could have avoided.
In both cases the result was an unnecessary collision.
Now we have the world's greatest antilock brakes and Brake Assist®. They work much better. Optimizing them is much simpler. In fact, the normal reflex: STAND ON THE BRAKES WITH BOTH FEET AND ONE ARM! -happens to be the right one. (Exaggeration for effect). But if you fail to STAND ON THE BRAKES, the car will do it for you through Brake Assist®,
The other thing to do is to steer around the problem-VERY GENTLY.
You've just put most of the vehicle's weight on the front tires. They've just become VERY effective. If you jerk the wheel-because that's what you had to do when you were locking the brakes up, and that didn't work-the car will RESPOND, and you will shoot off the road and have the classic one-car accident with no apparent cause. That's because you missed the cause, but you hit the parked earthmover.
So steer gently, trying to turn the car half as much as you think. You'll be surprised how responsive the steering is when the car is under maximum braking.
If you fail to hit the brakes hard enough, fast enough, on a newish Mercedes, the Brake Assist® will give you maximum ABS. Let it. When you realize you're not going to hit the problem ahead, now it's time to check the rear view mirror. Is there a car/truck there? Is it growing? If so, let up completely off the brake pedal for a split second and reapply the brakes. Now you have normal brake control. Extend your stopping distance to the distance available.
Other cars don't have Brake Assist® and 4-channel ABS
with optimized brake proportioning, so keep that in mind when being tailgated.
GOOD ADVICE
(E-mail wisdom)
The next time you order checks have only your initials (instead of first name) and last name put on them. If someone takes your checkbook they will not know if you sign your checks with just your initials or your first name but your bank will know how you sign your checks.
Put your work phone # on your checks instead of your home phone. If you have a P.O. Box use that instead of your home address, if you do not have a P.O. Box use your work address. Never have your SS# printed on your checks - you can add it if it is necessary. But if you have it printed, anyone can get it.
Place the contents of your wallet on a photocopy machine, do both sides of each license, credit card, etc. You will know what you had in your wallet and all of the account numbers and phone numbers to call and cancel. Keep the photocopy in a safe place. NEVER carry your SS card in your wallet.
A corporate attorney sent the following out to the employees in his company:
We've all heard horror stories about fraud that's committed on us in stealing a name, address, Social Security number, credit cards, etc. Unfortunately I, an attorney, have firsthand knowledge because my wallet was stolen last month. Within a week, the thief ordered an expensive monthly cell phone package, applied for a VISA credit card, had a credit line approved to buy a Gateway computer, received a PIN number from DMV to change my driving record information online, and more.
But here's some critical information to limit the damage in case this happens to you or someone you know:
We have been told we should cancel our credit cards immediately. But the key is having the toll free numbers and your card numbers handy so you know whom to call. Keep those where you can find them easily. File a police report immediately in the jurisdiction where it was stolen, this proves to credit providers you were diligent, and is a first step toward an investigation (if there ever is one).
But here's what is perhaps most important:
(I never even thought to do this) Call the three national credit reporting organizations immediately to place a fraud alert on your name and Social Security number. I had never heard of doing that until advised by a bank that called to tell me an application for credit was made over the Internet in my name. The alert means any company that checks your credit knows your information was stolen and they have to contact you by phone to authorize new credit.
By the time I was advised to do this, almost two weeks after the theft, all the damage had been done. There are records of all the credit checks initiated by the thief's purchases, none of which I knew about before placing the alert. Since then, no additional damage has been done, and the thief threw my wallet away this weekend (someone turned it in). It seems to have stopped them in their tracks.
The numbers are:
Equifax: 1-800-525-6285
Experian (formerly TRW): 1-888-397-3742
Trans Union: 1-800-680-7289
Social Security Administration (fraud line): 1-800-269-0271
(I haven't verified the phone #s, but the advice sounds
good, even if it came from the Internet. CRR)
MISC. RAVINGS
Out of Orifice
I'll be out of the orifice from about noon on the 20th through the 22nd of March. Additionally I'll be out April 9-12. The usual request to buy something from me on another day applies.
BMW
I saw a BMW being driven intelligently today. I thought that was newsworthy.
The "Remember the Alamo" Effect
February 12, 2003-I was watching Fox News while Brian Kilmead visited troops at Camp New York in Kuwait. For a minute they focused in on a 120 mm tank barrel, and on the side was "American Airlines Flight 77." I stopped, stunned, and almost cried. Then I thought, 'there's a tank crew that'll have no trouble remembering why they're fighting.'
Americans fight better when they're pissed off. Jeff Cooper, who spent 30 months in the Pacific Theater, often reminds me how angry Americans were about Pearl Harbor. There was no doubt about national resolve. He wonders how we could fight in Vietnam without being angry (answer, once you got there you saw enough to make you angry.) It's obvious that our armed forces, especially the combat troops, the ones who are most likely to bleed for us, know exactly why they're there.
I've studied Texas history since I was a little boy. I know how thoroughly the Texians defeated Santa Anna's superior troops at San Jacinto after their epic assault to the cries of "Remember the Alamo!" and "Remember Goliad!"
I realize expecting the idiots in Hollyweird to remember New York City, and American Airlines Flight 77 and the Pentagon is asking too much of their drug-destroyed minds. But the people who count do, the people at the sharp end. Once the shooting starts you're fighting for your buddies around you, but until then, to stay focused, you have to remember why we're there.
FREE, FREE!
If you're a "snail mail" subscriber, send me your e-mail address, and FREE, FREE, I'll send you an e-mail notification when the latest newsletter is online. There's always more "stuff" on the online newsletter, photos, more articles, links, jokes.
The Importance of Pictures
There's a photo essay memorial of Bear online. I have hundreds of photos of him. He was very photogenic, so it was easy. Having the photos helps. Take photos of your loved ones, both pets and people. Someday photos and memories might be all you have left. They'll help. You can't have too many.
LIFE:
Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Favorite Line from the new "Monte Walsh" TV Movie
"You can't have no idea how little I care"
The Connection
Some of the Hollyweird types have a commercial running that's quite anti-American. In it Susan Sarandon, I believe, asks, "What has Saddam Hussein done to us?" She acts as if Hussein isn't connected to the September 11th maniacs. He is, of course. Anyone who doesn't think so probably needs to change drug suppliers. Jeff Cooper wrote, "When I was in school, there was no difficulty in establishing a link between the Stanford football team, the Stanford band, and the Stanford faculty. They were all "sons of the Stanford red." He adds, "When I was a lad, I assumed there was a connection between Admiral Nagumo and General Yamashita. They did not wear the same uniform, but they fought for the same divine emperor. There was a link."
Of course, the people who can't find a link probably don't know who General Yamashita or admiral Nagumo were, either, so educating them is probably hopeless.
But President Bush said it well. "You're either with us, or you're with the terrorists."
Personally, I'm sick and tired of Americans who avail themselves of the benefits of American citizenship yet side against America in her time of greatest need. We ARE in World War III. It's been going on for some time, but a lot of us didn't realize it until September 11th. Apparently some of us didn't then. I'm not inclined to take advice from such slow learners.
Boycotts
Last month I jokingly said, "Boycott French Fries!" because of the way the French, under Jacques Shh-Iraq, are treating us. I immediately got a letter from a client agreeing and saying he wouldn't buy a German car as long as their gumment opposes us. I can't argue except to compare it to boycotting Ben and Jerry's because our government does something you don't like. What a socialist Prime Minister says is no more the fault of a corporation than what Clinton did with Monica in the Oral Office is the fault of General Motors. But, somehow you know that the snooty Maitre'd who put you next to the kitchen door at La Tour D'Argent really does hate Americans.
This Month's Alleged Patton Quote:
"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me."
- General George S. Patton
I don't know if he really said that as it came in one of those E-mail missives we all get, but if he didn't, he should have.
Loose Objects
When you get in your car, look around inside. Imagine the car rolling down the side of an overpass with you strapped in your seat. What items would be the ones they remove from your skull at the emergency room or morgue? Put them in the trunk. Tie them down. Put small items in the glovebox, etc. If it's loose, it can kill you. If you have a lot of stuff in the back of your ML, get one of the safety nets from parts and install it. Keep that Halliburton suitcase in the back that weighs 40 lb. from hitting you in the back of the head at 40 mph.
Apologies
To friends and clients who attended our Valentine's party February 13th, I was in a fog over Bear's death earlier that day. I don't remember much about the party. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks to the Lauzons for babysitting me.
Score One for Powell
(From The Left Coast Report of Newsmax.com)
It's become almost routine for members of the American press to throw dumb or leading questions at members of the Bush administration.
Maybe that's one of the reasons why Secretary of State Colin Powell seemed so well prepared for the shifty question recently hurled at him by an Iraqi reporter.
According to the New York Post, one of Saddam's newshounds asked Powell, "Isn't it true that only 13% of young Americans can locate Iraq on a map?"
"That may be true," Powell countered. "You're probably right. But unfortunately for you, all 13% are Marines."
This Month's Alleged George Carlin Quote
My heroes are John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers, and whoever canceled Jerry Springer.
(Another e-mail missive. Great line, though, no matter who said it.)
This Month's Ann Coulter Quote
Human rights groups have responded to the capture of this major al-Qaida figure (Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, CRR) with the plea: DON'T HURT HIM! They are hysterical at the possibility that the government is torturing Mohammed for information. There are dark rumors that terrorists are being stripped, humiliated, strapped down and subjected to total sleep deprivation with lights and noise. Then it turned out the hapless victims of such brutal tactics weren't terrorists, but airline passengers since Sept. 11.
No one even knows where Mohammed is being held, much less how he is being treated. It's a tricky business interrogating terrorists. When questioning people who live in caves, government officials have to go pretty far just to deprive them of the comforts of home.
The Clock
I was reminded that Mercedes equipped with the Flexible Service System have an internal clock among the sensors that tell when the car is in need of its next service. The Redhead called and asked what it meant when the car showed a wrench, a clock, and 2.
"Well, it means you need to have it serviced in 2 days. What happened to 30, 29, 28, etc?"
"Oh, I never look at that thing. It just caught my attention this time." The Information Display could be giving her the winning lottery numbers, and she'd never know.
Anyway, when you're within 30 days of needing a service, when you start the car, it'll remind you for 5 seconds. But you have to look at it.
Warning
Those of you who hate cats should probably stop reading
at this point and wait for next month's newsletter.
BEAR STORIES
Aside from his beauty as a perfect specimen of Blue Persian Cat, Bear had a warm, loving personality and a mischievous heart. We kept the cat food elevated on countertops in the bathroom and kitchen. Otherwise our 8 lb. Miniature Pinscher would weigh 30 pounds, kill himself, and starve the cats. Bear, like the other cats, would try to con us into believing he couldn't jump up there. He would sit on the footstool at the bathroom counter and wait for one of us to pick him up and put him at the supper dish.
None of our pets are allowed outside unsupervised. Having gone through a number of cats and dogs as a child I learned the dangers of having pets who were allowed outside. I decided when I was grown-up to have pets who died of natural causes. I didn't want to lose them because the neighbors poisoned them, ran over them, or shot them with pellet guns, etc. And I didn't want them to just disappear one day without a trace.
When he was allowed into the back yard, he would walk around the fence looking for a way out. The fence was 6 ft. tall except between the house and the garage, where, for some reason, the builder put in a 4 ft. fence. He could jump it from a standing start.
Then the hunt would be on. He got out one night, and we didn't know if he was in the back yard or not. I, being blind in the dark, got a flashlight and searched the big back yard while The Redhead went out searching the neighborhood and calling for him. After some time she came back, walking up the driveway crying that she couldn't find him.
Bear was marching 5 steps behind her.
One day he got out, and The Redhead didn't know it. She was working in the kitchen and saw a blue streak go over the fence, and into the backyard.
"Gee, that looks like Bear. I didn't know there were any other grey cats around. Hmm, where is Bear?"
Bear was at the back door wanting in. He never told us what scared him so.
At 0400 he wanted attention. He got this by licking our hair until we awoke and petted him. He would purr loudly when we did.
When I went upstairs to the exercise room to exercise he would climb on the big weight machine and sit there watching me, encouraging me. When either of us went to the office he would climb into the bookcase and sit looking down at us. He slept over The Redhead, and when she watched TV he would nap near her, preferably over her head. When I read at the breakfast table he would jump up and stretch out over the newspaper, informing me I had better things to do than to read. If I left the table for a second he would eat my Cheerios. When I was done I would let him have the bowl of skim milk. When he was done with it, with all that long hair, he had a milk moustache and beard. I had to grab him and clean him off. We laughed about his drinking problem. "Still got that drinking problem, Bear?"
No box or paper bag was safe. When we addressed the newsletters we often had to stop because he was sitting in the box on the unaddressed newsletters. We politely waited for him to allow us to continue. Usually he sat in the lid of the box the newsletters came in. By the time I was ready to take them to work, we would have been able to coax him out.
I was flying out at a 7 something Southwest flight. That meant leaving about 5. So at 0430 I was putting stuff in the car. While manhandling some of the luggage Bear got out into the backyard jungle. It was dark. I'm blind in the dark. I could hear him meowing triumphantly, but I couldn't see him. I ran inside to get the Sure Fire flashlight. I swung it around, and his bright eyes glowed like diamonds. I went after him. He ran into the garden, The Redhead's Jungle. I'd go in one end, and he would run to the other. This went on for quite a while till he hid under the Sago Palm, with his tail sticking out. I grabbed him and brought him in. He licked my nose, thanking me for the fun play session. He never held a grudge when I caught him.
A few days later he was gone.
He was beautiful and healthy right to the end, but he left us too soon. I had planned on having him around to purr in my lap and lick my nose and greet me after a hard day for at least 7-10 more years. But we know what happens to the best laid plans.
I don't expect to ever find another cat like him.
BEAR ALERT
(From the February, 1996 Newsletter)
As I mentioned here previously, our senior surviving cat, Kahlua, a 14 year old Himalayan, has diabetes. She doesn't know she's sick, but she's on a terminal course. We've put her on a prescription diet, which she hates, but we aren't going to try to give her insulin. Titrating the dosage for a 5 pound cat is folly, and the usual result is a death due to insulin over or under dose. She's outlived friends cats who were given insulin. She's dropped down to 3 pounds now, just skin and bones, but with a pretty good coat considering. She still jumps on the cabinet, and she gets around as well as before. It's probably harder on us than her. As Debbie put it, "Its so hard to watch them die."
But when the January annual Cat Show rolled around we went with the intention of getting to know some breeders so we could get another cat when the time came. We weren't even sure we were going to do that. Emerald our 10 month old Shaded Silver Persian, doesn't need another cat. She would be perfectly happy to be queen of Schloss Rich.
And 99.9% of the cats we saw were just cats. But at one booth sat a small kitten, much younger than the usual 4 months or more kittens show up at shows (against the rules). It was a blue Persian, male, all fur and purr. We were talking to the people, and they asked if I would like to hold it. Sure. May I disinfect your hands? Sure. Then she handed me the kitten, and he lay on his back and purred in my lap, kneading the air. I was sunk. I looked at Princess Deborah, and she said, "Buy me some coffee, and we'll discuss it."
She couldn't drink the coffee fast enough to suit me. I've had cats for nearly all of my 50 years, and ones which will lie on their backs in your lap and purr and knead are very rare. The owner of this one had turned down one buyer already because they had 9 cats, and this one deserved more attention than that. She wanted to keep him herself, but her cats stay in cages, and he is definitely not a cage kitty. We were acceptable, and our money was good. So we took him home. He lay on his back on my lap the whole way and most of the afternoon. It turned out he was very tired. When he got over his tiredness he took over the place. He is now master of all he surveys. He is everywhere, always underfoot, a dangerous condition since my vision is so poor. And he wants to be held and petted 30 hours a day and most of the night. Emerald did not want him there, but she's accepted him, and they share kitten food dishes. Feeding time at the zoo is a real zoo. Kahlua must have prescription food. She hates it. The kittens and dog love it. So I have to feed her away from them. She wants kitten food, so we feed them away from her. The little blue kitten loves to play with dog food, so we feed the dog away from the cats. Getting away in the morning is a project. Kahlua has to be locked up in an upstairs bedroom with her food and kitty pan. Then I have to search the room for a stowaway. Then Browning has to be locked in the kitchen.
And there was the dilemma of his name. We had a lot of girl cat names. We hadn't had a boy cat since Ishmael died. Tom cats have a bladder scale problem which usually is no problem with females. Too many of my cats died of it over the years. But modern catfoods have changed that, so it's safe to have a male again. But we had no male cat names.
Princess Deborah came up with Bond, James Bond. That was high on the list, but he looks like a Teddy bear or an Ewok. Walking on the floor he looked like a furry armadillo. After trying all variations of Bear, we settled on Theodore Roosevelt Bear. The original Teddy Bear was named after Theodore Roosevelt, so I can honor one of my favorite presidents and acknowledge his resemblance to a bear in one name.
He still has his claws. The other cats don't. This means
he is definitely king of the house. He will, without warning, climb up your
leg and back and sit on your head. If you happen to be naked at the time
this can be disconcerting. He is armed and dangerous with little razor blades
on his paws, kept razor sharp by sharpening them on a sisal scratching post
and my La-Z-Boy. Eventually this will be cured when he gets the other operation
boy cats get. Till then we know we have the right to keep and arm bears.
BEAR'S SCHEDULE
Personal Schedule for Theodore Roosevelt Bear
(From the June 1996 Newsletter)
0530-Breakfast
0615-Try to cover Kahlua's food
0630-Nibble at Debbie's Breakfast
0655-Morning milk
0700-Nibble at Curt's Breakfast, sit on newspaper
0715-Sit on Curt's Chest, lick nose, purr
0730-Wash Browning
0745-Bath
0800-Gobble Kahlua's food until forcibly removed
0810-Morning treats
0815-Nap
1000-Nap
1100-Nap
1200-Nap
1300-Lunch
1315-Bath
1330-Nap
1800-Greet Debbie
1815-Lie in wait to pounce on Kahlua's food when door opened to her room.
1915-Greet Curt at door, try to get into garage, get afternoon treat
1930-Sit on Curt's chest, purr, lick nose
1945-Sit on table, try to eat Curt and Debbie's dinner. Bonus points for knocking over wine.
2000-Sit on Curt's chest, purr, lick nose, bath
2005-Keep Emerald from food on mantle
2100-Go upstairs, wash Browning, bath
2200-A) Go downstairs, wait for chair to be put up by cabinet, make a dash for Kahlua's food, or B) Hide in plain sight. Either way, free ride upstairs. Try to enlist Emerald in scheme so Curt has to carry both cats at once.
2300-Lights out-PARTY TIME!!
I have read that when you die all your cats and dogs who preceded you to Heaven will come running to greet you. I believe it's true, because, as The Redhead says, "if our pets can't go to Heaven, I don't want to go." I know I'll go to Heaven, because I've spent my time in hell. I know when I get there Bear will be leading the pack, swaggering like John Wayne cat, and demanding where I've been all these cat years. Then he'll lick my nose.
Curt Rich March 2003
THINGS THAT DIDN'T FIT IN THE SNAILMAIL VERSION:
LIVING WITH THE BEAR
(From the June, 1996 Newsletter)
As most middle aged men do, I began to snore some time ago. I noticed it because I would wake up and find Debbie downstairs trying to sleep. I told her to just wake me, but she kept going downstairs because she didn't want to wake me. Then, of course, I'd wake up and be unable to go back to sleep because she wasn't there. So I got medical treatment, and the snoring went away.
Our cat, Theodore Roosevelt Bear, sleeps on the headboard. He does this so he can occasionally knock things on the headboard down on our heads for entertainment and so he can, at 0300, punch the speaker button on the phone, getting us a nice dial tone at 90 decibels. This will cause us to wake up, and he can usually con us into feeding him then. After all, he's a growing cat, weighing about 9 pounds, and he's still a kitten.
One night I heard noises emanating from him that sounded like snoring. I reached up and scratched his tummy, causing him to move around enough to stop the snoring.
So I went back to sleep.
Then I awoke at 0400 with no Debbie, no Browning (the vicious, armed and dangerous miniature pinscher John Moses Browning). I couldn't go back to sleep. Eventually Debbie came up when the alarm went off at 0530.
"Was I snoring again?"
"No, Bear was."
BEAR AND THE ESCAPE
(From the August 1996 Newsletter)
Our 9 pound Blue Persian terror, Theodore Roosevelt Bear, has become adept at breaking his colleagues out of prison.
Because of their differing dietary requirements, the animals have to be separated during the day. Kahlua, the elderly cat with diabetes, gets the master bath. John Moses Browning, our armed and dangerous miniature pincher, gets the kitchen. (In the new house he'll get his own room.) We put up a child gate in the doorway of the kitchen. Emerald and Bear get the rest of the house.
As soon as I leave, Bear will climb over the door, trying
hard to knock it over so Browning can get out. Whenever he succeeds, we
find Browning in the living room, and the cat dishes empty. But I've been
making an effort to Bear-proof the gate of late. Failing that he'll try
to open the container of Pounce. Once we found an empty Pounce can on the
floor and a very full dog. Browning will eat Pounce, too. But then, Browning
will eat anything. Kahlua's food is in small cans, one day's supply, so
we can leave an open can out. First we were covering it with aluminium foil.
But then we'd get home and find Bear batting the aluminium foil around on
the floor, and the catfood can empty. So we got a plastic can cover. We
got home and found the plastic cover chewed up and the catfood can in Browning's
dog bed. We couldn't blame him. We know who the accomplice was.
VET EMERGENCY
(From the April, 1999 Newsletter)
The Redhead took two of the cats in for their 10,000 purr checkup one Saturday morning. The elder, Theodore Roosevelt Bear, was given his shots, rabies and feline leukemia. She brought them home, and an hour later Bear had difficulty breathing and was vomiting and drooling. Obviously he was having an allergic reaction to one of the shots. The Redhead called the vet and got a machine. They had closed for the day. She called the Animal Emergency Clinic, and they told her to bring him in right away. The Redhead was in Katy. The Animal Emergency Clinic is 6 or so miles away via the I-10 parking lot. If you're one of the people blown off the road by an ML430 going flank on I-10, well, it was in a good cause. Within minutes of arrival they had him on IVs. We were able to take him home later that night.
After that I would suggest you take your pets to the vet in the morning for their annual shots and leave them all day where they can be watched and given immediate treatment in case of a reaction.. Ours is going to administer an anti-inflammatory before next year's shots.
Bear and I had a discussion after he recovered. He figured
he had lost one of his 9 lives. As one cat who has lost several of mine,
I assured him only the last one counted. Within 24 hours he was up to purr.
THREE CATS AND A DOG
(From the November 2000 issue)
I haven't written about the cats much in a long time. There was a reason. His name is Merlin.
When I brought Merlin home over The Redhead's objections, I thought he was going to be another Bear. He was from the same breeder. Theodore Roosevelt Bear is the perfect cat. He is a big, long haired Persian with thick grey fur making a lion's mane around his wide face and copper colored eyes. He is seldom flustered and quite gregarious. Everyone loves Bear, and Bear loves everyone. He likes to remain just out of snuggle reach, but he can be picked up and put on his back and petted under certain circumstances, such as in the bathroom or at the dining table, but not seated in the living room because Merlin goes there. Merlin goes the other places, too, but, for some reason Bear doesn't want to lie on his back getting his tummy scratched in the living room.
But Merlin wasn't like Bear. He's a Persian but a small one, with quite different fur which needs frequent grooming. He's a white cat with blue eyes and a pink nose, very Peke-faced to the point he has a lot of respiratory problems.
But he has other problems, first noted when The Redhead threw him off the balcony. Actually he backed off the balcony trying to get away from her, but he claimed she threw him off. That was his excuse for a lot of his misdeeds in his youth.
He landed okay, and I thought everything was okay until the next morning at 0200 when Alien Kitty attached himself to my face, all 20 razor sharp claws embedded in my skin. I had to get The Redhead to get him loose. I believe he was the runt of the litter and had a difficult birth, giving him the kitty equivalent of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, because some of the time some of the synapses weren't firing correctly leading to Alien Kitty and other problems.
And I didn't know about the 3 cats rule. Like 3 on a match, one should avoid 3s in cats. 2 works. 1 works. 3 doesn't.
As he was growing up he had some more behavioral problems, and there were times I thought I would come home to find a dead cat and The Redhead on the run from the PETA hit squads. But the bottom line is he is now on a regimen of a human antianxiety medication called Buspar. I give him small doses twice a day. He seems to look forward to getting his pill and will purr and lie on his back for it. Thank goodness he needs it, because when I have to pill the other two I look like I've come in second in a knife fight. Alien Kitty doesn't come out very often now, and Merlin is a very sweet cat. He is the only one of the three who will sit on my chest or The Redhead's chest, and purr for up to 45 minutes at a time. He purrs when he eats. He purrs when he is picked up most times. He might need medication of one kind or another and frequent grooming, but he is purr-fect.
Emerald, the senior cat, is a shaded silver Persian with green eyes and black-rimmed pink nose. Her tongue is big and her jaw is small, so she usually has her tongue sticking out.
Merlin picks fights with her. She spends much of her time in her travel crate, which we keep in the living room for her sanctuary, but he has been known to jump in there and fight with her in the cat equivalent of a phone booth. She can hold her own when in the mood.
They're all addicted to Pounce cat treats, but not like Emerald is. She DEMANDS pounce when I get home at night and will stand on my chest tapping on my face with her left paw until I put down my reading and give it to her.
Bear usually doesn't come up for it but expects me to take it to him when I give it to the others.
John Moses Browning, the vicious, armed and dangerous 8 lb. Miniature Pincher also likes Pounce. But then he likes almost everything. He likes whatever we're nibbling on in the pool or hot tub but doesn't want to get wet after an unfortunate accident one cold night when he wound up in the decidedly cold tub. So he'll r-e-a-c-h out to grab cheese or chocolate out of our hands or off our plates.
At 12 he is aging well, having few problems and still being
pugnacious enough to let every dog on the street know who is top dog.
NON CAT LOVERS CAN LOOK AGAIN. NO MORE CAT ARTICLES FOR NOW:
In Defense of the Cowboy
By Andrew Bernstein
February 27, 2003
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Those who oppose war with Iraq, from foreign heads of state to homegrown antiwar protesters, employ a common expression of contempt for the American war effort. America, they sneer, is acting like a "cowboy."
A mock interview with Saddam Hussein conducted by a European intellectual is written to show, in one news report's summary, "what out-of-control cowboys the Americans are." A recent New York Times article explains that to some Europeans the "major problem is Bush the cowboy." U.S. Senator Chris Dodd of Connecticut agrees, stating that America must not "act like a unilateral cowboy."
These smears imply that the heyday of the cowboy in the Old West was a lawless period when trigger-happy gunmen shot it out with reckless abandon and brute force reigned.
But to most Americans, the cowboy is not a villain but a hero. What we honor about the cowboy of the Old West is his willingness to stand up to evil and to do it alone, if necessary. The cowboy is a symbol of the crucial virtues of courage and independence.
The original cowboys were hard-working ranchers and settlers who tamed a vast wilderness. In the process, they had to contend with violent outlaws as well as warlike Indian tribes. The honest men on the frontier did not wring their hands in fear, uncertainty and moral paralysis; they stood up to evil men and defeated them.
The Texas Rangers,a small band of lawmen who patrolled a vast frontier,best exemplified the cowboy code. Whether they fought American outlaws, Mexican bandits or marauding Comanches, they were generally outnumbered, sometimes by as much as fifty to one. It was said of them: "They were men who could not be stampeded." For example, when Ranger officer John B. Armstrong boarded a train in pursuit of the infamous murderer John Wesley Hardin, he was confronted by five desperadoes. Armstrong took them on single-handed, killing one and capturing Hardin. In describing their independence and courage, Ranger captain Bob Crowder said: "A Ranger is an officer who is able to handle any situation without definite instructions from his commanding officer or higher authority."
The real-life courage of such heroes has been properly memorialized and glorified in countless fictional works. The Lone Ranger television show, Jack Schaefer's classic novel, Shane, and dozens of John Wayne movies, among others, have captured the essence of the Western hero's character: his unshakeable moral confidence in the face of evil. It is this vision of the cowboy, not the European slander, that Americans find inspiring. That's why, when President Bush said of Osama bin Laden, "Wanted: Dead or Alive," most Americans cheered.
The only valid criticism of President Bush, in this context, is that he is not true enough to the heritage of the Lone Star State. When the Texas Rangers went after a bank robber or rustler, they didn't wait to ask the permission of his fellow gang members. Yet Bush is asking permission from a U.N. Security Council that includes Syria, one of the world's most active sponsors of terrorism.
Today the terrorists responsible for blowing up our cities are far more evil than the bandits and gunmen faced by the heroes of the Old West. To defeat them, we will require all the more the cowboy's virtues of independence and moral courage.
Even as our European critics use the "cowboy" image as a symbol of reckless irresponsibility, they implicitly reveal the real virtues they are attacking. European leaders assail Americans because our "language is far too blunt" and because we see the struggle between Western Civilization and Islamic fanaticism in "black-and-white certainties." They whine about our "Texas attitude" and whimper that "an American president who makes up his mind and then will accept no argument" is a greater danger than murderous dictators. In short, they object to America's willingness to face the facts, to make moral judgments, to act independently, and to battle evil with unflinching courage.
These European critics are worse than the timid shopkeeper in an old Hollywood Western. They don't merely want to avoid confronting evil, they seek to prevent anyone else from recognizing evil and standing up to it.
Texas Ranger captain Bill McDonald reputedly stated: "No man in the wrong can stand up against a fellow that is in the right and keeps on a-comin'." If America fully embraces this cowboy wisdom and courage, then the Islamic terrorists and the regimes that support them had better run for cover. They stand no chance in the resulting showdown.
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Andrew Bernstein, Ph.D. in philosophy, is a senior writer for the Ayn Rand Institute in Irvine, Calif. The Institute promotes Objectivism, the philosophy of Ayn Rand, author of Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. Send comments to reaction@aynrand.org
