Cats, Rats, and Bats

Sorry, no pics to share ‘cos the video is grainy and black and white, but these were my three visitors last night at Casa de Enchanted Seashells.

In that order. The first video shows a cat sitting on the steps, looks to be dark gray and I’ve seen him before. The next is of a very large rat running down the steps, and the third one is a bat flying directly across the camera lens.

It sounds like it could be the start of a joke…”A cat, a rat, and a bat walked into a bar…” (Although I have no idea what kind of a punchline to write. Maybe Mrs. Maisel or Suzie could help.)

Or a children’s book, “The Tall Tale (Tail) of the Cat, the Rat, and the Bat”,

Or as Theo would say, “Grandma, that rhymes!”

Since I don’t have any decent pics of last night’s guests, here’s our beloved Bandit who ruled us all for thirteen years before she died of chronic renal failure.

The bat is from one of my favorite books, Stellaluna, by (my friend) Janell Cannon.

Image result for stellaluna

And the rat, well, this gif says it all…

(There were no coyotes this time, but I’m happy to report that I’ve been seeing TWO beautiful creatures in the garden, which is awesome as coyotes mate for life. I would be even happier if one day they brought some little ones to visit. It would be a dream come true. I could be their grandma, too!)


Harming an Animal…No Big Deal?

“Bang bang.”

During a late afternoon walk around the neighborhood, I passed by a house where three or four children (in the eight to ten-year age range) were playing in their front yard.

Maybe at this point I should highlight the fact that I live in a SoCal beach town; solid middle-class, lots of healthy living, outdoor activities, and for the past thirty-plus years, it’s been relatively crime-free.

I’m still troubled by what I witnessed.

I wasn’t paying too much attention to the children until I heard one of the boys say, “The cat, do the cat!” and I saw a black and white cat running to hide in a stand of low growing bushes near the sidewalk.

I heard a popping sound at the same exact time I saw another little shit boy with a plastic gun-type thing pointing it at the cat. Whatever little plastic thingy that was shot out of the gun actually hit the cat, who yelped and ran in a different direction.

What made this abuse even more egregious to me was that the little shits  boys LAUGHED.

Harming an animal on purpose was a source of amusement.

WTF is wrong with people?

Never one to ignore bad behavior or shy away from standing up for animal rights, I turned to the two laughing and gawking little shits boys (the girls had run off at this point) and stated, “You just shot at the cat. I saw you.”

Pretend you are saying those words with the scariest, meanest tone in your voice that you could possibly conjure up. Add a frown, squint your eyes, and you come up with a fair approximation of ME at that moment. I wasn’t referred to as “Mommy Monster” for nothing…

One of the boys ( the blame shifter) quickly pointed to the other boy and said, “I didn’t do it, he did”as he showed us all HIS true colors. Then he too ran away before I followed HIM home because he’s the one who set up his friend to shoot at the poor kitty.

I said to the future sociopath, “Is that your cat?” He nodded. “Do you live here?” He nodded.

“Go in the house RIGHT NOW and come back with your mother or father.”

“Harming an animal is NOT acceptable. What you did was NOT OK.”

The little future Jeffrey Dahmer went in the house and a few minutes later a man reluctantly opened the door a crack and peered out.

I introduced myself and told him what I witnessed. I explained to him that I loved animals, I’m an animal activist, and hoped he would appreciate the serious nature of what his son had done. He said he would discipline his child and let him know what he did was wrong. I explained to him that in my opinion, he should take away the gun because it’s obvious his son didn’t have respect for animals and should not be allowed to hurt another one.

That’s when it got ugly, guys.

The big shit  dad told me that he didn’t need my help raising his children, and I responded by saying that it’s clear to me that he wasn’t doing a very good job if his son thought it was funny to hurt a cat.  He then informed me in a snotty tone not to raise my voice (I was not raising my voice at all, but that’s something stupid people say to shift the conversation away from the actual content) AND he would raise his children HIS way and I should raise mine MY way and GET OFF HIS PROPERTY.

Since I NEVER miss an opportunity to not-so-humblebrag about my Angel Boy, I pointed to my t-shirt which said “Somebody at Yale LOVES You” as I proudly proclaimed, “I DID my good job, that’s why my son has a Ph.D. from Yale”, and as I sauntered down his driveway, I turned to him and said I might call the police because animal abuse by children could be a red flag sign of future sociopathic crime. He got in the last word by yelling, “Go ahead and call the police!”

I’m drinking a glass of wine now, wondering if I actually should call the po-po to reinforce the concept that abuse of any animal for any reason is horrible behavior and should not be tolerated. There is a very real correlation between children who harm animals and those who commit more serious crimes later in life.

What do you think I should do? And how was YOUR Monday?

This distressing incident made me think of my darling Bandit. I miss her every day.*Sniff*
How could anyone hurt an innocent creature?


Nothing Much…My Boring Albeit Enchanted Life

Remember in the old days when blogging was so easy, simply recording the minutiae of our daily lives —  maybe with a pithy comment or brilliant insight tossed in for good measure?

The good old days….

I’m going old skool today ‘cos I don’t feel like being witty.

Got woken up yet again by our asshole neighbor at 4:57 a.m. as he drove off with a racing muffler. Don’t even get me started on that. We’ve had to endure this hell for a year.

Used my asthma inhaler that looks like a bong,

Took Levoxyl ‘cos I’m slightly hypothyroid. I know most people think I’m HYPER ‘cos I’m always running around, but I’m not.

Ground beans for delicious French roast coffee. No Starbucks for me!

Sometime in October, not exactly sure of the date, I broke the third toe on my right foot. That’s not such a big deal for me since I break my toes like toothpicks, but this one hasn’t healed properly even though I buddy-taped it immediately. It’s got an ugly bump on it, still red and kinda hurts, which means I need to see a doc.

The dumb part is that I thought I’d straighten it out myself and pulled and pushed on it last night before bed — and now it hurts more than ever.

Not a good idea; don’t do it!

BRB…having a second cup of java goodness.

I’m back!

I’m going to a Body Pump class at the gym.

After that, I need a few extra things at the grocery store…tomatoes, bell peppers, avocados. I forgot them yesterday ‘cos I saw a friend at the store and it threw me off my game. Got distracted.

Oh, and Rumpelmintz. It’s a holiday tradition with me and my tugboat man. The first time he ever said “I love you” was on Christmas 1991. It involved peppermint schnapps.(Look for a post about that momentous and life changing occasion.)

Phone is ringing. Hold on…It was my friend who called to make sure I was going to the gym this morning so I could save her a spot.

The remainder of the day involves house cleaning, baking, and gardening — the usual stuff.

Oh, and wine. There will be wine.

I need to take something back to the Nordstrom Outlet (a bathrobe) but I’m not sure the Friday before Christmas is the best time to stand in line for that sort of thing. On the other hand, SHOPPING!

Tracking a pair of earrings I bought online that are due to be delivered today. Fingers crossed that I’ll love them or back they go, too. Three carat morganite studs. I hope they are pink and sparkly!

Angel Boy/DIL will be here for a couple of days, my tugboat man will be here on Tuesday.

No insights, no witty repartee, no review of product, and not a sponsored post.

Simply me, Princess Rosebud, sharing the boring details of my life.


Thank you for reading!

Please enjoy a favorite pic of my darling daughter cat, Bandit, before she died of chronic renal failure at the age of thirteen. She had the most kissable mouth EVER.Bandit in a box




Cats and Shoes, Cats IN Shoes

My research has concluded that there’s no better reason for the invention of the internet than cats and shoes.

Sparkly pearl encrusted shoes. Heaven.

Pearl shoes

The perfect black patent leather heel.  Every girl should have a pair.


If you HAVE to wear flats, Chanel will do.

CH01 ºì

Tea and crumpets, anyone?


Seashells. Of course.


Climbing the glass ceiling or diving into a fashion abyss?

ladder shoes




Cats IN shoes!

Cats-in-shoes13cats in crocs

And our own darling girl. We miss her so much!

This is my beloved Bandit (deceased) who allowed us to share her sofa-sometimes.