The second bedroom in our condo has morphed from the Man Room to the Pussycat Lounge.

No fellas, it's not this Pussycat Lounge but the new den for our newest four-legged residents.

In November, still mourning over the early year loss of Cathy's canine daughter Sweetie and my feline son Homes, we came across an local shelter website where we found "Sidney" and "Sheldon", two Siamese cats whose owner (obviously a fan of the novelist) had fallen ill. As they were older cats, we sympathized with the fact that it was hard to find a home for them. And as Homes was about 12 when he passed, I felt that these 11-year-old sister would essentially pick up where he left off.

A week later we were able to bring them home. We also decided to rechristen them "Sydney" and "Shelley". While they are both very vocal, which I found is typical of Siamese cats, they each have their own personalities and preferences.

Sydney (the blue point on the right) is very laid-back. In fact she likes to lay on her back for me to give her belly rubs. Other than whomever is closest to the food at mealtime, she seems to prefer my company.

Shelley (the brown point on the left) is definitely the most assertive. If our alarm clock does not go off, she will not hesitate to let us know what time it is. In fact, she must be on Greenwich Mean Time as she often attempts to wake us even earlier. If Sydney is resting on one of us or otherwise getting attention, she will bogart her way between her sister and us - even when there's no room - to the point of Sydney deciding to concede her position and leave. On the other hand, while Shelley never met a lap she didn't like, she seems to prefer laying on Cathy's belly, often using her head as a battering ram to show her enthusiastic affection for Cathy.

Even beyond the economic situation that most everyone is dealing with, this has been a challenging year for both Cathy and me. The early Christmas present we gave ourselves by bringing Shelley and Sydney into our lives has made a big difference.

God And Guns

As alluded to in a previous post, I’m admittedly not the most spiritual person in the world. Nonetheless, I support any faith that genuinely encourages peace.

I am not a present or future gun owner but I respect the spirit of the Second Amendment. I do think a “happy medium” should be found between responsible gun owners and those who would abuse the system for personal gain.

What I can’t understand is how some people can be so fervent about both their religion and their gun rights. It is one thing to be, say, a gun owner who believes in God but shows up infrequently in the pews… or perhaps a church deacon who carries protection to negotiate his or her way through a troubled neighborhood in order to serve the parishioners. But for someone to be as enthusiastic about God as they are about guns seems so contradictory to me. The obviously radical al-Qaeda killed over three thousand people in the name of Allah. Yet many people consider the military that we sent over to defeat them to be fighting “for God and country”.

Given all of this, I just have to ask: “What would Jesus do?”

Giving Thanks

I hope everyone reading this had a very Happy Thanksgiving. My lady Cathy and I went to South Carolina to enjoy the holiday with my Dad and other relatives. It's a relatively recent tradition that my Dad credits me for starting. Unfortunately, this years gathering was bittersweet as it was the first one without my Aunt Willie Mae whose life was senselessly taken away from her in late August by some thugs who invaded her home. After dinner, we decided to head down to her gravesite and share our thoughts. If it didn't bring closure for all of us, at least it allowed some catharsis. All in all, I think we appreciated each other's presence more than ever this year.