I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Random

  • all cat adventures point to Pretty

    all cat adventures point to Pretty


    If the Jeopardy question was who loves to rescue people, animals, random family castaway treasures – the correct answer would be who is Pretty?

    If the Jeopardy question was what particular super Cat Sleuth solved the mystery of the Bully Cat’s permanent stomping grounds weeks ago – the correct answer would be who is Pretty?

    Bully Cat’s crib – one block south of our house

    Yes, Pretty observed with her cat detective skills several weeks ago that we have neighbors a block down the street from our house (the opposite direction of Neighbor John’s cat condo) who regularly leave their garage door open at night…just enough for a cat to scoot under. She suggested that cat might be Bully Cat since I mentioned I saw him occasionally in the vicinity of the open garage door on my morning walks. Aha.

    Today I spied Bully Cat hustling toward the garage door

    My last view of BC was his tail as he made himself little to slide under it.

    However, 15 minutes later when I finished my walk he mysteriously appeared in front of our house, gave me a wary stare and then looked longingly toward our carport – perhaps for Carport Kitty who never materialized.

    Bully Cat was exploring my yard trash today

    where in the world is Carport Kitty?

    Not to worry. Although CK was nowhere to be seen when we came home from babysitting late this afternoon, Pretty called to me from the kitchen a few minutes later with the welcome words the cat is out here looking for you and her supper. I sprang into full meal preparation mode with her Fancy Feast chicken pate plus a generous helping of Meow Mix pellets. Yummy. She allowed a brief pet as I placed the bowl in front of her. Sigh.

    I stood guard to protect her from undesirable interference from either Bully Cat or Yellow Cat now revealed to be the Orange Tabby.

    Seriously. I stood outside in the cold carport guarding a cat’s dining experience for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time. My dogs eat their meals in 30 seconds, but this cat made a career of her dinner.

    As for Pretty, she was safe and warm inside catching up on her Tweets, getting ready for tonight’s Jeopardy, perhaps plotting her next rescues. Thank goodness she rescued me.

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

    Stay safe, stay sane, get vaccinated and please stay tuned.

  • was Fats Domino in love with a cat?

    was Fats Domino in love with a cat?


    I’m walkin’, yes indeed
    And I’m talkin’ about you and me
    I’m hopin’ that you’ll come back to me, yeah

    (lyrics from I’m Walkin by Dave Bartholomew/Antoine Domino)

    Carport Kitty spied on morning walk today

    under Neighbor John’s truck

    Carport Kitty has been a no show in our carport for the past couple of days which is always worrisome for the Alarmist in me, but this morning I saw her in one of her favorite spots under Neighbor John’s truck. Neighbor John is the creator of the cat bed and breakfast where stray cats spend the night during cold weather – I am always happy to see CK in John’s driveway as I walk past even though she rarely acknowledges my overtures of good will.

    In the interim, whether sent as an ambassador by Carport Kitty or just another entrepreneur looking for food, this cat visited yesterday afternoon at CK’s feeding time.

    yellow cat

    I made this mistake.

    not a full meal, mind you – not Fancy Feast – just snack

    Later in the afternoon Bully Cat and a small black cat were seen running for cover out of our carport when Pretty and I opened the kitchen door to leave for the Gamecock women’s basketball game last night. (We crushed Kansas State to remain undefeated.)

    But why is Carport Kitty so fickle?

    I’m lonely as I can be
    I’m waiting for your company
    I’m hoping that you’ll come back to me    .

    Okay, Antoine better known to me as Fats, you must have been in love with a stray cat. I totally get it.

    Carport Kitty

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

    Stay safe, stay sane, get vaccinated and please stay tuned.

  • Thanks Giving: Good News Travels Fast

    Thanks Giving: Good News Travels Fast


    Seven years ago today I published this Thanksgiving post – I am still thankful for Teresa (known now to you as Pretty), our home, our family and for the recognition our relationship received in time for giving thanks in 2014. Lest we forget…

    My friend Bervin is a retired serviceman who has helped Teresa and me in our assorted yards in the houses we’ve lived in for the fourteen years we’ve been living together.  I’m not sure how old he is…my guess is he’s in his mid to late fifties.  He is divorced and doesn’t have children of his own but has tons of nieces and nephews that he loves dearly.  He took care of his father for a number of years until his dad passed away the same year my mother died.  Bervin and I talk politics and football regularly when he comes to our house to work on one of his days off from his full-time job at Wal-Mart.  He is a tall handsome African-American man with a soothing voice.

    This morning Bervin called me to say he’d seen Teresa and me on the news last night.  He called to tell us congratulations on our marriage license and added “ain’t nothing wrong with that.  No, nothing.”

    Austin is a seventeen-year-old senior at Montgomery High School in Montgomery, Texas.  He was our next-door neighbor on Worsham Street for the last year we had our house there.  Austin is a terrific baseball player and recently got a scholarship to go to Angelina College in Texas next year.  He is a scholar athlete with super good grades to go with his good looks and other talents.  He used to come visit me sometimes and often brought food that his mother Melina had cooked and sent to me.  We moved from Worsham this past April, and I miss our talks.

    Yesterday Austin sent me a text that said “hey mrs. Sheila I’m proud and happy for you and mrs. Teresa!  love you both!”

    From Bervin and Austin and our neighbors across the street on Canterbury Road to family and friends in Texas and South Carolina to cyberspace friends in Mexico, South Africa, France, the Netherlands, Australia, Canada… from friends in the USA in California on the west coast  to New York on the east coast and everywhere in between – literally from sea to shining sea… we have received incredible messages of love and support over the past two days as the State of South Carolina became the 35th (or 34th depending on who’s counting!) state to make same-sex marriage legal.  Personal translation: Teresa and I were issued a marriage license by Richland County Probate Judge Amy McCullough late yesterday afternoon in the midst of an avalanche of good wishes.

    We have been touched and overwhelmed by the media and social media response and are beyond grateful for the support.  Teresa refuses to watch the TV interviews on the internet because she was unprepared to actually go into the courthouse yesterday morning.  I was going by to pay the fee ($42.50 for anyone wondering) and she was staying in the car with the engine running to keep warm.  When Judge McCullough informed me she was able to complete our application process, she also told me Teresa had to be there to re-sign the paperwork we had signed in October.  I texted T to come in, and the media began filming when she joined me at the desk.  Teresa was horrified because she hadn’t washed her hair!

    I, on the other hand, did watch the interviews last night and realized I clearly turned into a pillar of salty tears when the reality of the moment hit me and I was asked about my feelings…my feelings?  I had no words then and not many more now. I wonder how any couple feels when they apply for a marriage license?  Excited, nervous, joyful, proud, like something good is about to happen?  I wonder how the suffragettes in South Carolina felt when they voted for the first time…I wonder what the people of color in South Carolina felt when they saw the “colored” signs coming down…I wonder what the illegal immigrants who have lived in South Carolina for decades will feel when they get a driver’s license…maybe I had those feelings or ones like them.  Regardless, this member of the “older couple” couldn’t have ever imagined a moment like this when she was a little girl who asked another little girl to marry her in the early 1950s.   Wow…was what I felt.  Jubilation T. Cornpone…was what I felt.

    One of the interesting comments made in a TV interview I watched was that Teresa and I had been “dating for fourteen years.”  Gosh, was that what we’d been doing for fourteen years?  Maybe that’s what young people call living together these days, and I know this youthful reporter was not intentionally offensive.  Or maybe this was a tiny example of why marriage equality is necessary: to say hey this isn’t dating – this is my family we’re talking about, a family that has been through the same highs and lows your family goes through except we lacked the piece of paper that your parents had to make it legal.  Dating, to me, is a trial run.  Teresa and I are already in the race together and way past the starting gate.

    To the LGBTQ activists we have worked with for the past thirty years in South Carolina and around the country – thank you for each goal we set and each victory we made happen together.  The burdens have been much easier to bear when they are shared, and we’ve had warriors with Great Spirit walking every step with us.  We admire and respect your leadership and bravery over the long haul that is the task of changing a culture and fundamentally altering the political landscape.

    I often say the battles are for those who will come after us and that the next generation will benefit from our efforts in the state, and there is truth in that.  But I also want to remember my sisters and brothers who did not live to share these celebrations with us.  Last night we went to dinner with one of my oldest friends Millie who took Teresa and me and another good friend Patti to an Italian restaurant.  Millie had made the plans a week ago so we weren’t there to celebrate the excitement of yesterday but I confess I did carry the license with me.  I wasn’t leaving home without it.

    pasta fresca pic

    The waitresses were fabulous and came to our booth to congratulate us when they realized why we were ordering champagne and snapping pictures and brought our desserts with candles to end the dinner with a bang.  Our server was a young woman with a great smile, and she drew “hearts” on our to- go box.  Really sweet.

    But Millie’s partner of fifteen years, Cindy, wasn’t with us because she had died earlier this year.  Millie said Cindy would have wanted them to be next in line to apply for the marriage license.  This was not to be for her and many of our brothers and sisters who have gone before us.  We will always honor their memories.

    One week from today we will observe my favorite holiday of the year, Thanksgiving Day.  Teresa and I will make our usual trip to the upstate to have a late evening family meal with her mother’s people in the fellowship hall of the First Baptist Church of Fingerville, South Carolina.  I always love being with her family because they are good people and because nothing is more important to me than family.

    This year I’m getting a head start on the holiday and giving thanks for the woman who loved me enough to say yes, I want to marry you.  That’s the Good News tonight.  Tell it.

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

  • joining the community of lesbian cat lovers

    joining the community of lesbian cat lovers


    Carport Kitty has dropped by around dinner time for the past two late afternoons and I, as Pretty predicted, make sure to rush her food to the carport before she has time to think I have failed her. No sign of Bully Cat. And no sign of Carport Kitty following her Fancy Feast and Meow Mix. She is not one to linger for a visit, but she has at a minimum allowed me to give her a quick rub when I set her food down. This was the extent of our relationship.

    She stopped coming by in the mornings to eat so I assumed Neighbor John must be a bed and breakfast arrangement for the heated condo accommodations. However, I walked past his house on my regular early morning walks with my eyes turned toward John’s driveway just in case Carport Kitty might be up and about for a stretch in the sun. I hadn’t seen her at his house for a while until this morning.

    There she was sitting in Neighbor John’s driveway

    I stopped to chat but kept my distance in the street. How were things working out for her in the heated condo? Did she like her friends who roomed with her at night? How was the breakfast and by the way, I have delicious Fancy Feast at our carport this morning if you’re interested. Otherwise, I will see you for dinner.

    Carport Kitty running toward me

    To my astonishment I felt movement behind me, turned, and saw Carport Kitty actually trotting behind me like one of my dogs would do. Evidently mentioning the food made an impression.

    The next thing I heard was the sound of garbage trucks rumbling down the street behind me, and I thought (being the Alarmist Pretty thinks I am) of the irony in the story I would tell of how I was welcomed with my newly minted membership in the Cats for Lesbians Club only to have that membership revoked because Carport Kitty had been killed by men who didn’t care about animals.

    The men did care, though, and slowed their gigantic commercial vehicles as Carport Kitty leaped in front of me and raced up our driveway. I moved as fast as I could to get her breakfast. Close call.

    As CK dined, I noticed from my kitchen spying post she ate quickly, glancing around like something bothered her. I fed the dogs, then went back to check on her only to find Bully Cat having a go at the food. First of all, I think I showed improvment in my cattitude by not opening the door with hysterical obscenities. No, no, no.

    I opened the door which caused the Bully Cat to retreat to our garbage cans – not a full retreat – but not disrespectful. I appreciated that and simply said you have to go away because Carport Kitty needs me more than you do. (Maybe I waved my arms a little with a Shoo or two.)

    Bully Cat did retreat across the street, Carport Kitty finished her breakfast. My membership in the community of lesbian cat lovers is temporarily secure.

    **********

    Stay safe, stay sane, get vaccinated and please stay tuned.

  • the return of the cat formerly known as Lilibets

    the return of the cat formerly known as Lilibets


    Following the incidence with the Bully Cat in our carport three weeks ago, and perhaps coincidentally with much cooler weather, sightings of Lilibets went dark. That is to say, as quickly as the stray cat made us her new best friends, she vanished. Pretty and I became alarmed when she didn’t make her normal breakfast and dinner times but assumed she must be “wintering” at Neighbor John’s house in the heated condo he provided. Perhaps he now served Fancy Feast, too. I skulked outside John’s house so many times looking for a glimpse of the cat I was afraid I might be mistaken for stalking. (Skulking a lot is not the same as stalking.)

    Being the Alarmist that Pretty knows and calls me, I began to imagine the cat had been mauled by the Bully Cat, lay meowing for help, dialing 911, being run over in the road because that is how an Alarmist’s imagination works…until…

    Last week I passed Neighbor John’s house on my regular morning walk and who should I see sitting as big as you please in the sun in his driveway but our cat Lilibets. Naturally, I began to speak to her, to tell her we missed her, wouldn’t she like to drop by for a meal every once in a while. She looked at me with utter disdain, as if I had been a complete stranger making a fool of myself. I picked up the fragile pieces of my heart and walked home.

    When I relayed this story to Pretty, she said Okay, this cat is officially all yours. When I protested, she said no, no – all yours.

    This morning was a glorious fall day for my walk.

    Coming down Cardinal this morning

    Passing by Neighbor John’s house, I gave my usual check for Lilibets, and what do you think I saw?

    Lilibets herself under Neighbor John’s truck in his driveway!

    Again I called to her, said how happy I was to see her, how had she been? Nothing. I was apparently dead to her. Somewhat sadly I walked the few houses down to our driveway where I saw her water and food bowls Pretty had bought for her when she named her Lilibets.

    I saw Neighbor John’s truck go past as I walked up the kitchen steps and waved to him. He didn’t wave back.

    Then I went inside to do the regular feedings for Spike, Charly and Carl but came back outside a few minutes later only to spy her royal highness Lilibets.

    I wasted no time in preparing her favorite meal.

    she wasted no time in eating it

    Such a happy ending for an Alarmist. Who knows when my cat will return, but when she does, her new name will be Carport Kitty.

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

    Stay safe, stay sane, get vaccinated and please stay tuned.