Thursday, March 7, 2013

Cat Preserves: That Sounds Too Much Like Something One Might Eat from a Jar, Sort of Like Strawberry Preserves

           One of the many things I sacrifice  in the name of academic success!

My time as a lady of leisure is reaching its end. Soon I'll be toiling away at a desk in a classroom or elsewhere during many of my waking hours.  Toiling away is a bit of an exaggeration. I'll be trying hard  not to smirk as others toil away. My hard work was mostly completed weeks ago. I'll have the bittersweet privilege of watching my classmates struggle to complete assignments and studying that should have been addressed weeks ago.  The most difficult part is trying hard not to look too all-knowing as I observe this. To do such, though, would be socially suicidal, and I'm far from the greatest social success on the west coast even as it stands. Instead, I'll nod sympathetically as though I'm going through the very same thing, which I'm not. Adding to the difficulty, apparently, is that the very best parties always happen during Hell week, forcing these would-be students to make the choice between having  the university experiences of their lives or  actually being university students and earning degrees. Such is life -- a series of choices. They'll get through it like so many before them have done. Striking a balance between drunken revelry and higher education is a difficult proposition but one that can be achieved.

The woman of whom I wrote yesterday, who was killed by an African male tiger at Cat Haven, sometimes known as Cat Hell, suffered her death as a result of a broken neckl the county coroner believes death was near instantaneous which is certainly a blessing if it happened in such a manner. it has been hypothesized that the deceased, M. Hanson, was providing food for the animal in another enclosure when it broke through to where she was. This make more sense than an apparently lucid adult entering an enclosure holding a fully-grown make lion.

Actress Tippi Hedron, herself the founder of a cat haven of sorts,  had a less-than sympathetic take on the situation, at least toward the perspective of the woman who lost her life.  "It wasn't the lion's fault. It's the human's. fault always."   However much truth her statement may contain, and while I'm certainly far from suggesting that human error did not contribute to this tragedy,  I found Ms. Hedron's comments callous at the very least.  I, too, am sorry that a lion had to be killed, but I can at least mourn the loss of human life as well. Furthermore, while I know nothing of Ms. Hedron's cat reserve,  Shambala,  but with the manner of reality, karmic forces, human error, and everything else that is usually at work, Ms. Hedron's reserve could be one tiny oversight away from a similar occurrence at her own preserve. She would do well to reserve judgment in such a public manner.

And speaking of the vulnerable, my professor from last year is still supposedly holding a mountain lion, which I personally saw in its holding area on her property last year (you already gave me my grade, lady, and I'm not taking another of your classes, so do your very best to seek revenge if you happen to beat the million-to-one odds and come across this blog)  on a converted tennis court on property in rural Santa Barbara County.  If I were one of her neighbors, I would be very concerned.


  1. Hell Week , I believe, can be defined in one of two ways as it pertains to university life. One definition pertains to the week before finals. the other definition is whatever is the official or unofficial partyingest (no such word, I know)week of an academic year. At my university, it's the week of Halloween, although every other week of the year comes in at a close second. The student body at my school parties as does no other school on the west coast.

  2. We had Rag week or freshers, the first year students, usually in September. It's now banned in the town because of the drunken mayhem. Partying a week before finals doesn't sound like a great idea. All those brain cells and memory banks erased.
    Is that black and white profile pic of you? It looks as if someone stole your last cookie.

  3. Almost forgot. Forget those student parties. We're on the countdown to Paddy's Day. Got anything planned?

  4. My mom has already rescheduled the three classes she's supposed to lecture on March 18 in anticipation of the hangover she may have. We'll have relatives here from all over the state as well as Vegas plus whatever locals have figured out how freely the Guinness flows at our house on the 17th.

    My mom has decided that my 21-and-over classmates are welcome, but she doesn't want responsibility for underage drinking. That's OK, as all of Isla Vista loves any excuse for a party. They won't go dry.

  5. The black-and-white shot is of me and was taken by an uncle whom I despise; hence the "you stole my last cookie" expression. It's interestingly the last picture taken of me before I became fairly ill from malnutrition because no one was feeding me when my mom was being treated for leukemia, so it's the final picture we have of me with chipmunk cheeks.

    The jerk uncle sold it for a few hundred lousy bucks,he jerk uncle and it was used on an ironic Mother's Day card. didn't share the proceeds, of course.

    The Mormon half of the family likes to think that was the permanent expression on my face, but I smiled as much as any other child did --- just not at the relatives I didn't like.

  6. It's an incident packed life you've had up to now. It's a great pic, you're certainly giving him the daggers look.
    You bear a resemblance to child actor Shirley Temple.

  7. My friend Becca told me my curls made me look a bit like Shirley Temple in that pic, although I doubt Shirley was ever allowed to scowl at anyone the way I did. My hair is still pretty curly, but I flat-iron the curls out of it almost all the time now.