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Yeah, Gordon Lightfoot's death has had this particular song stuck in my head the last few days. A mesmerizing song about sailors drowning in the freezing dark waters of the Great Lakes. Although honestly, I think that not many people would even be aware of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald if that song hadn't come out.
Anyway, we're down to two days until we leave, so today's chores include a quick trip into town to buy camping food, and getting with my neighbor to give her the house key so she can feed the cats while we're away. Needing to get cat sitting or boarding led me down a somewhat uncomfortable pathway of thought about the age of my two fuzz monsters and my own goals.
See, I am really drawn to doing adventure shit. I like walking and running long distances. I want to thru-hike the Florida Trail one day. I want to try multi-day endurance races, and on some of those I'll likely need Fox to crew me. So ... maybe when they die ... I shouldn't get new cats.
Which seems unthinkable. I love having cats around. But I'm also torn, because it's unfair to them to leave them alone at a kennel or something for weeks at a time while I go do these long hikes or runs and stuff. I don't know, maybe I'm drastically overthinking things, here. Fox couldn't exactly thru-hike the WHOLE Florida Trail because he'd never be able to get that much time off work. At best he could section hike. On the other hand, I could do the whole thing on my own, especially if he was here at the house to send supply shipments, keep an eye on my GPS location, and provide moral support like "Don't get eaten by a bear". Though it is a consideration, because adopting a kitten or two locks me into another 15 years or so of caring for another creature or creatures.
Of course there's nothing to stop me doing my thru-hike, and then picking up a shelter cat when I get home. Or, you know, finding a cat while I'm out. "Fox, I found a kitty!"
"That's kind of a big kitten."
"Look, it's so fuzzy, it's got spots!"
"I think that's a panther cub..."
"So we'll need a bigger litter box."
This was more on my mind this morning after reading an article on the UTMB, and then watching Crowley limping a little because he's getting some arthritis in his front passenger-side leg. Poor old man, his muzzle is getting more white hairs on it, too.
I need to do a base run today, which I want to do while it's still nice and cool, then clean up and head to Middleburg.
Anyway, we're down to two days until we leave, so today's chores include a quick trip into town to buy camping food, and getting with my neighbor to give her the house key so she can feed the cats while we're away. Needing to get cat sitting or boarding led me down a somewhat uncomfortable pathway of thought about the age of my two fuzz monsters and my own goals.
See, I am really drawn to doing adventure shit. I like walking and running long distances. I want to thru-hike the Florida Trail one day. I want to try multi-day endurance races, and on some of those I'll likely need Fox to crew me. So ... maybe when they die ... I shouldn't get new cats.
Which seems unthinkable. I love having cats around. But I'm also torn, because it's unfair to them to leave them alone at a kennel or something for weeks at a time while I go do these long hikes or runs and stuff. I don't know, maybe I'm drastically overthinking things, here. Fox couldn't exactly thru-hike the WHOLE Florida Trail because he'd never be able to get that much time off work. At best he could section hike. On the other hand, I could do the whole thing on my own, especially if he was here at the house to send supply shipments, keep an eye on my GPS location, and provide moral support like "Don't get eaten by a bear". Though it is a consideration, because adopting a kitten or two locks me into another 15 years or so of caring for another creature or creatures.
Of course there's nothing to stop me doing my thru-hike, and then picking up a shelter cat when I get home. Or, you know, finding a cat while I'm out. "Fox, I found a kitty!"
"That's kind of a big kitten."
"Look, it's so fuzzy, it's got spots!"
"I think that's a panther cub..."
"So we'll need a bigger litter box."
This was more on my mind this morning after reading an article on the UTMB, and then watching Crowley limping a little because he's getting some arthritis in his front passenger-side leg. Poor old man, his muzzle is getting more white hairs on it, too.
I need to do a base run today, which I want to do while it's still nice and cool, then clean up and head to Middleburg.
