I was working on a post when I encountered a technical glitch. Instead of giving up, I explored everything I could think of, then I went over it one more time with feline. Still broken.
Kind of reminded me of the old story about the man who thought Fifi the poodle was off her feed.
The Doc said he didn’t think there was anything seriously wrong with the poodle, but the man INSISTED that he conduct every possible test. Rather than subjecting the animal to pokes, prods and other indignities, the doc went into the back room and came back with a cat on a leash. He led the cat around the ailing pet for a couple of circles without saying anything.
He then went into the back room and came back with a DOG on a leash. The dog gave one sniff, then turned and walked away.
What was THAT all about?
“What was THAT all about? the concerned pet owner asked.
“Take Fifi home. The cat scan and the lab report came back negative.”
The wall of desperation
This is what journalists do when faced with a deadline and nothing to fill the space. I’ve been there before. Remember the Pomeroy Frog Jumping contestant and Nellie Vess?
I don’t remember where he / she came from, and I must have been away at college when he / she fell between the cracks of memory. To make the account easier, I’m going to arbitrarily classify the feline a female. You can click on the photos to make them larger, but try to ignore the dust specks.
We weren’t really cat people
We weren’t really cat people. Dad, in particular, could see a certain utility in a dog, but cats were beneath his radar. Until Kitty Cat came along. To be honest, I’m not even sure that Kitty Cat was her name.
Anyway, shortly after Dad would sit down in his basement recliner to unwind from work and catch a little TV, the kitten would jump up on his lap and it was game on.
Suffered indignities kindly
The cat figured a little indignity was a decent tradeoff for a warm lap.
She knew who was in charge
Funny hat or not, Kitty Cat knew who was driving the bus.
True example of coffee can film
This had to have been one of my famous “coffee can” films, based on the number of dust spots I had to touch up. I must have shot an assignment on the first part of the roll, then banged off these frames and pitched them into the garbage pail under my enlarging table.
I finally decided this shot wasn’t worth spending any more time on. If the white dust specks had been black, I’d have tried to pass them off as fleas.