2D is doing well

Did you know that Duncan likes to call himself 2D? Duncan Dogcat.

The pedicure went just fine. 2D wasn't into any of the soaking solutions I offered, so we went without.

He also decided to do his own filing.

Addicting

Ms Army Pants: You are obsessed!
Woodsy: No I am addicted.

Below is a quote from the book that I am reading, In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction, by Gabor Maté.

“There are almost as many addictions as there are people. In Brahmajala Sutta, the spiritual master Gotama identifies many pleasures as potentially addictive.

…Some ascetics and Brahmins…remain addicted to attending such shows as dancing, singing, music, displays, recitations. Hand music, cymbals and drums, fairy shows…combats with elephants, buffaloes, bulls, rams;…

Gotama, known to us as Buddha, lived and taught about twenty-five hundred years ago in what are now Nepal and northern India. Today he might also include in his sermon: sugar, caffeine, talk show, gourmet cooking, music buying, right-or left-wing politics…”

I would like to add blogging to this list. But I can’t decide if I am addicted to blogging, or if I am addicted to my blogging?

Sorry Audrey

The people appear to have spoken.

1-handed kitty 'n' meta-blogging

so i m blogging wit 1 hand. because duncan is in my lap and he gets testy when both hands are on the keyboard.

he seems to like to have his neck fur scratched and when his chin is rubbed he gets real dopey.

when he gets that way or falls asleep i've been practising at getting him used to me holding his paws. why? just as i was about to leave with him on tuesday night, zoom said, oh, he could use a manicure. would you mind?

of course not, i said.

oh, good, she said, i've never had the nerve to give him one.

but enough about the cat. how about some meta-blogging...

• have you been following evey the former la canadienne who is now in a jar? she's a high school student. so her life often sucks. except her improv team is going to the nationals! the fricking nationals! congratulations evey and her team! even duncan thinks it's impressive and i think it's great she's bringing the blogosphere along 4 the ride.

damn either duncan better get that manicure or i better put on a thicker shirt.

• over on peripheral vision Kate Wilhelm shows us how to get a controversy going on your blog: link to some artists who have opposite views on the artistic and social merit of one of their works and let them have at it.

i also need a wider lap. my right hand is supporting his head and it's going to cramp up soon. my hand. not his head.

• Reduction on Myspace is putting 50 small, pamphlet sized artworks, carefully printed by hand from one block of wood on OC Transpo buses around Ottawa. did anybody get 1?
  

he's asleep now. he's got the cutest little snore. not like mine. there are imperial marches based on my snoring. duncan's snoring would barely rate a lullaby.

Duncan the Dog Cat is Here!

You may have already seen the news on Zoom's blog. It is true. Duncan is staying with me for a week. What can I tell you? When the Celebrity Cats' bloggers leave town, the Celebrity Cats want to stay with me.

Duncan is a boy cat and I'm told he has boy parts. So the gender issues are straightforward. I am happy to report that he did not sleep on my head last night and he did not try to hop in the shower with me.

However, I am prepared for there to be some weirdness: (1) He brought a ziploc bag full of q-tips with him; and (2) Zoom said that she read somewhere on the internet that Norwegian Forest cats like Duncan "take off their long underwear in the spring." Zoom also said that she wants to be around to see this. I am encouraging Duncan to wait until Zoom is back because I don't want to see him take off his underwear. I've got the thermostat set to 15° C and I say things to him like "look at all that snow out there."

Something I don't understand is how Zoom manages to do any blogging from her house. This is the first five minutes that Duncan has allowed me since he got here. I'm either petting him or listening to him whine about me not petting him.