A word of warning: Beyonce says, “Caused if you liked it then you should’ve put a ring on it.” When it comes to your prepaid debit card or Paypal account, maybe someone adding a zero to your existing funds isn’t such a great idea. Please don’t let scammers put a ZERO on it.
Times are hard. But please don’t fall prey to this latest scam. Heard about it on the local news. This poor woman is in shadow. She doesn’t want to show her face because, well, quite simply, she has aided and abetted in her own robbing. A total stranger contacted her, said if she had one of those prepaid credit cards, she could crack some code, add a ‘0’ and make her life much richer.
These thieves are all over the place: Facebook, Instagram, Craigslist, Twitter, etc. Any place they can set up a bogus profile and lure you in with the promise of a quick buck. If you have $200 on your prepaid debit card, wherever you’ve purchased it, this scammer promises to add a ‘0’. So, she/he will turn your $200, to $2000, your $500, to $5000. You get the picture.
The shadow lady on the local news handed over her pin number and the rest as they say is history. Instead of that promised ‘0’ being added to her account, she ended up with ‘0’ and a horrible lesson learned, hopefully. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t be a sucker.
This person disappeared like the thief in the night he/she was. Once they’ve gotten your money, it’s all but impossible to get it back. Remember, the prepaid credit card is not a credit card in the sense that you’re dealing with a legitimate bank, say Wells Fargo, Bank of America, Chase, etc. THIS IS YOUR MONEY. Think of the prepaid card like your own personal piggy bank.
Please don’t let greed and/or some desperate situation turn you into a silhouette on the local news, putting the story out there about how you assisted in your own robbing. Instead of the scammer adding a ‘0’ to her balance, Ms. Silhouette was left with a ZERO balance on her card.
According to the BBB, Green Dot Moneypak is currently the most used preload debit card. That’s why it’s these particular scammers card of choice. Keeping their finger on the pulse of parting folks from their cash is what they do. Check out this very in depth link to how this scam works. http://www.today.com/money/scammers-now-accepting-green-dot-moneypaks-1C8721925
Should you be contacted via social media, call or text, on the street, a knock at the door, by someone insisting he/she can just manipulate your card, tell them, “thanks but no thanks.” Let others know about this scam, especially the elderly, a population often targeted by scammers. One part common sense, one part knowledge can be a powerful potion to ward off heartless scammers.
FYI: Some claim this scam actually delivered as promised. If it did, it was probably a few bucks, just my opinion. Just enough to turn some person into the scammer(s)’s own personal mule, without the person even knowing. I mean seeing someone’s twenty buck account increased to $200 would make most of us want a piece of that action, right. Sometime it’s the price a scammer pays to do business. Again, don’t be fooled.
Thanks to a diabetes class which included actual hands-on cooking, I was introduced to this fabulous recipe. Trust me, a fork full of this spaghetti squash and zucchini and you won’t even notice you’re not eating carb-heavy pasta. I’m not much of a cook, so I grabbed a jar of Prego heart healthy spaghetti sauce. They used something similar in the class so I don’t feel bad. If you want to make your own sauce, have at it. The class also used walnuts which gave it a nice crunchiness.
If you don’t focus too hard, I think it makes a great spaghetti substitute. Pasta loving diabetics meet the spaghetti squash. Hope it’s a match made in heaven. Good eating!
There is nothing I hate worst than those who devote their lives to scamming people out of their hard earned money. How scam artists are able to sleep soundly still boggles my mind. I just have to accept some people have no conscious when it comes to obtaining money by hook or crook. All we can do is arm ourselves with as much knowledge as possible. So when my local television news station, WXII 12, featured these scams I felt the least I could do was post them. If it keeps even one person from being scammed, I feel this post won’t have been in vain. The Better Business Bureau named these the top scams to watch out for. Arm yourself with knowledge and common sense (remember if it sounds too good to be true it probably is), and try not to get scammed in 2013:
Top overpayment/fake check scam: car advertisements
The online ad would say “Get Paid Just for Driving Around” – a prominent company is offering $400+ per week if you’ll drive around with their logo all over your car. They send a check to you, which you are supposed to deposit in your account and then wire part of the payment to the graphic designer who will customize the ad for your vehicle. Whoops! A week later, the check bounces, the graphic designer is nowhere to be found, and you are out the money you wired. The Internet Complaint Center (www.ic3.gov) says they saw this one a lot in 2012.
Top sales/rental scam: real stars, fake goods
Sports memorabilia and phony tickets always make the list of top counterfeit goods. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, counterfeiters manage to have their hands in your pocket all year long. With the London Olympics added to the mix, it appears that 2012 was a good year for sports fakes. Some scammers were selling cheap knock-offs in front of stadiums. Remember, if a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Top emergency scam: grandparents scam
The “Grandparents Scam” has been around a while, but it’s still so prevalent: grandchild/niece/nephew/friend is traveling abroad and calls/texts/emails to say he or she has been mugged/arrested/hurt and needs money right away (“…and please don’t tell mom and dad!”). Plus the FBI says that, thanks to social media, it’s getting easier and easier for scammers to tell a more plausible story because they can use real facts from the supposed victim’s life (“Remember that great camera I got for Christmas?” “I’m in France to visit my old college roommate.”). Easy rule of thumb – before you wire money in an emergency, check with the supposed victim or their family members to make sure they really are traveling. Odds are they are safe at home.
Top home improvement scam: Sandy “Storm Chasers”
This year there was an unusual amount of “storm chaser” activity following Super Storm Sandy. Tree removal, roofing, general home repairs – some were legitimate contractors who came from other areas for the volume of work available; others were unlicensed, uninsured and ill-prepared for the work; while some were even out-and-out scam artists who took the money and never did the work. In an emergency, it’s tempting to skip reference checking, but that’s never a good idea.
Top advance fee/prepayment scam: nonexistent loans
Loan scams continued to fester in 2012. It seems for every legitimate lender out there, there is a scammer waiting to prey on people in desperate situations. Most of the scams advertise online and promise things like no credit check or easy repayment terms. Then the hook: you have to make the first payment upfront, you have to buy an “insurance policy,” or there is some other kind of fee that you have to pay first to “secure” the loan. This year there was an aggressive twist on loan scams: consumers who were threatened with lawsuits and law enforcement action if they didn’t “pay back” loans they said they had never even taken out in the first place. Some got calls at their workplace, even to relatives. The embarrassment of being thought of as a delinquent caused some victims to pay even when they knew they didn’t owe the money.
Top employment scam: mystery shopping
If you love to shop, working as a secret shopper may sound like an ideal way to supplement your income. But scammers have figured that out, too, and many job offers are nothing more than a variation on the overpayment/fake check scam. Sometimes they even tell you that evaluating the wire service company is part of the job, which is why you need to send back part of the money. The Mystery Shopping Providers Association says it’s not the practice of their members to pre-pay shoppers.
Top sweepstakes/lottery scam: Jamaican phone lottery
This is an old one that flared up again this year. In this one, the calls come from Jamaica (area code 876) but the person claims to represent the Better Business Bureau (or FBI, or another trusted group). Great news: you’ve won a terrific prize (typical haul: $2 million and Mercedes Benz) but you have to pay a fee in order to collect your winnings. There are lots of variations on this; sometimes it’s a government grant. Best just to hang up and then file a phone fraud report with the appropriate government agency.
Top phishing scam: President Obama will pay your utility bills
Of all the politically-related scams, this one seemed to be the most prevalent. At the peak of summer with utility costs soaring, consumers got emails, letters and even door-to-door solicitations about a “new government program” to pay your utility bills. Victims “registered” with an official-looking website and provided everything scammers needed for identity theft purposes, including bank account information.
Top identity theft scam: fake Facebook tweets
Two top social media sites were exploited in one of this year’s top scams. You get a Direct Message from a friend on Twitter with something about a video of you on Facebook (“ROFL they was taping you” or “What RU doing in this FB vid?” are typical tweets). In a panic, you click on the link to see what the embarrassing video could possibly be, and you get an error message that says you need to update Flash or other video player. But the file isn’t a new version of Flash; it’s a virus or malware that can steal confidential information from your computer or smart phone. Twitter recommends reporting such spam, resetting your password and revoking connections to third-party applications.
Scam of the year: Newtown charity scams
Within hours of the horrific shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, social media pages dedicated to the child victims began cropping up and some of them were scams asking for money. The FBI arrested one woman for posing as the aunt of one of the children killed, and state and federal agencies are investigating other possible fraudulent and misleading solicitations.
February 11, 2013
Filed under Cats, Entertainment, Food for thought, Inspiration, Uncategorized
Tags: Anchorman, Birds, Crack Head, Dealer, Domestic Cats, Domesticating cats, Environmentalists, Ferals, National News, Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute and the Fish and Wildlife Service
I was half-way watching the national news the other day when the anchorman mentioned cats and really got my attention. A study conducted by scientists from the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute and the Fish and Wildlife Service estimated that domestic cats in the United States, our indoor/outdoor precious pets and outdoor strays and ferals, kill around 2.4 billion birds and 12.3 billion mammals a year, making cats one of the single greatest human-linked threats to wildlife in the nation.
This was very sobering because even though Tigger tried to bring a bird’s carcass in the house once, I’d assumed it was already dead. My precious Tigger would never kill a bird in cold blood he had no intention of eating. In hindsight Tigger rather blatantly flaunted several kills, leaving uneaten corpses right in front of the door. Of course that study snatched me right out of the state of denial I’d been living and drove home the harsh reality that those many times Tigger bit and scratched me, he could’ve inflicted much more damage.
That the spoiled, cantankerous Tigger is a killing machine has added a whole new dimension to our relationship. Maybe he sensed the gig was up. That there was no longer a need to sheath his instinct because he and I had a near physical fight a couple of days later. So I can personally attest to at least one cat’s ferociousness.
He was peeved because I refused to give him more of his favorite snack. Lower sodium honey roasted turkey. I’d quit giving it to him at one point, but started back after Zoey died, figuring why the hell not. Now he’s like a crack head always wanting to hit the pipe and I’m the dealer. I attempted to bribe him with firm strokes down his back and a good scratch beneath his chin.
He seemed to be chilling which made me relax because that baritone meow of his puts me in suspended animation to the point all I can think is how do I get him to stop. I took my eyes off of him for just a second to check the time and he hauled off and bit me on the hand. I rapped him on the forehead. His ears went back, his eyes got manic, the fangs came out and he struck at me with a paw. I jumped up and damned if he didn’t look ready to pounce. Picture a cat pinned to my chest and me trying to pry him off. My heart was pounding like a runaway stallion and adrenalin was prompting my feet to lash out. Good thing we came to our senses and backed down.
Now some of you may find this strange. But knowing my cat could be a vicious killer actually makes me feel better. Knowing that cats with no home wandering the wild won’t starve because they are natural born hunters definitely takes a load off. Maybe my love for cats is blinding. I see the birds and mammals as collateral damage. It’s survival of the fittest and if my Tigger ended up outside having to fend for himself, I sure as hell want him to be the fittest.
Thanks to that report, the scratches on my wrists and arms and the corpses I’ve seen with my own eyes, I now know that Tigger can take care of himself if he had to. I know the last thing environmentalists want to see are more cats roaming all over the place, especially feral ones. In a perfect world all cats would have homes and be kept perpetually indoors. But we all know this world is far from perfect.
Speaking of which, Tigger was outside the other night when a dog barking its head off made me open the door. There he was tail all bushed out. I didn’t see a dog but had to keep hissing at him to get him to stand down and come in. It took a while for his tail to morph back to normal size. Sensing I was proud of him he strutted around showing off.
Domesticating cats thank goodness hasn’t neutralized their natural instinct. Hunting is what cats do and I for one like knowing my cat wouldn’t starve if God forbid, he ended up in the wild.
February 1, 2013
Filed under Food for thought, Inspiration, Sex, Uncategorized
Tags: 911, Attorney General Ashcroft, BDSM, Dr. Oz, European country, Fifty Shades of Grey, Graphic Violence, Gun Control, Internet age, Janet Jackson, Nipplegate, Sex, Wardrobe Malfunction, XXX free porn clips
Dr. Oz sent all the kiddies out the room. Why? He’s gearing up to talk about sex, porn in particular. I cast sporadic glances toward the TV, but hear nothing that would’ve scarred a child for life. What is it with Americans and sex? Sex is a dirty word that can only be whispered about. If you are unmarried and female and having it, you are considered loose. There are those of us who tell maturing children their hands will fall off if they touch themselves in a particular area. When children reach an acceptable age, they’re told about birds and bees instead of sex.
Some of us aren’t even given the birds and bees scenario. Mama just told me to keep my dress down and my legs closed. She told me that many times perhaps to make up for the real conversation we never had. If not for giggling cousins telling me about ‘doing it’ in the ripped up back seat of an old broken down car, and ‘accidently’ stumbling across a couple of my older brothers’ magazines, my youth would’ve been spent wandering in a wilderness of sexual ignorance.
Judging from Dr. Oz and many others, things haven’t changed much when it comes to sex and nudity. Draping the Spirit of Justice statue during Attorney General Ashcroft’s tenure still makes me shake my head. Seeing the AG photographed one time too many in front of the statue with gasp, an exposed breast was more than the public could bear. Prior to Ashcroft drapes were rented. With 911 maybe Ashcroft made more speeches than usual in front of her, prompting the decision to buy the drapes outright to conceal the statute’s naughty part. This would imply Americans have a problem with not only sex, but nudity too.
Depiction of graphic violence from my periscope is more acceptable than nudity. A female ghost’s nipples were blurred on network television as in the case of the movie ‘Thirteen Ghosts’, but a guy getting split in half was no problem. And Janet Jackson – who must’ve thought she was in some European country – half-second wardrobe malfunction set off such a nipplegate of outrage during Superbowl XXXVlll, CBS was slapped with an indecency fine and JJ ended up issuing a publicly aired apology.
While swiftly doling out punishment to those perceived to be leading America farther down the road of moral decline, box office movies, television shows and video games grew ever more violent. Apparently, promoting a culture of violence is fine, until there’s an attempt to legislate gun control and suddenly blood-drenched movies and video games glorifying guns become a convenient scapegoat to thwart gun control.
Then there’s E. L. James ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’. I haven’t read it but have heard enough to make me wonder if the sexual content is what’s driving the book’s success. Finally, people can talk about IT. If a young, naïve girl introduced to BDSM by a handsome rich guy makes for profound conversation about tabooish sex, more power to the book. Unless something drastic happens there will be a FSOG movie.
An article about what the rating should be, doubted the movie would enjoy box office success. The assumption being, the average movie-goer would be too embarrassed to watch such eroticism sitting next to a stranger. Maybe the author was seeing him or herself hunkered down in a dark theater next to some unknown. Me, I envision maybe a group of girlfriends together, chowing down on popcorn and not worrying about strangers.
Newsflash, if those children banned from listening to adults talk about porn have access to computers or other electronic devices, chances are they’re way ahead of you in that arena. Imagine your child being taught about sex from rated XXX free porn clips. During this internet age, it’s more important than ever to talk to children about sex. Let them know the human body is not shameful and sex between consenting adults happen. If you send them out of the room, they will enter another and experience only the loveless sordid side of a natural and beautiful segment of human nature.
Sometime I have these dreams where I’m trying like crazy to get someplace. The setting is usually in or around a university. Either I can’t get to my classes or my dorm room or can’t find my car or leave my bag behind. I climb stairs that abruptly ends. I walk corridors long as roads, and enter doors that lead everywhere except where I need to be. Sometime I end up in restrooms with filthy overflowing commodes. I watch others enter and leave. I search for a clean stall but behind every door is a sight not for the meek of heart.
In one I’m desperately trying to get to my classes because my grades are on thin ice, but there’s nothing I can do. I see myself walking, feet striking the concrete, passing buildings, passing other students, passing classrooms filled with students, entering offices, stairwells that empty into yet more corridors, but none leads me to where I should be.
What does it mean? To find a clue, I look up the definition of dream? A series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep, is what one Google search turned up. According to that definition I suppose I could sum it all up and say my life is an overflowing sewer going nowhere. My frustration and the panicky feeling of running out of time are quite evident in these stories that vexes my dreams to near nightmare.
As if the classroom, dorm and restroom scenarios aren’t bad enough, there are times I can’t find my car. In these dreams, the parking lot is a huge island that includes parking decks and outside parking spaces neatly segmented, cluttered with vehicles. Again, I’m going to where I believe my car to be, but it’s not and thus begins the never-ending search. I swear in these dreams I walk my legs off without breaking a sweat.
In my last car search dream I meet a female. She’s short with black curly hair beneath a Carolina blue ball cap and she’s wearing this jersey that hangs midway on her chunky thighs. It’s chilly out. She’s wearing a dark denim jacket with that jersey dangling like a skirt. I’m standing in front of this huge old church that shadows the entire block. I’m heading up the steps hoping to find someone who can point me to a shortcut. I’ve strayed so far from that humongous parking lot it’s not even funny.
I’m eyeing the building and out of the corner of my ever-vigilant eye notices she’s watching me like some bird of prey. I thought I would be spared after she’d stated her case to a lady who’d shook her head and continued on to the daycare attached to the church. Before I can go in the opposite direction, she swoops. “Mam, mam,” she calls out. She’s in my face, not making eye contact but not hanging her head either. “I’m pregnant can you help me out?” My eyes glide downward but the getup gives nothing away. Still I dig a hand full of coins out of my slouch bag and give them to her. She’s in luck because in some of these dreams I leave my bag behind and have to go in search for it.
“Thank you mam,” she says, taking off like she expected me to ask for my money back. “Make sure you feed that baby,” I call and for the first time she looks at me does a little thing with her neck, almost like a turtle cringing toward its shell, as if to say you are lost. Who the hell are you to tell me anything? Done with me she enters a trail in a heavily treed park just a walk across the church’s asphalt and soon it swallows her whole.
The wooden medieval door won’t budge. A fire breathing dragon could’ve been behind there for all I knew. That’s how quick I high-tailed it from there. A cobblestone walkway leads up to more doors. Before I’d gotten halfway a man walks out to me. He says if I’m looking for the group that they’d gone for the day. I thanked him and stood in the shadow of that great church looking up. A cold wetness spatters on my forehead. A storm is brewing. I still myself against the elements and wonder which way to go. Then I wake up and relief floods out the frustration and growing panic because thank God it was just a dream.
Greetings and thanks to all who took time to drop by my little blog last year, all 8,000+ of you, lol. I started the blog in March or April or something like that which averaged about 1,000 views a month give or take. Trusty WordPress gurus crunched the numbers and came out with this:600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 8,700 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 15 years to get that many views. Again, thanks everybody. Now that I’ve stuck a foot in to test the water, I’m going to dive on in.
MOIN MOIN MEMORIES OF NIGERIA
When I was a college student many moons ago, I dated a guy from Nigeria, actually we lived together for a couple of years, but that’s another story. I was raised in small towns in Eastern NC. If you ever traveled 64 East back in the day, chances are you passed through one of those ‘if you blink you’ll miss it’ places of my youth. Other than work and more work, there wasn’t a whole lot for a sharecropper’s daughter to do. Of course I watched the two or three channels the tv picked up. But when I picked up my first lit book somewhere between the age of 4 and 5, I was in love. I traveled to exotic places and saw so many things through the eyes of the characters in the stories I read.
By the time I started college, this small town girl felt like a sophisticated world traveler. So naturally when I met my Nigerian prince that accent had me at ‘hello’. We met in a laundromat of all places. Right then and there I told him the good parts of my life story. I told him about my grand pop so naturally that meant we had to move in together.
Watching him with his friends, listening to them speak in their native tongue or ‘broken’ or whatever it was when they didn’t know each other’s language, was a real treat initially. Overtime it got annoying. I found it rather rude especially when they did it in my presence. It wasn’t like they didn’t speak English. The most interesting thing though was when they ate that big ol’ ball of dough. At least that’s what I called the fufu they communally dipped into a usually slimy stew or soup made with okra, tomato sauce, dried fish, chicken, and all else.
Sometime during get-togethers they invited me to partake of the cuisine, but no way could I bring myself to eat what was essentially bisquick and water turned into dough. Not to mention I didn’t find several people dipping into the same sauce appealing if you know what I mean. To their credit, I never saw anyone double-dip the fufu, but no one wiped between fingertips either. To meet them halfway, I sometime took a serving of soup or stew in a small bowl, which very often was quite delicious.
The two years we co-habitated he did most of the cooking. My idea of a meal was grabbing a burger, making a sandwich, or occasionally eating the Colonel’s fried chicken, biscuits and cole slaw. Although I tried to make his African cuisine it never came out right. But there was this one dish I promised myself I would make someday. I’d tried it at another one of their many gatherings. It was made with black-eyed peas without the eyes. They called it moi-moi or moin-moin.
Recently, a local television station featured the dish one weekend and put the recipe on their site. I missed all but the tail end of the show but went in search of the recipe. It looked darker than what I remembered. Nor did I recall a boiled egg being in there. But memory can and do get foggy over the span of years so who knows.
With a hard copy of the recipe safely within the confines of my cluttered handbag, I took to the big box store. The small bag of black-eyed peas had been soaking for nearly six hours or so when it occurred to me the eyes and hull had to come off the things. The recipe said they would rub off. The two I picked up out of what looked like zillions of soaking beans didn’t rub off too easily. Now I’m remembering why it’s taken all these years for me to attempt the recipe.
A Nigerian, a beautiful nutmeg-hued sister, told me that night how she’d rubbed the eyes out and pureed those peas to the consistency of squash baby food. I remember staring at two large turkey size tinfoil pans of moi-moi. That was a lot of black-eyed peas. Why it would’ve been the equivalent of cleaning ten buckets of chitterlings. It must’ve taken her hours and who had hours to devote to one dish, no matter how delicious it was.
So here I am all these years later faced with the daunting task of getting the eyes off all the peas now soaking in my best bowl in the kitchen sink. Maybe by morning the eyes and hull will rub right off. Maybe I’d voyage into cyberverse and encounter some life form who will tell me a quick way to rid those many legumes of their many eyes. If you would like to suffer along with me have at it. See below:
Moi-Moi From African Continental Cuisine
1 c dried black eyed peas
1-2 roasted red peppers, skins removed
1 red onion
1-2 pieces chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (canned – optional)
1 tsp. canola or other oil of your choice
1 tsp. chili powder
1 tsp. turmeric
Canola oil or Pam to grease the pan
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
3 soft boiled eggs, peeled (optional)
Soak the beans overnight. Rinse and rub between your hands to remove skins.
Grind the beans to a smooth paste with very little water. Grind onions and peppers and add to beans. Add oil and seasonings and mix well.
Slowly add warm water and stir until the mixture coats the back of a spoon.
Oil a loaf pan or spray it with Pam. If using eggs, cut a slice off the bottom so they’ll rest flat, and place in the bottom of pan. Sprinkle with salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Gently pour the bean batter over.
Cover the pan with oiled foil. Place in a bain marie (set into a roasting pan slightly larger than the loaf pan and add water to come halfway up the sides of the loaf pan). Bake for approx. 40-60 min at 350F, or until set and pulling slightly away from the edge of the pan.
Remove from the oven and bain marie. Allow to cool for 10-15 min. Gently run a knife around the edges of the pudding. Unmold onto a platter and garnish with vegetables of your choice. I used green beans and more roasted red pepper.
Moi-moi can be made with seafood and/or meat as well or just plain veggie. Moi-moi can also be cooked in the traditional banana leaf instead of the foil pan if available. A bit more difficult but more tasty and worth the effort.
I am a cat lover and every now again run across a jewel of a tale about cats. Recently I stumbled across a story in The Huffington Post that reaffirmed what I’ve felt all along. Cats are mystical beings bequeathed by the universe and once you’re aligned with the right cat or cats truly magical things are brought to bear. This I know firsthand because as I lay dying last year my cats were with me.
There I was on my bed and they jumped up to join me. After rubbing them a bit, Tigger, the big tabby sniffed at me and ran off. Zoey, my fat fluffy grrrl who loved me to her last breath, ran off too. It was the salve I’d stupidly put on my shoulder blade, thinking it would rid me of the monstrous abscess. The golf ball size thing had released toxins into my blood stream that was killing me. It had been killing me for several days.
Still I talked to Tigger and Zoey in my best Doc Holiday voice from the movie Tombstone. “Get on then you mangy cats,” I heard myself say. “Nothing but fair weather friends the both of ya,” I muttered and giggled or at least I think so. Had I not known better, I would’ve sworn the rum cake I’d consumed earlier had made me tipsy.
Of course all of it was a dream. My room door was shut that morning. The cats as they normally do were probably meowing and scratching to get in. My son, who’d found me clinging to life, had knocked on that closed door. I woke up from a four-day coma and was in the hospital two weeks. If I’d not carried on with the cats in my dream, I’m convinced I would not be here today.
So when I ran across the story about Toldo, the cat, it sent delicious chills down my spine. After I wiped away the tears, I commented on the article and this is what I said:
“I foolishly thought I’d rescued my cats until I later found out they were the ones who’d rescued me. Cats have very addictive personalities and don’t go into anything lightly. Toldo will continue to honor the grave of his acolyte until he can no longer do so or until he decides to quit on his own. Cats are beautiful mystical beings and should be treated accordingly.”
Anyone who loves cats and has had a near death experience may find the story especially endearing. It touched my heart and in case you’ve not read it, I’ve included it here for your entertainment pleasure.