A Step in Time -&- The Cats

I found something interesting in Wal-Mart today...... my husband and I went there for a look-see around the store and they had a display of pedometers. A friend in our Charades group has one of these little things and she clips it to her slacks to record how much she walks in a day's time.

I've often wondered the same thing. I swear, there are days that it seems like I'm on my feet more than I'm in a chair or in the car. The price on the pedometer was less than $4.00 so I thought it was a cheap enough price to pay to satisfy my curiosity.

This pedometer is about as big as a standard-sized ice-cube, but not as thick. It's made of hard plastic, runs on a tiny watch-battery, and clips onto the waist-band of your slacks. It can be set to record miles, kilometers, or steps.

By the time we got the pedometer out of the plastic packaging (you'd think they were safeguarding the Holy Grail in there)... and figured out how to use it... it was nearly 3:30 this afternoon by the time I clipped this little magic thing on and let it start counting. It is now just a few minutes after 9 p.m., and according to the pedometer, I've walked 5,979 steps. And it will still be counting, once I get up from my desk, since the night isn't yet over.

I plan to keep track of how many steps I walk in a day...... tomorrow's number should be interesting because I'll clip this pedometer on when I get up in the morning and then not take it off till I go to bed at night. The maximum number the pedometer can register is 10,000 steps. I would imagine if you do pass that number, it will start counting from one all over again.


It remains hot and humid, sticky and muggy, with thundershowers every blessed day. An umbrella has become part of my accessories every day. Let's see... do I take the pink one, the red one, or the purse-sized purple one. And on some days, an umbrella that would cover a picnic table just wouldn't be big enough--- those are the days that you stay at home.


Mickey Kitty continues to thrive, to play, to entertain, to discover. He is trying to establish himself as King of The Screen Porch, no matter how I explain to him that he has to share the back porch with his older "brothers" who were here before him. Rusty continues to ignore him, and AngelBoy hisses at him and gives him dirty-kitty looks. Mickey Kitty attempts to terrorize ShadowBaby by constantly grabbing at his tail and plowing his 2-pound kitten-body into ShadowBaby's 16-pound cat-body. I'm keeping an eye on both of them, but they will just have to work this out. When ShadowBaby has had enough, he jumps up on one of the tables or chairs so he's at a higher level than Mickey Kitty. In cat language, I imagine ShadowBaby is saying something like "If anyone here is King of The Screen Porch, you're looking right up at him, kitty-boy."

I've brought Mickey Kitty into the house from time to time, to give him a break from the porch, and to let him have a look-see around the inside. I have to watch him carefully because he's so very tiny and there are too many places for him to hide. Not to mention there's much too much stuff around here that I wouldn't want him to be bothering with. We're very lucky with our cats... they don't touch or break anything. Come to think of it, luck has nothing to do with it. I have given a lot of time, patience and love to these cats. I talk to them like children, I respect them as felines, they understand most of what I say and they're very well-behaved.

Except, of course, on the rare (okay, not that rare) occasion that a new little kitten finds its way into our lives. Then I have to make believe I'm a cat and try and understand their individual reactions to the "intruder." In my mind, I can hear Rusty saying: "What? Another one? Does this mean I get less to eat?" And AngelBoy is thinking: "Why do you need another cat? Who on earth can be cuter and more adorable than blue-eyed moi?" And ShadowBaby... I know he's wondering: "I don't care if he's just a kitten... I want to be the only baby-cat around here."

Somehow, it all works out.... somehow, as the saying goes... there is always room for one more cat.