Although I am acquainted with many, many dogs (I do love them so), I also have a number of cat friends.
This is Freya, who came from the Humane Society as a kitten (not actually in that box). That thing on her neck is a cat locator. Should she by chance escape into the great outdoors, it helps to find her. One just points this radar gun sort of thing in different directions until one hears a beep. Then one follows the beeps until one sees the cat. It’s really quite handy.
This is her brother Thor, a purebred Maine Coon cat. He was still a kitten when I took this photo, now he weighs almost 15 pounds (he’s a big boy).
This is Cupcake (and she is no sweet treat), who is a bit of a devil-girl. She enjoys being petted until that fateful moment when she has had enough. Then she whips her head around and bites you (or me). But she is pretty and her owner loves her, so she does her job.
This is Nico, a sort of Siamese-ish cat. He’s quite friendly with beautiful blue eyes. He normally wears a collar to prevent him from leaving his yard, but he had broken this and was waiting on a replacement (he is a bit of a naughty boy).
This time around I didn’t get to actually see this cat, but I have seen him before. It’s Tuna, the amazing acro-cat. He has been trained to use his paw to bong away on a cowbell, among other things (Yeah, I know if he was a dog it would be no big deal, even rather mundane. But training a cat to do anything on command is truly amazing).
Combining patriotism and strength, this machine is more about divining one’s personality rather than telling the future. But I suppose that one’s personality type leads to a certain sort of implied future (after all, no one wants to be a weakling!).
One of the oldest forms of fortune telling is the horoscope, that somehow one is subjected to astrological influences based on the date of one’s birth. Of course, just like going to anexpert a palm reader, for a really special prediction, one must consult an astrologer and have a chart drawn up. Based on the minute of one’s birth, as well as the date this is said to be much more accurate. But how can we trust the factual basis of this prediction (plus it costs more than a quarter).
Then there is the Magic 8 Ball, allegedly a child’s toy, that will give one an answer to any question. Was this the right question?
One can also get a prediction for the future from a fortune cookie. The cookie one gets is a truly random choice, as this fate is hidden inside a cookie. Perhaps the universe is telling us something? I guess I am looking for a sign.
And here it was, displayed on an official street department signboard. Well with a sign like that, the answer is clear. Turn around and go back to bed, it’s the safest prediction, at least for the immediate future. 😉
I think that most people wish that they knew what Fate has in store for them. And there are different ways to try and find this out.
When I was a young woman I did go with a friend to see a palm reader once. We were driving around aimlessly with a guy when we passed the fortune teller’s house, and my friend suddenly needed to know her fate. So she got the guy to pay the five dollars, and was told the usual sort of vague promises, while me and the guy giggled in the corner. I can’t remember if any of the predictions came true, but surely after all these years at least one of them must have. (You will meet a stranger, you will come into money, you will marry a guy, etc. etc.)
For a much more impersonal reading than from a live person, this machine would give your fate based on one’s astrological sign. And for only a penny! Surely the machine would know one’s fate.
Then there was this palm reader, which will work for only a quarter. The image shown is wearing a turban, so one can count on this reading being accurate.
Or would a yak be a more trustworthy fortune teller?
This guy has the crystal ball, tarot cards and the turban, so I assume this machine would be the most reliable predictor of one’s future. But I don’t know for sure because I put my quarters in the horse racing machine (I lost).
So I leave you, dear reader, with a few quotes about fate saved in my commonplace book: “there’s fate at the end of every story” and “knowing too much of your future is never a good thing”. Both are possibly true.
Or maybe this is the machine with the answers? (Your actual mileage may vary).
To be called a “cowtown” implies one of two things: either the town is located in a cattle raising area, or the town is small, isolated or unsophisticated. I choose to think that this city is a cowtown because we have the annual strolling of the cows through the downtown area (what could be more sophisticated?).
The event starts with a small herd of longhorn cattle, including the adorable babies.
The TV news babe was there to cover the event (this is the sort of assignment that they delegate to the interns) along with her cameraman. How was she to know that the news part of the story would be at the other end of the stroll?
Police were ready to escort the herd and stop traffic (the sirens were on low to avoid startling the cattle).
And they’re off! Strolling along a busy street (well it’s a busy street a few blocks from here).
At the end of the trail, near the final destination of cattle pens were these ancient activists, with their handmade bedsheet signs (how quaint, this reminds me of the 60’s).
Here the herd is approaching the end and are quite tightly bunched up. Because…
This cow had had enough, so she ran into the crowd (people can move quite quickly when they need to) and then she ran into the open door of a bank, closely pursued by a couple of cowboys on horseback. They got a lasso on her and she was led back to the trailers. Meanwhile, the person who took the video on her cellphone capturing this cow’s adventure made the news, both local and national (too bad for you, TV newsgirl). All in all it was excellent publicity for a amateur rodeo and the cows went home until next year.