The Tacho’d Endo
Monday, June 27, 2011
Taco v – a wheel bent over on itself, in the shape of a taco
Endo n – the maneuver of flying unexpectedly over the handlebars, thus being forcibly ejected from the bike; short for "end over end"
Greetings! – p.1
Spinning My Wheels – p.1
Cutler’s cyclizm – p.4
Ross’ Raiders for Heart – p.4
Ponderous Ponderings – p.5
A-V Club – p.5
Inside Joke – p.5
Parting Shot – p.6
Final Thoughts – p.6
Greetings!:
Welcome back to my Taoc’d Endo! Miss me? I did.
Well, if you recall, the last issue was solely dedicated to cycling and in-particular, my charity ride I take part in every summer, the Pedal 100 for Heart & Stroke.
I’ve already acquired about $100 already and thank to those who’ve donated to my cause. It is greatly appreciated.
Anyway, I have been very busy and distracted over the last month or so and therefore have not really had the time and/or energy to devote to my writing. But, I have been able to squeeze a few ideas in here and there, jotting them down when I have a moment.
Here is my latest little foray into this writing format – something that is very near and dear to me, my pets.
Article time …
Spinning My Wheels:
As many of you know, I am quite fond of animals and have had a few pets over the years.
First, there was Happy, my green budgie whom really only liked me and would only really let me get anywhere near her and carry her around. She was only with me for a few years, but she still made a lasting impression.
Next was Snoopy, my little tan coloured, brown eared and dark muzzled Heinz 57 mutt, with white toes and a tip of tail. He was only about knee high and as far as the pound knew was definitely part Terrier, Chihuahua and German Shepherd. Even though Snoopy was small, he had the calm, confident demeanor of a Shepherd, though and when he barked, you could almost feel that part of him trying get out of that knee high, Terrier sized body. There was a time when he was being harassed by an Afghan at the park one day and he’d had enough, turning on the far bigger dog and let it know he wouldn’t be bullied around anymore. He would try to snuggle in between myself and my then girlfriend, soon to be wife, trying to let her know that I was his, so he’d remind her of her place. After a few years, he eased up a bit, but would still do it every so often, just to remind her. He lived a good 15 ½ years before we finally had to let him go, just months after I had gotten married. His worsening vision and his hip problems, very common to German Shepherds, eventually caught up with him.
Then there was Fluffy. She wasn’t my cat, originally. She was my sister’s. Long story short, my sister wasn’t able to care for her, like she could have, so I adopted her. Fluffy would be lying on a kitchen chair and bat at Snoopy as he walked by and he looked at her then to me and would just resume walking, as if to say, “Whatever.” After a few years, it was eventually time to let her go, too. Fluffy was old when she came to stay with my Mom and I, and we enjoyed every moment, with her lying next to my pillow, flicking tail gently brushing my neck as I went to sleep. I’d sometimes wake up to her climbing on my chest, as she looked at me, purring in my face, wanting her breakfast. She was a lovely, multi-coloured fluffy little cat.
I can’t forget the little cat I picked up off of the street, in the middle of traffic one night, while delivering pizzas in college. I stopped the car in the middle of traffic, with the hazards on and got out to scoop her up. I wasn’t really home that often (working part time and going to school full time and girlfriend) and my mother wanted nothing to do with caring for cats, so after only a couple days, I took Merlin (as I called her, because of those cool bird like eyes of hers), the Tortoise Shell into the pound for them to find a home. I never checked up on that cat, but do so hope she found a good home.
Samantha next graced our doorstep. She came from my brother-in-law’s home where his wife and both kids were allergic to cats, especially long haired ones. Samantha was a white Turkish Angora that had one blue eye and one yellow eye. They say that cats with these kinds of eyes can have hearing and/or vision problems. Well, she definitely wasn’t deaf, as on more than one occasion, she would do her best cat cold shoulder, giving me the “I’m Ignoring You” routine. She did, however, have issues seeing in the dark. I didn’t realize it until one night when I looked down at Samantha and saw her looking at me with her one good eye, doing her best to see me in the dark. That was when I knew she couldn’t see in the dark so well, as only one eye was reflecting back, like those funky night vision eyes do. We found out that she liked to be carried around on my shoulder, as I realized AFTER my shirt was off one day. She was only with us for a few years before it was her time to move on, but she definitely made her mark, too.
Another little Tortoise Shell kitten came in to our lives 16 years ago and purred her way into our house. I often think if this is my second chance with Merlin. We went to the Humane Society one day and found out that one of the cats had thumbs. I of course had to see her, so we sat in the little room they have for meeting animals and she hopped and walked right over my wife’s lap, onto mine, with those great big mitts. She meowed and purred instantly, choosing me right away. We named her after the street the Humane Society picked her up on, Josephine Street. It was that, or Godzilla … I think we made the right choice. Josephine quickly crawled up into our hearts, as she was the first pet that the two of us went to get together. She wanted so much for Samantha to accept her and would always get beat down, only to get back up and try again – it took a couple of years for Samantha to accept her, but they were good buds after a fashion. Josephine was also very curious and even reached out to touch my wife’s tootsie pop with her big mitt once, that thumb of hers almost wrapping around it. I laughed very hard for a rather long time and still get a chuckle out of it from time to time. She always went with the flow and was never made anxious over change, just looking around to the new arrangement of furniture or checking out the new digs and just went with it – my kinda cat. Even when we went away for a few days or so, she would always come out to greet me and welcome me home, unlike some other cats I’ve seen and heard about – she was always just happy to have us home. However, that being said, she wasn’t too terribly crazy about seeing our son for the first time. We always knew she didn’t like loud noises, but this was driven home whenever we had him in the room with her at the same time, she’d simply leave. Or if she’d come in a room, with our son already in it, she’d look at him, twitch that one ear back, turn and leave. It took her probably six or seven years to get used to him … and of course, it took him that long to play quietly and be approachable, in her terms, too, of course. That being said, though, we found that Josephine had taken to checking out our son before she settled in for the night and this eventually led to her doing her rounds on the other rooms in the house, too – checking things out the ensure that all was good in the hood. Even though she couldn’t get near our newborn boy, the gentle, mothering side of her would check up on things, just to make sure all was right. Also, I might add, that I was the only one she would let pick up and hold for any real amount of time, her not trusting anyone else enough, as she draped herself over my shoulder, melting into my arm. She’d even climb over anybody else on the couch and walk over to my lap.
And now we have Twiggy, in our lives. We brought her into our home a few months after Samantha left us, to help keep Josephine company. Though my son would argue, Twiggy is definitely my wife’s cat, often climbing over me to get to her and that’s just fine. Twiggy is all black except for a little white mark on her chest, like a jewel hanging around her neck. In a certain light, it appears she isn’t purely black and has stripes – which is kinda cool. She was the runt of the litter, thus her name when a cat rescue society member brought her and her family (their mother included) in before the winter hit one year. We just had a health scare with her and with our vet’s kind help, we nursed her back to health.
But, I can’t forget Ranger, our dear, dopey little dork, with the silly grin. He’s a Border Collie, Coon Hound cross. Who knows what else is in there, but as we like to joke, he really didn’t get any of those dominant, positive traits you’d think that either of those dogs would have. He’s a black and white dog that many think is a Dalmation and enjoys practically lying on you when you’re on the floor with him. He has an upside down heart shape on one side, which we joke is why he can be so eeeevil sometimes – like when he’s left alone and eats a whole bag of hot dog buns or a whole bag of licorice, or rips a hole in the front drapes. So, yeah – he gets crated. I’ve spoken with many a trainer and vet about our little problem child, but they all say the same thing, that it sounds like he was damaged goods before we even got him and that transferring him back to the pound or to another home would only make matters worse. So, like with people, we just have to be patient with this little doum-ahs (say it a few times and fast, then you’ll get what that is). He’s good for sumpthin’ – we think. Kidding, he’s a really nice dog that was mis-treated before we even got a hold of him and now we must just have to do our best to care for him and be as patient as we can with him, hard as that is sometimes.
Anyway, these are the animals that have come through our doors, our lives and our hearts. They each have made their own indelible mark on us and we hope us, them – even though many say it is never the other way around, only their impression on us, since it is more often than not, that they choose us to be in their lives, not the other way ‘round. More animals will come through our doors in the years to come, of that I am sure. I am also sure that we will love them and care for them as best as we can.
And with that, I must say that we had to let our dear Josephine go today and I am writing this as my own little coping mechanism – to get it out there and off my immediate mind, but never my heart. She hadn’t been eating right and we noticed a little lump under her chin, so we switched her solely to canned food, just to get some food into her, but there wasn’t much we could do, except to make her final days as comfortable as possible. We’re sure there was more wrong going on in her that we couldn’t see that was slowly taking our dear little cat.
Below is a poem I wrote today, to say good-bye to my little Thumblina …
Thank-you Spleen:
Thank-you for having such great big thumb filled mittens
and being the most adorable of all those kittens.
Thank-you for hopping up for a cuddle,
and turning my heart into a puddle.
Thank-you for being found on Josephine Street,
so that we could eventually meet.
Thank-you for allowing us to name you Josephine,
so that we could rhyme it with Jose-Spleen.
Thank-you for eating my Doritos by my ear,
with that purring/crunching sound so dear.
Thank-you for melting in my arms,
and showing me all of your charms.
Thank-you, Josephine, for choosing me,
and now, my dear, I must set you free.
Thank-you for letting us love you,
and for you loving us, too.
Thank-you for letting only me rest you on my arm,
keeping you up and out of the away from harm.
Thank-you for being my cat,
I so really appreciate that.
Thank-you, my dear friend,
and it appears that this is the end.
Good-bye my little mitten kitten.
S. Ross Cutler.
Mon.Jun.27.11
CUTLERS’s Cyclizm:
I’ve started my road training now, for the Pedal 100 and enjoyed a nice ride out to Queenston Heights and back the other day. Next? I dunno, I’ll have to check the schedule I’ve set out.
Lake to Lake Classic and Pond to Pond – My son and myself, along with two other of his friends completed the little version of the big race in just over an hour, this past Father’s Day, on Sunday, June 19th and it was a great day, too. Every so often, I would get just a little caught up in the race mentality and look back to see the boys almost a hundred metres behind. Since I was out there to escort them, I slowed down each time to allow them to catch up. And all three have said that they are looking forward to riding next year’s race. I look forward to it. Thanks for coming out, guys!
Ross’ Raiders for Heart :
Fliers for the Pedal 100 for Heart & Stroke are now ready for pick-up!
I would like to ask you to consider joining myself and a few repeat offenders to come on out and ride with us.
However, regardless of how much farther you read, if you do not ride or volunteer, I ask if you would care to sponsor me for my ride.
It’s a beautiful ride through Niagara Wine Country, starting and finishing at Henley Island, in Port Dalhousie, St. Catharines.
There are four routes to choose from (30, 60, 100 & 160 km). Be a part of my team and ride the most suitable length you feel most comfortable with in lovely, scenic Western Niagara. I’ve cycled the 160km route before and would love to ride the distance that most suits what I feel I’ve earned, but as I’ve explained, my bad knee didn’t favour it last year, so I’ll just stick to the 100km length.
And afterward, we will toast the event with a glass of local Niagara wine after the ride!
I have ridden this charity event now for the last nine years, which is a part of the Heart & Stroke Foundation of Canada.
If you would care to sponsor me for this ride, please let me know. I would love to take your money … for a good cause. I’m also part of the route planning committee, so yes, I am more than just a rider and fund raiser – this cause is very important to me.
Heart disease and stroke have affected both sides of my family tree and so, I do what I can, in what little way I know to make a difference.
If you can’t ride, then prehaps volunteer - be a part of this beautiful ride through the countryside. But ride whichever one best suits you and maybe challenge yourself to increase the distance next year, if you like, of course.
Either way, please let me know. I’d love to see you involved somehow.
Ponderous Ponderings:
"The purity of a person's heart can be quickly measured by how they regard animals." ~ anonymous
"Who can believe that there is no soul behind those luminous eyes!" ~ Theophile Gautier.
A-V Club:
These are just some of the inspirational pieces of videos and/or music that make me wanna either hum along softly or crush the pedals when I’m out for a bike ride.
First the cats …
And now the dawgs …
Inside Joke:
Q: Did you hear about the cat who swallowed a ball of wool?
A: She had mittens.
Q: What happens when it rains cats and dogs?
A: You can step in a poodle!
Parting Shot:
And those that say animals have no soul, have truly never allowed one into theirs.
Final Thoughts:
Don’t be afraid to let an animal into your heart and home. That being said, if you do feel that you can’t, then simply don’t. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s better to know your pet boundaries, than dive in and drown in them, more often than not, at their expense. Not everyone has room in their lives and/or homes for an animal … Instead, just enjoy a friends or neighbours when you see them. Your friend and their pet will appreciate it – even if they don’t realize it.
Cheers!
S. Ross Cutler.
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Have a nice day and enjoy your ride!
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