Thursday, February 25, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
My Cat has Emphysema
Moses Saga Part 17 I took Moses back to the vet today to get a shot because of his runny nose and weight loss. He wasn't breathing well to be frank. He was immobile and plain mean when you moved him. I know he's just old and crotchity and smokes too much. The vet told me he needs to stop or a tumor will continue to develop in his nasal cavities. He also smokes in the house! I think. He's been sneezing and coughing for a couple months. As for the cigarettes, I know when I'm not looking he must always have one lingering in his mouth, with a plume of smoke engulfing his tabby, hairy face. It's a mockery of the rules in the house! The vet told him enough was enough—also, for him to stop drinking so much. We checked to see if he had diabetes. He's always drinking and smoking, and I'm certain of this.
As the appointment dragged on, we all sat down to talk to Moses about this but he just looked off in space like he had no interest. I could tell in his yellow eyes he was thinking about a cigarette. I've tried to get him to stop before, but he sneaks off when I'm busy doing something in the house. I don't know where he goes, but I know he is smoking. I'm not sure where he gets these packs of cigarettes. There must be a rogue animal supplying him. So at the vet, we discussed our options: to put him to sleep or get him to stop smoking.
Moses continued to look off into space, no matter how hard I pleaded with him to look at me and take me seriously. He nuzzled my hand, but I took it away. I thought psychologically it would be best for him if I didn't enable any kind of affection. What he is doing is wrong. He's breaking my heart and he needs to stop. I remember the days of long ago when I had to watch his every move (because we lived in a small apartment in Boston). He would sit on the stairwell playing with the pigeons, making friends, and staying sober. I began to tear up with these memories until finally I got him to pay attention when I gave him a heartfelt hug. He meowed when I squeezed him tight, and I know that was a sure sign that he would stop smoking. He's on a patch now and on the road to recovery.
As the appointment dragged on, we all sat down to talk to Moses about this but he just looked off in space like he had no interest. I could tell in his yellow eyes he was thinking about a cigarette. I've tried to get him to stop before, but he sneaks off when I'm busy doing something in the house. I don't know where he goes, but I know he is smoking. I'm not sure where he gets these packs of cigarettes. There must be a rogue animal supplying him. So at the vet, we discussed our options: to put him to sleep or get him to stop smoking.
Moses continued to look off into space, no matter how hard I pleaded with him to look at me and take me seriously. He nuzzled my hand, but I took it away. I thought psychologically it would be best for him if I didn't enable any kind of affection. What he is doing is wrong. He's breaking my heart and he needs to stop. I remember the days of long ago when I had to watch his every move (because we lived in a small apartment in Boston). He would sit on the stairwell playing with the pigeons, making friends, and staying sober. I began to tear up with these memories until finally I got him to pay attention when I gave him a heartfelt hug. He meowed when I squeezed him tight, and I know that was a sure sign that he would stop smoking. He's on a patch now and on the road to recovery.
Monday, February 8, 2010
My Abstract for the Graduate Research Symposium at WCU
Paula Michele Bolado
Wulfert Road and the Alligators: Turning Fear into Respect for Sanibel Island’s Natural Ecology
“Wulfert Road and the Alligators: Turning Fear into Respect for Sanibel Island’s Natural Ecology,” a creative nonfiction piece, describes the incredible natural beauty of Sanibel Island, Florida from the perspective of a young precocious girl. While walking home from the bus stop on her ninth birthday, singing and dancing along the way, she suddenly is confronted with the “Marlon Brando” of all gators, a marvelous twelve footer in the road. “Alligators usually were what all the kids cared about most because they have incited curiosity and fear in the hearts of many on and off the island.”
Thematically, her fear of the beast grows into a healthy respect for all the oddities of the island, including spiders and panthers. However, the young girl shows how fear can serve as another reason to control the unknown: development, a tragic consequence for 800 acres of Sanibel’s ecosystem and habitat of animals, birds, and creepy crawlers surrounding Wulfert Road. The endangered woods have been replaced with golf courses and stucco homes, proving developers can wipe out an entire ecosystem due to their fear of the unknown, the unexplored, and the unadmired.
The idea of this piece is to express how a child can see the world of Wulfert Road and the alligators, partly with fear, mostly with wonder, and making peace with it all. She does this with heightened sensory details, where one can smell the salty bayou and oysters and almost touch a heron’s wing: “One night, I saw the largest great blue heron wading in low tide by the dock. It peered out to me through the knees of the mangroves. I watched it lift one leg and then the other, like a ballerina, over the mud and oysters. I couldn’t help myself, so I crawled into the mangroves to get close to the five foot high dancer. It was so beautiful I wanted to run my fingers across its oily grey feathers. But as I neared, the heron took off like a great glorious blue plane.”
Wulfert Road and the Alligators: Turning Fear into Respect for Sanibel Island’s Natural Ecology
“Wulfert Road and the Alligators: Turning Fear into Respect for Sanibel Island’s Natural Ecology,” a creative nonfiction piece, describes the incredible natural beauty of Sanibel Island, Florida from the perspective of a young precocious girl. While walking home from the bus stop on her ninth birthday, singing and dancing along the way, she suddenly is confronted with the “Marlon Brando” of all gators, a marvelous twelve footer in the road. “Alligators usually were what all the kids cared about most because they have incited curiosity and fear in the hearts of many on and off the island.”
Thematically, her fear of the beast grows into a healthy respect for all the oddities of the island, including spiders and panthers. However, the young girl shows how fear can serve as another reason to control the unknown: development, a tragic consequence for 800 acres of Sanibel’s ecosystem and habitat of animals, birds, and creepy crawlers surrounding Wulfert Road. The endangered woods have been replaced with golf courses and stucco homes, proving developers can wipe out an entire ecosystem due to their fear of the unknown, the unexplored, and the unadmired.
The idea of this piece is to express how a child can see the world of Wulfert Road and the alligators, partly with fear, mostly with wonder, and making peace with it all. She does this with heightened sensory details, where one can smell the salty bayou and oysters and almost touch a heron’s wing: “One night, I saw the largest great blue heron wading in low tide by the dock. It peered out to me through the knees of the mangroves. I watched it lift one leg and then the other, like a ballerina, over the mud and oysters. I couldn’t help myself, so I crawled into the mangroves to get close to the five foot high dancer. It was so beautiful I wanted to run my fingers across its oily grey feathers. But as I neared, the heron took off like a great glorious blue plane.”
Monday, February 1, 2010
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