Paws and Think About This

          It’s tough to predict the future, isn’t it? But I have a prediction I can positively guarantee.  For as long as you live, you will never see a police car that boasts having a cat inside.

          We’ve all seen the K-9 police cars around town, right? And inside, we know there’s a highly trained dog ready to follow commands, prevent crime, and basically be a super hero. But never will you see a car that has replaced K-9 with Feline.

          Can’t you just picture it? There’s a bank robber on the corner who starts running the minute he sees cops on his tail. But instead of a handy German Shepherd who can run like the wind to catch him, you now have a tabby cat who leaps from the car and heads straight up a tree. 

          Or falls over to roll around on the sidewalk.

          Or simply glares at you for suggesting he give chase. Ain’t gonna happen, my friend.

          And forget about drug sniffing. If catnip or tuna isn’t in those lockers, a cat will simply sit down and take a relaxing bath.

          I will acknowledge one possible benefit. A cat in the car is likely to commence howling, and this could replace a faulty siren. So there’s always that. 

I’m pretty sure cats would enjoy my books, however.  I mean, cats like mine who have a sense of humor.

A Bandage a Day...

          I think we can all agree that police tape has at least one use.  But now I’m thinking it can be re-purposed to wrap me up after all my recent surgeries.

          Seriously, I’ve had 3 things within 3 weeks.  First, right before Christmas, I went under anesthetic again so we could repair the incision from my recent breast cancer surgery, which didn't hold. I say “we” but I had nothing to do with it. Then we (again, the royal “we”) sanded my nose.

          “What?!” you say? Yes, I had basal cell cancer on the tip—of course the tip because evidently I’m part unicorn—and the stitches came out on that one, too. So it healed all lumpy and on Dec. 31^st we had dermabrasion to smooth it out and now I am again wearing a big, beautiful bandage in the center of my face. Hey, you celebrate New Years’ your way, I’ll do it my way.

          And THEN, because we just can’t get enough anesthetic, we had my arm pit lymph nodes removed on January 2nd. Each of these breast deals comes with a drain. I’m telling you, I have more port holes than a ship!

          And yet another bandage.  So, since there’s no tape that says, “Don’t Look Here” I’m thinking police tape could cover me nicely and accomplish the goal of keeping doctors away.  Certainly better than an apple, right?

To  see me without bandages, check out my YouTubeMom videos. Scroll through-- there are hundreds on my channel, and it’s a great way to spend a wintry afternoon!

Yet Another Career I’ll Never Have

          I think we can all agree that some jobs take more than training; they take innate ability.  For example, you could train to be a surgeon, but if you’re squeamish, you’ll faint and bomb out of that career.

          If you like to sing, but you simply don’t have the pipes, you will probably not become a recording artist.  (You might, however, get your 15 minutes of fame on a TV talent show.)

          Hence, someone with ADD should probably reconsider burglary as a profession. 

          Yesterday I read in the news that a burglar was caught after he broke into someone’s house, used their computer to visit his Facebook page, and then forgot to log out.  Ah, yes—no one ever said this was a job for geniuses only.

          I would imagine burglary might require a skill set I do not possess, not least of which is remembering to log out, should I suddenly decide to scroll through social media postings while I am at work (can’t you get fired for that?)  Picking locks and carrying heavy loot are also talents I lack, not to mention being willing to climb through spidery bushes.

         I would also have a tough time briskly walking past a kitchen table with a domed cake plate in the center of it.  What could be under there?  Could it be chocolate? And where do they keep the forks?

          I would also be a terrible police detective.  A stakeout in a parked car after about 10 pm would be out of the question—I’d fall asleep.  And I would no more walk down a dark alley after midnight than hit myself in the head with a hammer.  Criminals hang out in scary places where I have absolutely no interest in going.

          Unless I’m solving a crime in somebody’s home.  And then, of course, I’d check their computer and their cake plate.  Those are magnets for people who can’t stay on task.  Trust me.

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