Introducing Teddy, cat

     A month or so ago, my friend Kathie was working at an animal shelter somewhere in the "Inland Empire," and she came across a lovable young cat who was confined to a small cage. He readily responded to Kathie's affection.

     The cat had a cold or some other minor ailment, and so, as per the shelter's policy, he was slated for euthanizing. Well, Kathie couldn't have that, and so she adopted him.

     But she's already got three cats (and three dogs!). I suggested that I take him.

     Well, the long and short of it is that she brought me "Teddy" on Saturday. He's a large male cat, perhaps two years old (I think he's younger). I'm guessing he weighs about 10 pounds. He's a burly cat sans the bruiser attitude. He's also a bit of a teddy bear, hence the name.

     On arrival, he was freaked out, and though he seemed to love Kathie, he generally regarded me as monstrous or dangerous, though he would permit my presence for as long as Kathie was cooing nearby.

     So it's been six days now, and, still, I can interact with him only while planted firmly on the ground. A standing Roy is a threatening one.

     But that's OK. He seems to want me to play with him—as long as I remain on the ground. He chases the usual goofy fuzzy objects. He loves being brushed. He loses himself in kittenish play.

     So far so good.

     Owing to his skittishness, I haven't been able to take any good pictures of the boy. The guy tends to remain in hiding.

     Aha! Just a few minutes ago, he climbed atop my stereo, here in the main room, which is a good four feet from the ground and affords a fine view of the outdoors—and of me. That he climbed up there in my presence represents quite a milestone for the young man. 

     I snapped the photos below.

He was sayin' somethin', not sure what

Uh-oh

A Disease Without a Cure Spreads Quietly in the West (New York Times)
Excerpt:

     The infection [valley fever], which the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has labeled “a silent epidemic,” is striking more people each year, with more than 20,000 reported cases annually throughout the Southwest, especially in California and Arizona. Although most people exposed to the fungus do not fall ill, about 160 die from it each year, with thousands more facing years of disability and surgery. About 9 percent of those infected will contract pneumonia and 1 percent will experience serious complications beyond the lungs.