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McVey-Simmons
7582 NW 74th Avenue
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MIAMI, FL 33166
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Robert Simmons
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OCTOBER 2009: “Bats in the Baño?”
(NOTE: Newcomers, who'd like to get an idea of what this site is all about, would be well-advised to click on "2005 Pages" and read that introduction. Enjoy!)
Cats 1—Bats 0.
After four years that's the score. The cats (I don't know which one) have caught only one bat, despite some heroic efforts; like the time Tipper leapt five-feet high. How do I know it was five feet? Because TC was closing the terrace doors and Tipper passed behind her head.
I didn't see Tipper's latest leap, but I heard the landing..."Kerplash!"...in the pool!
TC was in the States, I was deliquescing on the couch, and it was just past twilight when I heard a strange noise from outside my TV Ears (Google 'em; they're great). When I looked around, the dogs were also looking around. So, I got up and nearly killed myself when I slipped in a puddle of water on the terrace (unfortunately, our tile gets very slick when wet).
"What the f**K!?!?" (Sorry, but I get emotional when my life is threatened.)
After I recovered, I saw Tipper hightailing it down the terrace, little wet paw prints marking her flight. It didn't take a Sherlock to figure out what had happened, especially when I found more prints coming from the pool: Tipper took a dunk. (Boy, I would give anything for a video of that...)
Oh, it's not the first time Tipper's gone swimming. When we first moved in we vacuumed the pool while standing in it. Well, one time unbeknownst to me (I had my back to her), Tipper was investigating the vacuum hose, coiled on the deck, when I gave it a mighty tug, pulling the hose and the cat into the water. I never knew cats could walk...better make that run on water.
I guess partly due to that, and because Tipper is a hot cat—her metabolism is stuck on eleven—she's had this love-angst where the pool is concerned. For instance, she loves being petted with wet hands while we're in the water, but the waves we make freak her out. And, a little after her latest dip, that's probably why she came to me for succor. She'd already done a very thorough job drying herself, and what little she had missed I rubbed dry, but the time she spent on my chest was wonderful because she rarely comes to me. TC is always Tipper's first choice.
As I've said before, Tipper's in-training to be human.
In August, the girl's had a beach week. I'm pretty sure TC was the instigator, although I'm also fairly certain she had several amiable and more-than-willing accomplices. Anyway, their plan was a week at Villa Marina, the quaint "hotel" by the sea on the tip of the Azuero peninsula where TC's stayed before, with and without me. This visit, however, was strictly "women only", no phoney-baloney husbands, or boyfriends, nor males of any stripe, unless of course, a young, strapping Panamanian pool boy...or girl as the case may be.
At any rate, the girl's trip constitutes our first gallery, though probably a gallery of more interest to the participants than the rest of us—I'll try to keep the conversation lively. Also, there were three photographers; you can see who shot what by looking at the headers: tc, barb or jeannette. So, for what it's worth, click on the picture...and away we go!
Barb Franzen started this—it's her fault: traveling "game nights" wherein the host supplies the house, ice, and pop corn, while gamers bring whatever they want to play, to imbibe, or to augment snacks with. Although, I will admit that some hosts opt for snacks a little less greasy than popped corn, as no one wants butter on their Backgammon board.
Well, when TC got back from Beach Week, it was finally our turn to provide the house. We'd begged off a time or two due to a lack of illumination—mine as well as the house, but installing light fixtures in three terrace fans solved the problem. Which meant, it was time to suffer the invasion. (I swear I threw those fixtures out...)
Be that as it may, our next group of pix is a rogues' gallery of all the usual suspects, and a few unusual ones, too. Click the photo to see for yourself...
Okay, that brings us to our last gallery...I'll wait until the applause dies down. "Jerks!"
As per usual, the last is our Casa Ingaso gallery, a quick peek into the odd behavior that passes for "normal" around here. This time I thought I'd start with a very pleasing photo of TC, since all too often your senses have been assaulted by horrific mug shots of yours truly. "You're welcome."
So, once again, click on that smiling face and enjoy!
And that's all, folks! If you don't add me to your spam filter's black list, I'll be back in a month or two with more of what you need to know about Casa Ingaso.
“¡Hasta luego, Amigos!”
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