Samuel (Again)

And finally, the patriarch of our local clan, Samuel. Samuel visits us fairly often and usually remains offscreen, as noted in Feasting Raccoons and an Offscreen Samuel and More Feasting Raccoons and Samuel Still Offscreen.

Samuel’s been with us for several years now. In the ways of Coyote, he’s a grand old man.

Which saddens me. Us. More me than us.

Canis has been my friend since childhood. I see our current OverLord, Boo, aging and know he, like all things good and bad, will be no more. In this reality, anyway.

We use to keep things alive through stories around a campfire, drawings on cave walls, StoryTellers and StoryKeepers, Traveling Minstrels, Town Criers, through print and now to what can be held in the palm of one’s hand.

But not quite.

I shake my head when I see people with their mobiles practically glued to their palms.

What can be so important?

And many people, especially more now than ever before, have little to no inner lives.

I remember listening to a writer offer she wasn’t introspective at all when asked a question regarding her thoughts on something.

My first thought was “No wonder your characters are so shallow.”

I will mourn when Samuel passes. When Boo passes.

And I wonder, who will mourn my passing? Susan’s?

Will the Universe slow for a moment? Will the stars dim?

No.

Except for those in true friends’ hearts.

 

It was a dark and stormy night

Welcome to Chez Carrabis, the only wildlife 24×7 in our neighborhood.

This night, this scene, reminds me of my days long-haul trucking. No matter the weather or time of day, rack up the miles, deliver the goods, pickup the next load for backhauling.

I (and most others I knew back in the day) preferred traveling at night. Less traffic. Staties pretty much knew who we were (we had regular routes) and would let us pass by way over the posted limit.

I remember meeting one fellow who told me he clocked 120mph+ on the Queen Victoria from Montreal to Toronto and down onto Detroit.

Wow (on so many levels).

My personal best was Sydney, Nova Scotia, to Washington, DC in 17 hours. This was before the Trans-Canada went to Sydney and, if you remember the roads back then, you’ll appreciate I was low altitude flying.

When we did stop (rarely), it was in midnight diners that catered to long-haulers.

Made some good friends. Excellent teachers, they. A few years later the CB craze started and the air got polluted so we found other ways to talk to each other.

And a bit after that, I was completely out of the game.

Sad, but I still remember those good times, good friends, and good diners.

Eat hearty, all.

 

Fat and Sassy

The families return.

This middle fall visit thrilled us because…

Because we’re easy. Especially when it comes to The Wild. Show us Old Ones of any stripe or form and we’re there for them.

Probably faster than we would be for most Two-Leggers we know.

Sad, that.

Much like Jules Verne’s Captain Nemo of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea fame, we’ve found interactions with our own species less than optimal and often less than minimal.

Not so with The Wild. I’ve walked among wolves and bears, been close to mountain cats, never a worry.

Smile incorrectly at a Two-Legger?

All hell breaks lose.

It would be great victim mentality if I thought the fault was mine.

But I’ve given up doing so.

 

An Anonymous Young Lad

It’s been a while since Skunk visited us. The last confirmed visit was Clarence of Be Cool, Clarence fame.

Prior to Clarence’s nocturnal joy-bringing…or wafting…depends on direction, I suppose…our last visits were from Larry (seen dining with Boris below)

 
and prior to that, Ferdinand (seen dining with Gracie below)

 
The images above are from 3 Oct 2011 and 3 Oct 2012 respectively.

It doesn’t seem that long ago.

They are, I know, long past into history, kept alive in memory, and shared with you here that you may keep them alive after I’m gone.

And some day, soon I know, we’ll learn this young lad’s name and keep him alive in memory as well.

I wonder…will you remember me? And what will those memories say of me?

It’s not a vain question, not driven by ego. I often explore my and others’ memories. Take a snapshot of what people collected at any moment in time, what they chose to remember via physical artifact, and you know who they were at that moment in time.

Fascinating, don’t you think?

Meanwhile, an anonymous young lad.

 

Stealth Treats

Sometimes you gots to be sneaky.

Sometimes you gots to be quiet and gentle.

Sometimes you gots to blend into the background and make your appearance slowly and delicately.

That way, you’re noticed slowly and on the others’ terms.

It’s always good to integrate yourself with others on their terms, not your terms.

Not at first.

Then, once accepted, you can find out if your terms are acceptable.

Remember to keep your term negotiable. Often it’s better to merge systems, to synthesize, to let the whole become greater than the sum of its parts.