There have. The Japanese short tail gene is recessive. The Manx short tail gene is dominant. Both of these genes are common in their named areas of "origin" but have also been observed to occur spontaneously in other populations. Additionally, other novel mutations for short tails have occurred, but none that are currently known to be wide-spread enough to be studied.
You are so readable that I hope you will be posting daily.Today I finally visited Buki, an all black cat who has regretfully been a long time resident of a pet shelter that's outside Kingman, Arizona.
The tarts I made last Friday night for delivery to the shelter volunteers on Saturday did not come with me. Since fresh fruit is highly perishable, I took the tarts to my new insurance agent on Monday. Although I'll continue to work in Nevada, I'm actually moving across the Colorado River into Arizona. Since I needed insurance for the new home, I decided to save some money by bundling the coverage for my car with home owner's insurance. By doing this, I wound up saving $200 per year AND was also to upgrade my policy so that if anything happens to my vehicle, I can have the use of a rental car for no extra charge.
Since I felt a bit guilty about not having an edible gift for the shelter manager, I made a vegan dish last night. Pictured below clockwise from the back left: Salvadorian refried beans (which are made with kidney beans and not pinto beans as they are in the states). I used canned kidney beans WITH the liquid and boiled them until the liquid had evaporated. I then mashed them, cooled them to room temperature, mixed them with garlic powder and ground cumin and then pan fried them folding them over and over until they thickened and started to darken. Proceeding clockwise ... steamed broccoli and then mujadara which is a Lebanese rice dish that's made by mixing steamed white rice with cooked lentils and a LOT of caramelized onion. For this recipe, I used 3 cups of cooked steamed whit rice with 8 oz. of boiled (and drained) lentils and 1 1/2 pounds of sliced onions. The onions were slow cooked in a big frying pan in olive oil for about 30 minutes. I cooked them until they literally started to turn brown and then poured the onions (with olive oil) into the rice. I stirred in lentils and added garlic powder and salt to taste. To the left of the mujadara are grilled sweet potatoes which I parboiled and finished on a grill iron.
I boxed two portions for Cherie, the owner and manager of the shelter. In retrospect I think this was a better choice than the tarts because the tarts were not vegan friendly. Although I didn't ask, I would be surprised if the shelter manager was not at least a vegetarian given what she does for a living.
In addition to the boxed food, I took two bags of cat food that my cats have REFUSED TO EAT. I took a 20 lb. bag of new cat food, two bags of kitty litter, an assorted case of various brands of canned cat food (that my cats have also refused to eat) and a one pound container of Temptation brand kitty treats.
The drive to Kingman was much less harrowing this time as I took Arizona 46 instead of Route 66.
Would you believe that during the 20's, the highway section that passes through Oatman (which I wrote about in my first post) was considered so harrowing and so dangerous that there were people in the local community who made a living out of driving cars along this 15 mile stretch? This section of Route 66, known as Oatman Highway, rises to 3,550 feet above sea level and is still considered one of the MOST DANGEROUS roads in the world. Anyone who wanted a local driver could pull into an off road stop at the north and south base of each section. For a modest fee, the local would drive the car along the narrow winding roads along the edge of sheer cliffs which even today still have almost nothing in the way of guard rails.
As if the road wasn't bad enough, back in the 20's, drivers of Model T vehicles had to drive their cars BACKWARDS to traverse Oatman Highway. I am told that were sections of the road that were so steep that vehicles would stall because the fuel couldn't reach the carburetor. The only solution to this was to DRIVE BACKWARDS through hairpin turns and along soaring rock faces and sheer drops.
Here is a picture I found through the National Archives. It was taken around 1913. Keep in mind that this was BEFORE this road became Route 66. Notice that it's NOT PAVED. Route 66 didn't open until 1921 so this section would not have been paved until 1919 or 1920.
Instead of stressing myself out by having to drive along Route 66, I took Highway 46 into Kingman. Not only was this route fast (with a speed limit of 65 miles per hour but it was also a lot safer.
I used my GPS to find Peggy Sue's Diner and then followed Cherie's directions for finding her shelter. I drove down two long stretches of nearly empty rural roads until I reached the north end of Route 66.
Most of the way to the shelter was pleasantly flat.
One mile short of the shelter, I saw rolling hills rising into the distance. My heart sank. I really didn't want to drive up the Oatman Highway because if I had misunderstood Cherie's directions, there would be NO PLACE to turn around until I reached Oatman. I'd be stuck on "the highway of death" which is apparently the colorful name used for this stretch of highway by the locals.
At the foot of the rising road, I found this tiny gas station and I was so nervous about having to drive up into hills that I wanted to use a restroom.
Take a look at the restroom. This isn't a joke. This was the actual restroom.
This restroom was perched next to a cliff and was only walled (if you could call it that) on three sides. The open end faced the cliff. Even though there was no one on the road, I had privacy issues with using this restroom. I decided to "hold it."
True to her word, the Luv for Paws shelter was just past the mile 33 marker. Since the shelter had no sign, I wasn't sure if I was at the right place.
I stopped near a big outdoor kennel filled with dogs who all started barking at me. I was not reassured by the sign on the wall. Can you read the sign. It says, "NO TRESPASSING. VIOLATORS WILL BE SHOT! SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN!"
Before I could throw the car into reverse, I was approached by a smiling older woman who was thankfully unarmed. The woman turned out to be Cherie, the owner and shelter manager.
Cherie took me on a tour of her facility which consists of a couple of small mobile homes and a large barn like building that was subdivided into two distinct community cat areas.
The cat areas were centered and the surrounding walls were filled with all sorts of supplies ... bags of kitty litter, dried food, canned food, medication, and cleaning supplies etc.
Buki was in the community area on the far side away from the front of the building. He was napping on the bottom tier on a blue and white blanket. There were about 7-8 cats in each of these community areas and they were all quite clean. Dried food and water were available in abundance. A lot of the cat furniture had a homemade look to it. I really liked the "bunk beds" that were in the neighboring center. The open doors provided fresh air and sunlight and since we were up in the foothills, there was even a nice cool breeze blowing through the shelter.
While Cherie collected Buki, another black cat pawed in my direction. I extended a hand for the cat to sniff. The cat then began to gently lick my finger before suddenly CHOMPING ON IT. The nip was painful but the cat intended no harm otherwise he would have punctured my skin. As it was he began batting at me with a paw and I responded by batting back at him ... careful to avoid his paws. Cherie warned me to be careful because this particular cat had a bit of an "attitude."
Buki did not want to be woken from his nap. He mewed in protest but was comforted by Cherie. In time his muffled protests gave way to purrs and it was only when he was purring that she put him in my arms.
With Buki's upper paws draped over my left shoulder, I held him for about a minute while he continued to purr. I don't know if he was purring because he was happy for the attention or if he was purring because we had stressed him out. When he started pushing against my chest, I realized that it was time to let him go and I carefully returned him to his tier where he promptly ignored me, returning to his blanket for a nap.
Surprisingly enough, not all of the kitties were in the building. Cherie's office as used as an overflow for additional cats. Cats with feline AIDs were segregated in an outdoor enclosure and other cats with leukemia were also kept apart from the main population.
In addition to all of these cats was yet another outdoor enclosure that held the overflow who could not fit into the existing shelters. One of the cats I really liked was this orange cat named Uncle Billy. I liked Uncle Billy because he was very friendly. He waved his paw at me and talked incessantly. He looks a bit like my Bobby Cat but he's younger, he's larger, and he has a full tail.
I was thinking about taking Uncle Billy but Cherie was quick to point out that with his personality, Uncle Billy could easily find a home. The cats she worried about were the black ones because no one in the local area seems to like black cats.
I think black cats are awesome ... and as much as I liked the talkative orange cat, I agreed to take Buki on a trial basis.
"You won't regret this," promised Cherie.
When i asked what the adoption fee was, she told me $80 but also told me that she'd waive the fee since I have been contributing gifts of food, bedding, kitty litter, toys, and money to the shelter each month since last December.
"But you could use the money, couldn't you?" I asked.
"Yessssss ..." said Cherie.
"Then take the money. It's the least I can do."
Since I am not moving until April 15th, I told Cherie that I couldn't take Buki until the last week of April at the earliest. She promised to hold on to him for me ... so we will see what happens.
Buki is a gorgeous cat and he seems to be quite dignified. Although I do like cats who talk, I was sorry to learn that several of the black cats in residence at the shelter have been there for YEARS. Other cats have come and gone but the black cats have remained ... and since Luv for Paws is a no-kill shelter, each cat who can't be adopted is taking up space that could otherwise be occupied by another abandoned cat or stray.
I like the fact that Buki was in a community cat shelter because this means that he's used to interacting with other cats. Since cats are like people in that we all have different likes and dislikes and personalities, it remains to be seen as to whether or not Buki will be able to fit into my household.
If he can ... well and good. He will have his forever home ... but if not, I will have the option of returning him.
We shall see what happens.
Wow! That was your FIRST ATTEMPT? They look great!
I'm not autistic at all, but I still can't stand even moderately spicy foods (Pizza Hut Pizza, for instance, with or without pepperoni). I'm in my 60s now, but when I was middle aged I could still hear bats echo locating. And I also have problems with food texture. Specifically, I can't stand mushy food, like yogurt, cooked oatmeal, pudding, mashed potatoes. Apparently this one is a result of my congenital anosmia (inability to smell). At some point very early in my life, some part of my mind decided that if it was too soft, it must be spoiled, and I'm unable to override that feeling. It drove my mother crazy when I was a kid, as she liked to make oatmeal for us as a special breakfast treat, and worked extremely hard to mash the the potatoes up properly to get rid of all the lumps, and I couldn't explain to her what the problem was because I didn't know. Food can be soft, it just has to have some texture to it. I have no problems with bananas, for instance, or applesauce, and I mash avocados up with salt and lime juice, but I don't work really hard to get rid of lumps.
All of my cookbooks are vegan. I will PM you.
@DC1346 is there any chance that one of those 5 cookbooks is a vegan one?? If so, I'd LOVE to buy one.
I recognize many of those books!
Maybe shelters should begin pointing this out to people. Yes, I know you were joking, but it's exactly the kind of argument that would appeal to people who think black means unlucky.
I'm glad to hear things look promising with Buki, he deserves a loving home. My sister fosters dogs for a shelter in New York, she says it's the same with black dogs. No one wants to adopt them either. I can't imagine why, black cats and dogs are so slimming if you hold them up against you.
Thanks for sharing the pictures of wax food. I particularly liked the pasta. I remember seeing wax food displays at some restaurants when I was in Japan but this was a long time ago. Aside from passing through the international airport to catch connecting flights elsewhere, I actually haven't been in Japan since 1970. I was last there during Expo '70, a world's fair that was held in Suita, Osaka. My father took me there for Spring Break. We were stationed in Thailand at the time.
I didn't really care for the Expo. It was CROWDED and getting there required getting on a train that was so crowded we were literally pressed against other people. There were these railroad employees oshiya in blue jackets with white gloves who literally pushed us onto the train, physically forcing other people back so that the doors could close. It was not a pleasant ride. On the brighter side, at the end of the day, my father took us to a restaurant where I got to try unagi don (eel) which was absolutely delicious.
Regarding the pictures of the pasta with the fork, I bet I could do something similar. I'd have to use something like the flexible stem of a pipe cleaner though to support the wax and I'd probably have to use a silicone mold to shape the pasta. I wonder if I could turn this into a candle? Or maybe not ... the plastic could melt and using a real fork would make the sculpture too heavy unless I used thin wire. I will have to think about this. I do enjoy a technical challenge.
I once made soap on a chopstick. There's a product called soap on a rope that I first encountered during the 70's. It's basically soap that's attached to a thick cord that's intended to go over your wrist so that you don't drop the soap while you're showering.
Instead of soap on a rope, I made soap on a chopstick which I then put inside a Chinese to-go box. Pictured below was a prototype I made. If I had to do this over, I'd add baby corn and mushrooms. I've made silicone molds for each. I also have a nice ginger fragrance that I could blend with lettuce and bacon ... and yes, I said bacon. There is actually a bacon fragrance that's made for soap and candles.
Ogden Nash's daughters are apparently keeping his books in copyright. I can't blame them, much as I regret it for my own sake.
