Category: Critters

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 27, 20219:50 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Sweetie

On the same block where live (self-relocated) Reddy and his (self-adopted) mate Zero, my wife and I spied a striking Tortoiseshell today. The kitty unsuccessfully tried to come over a wooden gate for pats, which would have allowed me to read her name tag, as well. The tortie returned to a door step, where I got an acceptable portrait by peeking around a fence from an adjacent apartment building parking lot.

I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image, which is nearly a 100-percent crop. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/156 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 4:16 p.m. PDT. While seemingly a contrite choice, this beauty earns nickname Sweetie for colors that remind me of a chocolate-covered peanut butter cup (e.g. Reese’s).

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 20, 20219:04 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Carrot

As my wife and I walked along Georgia yesterday, two kitties presented from different buildings looking out at birds. I could only get a portrait of the second, somewhere between Howard and either Polk or Lincoln—not sure which. As usual, I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image, at 9:29 a.m. PDT. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm.

This fine feline earns nickname Carrot for the orange patches—particularly on the head. His (or her) portrait is a compromised crop, for: the poorly-placed palm trees grudgingly used to frame the photo; the management company sign removed by recomposition. Carrot is the series‘ seventy-first cat seen behind door or window.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 19, 20218:41 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Georgy

Last night, approaching El Cajon from Georgia—on my way to shoot The Boulevard sign—I passed by a ginger lounging upon grass. The fluffer came out to visit, during which time I unsuccessfully tried to capture several good portraits; sun set 15 minutes earlier, and I needed more ambient light, or narrower aperture, for less noise and wider depth of field.

Only after the kitty got his fill of pats and returned to the property from whence it came could I get something usable. The angle makes the cat look unflatteringly flabby, when it is furry and fit; big paws reveal a naturally husky boy; hence, the nickname. I manually focused Leica Q2 to take the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture and shutter speed manually set: f/1.7, ISO 6400, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 8:14 p.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 17, 20219:18 pm

He Wants You to Celebrate Freedom

The Wilcox family lived nearly 10 years in our old apartment, located in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. Except briefly for one or two bad rain storms, the small window by the front door stayed […]

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 16, 20218:18 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Plush

I strongly debated whether or not to include this kitty, who looked onto the alley separating Louisiana and Mississippi between El Cajon and Meade. But lighting was optimal on the grey’s perch and unlikely to ever be better; the Featured Image is about as good as I’ll ever get. And the face is so damn cute, this sweetie could be a stuffed animal. Hence, nickname Plush. You will want to click through and enlarge the photo; sometimes not-so-good portraiture is good enough because the subject is so becoming.

Plush is the series‘ seventieth cat sitting behind door or window. The cropped, and aggressively edited, portrait comes from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm, 9:27 a.m. PDT, June 14, 2021.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 10, 20219:47 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Wary

Along several streets on the East side of Park Blvd., a neighbor has posted photo and description of a skinny—observably emaciated—grey female wearing a collar and bell. The person hopes to catch the presumably lost, or abandoned, kitty and take her to the animal shelter or vet for microchip scan that might identify—and possibly help locate—the owner(s).

So, as the sun started sinking below the horizon, I moseyed over for a late-day walk—during what is typically an active time for cats. I passed Reddy sitting in front of his new, self-adopted home on Georgia. Moments earlier, I came upon a tan-and-white shorthair between Meade and Mission. My raising Leica Q2 to shoot put the animal in trepidation stance. The Featured Image is the first of three taken and the only one usable. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2.8, ISO 500, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 7:47 p.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 5, 20219:21 pm

Well, Stone the Crows

And I am so glad this bird isn’t a raven (gulp, unless I misidentified, which easily could be). I’ve been humming Stevie Wonder song “Superstition” since the sighting earlier today and only while writing made the subconscious mental connection: Ravens as forebears of bad luck, or worse. But I’m not really superstitious—or wouldn’t be if not for the odd encounter.

While walking along Madison, approaching the alley between North and Campus in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, the flyer landed on a fence beside me. He seemed to want something, and I wondered if perhaps people feed him. Of course, the encounter could have been, uh-hum, an omen. The bird perched long enough for me to step back, pull out Leica Q2, and compose two shots (changing aperture between) before flying off.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 26, 20219:05 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Bear

This fine feline reminds me so much of our lost Kuma that I spent the better part of an hour comparing photos. Resemblance there is, but nothing more. Our part Maine Coon disappeared on Jan. 15, 2012, and we believe that a coyote got him because city workers found his collar in a nearby canyon fifteen days later.

My daughter chose Kuma, which means bear in Japanese. Hence my choice of nickname for his doppelgänger. On May 22, 2021, as my wife and I crossed Madison moving South along Mississippi, Bear moved just enough behind glass to catch my attention. While the late-afternoon sun illuminated the cat well enough for a portrait, he sat back to me. So Annie and I continued walking, then I stopped and reversed direction for a photo. But he still faced inward, so I started away—then one-eightied once more. As I momentarily stood, iPhone XS ready, Bear turned—and posed! I gulped and wondered: Does he recognize me? Is that Kuma?

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 24, 20219:19 pm

Stand Off!

Temperature rose to 25 degrees Celsius (77 F) today in San Diego. As we walked about during early afternoon, I suggested going along Louisiana and perhaps sighting some kitties lounging about. My wife smartly observed that any sensible animal would be sleeping during the heat of the day. But as we crossed Mission moving towards Monroe, cries of something stirred our eardrums. “Are those babies?” Annie asked. Nope. They were felines fiercely yowling, practically nose to nose.

I immediately recognized the animals: Ash and Bandit, both of which were profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series. Annie and I were on the opposite side of the street; capturing the Featured Image meant crossing part ways and shooting without disturbing the already disturbed beasts. In the two minutes that we observed, and I photographed, them, the two males maintained a stand off. If their territorial dispute ended in a fight, we didn’t witness it. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 1:50 p.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 22, 202110:15 pm

A Backyard Moment

Ah, how does one properly describe the feeling of shock and awe when looking back at old photos—and realizing just how terrible they are? The haughty is humbled, and I wonder that my earlier days shooting digital, in this instant Canon’s original Rebel, could produce such a collection so unpleasingly composed, and poorly exposed and/or focused. The Featured Image and its companion are among the better backyard moments from the hundreds of older pics reviewed this evening. Their main value to me is sentiment.

During our family’s Maryland days, before unwisely relocating to California in October 2007, our other rabbit occasionally romped around the backyard (Daisy was the other, and, oh, how she was loved). I guess we were way ahead with the gender re-identification and change-the-pronouns social trend. “I identify as a female” would be what Mayflower would say if able to do more than squeak. She was born a he, but we didn’t know that at the time of naming. So him became her. Vitals for his—or is that her or their—portrait: f/5.6, ISO 125, 1/60 sec, 55mm; 11:27 a.m. EST, Nov. 16, 2005.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 21, 20218:41 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Jasmine

Feline identification can be tricky. I would under any other circumstance state with certainty that this kitty is Guido, who lives a half-block down, across the street, and around the corner with Bruce and Little. I spent better part of an hour comparing his photos to those of this tabby—and the shorthairs sure look alike to me. Except they cannot be. I frequently see the tiger-stripe where she is supposed to be—romping outside the home that she shares with Annie. If I really have confused them, some day a new portrait will replace this one.

Jasmine, who is about four years old, is the sixty-seventh cat from Alabama Street between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. That works out to 16.5 percent of the series‘ 406 profiles. I am baffled about why so many. Numbers creep up for Louisiana and Madison, but they lag far behind—and there are at least three other putty-tats on Jasmine’s block of which I am aware (seen briefly while trying over several weeks to get a good shot of her).

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 14, 202110:19 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Joy

While walking with my wife along Mission Ave. between Alabama and Mississippi, on May 12, 2021, I spotted a black bird-watching from the semi-seclusion of a home’s attached planter. I shot several portraits using iPhone XS and Leica Q2, and the Featured Image comes from the camera. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 12:51 p.m. PDT.

Call me befuddled trying to come up with yet another nickname appropriate for a Halloween Cat. Let’s go with Joy, because the shorthair seemed so content where it relaxed and observed.