Since starting in October 2016, this series has featured more than 85 different felines—the majority of them domestic pets. Solid colors like black or grey and tiger-stripe combinations are unsurprisingly widely represented. But I would […]
Among the distribution of neighborhood kitties, two color combinations surprise me: White with orange/tan blotches and tuxedo. Hence the nickname for today’s furball. Drop by for the other, tomorrow.
I spotted this fine specimen while walking up the Maryland Ave. alley from Van Buren to Meade. At first, I thought that Pepe, who lives nearby where VB meets Cleveland, had gone on an adventure. But after close inspection, on MacBook Pro at home, this fine feline is a different animal. And the other tuxedos: Fraidy, Patience, Poser, Sammy, and Spot.
Yesterday afternoon, I walked 1.6 km (1 mile) from the Greyhound depot to the McDonald’s nearby San Diego High School, where my daughter graduated five years ago; my legs needed movement after being too long motionless during the three-hour ride from Long Beach. I had made an overnight-trip to see my niece Lynnae, who was on the West Coast for business.
Soon after the bus exited Interstate 5, I saw the extent of the city’s homeless crisis for the first time. Tents lined several blocks (at least) along what may have been National Avenue. According to the San Diego Regional Task Force on the Homeless, the number of homeless people living unsheltered has increased 41 percent since 2014. There are 937 (recorded) tents, up 58 percent year over year. Data is current as of July.
My second-favorite neighborhood feline, The Colonel, is gone. Numero Uno, Fess, is missing—16 days, and as each passes his return grows more unlikely. In June, The Colonel’s owner told me that the majestic longhair had succumbed to “the cancer”. A few months earlier, while on a walk, my wife and I chatted with the woman (and her husband). The kitty had lost weight and, honestly, looked terribly scrawny to me.
The family has a new pet, Charlie, whom I first met on June 19, 2017. My struggle since: Getting good-enough portraits, despite several opportunities. Morning of Aug. 15, 2017, while walking down Monroe Ave., I saw a woman petting the cat on North—diagonally across the street from his home. The beastie, who is still a kitten, but closing on a year-old, is a roamer. As the lady turned away, he skirted from the sidewalk into a yard, where chomping grass consumed him for a good 10 minutes.
The drama of the three feral kittens opened a new—and perhaps final—neighborhood chapter last evening. I don’t yet know how the story ends. Around 7:20 p.m. PDT, with the protection of the waning light, I went out for a walk. Hours earlier, I had been at the ophthalmologist’s office, where one eye was dilated, leaving my vision temporarily impaired and sensitive to the San Diego sun.
My walk ended abruptly. A small group of teens, from two families, were gathered around the house where I had seen the feral trio the previous evening. Armed with cans of tuna, tenacity, and patience, they determined to trap the beasties—and one other: their momma. I started this series in October 2016, to date featuring more than 80 felines, and until last night I had not seen her. That’s surprising, since she raised her brood about a block from our apartment.
What a coincidence! On the same block where yesterday I saw house stagers, three kittens, presumably feral, are loose; I encountered them about 10 hours later. They’re skittish, but scooted back rather than ran away. I might have made life-long friends had kibble been handy to give them.
This series typically features neighborhood cats that, well, I expect to be long-term fixtures. The majority are obviously pets that are let outdoors. While the feral trio spent most of our visit hanging around a front porch, they clung more to the space as birthplace—perhaps below or in the bushes—rather than permanent home where they are owned. I expect that they will soon be captured and taken to the shelter; wouldn’t local adoption be so much better?
For about five years, delight of the neighborhood—down Maryland Ave. about halfway between border streets Madison and Lincoln—is a mini-wildlife refuge that I affectionately call the Butterfly House. The name derives from the Monarchs and other flying things that frequent flowers and foliage there. This series has featured felines—nicknamed Flower and Skull—on either side of the property, but not until today did I see, for the first time (finally), and photograph a kitty there. Of course, my wife and I would be walking to The Hub for groceries without a camera other than iPhone 7 Plus.
The Featured Image pulls back from the furball to provide some sense of the lush greenery and their variety. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 20, 1/523 sec, 3.99mm; 9:36 a.m. PDT. San Diego’s typical early day marine cloud layer made for perfect shooting conditions.
Friendly, feisty feline Fess is missing! His owners started postering his disappearance on Aug. 5, 2017. I last saw him about 7:25 p.m. PDT on the second, sitting way out into the sidewalk gutter of his apartment complex driveway; no one has reported seeing him since. Given that he is my neighborhood favorite, and needing to relax-the-mind walk following my mother’s death two days ago, I have looked all around for him—yesterday twice meeting his owners doing the same. Fess has a new collar, which I used as excuse for a July 22nd Caturday mini-pictorial.
My heart stopped, or so it seemed, last night while searching the alley between Campus and Monroe—well within Fess’ territorial range. I came across a long hair that lying flat reminded me of him. The animal let me approach and lift up collar tag to reveal Sophie. Her face shares similar features, but mitten paws and spectacular white ruff easily distinguish her from the neighborhood’s pride. I am amazed how many people know, or know of, the missing kitty.
I am often perplexed why someone would chop down a living tree. A decade ago, my family relocated from the Washington, D.C. suburb of Kensington to sunny San Diego. A year earlier, I told my […]
Next week, iPhone is 10 years old; sales started on June 29, 2007. Please see my post about that day—”The iPhone Moment“—and another on the tenth anniversary of the device’s unveiling, “The iPhone Metaphor“, from January of this year. Strangely, I celebrate by abandonment. Twelve days ago, my family switched to Verizon from T-Mobile, and in process I gave up iPhone 7 Plus.
Appropriately perhaps, as I write this sentence, Talk Talk’s “Living in Another World” streams from Tidal. Yeah, that’s me, with respect to iPhone 7 Minus—what I started calling the thing after learning that Apple makes two models, one of which in part is incompatible with Verizon and other CDMA carriers. You want model A1661 and not A1784. Rather than get another Minus, I chose to try something else: Google Pixel XL, which overall user experience is as good and in many respects so much superior.
I am in process of completing a review of the Moto Z Force Droid, which is a Verizon Wireless exclusive. This afternoon, I shot some nectaring bee photos with the smartphone and iPhone 7 Plus for comparison. My wife and I went on a walk with both devices, stopping at what we affectionately call the Butterfly House. The residence is a mini-wildlife refuge for Monarchs, hummingbirds, and other flying things; oh, and chickens, too.
The Featured Image comes from the Droid, which packs a 21-megapixel camera. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 50, 1/465 sec, 4.51mm; 3:01 p.m. PDT. However, the image is only 16MP because the default setting, which I neglected to check, is 16:9 rather than 4:3. No matter, focus is spot on, IQ high, bokeh beautiful, and color accurate. I’m pleasantly surprised.
My Leica Q mistakes compounded on May 26, 2017. Earlier in the day, I forgot to change the shutter speed from the previous night’s shooting. Later, the battery died during my attempt to photograph an approaching short-hair. Doh. Who isn’t smart enough to read the charge meter in the display? Hel-l-lo? Joe? Anyone home?
While I fuddled with the camera, the kitty rolled around at my feet. Time wasted, I barely got out iPhone 7 Plus, before the furball sauntered off into the middle of the street—Louisiana, a few houses back from Monroe. Featured Image vitals: f/1.8, ISO 20, 1/634 sec, 3.99mm; 6:29 p.m. PDT.