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Showing posts with label sloth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sloth. Show all posts

Friday, March 2, 2012

Saturday's Photo Hunting: fluffy tummies

Our friend Gattina in Belgium hosts Saturday's Photo Hunting, and this week the word is fluffy.
Here are a few photos I found of fluffy tummies, from our archives.

Dick's old cat, Igor, who lived to be 20 years old. He wasn't a fluffy cat, but he had a fluffy tummy.
Gao Gao, the daddy panda at the San Diego Zoo. We'll see him again at the end of this month.
Gao Gao's daughter, Su Lin, in 2006 at the age of 5 months, spent most of her time up in a tree, and we could see her tummy from below. Su Lin now lives in China.
Buttercup, the official resident sloth at the Aviarios Sloth Sanctuary in Costa Rica.
Close up of a Capuchin monkey in the rain in Costa Rica.
This fluffy-tummied youngster is a baby frigate bird in the Galapagos Islands.
I was very surprised when this fellow jumped onto my shoulder in Casablanca.
A baby puffin looks at photos of other puffins during my tour of Sea World in Florida.
My school friend Carola and her husband Ken have two Maine Coon cats named Dash and Lily.
This is Lily in the laundry basket.
These two doves in Kapaa, Kauai, Hawaii, are all fluffed up because it was a tiny bit chilly one morning, although not by Canadian standards!
Our favorite fluffy tummy in all the world belongs, of course, to our dog Lindy!
© Photos by Kay Davies and Richard Schear

Friday, January 6, 2012

For Real Toads: my inner animal

Today a feisty lady known as Fireblossom has challenged everyone in, or near, or  even curious about the writers' group Imaginary Garden with Real Toads to write about our own animal within.
She mentioned some words which are magic to me. One is "sloth"! I connected with my inner sloth long ago, and have blogged about it twice, once in 2009:
and once in 2010, with photos:

My inner sloth pretty much controls my life, and it interfered with a lot of things before it began interfering with blogging. My inner sloth doesn't hang from trees and feed on leaves. It lives inside me and feeds on physical pain.
However, meek, mild-mannered Auntie Kay has a dark side, too, and it erupts when a threat to a weaker being is perceived.
Fireblossom mentioned "mama grizzly" and my mind flashed immediately to that well of adrenalin I call my "mother bear instinct"! It is sometimes hard to imagine a weaker being than I, but whenever I realized a child, a small animal or, more recently, my frail and elderly parents or the other patients in the care facility, needed me to help, I'd be there with no thought to spare for the pain in my feet, my back, or my internal organs.
Wikipedia photo of
reconstructed Giant Ground Sloth
I become that extinct animal, that cross between a Canadian grizzly and a Costa Rican sloth, the Giant Ground Sloth, but I don't confine my rescue missions to the ground. I've been known to climb ladders (which I can't usually do) and swim (which I do badly) if I hear a scream, a squeak or even a whimper from a source I identify as needing me.
*
under my unprepossessing exterior
hides an animal greatly superior
who isn't so mild
whenever a child
needs someone to be big and scarier
*



Not much of a poem, but a poem was required for the prompt, and I never seem to get adrenalin rushing to the aid of my muse.