A Weekend of Highs and Lows

This past weekend was one of extreme highs and lows for me. First the highs.

For several years now I have been studying a martial art called To-Shin Do (which loosely translates as "way of the sword and spirit"). It is a modernized form of Ninjutsu (a.k.a. Ninpo, Taijutsu, etc.) that was founded in the United States by Stephen K. Hayes. He had travelled to Japan, and learned the art from Masaaki Hatsumi, the last master of nine ancient lineages ("ancient" here being about 900 years) then brought it back to teach it here. My instructor, John Poliquin, is Mr. Hayes' senior student, and an accomplished martial artist in his own right (he held a black belt in Judo before meeting Mr. Hayes). It is sheer coincidence that a Quest Center (as To-Shin Do schools are called) is located nearby, and is run by an instructor like Mr. Poliquin. In Maine, of all places.

This past weekend Stephen Hayes was in Portland conducting a seminar at my Quest Center. Along with forty or so of my fellow students I trained under his instruction from seven to nine on Friday night, and again from nine to noon Saturday morning. It was worth the money, the time, and the pain (though I've been at this for some time, I'm still just a beginner, and I'm fighting my own out-of-shape body and lazy tendencies every step of the way). I don't know what more to say about it than that. this is the second time I've met Mr. Hayes, though this was in a smaller group, and a more intimate setting (and I am further along in my training) all leading to a more satisfying experience. Mr. hayes himself has always been upbeat and absolutely thrilled to be doing what he's doing, something that he passes along to others. I may not have learned a whole lot this weekend, in literal terms, but what I got was a glimpse of things to come, a chance to observe and learn a bit from a master, and a renewed excitement about what I'm doing (in the picture below, I'm the one on the left, if there was any doubt).



Now for the lows.

Sunday morning Laura and I realized that we had not seen one of our cats, Casey, since Friday. It isn't unusual to not see him all day, especially on hot days, since he likes to hang out in the basement where it's cooler. It was almost noon the next day, however, and his absence was noticed. On a whim I went downstairs to look for him. I found him curled up in an empty rubbermaid bin, dead.

From the look of things (I'll spare the details) he either had an aneurism, or he had severely injured his head. What it comes down to is that it was a fluke (and not something that would endanger our other two cats or dog), it was fast, and there's nothing we could have done. There's some consolation in that, faint though it may be. He's the first of our pets - meaning belonging to my wife and myself together - to die. He wasn't even four years old. Pets dying before you do is an inevitability, but we didn't think we'd have to deal with this for at least another five or six years.

Casey was always a bit off. Sick more than our other pets, clumsy, slightly schizophrenic in his behavior, but he was always lovable. He would demand attention, loudly, then run away when you tried to give it to him. If you could catch him before he got away he would melt into your arms, purring and kneading like he'd never been loved before. We have a small fountain for the cats (they prefer it to a simple bowl), and Casey's method of drinking from it was to stick a paw under the running water, shake it furiously as if surprised that it was wet, and only then drink. He would often misjudge jumps, or clean out whole shelves full of small items with his tail. His favorite treat was salsa and cheese sauce (not one or the other, but both mixed). Whenever we had some we would put a little on a chip for him, he'd lick the chip clean and then we'd give him a little more. Doing this three or four times was the only sure way to get him to leave us alone. He was annoying, demanding, frustrating, spoiled, impish, and we already miss him terribly.

Luna, Casey's sister, and our dog Markus, seem to have noticed his absence. They usually leave me alone during the day, but they've both been desperately clingy. Maybe I'm reading more into that than is there, I don't know. And I guess that's all there is to say. The big, dumb, lovable fuzz ball had a good life, I hope, he was loved and cared for the best we knew how.

I work from home most days, and the second chair in my office had more or less become his during the day. Today it was empty.