Chapter 93: COVID Chronicles

June 29, 2020

By Karen

Day 110

With Trump, No Surprises Left & I Get Creative with Leftovers

As if it weren’t enough for Trump to be killing us in droves with COVID at home, we learn he’s been happy to let Russia take out our soldiers by proxy in Afghanistan.

It seems Putin pays the Taliban bounties for American hides. And Trump now denies that he and Pence have known it for months.

I’ll concede it’s possible that Trump, with his dwindling mental capacity, has no memory of it. And Pence’s standard line for everything is, “Nobody never tells me nuttin’ about nuttin’.”

And maybe whenever Chickenshit Cheetos Cadet Bone Spurs salutes a soldier, it’s not his secret “Fuck You!” signal to our generals because he’s been helping his BFF Vladdy wipe out U.S. troops without wasting any Russian bullets.

When did we make it OK for presidents who commit cut-and-dried treason say, “You can’t blame me for treason because I’m too mentally incapacitated, but you still have to let me run the country”?

What I find most tedious about this latest crime is everyone’s totally predictable outrage and continuing questions.

If there’s one thing 100% consistent about Trump, whether he’s manifesting any heinous human trait you can imagine, or behaving with such depravity that it defies description, it’s that it’s always EXACTLY as bad as it looks.

Trump has NEVER said or done anything that left anyone saying, “Well, that certainly wasn’t as bad as we feared.”

Moreover, it usually gets worse as you peel away the putrid layers of corruption that envelop everything he touches.

These bounties will be no different. Trump has been green-lighting Putin’s Kill-Americans-for-Fun-and-Profit project.

Don’t be surprised if it’s eventually revealed that Putin pays Trump a percentage on every American kill. Trump’s never been one to pass up an opportunity to demand a cut for his beneficence. This will probably be no exception.

Back on the culinary front, last night I had leftover beef lo mein in the fridge from my favorite takeout place, China Taste. I jazzed it up with onions and broccoli doused in soy sauce and sesame oil, and sprinkled it with bits of boneless pork spare ribs. It turned out delicious…

For today’s lunch, I still haven’t bought lunchmeat, and had only a dab of Mediterranean pasta salad left. It swims in olive oil, so I added some diced tomato sprinkled with oregano. Then a few Kalamata olives. And for protein I had some hard salami sitting around, so why not? For that touch of green, capers. Finished off with feta cheese. Voila! Tasty little lunch…

Speaking of lo mein, does anybody know a good recipe for whatever’s on the noodles? I’ve tried several, but have never been able to duplicate that restaurant taste.


Chapter 92: COVID Chronicles

June 28, 2020

By Karen

Day 109

Let’s Compare Notes: How Are We Doing?

As time drags on, trapped between COVID and Trump’s incessant assault on our sanity, we must wonder how or when it will end. Will life ever be “normal” again?

For 109 days I’ve only ventured out every few weeks for food and liquor, and twice to visit my parents at a distance.

I could run other errands, but always ask myself, “Is what I need to do at X worth getting sick and dying for?” The answer is always no, so I don’t do it.

My work has dropped off to part-time. Some will probably come back, some not. The lull has made time to write 92 blog posts in as many days, a feat I’ve never come close to before.

When my posts get no reaction whatsoever, I see by the statistics that somebody did look. I count those as human contact that day. But comments are the best affirmations I receive.

I stay up later, sleep later, and spend virtually every waking moment staring at a computer, phone, tablet or TV screen unless I’m cooking or in the bathroom. Too many of my meals have no green on the plate.

Even with the lighter workload, I look forward too much to flopping on the couch evenings to tune out the world with nonpolitical TV shows and martinis or a bottle of wine.

I feel guilty about all the productive things I could do but don’t. I have watercolors, but haven’t painted. I did some coloring in Chapter 5. My house is full of good books I could read every day for the rest of my life and never get through.

Instead of blogging for free, I could write a book. I’m a writer.

But not to beat myself up too much, I grew chives from nubs. I still study Norwegian (update another time). I continue this daily, mostly one-sided correspondence with somebody out there.

Essentially, two main things keep me going. One is these little guys…

They’re my reason to get up every morning (if I didn’t, Roc and Tony would probably eat me). It’s like I room with three demanding frat brothers in fur coats.

The other reason is my solid determination to survive Trump so I can see his downfall.

Trump is falling apart. I scour Twitter every day for video clips the news media refuses to use. That they continue to conceal most hard evidence of his deterioration is a crime in itself.

Trump has balance issues. His arms and shoulders jerk uncontrollably, which simultaneously causes him to mispronounce words. Watch him closely when he’s clutching the podium as he speaks. He has trouble swallowing. He can no longer form sentences. He’s incapable of conversation. When asked any question, he responds with babble he’s said thousands of times. (Ex: “We’ll see what happens.”) He expresses no original thoughts on any subject.

He is still able to fixate on criticisms he hears about himself, which he parrots as projections onto others. Right now he’s obsessed with making us believe Biden has dementia.

We must all get through this alive. As long as Trump manages to elude COVID, it’s up to us to criticize him, mock him, hold him accountable for his crimes and face down his cult of ignorant, no-class lowlifes. They are NOT a “silent majority,” but a sick, twisted minority of racist, backward-thinking traitors who will not prevail. We must drive those who don’t die of COVID through their own stupidity back into the shadows.

I agree with Joe Biden that the United States, as a whole, is a country of honorable and decent people. We let our guard down, and now we must stay strong to put an end to the rotten Republican Party that made a Trump possible.


Chapter 91: COVID Chronicles

June 27, 2020

By Karen

Day 108

Now 3 Things We Can Count On: Taxes, Death & COVID

While COVID was ravaging New York and New Jersey, remember how Trump’s red states seemed smug and complacent, like it could never touch them? Republican governors across the South and Midwest rejected even the most basic precautions, such as masks and social distancing.

Now COVID is on their doorsteps and any idiot could have predicted the results.

Doctors and nurses doing videos in Arkansas, Mississippi and Texas talk about how their hospitals are overwhelmed and people are dying horrible deaths with no end in sight. They’re like reruns of the videos out of New York that other states’ leaders laughed at.

Meanwhile, Trump and Pence refuse to set up the national response and testing we desperately need because they simply don’t care how many people die. I personally believe Trump pleasures himself every evening while looking at the rising numbers of sick and dead. To him, they’re ratings of his success as a dictator. Yes, he really is that sick.

That pair gloat over their nonexistent leadership and prance (at taxpayer expense) from one hot spot to the next like a couple of Typhoid Marys. It seems a matter of when, not if, they will both end up on ventilators — or worse, if we’re lucky. They must pay a price for preening in front of chanting mobs that undoubtedly include infected morons spewing virus. I’m counting the days.

The MAGA set thinks COVID is just one more reality whose existence they can deny. If they pretend it’s gone, it’s gone. But that’s not how viruses work.

I sincerely hope the European Union slams the door to all Americans — including Trump. Countries that did the right things shouldn’t let our potentially infected people anywhere near their citizens. They see Trump gleefully breeding a subset of Americans who will kill without mercy or remorse, with or without a gun. To that bunch (you can easily spot them by the masks they DON’T wear), nobody’s life matters, not even their own. Yes, they’re really that stupid.

My head was exploding as cases rose and yet states started relaxing restrictions and reopening, including Virginia, whose physician-Governor Northam KNEW better. Then the inevitable new wave of illness and death — especially in red states — was reported like nobody saw it coming.

Soon we’ll be seeing figures on the people who attended Trump rallies and ended up in the hospital fighting for their lives. I wonder if that will also be covered as some crazy new twist in the COVID story, or the disgusting inevitability of having an increasingly irrational monster in the White House who feeds on death. He must be stopped before November.


Chapter 90: COVID Chronicles

June 26, 2020

By Karen

Day 107

Cats at Play & Theft

In the ongoing competition over the couch’s primo spot, last night Roc politely sidled up to Max as close I’ve ever seen them. They even exchanged a few head licks before dozing off…

Roc’s display of what Max must have known was insincere affection apparently grossed Max out, because he soon left and spent the rest of the night up in the Man Cave.

Always on the prowl for fun, Tony has dug out an Easter egg that was a gift from a former Cats Working reader, also named Adele. It arrived many years ago for the original blogging crew, which consisted of the now all-late Fred, Yul and Adele. I can still make out Fred’s name on this egg. I put a little wicker ball inside to make it rattle because Tony loves a mystery. Roc was watching, so Tony did his best to stay cool…

But it was no use. Like a kitten, Tony pounced back on, dribbling the egg until it got trapped one time too many…

Nothing escapes Tony. This morning, with no cats around, I put two slices of sourdough bread in the toaster to cook after I finished cleaning the litter boxes. While I was off doing that, Tony deftly lifted a slice out, a feat of greater dexterity (and cunning) than he’s ever shown before, and was nibbling it when I returned. Lately, he’s had an intense interest in bread of all types.

Then last night, Tony had a grappling session with Rowdy Rat, after Rowdy got a catnip refresh. This particular rat has survived here 30-35 years through a succession of cats who all did their best to kill him. He’s still sold by Cat Claws. Poor Rowdy has managed to keep his tail, but his pink ears (which I’ve reattached several times) are long gone…

Tony, Max and Roc wish everyone a healthy and safe weekend and full bowls!


Chapter 89: COVID Chronicles

June 25, 2020

By Karen

Day 106

#BourdainDay News from the Home Front

Were Anthony Bourdain still with us, today would have been his 64th birthday. In 2019, his chef friends Eric Ripert and José Andrés began celebrating by designating June 25 #BourdainDay. All that’s required in recognition is to raise a glass or have a great meal that Tony might have loved — which is to say, do whatever makes you happy.

Restaurants all over are featuring specials in his memory. For example, Tojo’s in Vancouver is recreating the seven-course menu served when Bourdain visited in 2008, with a portion of proceeds going to Mind the Bar, a fund for local restaurant workers dealing with depression. Even in death, Bourdain still champions worthy causes.

GoTraveler posted a tribute consisting of early Bourdain TV clips that left me smiling. He was so exuberant when he and his earring embarked his globe-trotting adventure…

I met Anthony Bourdain’s wife Ottavia in November 2009 when several Cats Working readers and I gathered in Washington D.C. to attend the annual Capital Food Fight, which Tony was hosting with José Andrés…

Since then, Ottavia and I have occasionally touched base, and she graciously provided an update on how she and daughter Ariane are doing.

Ottavia’s parents live in Italy’s Lombardy region, which was the epicenter for COVID-19 there. Bourdain once filmed an episode of No Reservations featuring them and other members of Ottavia’s family. Fortunately, they have been able to stay healthy.

But Ottavia wasn’t so lucky. She’s gone back to school to study neurobiology (she had once studied dentistry in Italy before emigrating to the U.S.). In February, she got her EMT (emergency medical technician) license.

She told me she caught COVID-19 in mid-March, probably in school or on the bus, so her plans to begin volunteering as an EMT had to get scratched. Here’s what she told me about coronavirus:

“It was AWFUL. I wasn’t one of the worst cases and I managed to stay out of the hospital, mostly because I have a stethoscope and a pulse oximeter at home and I could check my lungs’ sounds and my oxygen concentration. It took me over three weeks to recover. I still have lingering issues.”

Ottavia is in her early 40s (her 1965 birthdate repeated all over the internet is wildly inaccurate). She describes this lingering aftereffect of COVID that I haven’t seen reported anywhere:

“I had completely lost my sense of smell and could barely taste anything. But things were getting much better until last week, when I started smelling a sinister scent. Like rotten carcass. I was sure there was a dead mouse in the apartment, although Eddie and Ariane couldn’t smell anything. I went on a hunt for hours. But then I realized that I could smell that scent in meat, tuna, coffee, body wash.

“I emailed my doctor, and turns out that many people who recovered from COVID-19, and had lost their sense of smell, are now, weeks later, suffering from parosmia, a distorted sense of smell. For some it’s so bad they can’t even eat because everything tastes like rotten meat.

“I’m sure this too will pass, but it’s a scary virus because there are still so many unknowns. It’s maddening to see how many people are nonchalant about it.”

Ariane and Eddie haven’t gotten sick, and Ariane even tested negative for antibodies, so somehow Ottavia managed to successfully quarantine while they were all living in the same apartment.

Ottavia has had a relationship with Eddie Cummings for several years. They met at Renzo Gracie’s Academy while practicing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

I don’t know how much of a role, if any, BJJ still plays in their lives. Eddie is completing his master’s degree in applied mathematics and plans to go on to Ph.D. studies.

Ottavia is keeping busy with a lot of summer school classes. Last year she told me she wanted to study neurological disorders like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, and would love to earn a Ph.D. in biomedical science.

Daughter Ariane is 13 now and studying for high school admission tests she’ll be taking in the fall. Can you believe how time flies?

It sounds like Ariane has some strong Bourdain genes. She’s already taller than Ottavia. She’s a straight A student. For hobbies, she’s into playing music and painting. Ottavia also reports that Ariane is a great writer.

Ariane is certainly old enough to surf the ‘net, and she does. And what she sometimes finds about her father is disturbing.

In case Ariane’s surfing ever brings her to Cats Working, I want to say that none of us know the full story after 2016. Only after Tony was gone did we learn he’d become deeply entangled in an explosive mess created by that woman he was dating. Had it come out while he was alive, it would have damaged his reputation and possibly ended his relationship with CNN. So, anything he did to keep that woman happy and quiet may have been to protect his own family, not because he preferred her.

Since this woman has never shown the slightest regard or respect for Tony’s family before or after his death, anything she puts online about him can only be construed as self-serving and possibly cruel by intent. She’s firmly established that’s how she rolls. Our only reasonable response is to ignore it and her.

I think I’ll be celebrating #BourdainDay later with a dirty martini. Cheers!

BONUS: InkedMag.com has a series of links to amazing tattoos of Bourdain people have posted. Check them out.


Chapter 88: COVID Chronicles

June 24, 2020

By Karen

Day 105

Max Owns the Couch & Finds a New Hobby

I’ve never had a cat who picks specific spots and won’t let them go like Max. When I went to bed last night, he was lying on the couch.

When I woke up this morning, he was sound asleep — on the couch.

He’s been there all day. But I must say his new friends seem glad to have him…

He only leaves to use the litter box, grab a bite to eat from his bowl on the coffee table, and drink from his kitty fountain.

Roc hangs around, hoping for a chance to reclaim that spot just to do it, but he’ll eventually give up and go play with Tony or join me upstairs.

This could go on all summer. Max has fixated on other places before, like the top levels of both the high kitty perches and the rocker. When he did, he stayed in those spots exclusively for months.

But then one day he’ll change his mind, move somewhere else, and never go back. It’s a mystery what goes into that decision.

When Max does leave the couch, he never walks in front of it back to his spot and hops up. He has to get there by way of the end table and the back of the couch. Or the slightly more direct route from the table to my shoulder and then down my entire body. I’ve got scratches on my boob to prove it.

The other night I opened a new box of tissues for the end table, and this is what Max immediately did to it…

Not counting how he inadvertently gouges all the furniture when he stretches with his claws out, I would say Max is the cat who takes pains to NOT be destructive. His one vice has always been slamming doors. He’s been known to trap unwary cats in a closet or my office, like the late Cole. Or even Roc, who I’m surprised didn’t see it coming.

So this business of shredding tissues is uncharacteristic. He’ll even do it while I’m sitting right there. Could he be trying to perfect the art of origami?

He’s had nine months to adjust to Adele’s absence. Even though Roc and Tony often chase Max around like Adele did, he seems to get that they’re doing it for sport rather than with an intent to kill, so Max doesn’t fear them or try to hide from them.

I guess Max is still exploring the feisty side he had to keep hidden from Adele all those years. I just hope he doesn’t go into the bathroom and discover those 1,100-sheet rolls of Scott® toilet paper I’m using now, because this was one of his first tricks as a kitten…

PS: Tomorrow is officially #BourdainDay and I’ve got some family updates to share, so stay tuned…


Chapter 87: COVID Chronicles

June 23, 2020

By Karen

Day 104

Destroying Statues Has Stopped Being Cute

I sincerely hope the peaceful protests of the past several weeks bring about meaningful progress in racial inequality and end police brutality. But in too many places, protests are taking on a Taliban tinge that threaten to undo every advance being made.

Even worse, they’re giving Trump’s cult justification to whip out their arsenals and fight back. This fulfills Trump’s fondest wish on earth — to see Americans slaughter each other in the streets. MAGA!

Take Richmond, Virginia. The other night, protesters pulled down a minor statue dedicated to the First Virginia Regiment. This was a militia formed in the mid-1700s, before the REVOLUTIONARY War.

This act of supreme historical ignorance — do you know anybody who bitches about us winning independence from England? — makes these protesters indistinguishable from Trump’s brain-free cult members.

In New York, they’re taking down a statue of Teddy Roosevelt because it offends blacks — and Native Americans.

Agreed, Native Americans have gotten the shaft at every turn. But doesn’t their plight deserve separate attention and correction, rather than tossing them into the already overflowing grievance pot, like some last-ditch seasoning?

A statue of George Washington in Portland, Oregon, was pulled down. He owned slaves, but he also won the Revolutionary War and until now was the “Father of Our Country” because he played a major role in setting up our democratic republic.

A statue of Ulysses S. Grant was torn down in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. Hello? Grant’s leadership WON the Civil War. Somebody gave him a slave once, but he freed the person.

Also at Golden Gate, a statue of Francis Scott Key, who composed our National Anthem — which, admittedly, Kurt Vonnegut accurately described as “gibberish sprinkled with question marks” — was pulled down because he owned slaves.

For good measure, those protesters also spray-painted a statue of Miguel de Cervantes, author of Don Quixote, who has no dog in this fight whatsoever.

In London, protesters went after a statue of Winston Churchill. So now the Brits have a problem with winning World War II?

Where does this insanity end? Next should we implode the Washington Monument (and Mount Vernon), the Jefferson Memorial (and Monticello) and Mount Rushmore?

The protesters who have managed to stay focused on the Civil War are now going after the generals’ horses.

And that is when I must clearly and irrevocably state, ENOUGH IS A FUCKING ‘NOUGH.

It’s all fun and games until some protester’s kid gets crushed by a horse or impaled on its falling leg.

In Richmond, protesters just tried to pull down the J.E.B. Stuart statue on horseback, and in D.C., they went after Andrew Jackson and his horse.

J.E.B. Stuart. Photo Phil Riggan, Richmond On the James blog

Horses were as exploited and abused during the Civil War as anybody. In fact, it would be entirely fitting to remove the generals’ statues and leave only their horses on the pedestals. The horses are noble works of art, and they were never out to kill anybody, own anybody or tear the country in half.


Chapter 86: COVID Chronicles

June 22, 2020

By Karen

Day 103

Experiment Update & More British TV

While I read the newspaper every morning, sitting on the living room floor, sometimes I feel eyes on me…

Tony is still basking in the glow of picking actual contenders (even if one was only momentary) in the Belmont Stakes and dreams of doing even better in the Kentucky Derby in September.

Sadly, we’ve suffered two losses. We haven’t seen the cardinals in the holly tree outside the kitchen since Saturday, shortly after I discovered their nest. I think I scared them off and hope there aren’t any eggs now.

And after chives dwindled to one viable stalk in the dirt, I tossed them. That last one’s roots had taken hold and grown. The others had no roots at all. So, if you want to regenerate chives (or green onions or scallions) do it hydroponically.

It was an interesting experiment. But since Tony’s began taking an interest in them and onions are lethal to cats, I had to pull the plug before he accidentally poisoned himself.

I’ve been binge-watching a British detective series on Amazon Prime called DCI Banks, which had five seasons from 2010-2016 and stars Stephen Tompkinson…

DCI Banks reminds me of Doc Martin

In addition to actors Stephen Tompkinson and Martin Clunes resembling each other physically, DCI Banks has Doc Martin’s keen intelligence and determination to get to the bottom of things and do a good job, but minus the Asperger’s.

To top off the comparison, the actress Caroline Catz joined DCI Banks in Season 2 when the female lead Andrea Lowe really got pregnant and took maternity leave (which they wrote into the plot to create some good twists). Catz had played Doc Martin’s love interest Louisa. As DI Helen Morton, her relationship with Banks is platonic because she’s married (and he has the hots for the one who now has a baby). She’s typecast as an uptight, exacting woman who borders on bitchiness, but somehow makes you not hate her.

(Aside: I didn’t immediately connect the dot that Tompkinson also starred for the first few seasons in Ballykissangel as the English priest transplanted to a small parish in Ireland who falls for the mouthy pub owner, another series I loved years ago. Now I may have to revisit that.)…

Photo TV Guide

If you watch British TV, you’ll see other crossovers. Father Brown’s inspector has a regular role, and Father Brown’s criminal nemesis, Flambeau, pops by.

I almost fell off the couch when even Baxter, Lady Cora’s maid from Downton Abbey, played a character who would have given Cora a coronary. (No spoilers!)

One reason I like all these shows is the absence of smartphones. DCI Banks started out in 2010 with a flip phone. Then Catz showed up with her smartphone and there was even a scene where DCI Banks remarked, somewhat annoyed, how much she used it for everything.

By Season 4, smartphones are the usual intrusion. Characters receive meaningful plot turns over the phone and you have to guess what’s going on by their facial reactions or unreadable text message exchanges.

If you have Amazon Prime and like fairly low-tech crime shows, I recommend DCI Banks.


Chapter 85: COVID Chronicles

June 21, 2020

By Tony

Day 102

Belmont Recap & Funny Business in the Holly Tree

For my first time ever seeing a horse race, I’m pretty proud of my predictions for the Belmont Stakes yesterday. I gave Tiz the Law the benefit of the doubt, since he was the humans’ favorite, and they were right. He won.

But there I was, glued to the screen when MY favorite, Fore Left, shifted into high gear and stunned everybody on the track when he looked for a moment like he was going to pull off a big upset…

Here was the leader board…

Unfortunately, Lefty’s boldness motivated the other horses and some of them overtook him. I’m glad his jockey let him relax back to 9th place because it made no sense at that point to run him to death.

One of the horses that charged in the end was my other favorite, Max Player. He really showed his stuff in the stretch and finished third!

At home, we had some excitement, too. It started when Karen noticed some dead branches on the holly tree outside the kitchen window. When she went to investigate, she found this nest…

There’s this cardinal who’s been giving Roc and me the stink-eye from that tree for about a week now. Little did we know he was shacking up out there…

Turns out he’s married. When Karen was tugging on the dead branches before she saw the nest, he and his wife were having a fit, flapping and squawking. Here he is again (top) and his bride…

She doesn’t look anything like a cardinal, so we thought it was a mixed marriage (do birds do that?). But Karen looked it up and girl cardinals are gray. Also, cardinals are monogamous and keep the same mate for life, so rather than the carefree playboybird he made us think he was, he’s spoken for.

The wife plopped down in the nest as soon as Karen came back into the house. This is their mating season, so she’s probably hatching a litter out there. The nest is too high for Karen to peek into. Cardinals are born in about 12 days, so Roc and I are keeping an eye out for a sudden population explosion.


Chapter 84: COVID Chronicles

June 20, 2020

By Tony

Day 101

Tony’s Debut on the Triple Crown Beat

I never knew Adele, but Max and Roc tell me she loved horses and the Triple Crown races — far more than she ever loved THEM, they believe.

Karen says Adele picked some winners, like Animal Kingdom (2011 Kentucky Derby) and Exaggerator (2016 Preakness). Adele even Skyped this funny interview with Exaggerator.

Adele would have HATED what COVID has done to the Triple Crown this year.

Today, Belmont is the first race of the season instead of the last. (NBC, 3:00 p.m. ET, post time 5:42) No fans will be there. It’s only 1 1/8 mile instead of the usual 1 1/2 mile. I understand 1 1/2 miles really pushes the horses, especially when they’re pooped from running in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness, all so close together. But this year they’re not, so Belmont is more like a normal race.

Because I’m the TV-loving cat around here, Max and Roc agreed I’m most fit to carry on Adele’s tradition. I think they’re lazy, or afraid she’ll haunt them if they do it and screw up. Or hazing the new kitty.

So I’ve been cramming to learn everything, especially what “odds” are. Thankfully, this Belmont has only 10 horses.

Humans think Tiz the Law has the best shot at winning (odds 6-5) because he’s won four of his five races. But he drew post position 8, which means slightly farther around the track.

Since I’m new to this, I’m not saying Tiz the Law won’t win. But I’ve always been an underdogkitty myself, so I’ve paid more attention to the less likely horses. If they can beat Tiz, it’s a win for all of us.

One I found is Max Player. Why? Look at his name. I’m nothing if not loyal to family. But he’s not some half-digested rubber band I just pulled out of my butt, either. He’s won two of his three races. Today he’s in pp 3 with jockey Joel Rosario and odds 15-1.

Watch his most recent race at Aqueduct on February 4 and see for yourself how amazing Max is…

I’ll admit this next is a dangle from my kitty perch, but I’m picking Fore Left to win (pp 6, jockey Jose Ortiz, odds 30-1). It’s not as crazy as it sounds, and here’s a human who agrees.

Fore Left is the most experienced and worldly horse. He’s won three of nine races, most recently the UAE Two Thousand Guineas on February 6 in Dubai…

And here’s Fore Left in June 2019 winning the Tremont Stakes…

All I’m saying is, if Tiz the Law manages to get closer to the rail and finds himself with a faceful of Fore Left tail, he might as well hang up his horseshoes, he’s glue.

(Am I getting the lingo, or are Max and Roc yanking my tail again?)

Almost forgot: Adele always blessed a race with, “May all the horses run a good race and cross the finish line safely.”

That goes for me, too.


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