Dangerous Compassions

cat bones

“Tell me you washed that after you picked up cat bones,” I told Ming.

“It went through the dishwasher twice!” he said.

We laughed.  Yeah, we have a funny life.  I was referring to a pair of long tweezers that Ming was using to extract beads from a plastic embroidery thread organizer box, for me.


“Can I ask you if something would be fun for you, and if it’s not, you tell me honestly?” I asked.

“Sure,” Ming said.

“Would it be fun for you to organize my embroidery thread?”

He looked at the plastic box heaped with various threads, some in tangled clumps, from the past 30 years of my life.  “Yes,” he said.

“If you don’t actually like doing it or get frustrated, will you tell me or stop?” I asked.

“Yes,” he agreed.  My embroidery thread was a world-class mess.  And he organized it beautifully.  What a helpful sweetheart.


Ming is the type of person who has extra-long tweezers, to be sure.  Flashlights, pill pouches, first aid kits galore.  And extra-long tweezers.  I could guess it’s ocd, being a nurse, or something else.

But his obsessions and compulsions mostly make sense.  I love him just the way he is.

somos todos calaveras

I felt a lil nervous about sending cat bones through the mail.  Not like it was an invasive plant or something.  Our good friend is an artist who makes art on bones.

One street north of here, there was a cat skeleton I saw over and over for around a year.  At first it was rather whole.  Later it scattered, and we thought our artist friend might like the pelvis.

So I asked her, and she said yes, so Ming went for another walk and picked it up for her, with the special long tweezers.  I packaged it safely in its ziplock bag and bubble wrap in a little tin, in a padded envelope, and Ming mailed it to her.

The pelvis seemed very clean, being in a vacant lot for more than a year.  Amazing how small a cat pelvis is, but cats need to be able to squeeze through some tight places.


Later we cooked some free box chicken for the elders who live here.  I made government pasta with a weird lemony sauce.  The chicken Ming had cooked in the crock pot and shredded, so kindly, for the health of the elders.  And to please me, as I’m the one who most wants to feed the elders, who are thin and in pain.

I added pepper, garlic, oregano.  Then I was stirring, and I heard a sound.  Hmm, what was that sound.  It was my spoon scraping something hard.  Wow, it was a chicken bone.  I lifted it out of the food and set it on the stove.

“There was a bone in the chicken,” I told Ming.

“Oh, sorry,” he said.

“It’s ok!” I said.  “Just glad someone didn’t hurt their tooth.”

“What kind of bone?” Ming asked.

“Looks like a vertebrae,” I said.

“Oh, I thought I got all of those out,” he said.

That was pretty edgy for me.  But a lot of people eat meat all the time and must be used to this.  The vertebrae looked kind of like the pelvis, or it just reminded me.  With the hole in the middle.


I could show you a cat bones photo, but I’m afraid of squicking you.  Feels rude.  If this was livejournal, I’d put the bones photo under the cut!

Instead I’ll show you this selfie of me and Ming at the latest UU Let It Shine event.

the lovers

We needed to leave early, as I was socially full.  So we took this just in case selfie, and Ming looks hella cute, like a beautiful surgeon.

But our good friend Ariel’s spidey sense went off, and she knew we were leaving.  So we did the group shot with all of us.

let it shine

cat bones

I’m listening to this song, which seems appropriate for the discussion of cat bones.  I like the rain.  Love to your well-being.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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