Greetings old and new companions, 
Our (see note on FLF collective) human came back from teaching at a writing conference in a city oddly named Phoenix – which is a mythical bird as I understand it. She was excited about the writers she met there, especially her students. “They wanted to hear all about your work and your writing,” she said to me. I reminded her that none of us is any more to be praised than the collective. “Good grief,” she said, “this political correctness is getting old.” I reminded her that both of us are old.
I am happy to hear that there are other humans determined to shape the future of their species – and, consequently mine. We have arrived at a sorrowful state on our beloved home planet. Only through the organized efforts of all of us can things change. Please continue to join our human and me as we write what little knowledge we have managed to accumulate over the years.
Today’s mewsing: It always pays to speak, write, listen and be sure there is enough canned cat food. Onward, Ruti, the Red
Note: The FLF is the Feline Liberation Front. Our collective consists of me, our human, Boo, our cat of color strategist, Cowboy Benez, tabby, mighty pony rider and napper and Miss ChiChi, our fabulous honey trap.
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