Flowers Within the Fog — Part One

 

06/23/2026

Iwoke today the king of nothing.

On my mind was death. Not as something final but as something else. A relief.

I went to bed around 8:30 a.m. after a dose of zolpidem. Work sucked. Not because of the work itself but because of the graveyard hours.

Graveyards. Somewhere I always seem to end up.

I ended up having to fight off mosquitoes once again on my way in through the front door. I got inside and checked on Lily. Yes, her name is spelled differently than the last entry. That's a new development I'm planning on sharing in a bit.

Before the pill did its thing, I called the city to see what was up with them not spraying. Every night I'm walking through a cloud of mosquitoes.

I didn't get anyone, but I left one hell of a message. The type that sounds like a drunk person calling in the middle of the night trying to make a point. I probably repeated a lot of the same stuff in different ways, but Ambien is to blame.

I also made sure to mention code enforcement because the vacant lots surrounding my house are becoming jungles. That's probably why there are so many mosquitoes.

I woke up not much later around 10:30 a.m., two hours after my sleeping pill kicked in. My kidneys were aching and I was completely disoriented as I made my way to release my bladder.

I was too upset about the sleeping pill not keeping me under to be worried about the aching kidneys. I simply went back to sleep.

Then another two hours later, up again.

The kidneys were still aching. My back wasn't bothering me, but after being in bed so much I figured I'd better do a few yoga stretches before I created another problem for myself. The last thing I needed was aching kidneys and a messed up back. The stretching helped and eventually I fell back asleep.

I know I woke up a bit later. Maybe another two hours later. I just didn't get out of bed right away.

I knew I had a counseling appointment at 4:00 p.m., but I also needed to take Lily to the vet to see if she was going to keep that name or if a chip would reveal her true identity and family.

I needed to clean the pet carrier that I had in the front yard. It's kind of like a little shelter for our outdoor cat family when they need it.

I keep calling them strays, but that doesn't really feel accurate anymore because they all have names and personalities and have become part of our lives over the years. Shadow has a name. Conina has a name. And Baby Diamond has a name too. She's a tiny Siamese and practically a miniature version of her grandmother, Diamond, which is exactly how she got the nickname.

Family isn't always determined by who lives inside the house. Sometimes family is just who keeps showing up. We haven't seen Diamond in months, though. I don't know for certain what happened to her, but I suspect she may no longer be with us.

I got to the car wash with the pet carrier and realized I didn't have enough change or quarters. I used my card instead.

It took my money.

Twice.

Both times it gave me less than half a second of water.

Now I had a dirty pet carrier and a bank problem.

I headed to the bank, collected some quarters, and informed them about the charges. Unfortunately, they were still pending, so there wasn't much I could do until they posted.

I made it back to the car wash, but by then I only had about fifteen minutes to get to my counseling appointment.

I hurried.

Got the damn thing cleaned.

Got back in the car.

And made it to my appointment with five minutes to spare.

The counseling session was productive, but I'm going to save most of that discussion for later because it deserves its own space. Some conversations aren't meant to be rushed through in the middle of a story. They need room to breathe.

I left counseling around 5:00 p.m., got back to the house, loaded Lily into the carrier, and headed for the veterinary clinic in Ingleside before they closed at 6:00 p.m.

I spoke with a very nice receptionist named Tanya. In fact, I've spoken with Tanya countless times while making appointments for Monkey and the other cats I've cared for over the years. I just never had a face to go with the voice until today.

She told me that Lily reminded her of her own calico. She said Lily was beautiful and that she loved her eyes. She mentioned that they reminded her of the way cats were depicted in ancient Egyptian artwork. Those are some of the same things that drew me to Lily in the first place.

Somewhere during the conversation she noticed my Metallica shirt.

That led us down an entirely different rabbit hole.

Tanya told me she loved Metallica and had seen them live years ago along with Faith No More and Guns N' Roses.

She then shared a story from that show that stuck with me.

According to her, Metallica finished their set, packed everything up, and had already left. Meanwhile, Axl Rose was apparently refusing to perform and causing problems. The crowd was left waiting and growing increasingly frustrated.

Word eventually got back to Metallica.

So instead of calling it a night, they turned around, came back, and played for another four hours.

Eventually Guns N' Roses went back on stage and played a few songs, but according to Tanya, by that point nobody really cared.

The way she told the story, Metallica saved the show.

I love that story. Metallica rules!

She scanned Lily with the little device.

No chip.

No tattoo.

No clipped ear.

No signs of being spayed.

Before printing out the estimate for her next visit, Tanya asked me what name I wanted to put on the file.

I was going to say Lillian.

Instead, "Lily Anna" came out.

I don't know where Anna came from, but that's what I said.

Since she needed a name to place under Monkey's file, she entered it into the system as Lily Anna.

The funny thing was that she spelled Lily with one L in the middle instead of two.

L-I-L-Y.

I actually liked it.

So somewhere during that conversation, Lilly became Lily.

No chip. No owner. No hidden identity. Just a new spelling and an unexpected middle name.

So Lily remains Lily.

Tanya then told me about a cat she had taken in years ago. A very sweet cat. Gentle. Loving. The kitty ended up coming home one day with a hole in her side from a .22.

Who would shoot a sweet cat like that?

I asked the question out loud.

She said she had asked herself the exact same thing.

I think people who do things like that are sick. She said something very similar. My inner Dexter Morgan briefly surfaced. Never an innocent though. I have a code. The Code of Harry.

While I was there, a former schoolmate walked through the door. Someone I hadn't seen since my teenage years. Later her partner arrived as well. Someone I had known of by name but never really knew personally because we ran in different circles.

We caught up for a while.

It was nice.

I was reminded of how I was viewed back then. A thug. A gangster.

And yes, there was some truth to that.

That part of me is still inside somewhere, but these days it only comes out when necessary. Or if I'm being honest, sometimes when I'm absolutely livid for no good reason.

Life situations and circumstances shape you into what you become. You can either let it make you or break you.

Evolution is my choice.

The visit showed a contrast between who I was and who I've become.

Two different people.

Same body.

We spent some time catching up on life. I shared what I've been doing since those days, including my journalism career, why I'm back in this area, my mother's passing, counseling, and the music projects I've worked on over the years as well as the ones I'm working on now.

It was refreshing.

Surreal.

Definitely good to see them both.

And I got to meet their kiddo.

Awesome little family.

At one point I was asked if I had any children.

I immediately thought of Monkey Cat.

But before I could say that, my standard response came out.

"None that I know of."

I laughed.

I've had a few scares over the years. A couple of unexpected knocks at the door.

Thankfully, both situations turned out like the Billie Jean song.

Not mine.

Before leaving, a vet tech came out and went over the next steps with me. She explained that before Lily could be introduced to Monkey, she would need testing and vaccinations. Until those results came back, they needed to remain separated.

That means for now, Lily gets her own space.

Monkey gets his.

Once the testing is complete and everything comes back clear, they can begin the process of meeting each other properly.

It was practical advice.

Responsible advice.

And if I'm being honest, it was also the moment I realized something.

I wasn't preparing to help a lost cat anymore.

I was preparing to keep one.

And with that realization, carrier in hand, I left the clinic.