The 1974 Saturday morning series Korg: 70,000 BC is newly available on DVD. I was eight when this premiered as a mid-season replacement, and even though it had a comic book spinoff and everything, I never watched it.
The only reason I remember it at all--heck, the only reason why I'm mentioning it now--is because eight-year-old me thought it would be awesome if it had been called Coug: 70,000 BC, and had been about my beloved cat Cougar, who somehow traveled through time to a prehistoric era. Episodes would follow her as she...well, as she slept, devoured mice and occasionally fought with other cats, which is pretty much what Cougar did. Sure, that doesn't sound very interesting, but come on, we're talking seventies kiddie shows. A half hour of a cat sleeping on a rock couldn't be any less entertaining than an episode of Ark II. At least my show wouldn't feature any guest appearances from Jonathan Harris.
And...this is my last post for 2012: Cats and long-forgotten TV shows. Seems about right, doesn't it?
Monday, December 31, 2012
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
SHINES AROUND ME LIKE A MILLION SUNS
He curls up beside me, his head on the pillow. His powerful hind legs, kick gently against my chest, his front paws wrap around my wrist on lazily fall on the side of my face. His purr is so loud his whole body trembles, and I feel the vibrations through him.
He seems almost possessive. There's a dog now, and another cat I sometimes seem to favor, and he's maybe unsure of his place in the world. But this is our time now, and he relaxes, some comfort finally available to his troubled soul.
Still, this is Delmar, so as gentle as he tries to be, his claws are perpetually bared, piercing my skin as his paws slide across my arm or my face. I'll wake up with fresh scratches, with dried blood. I'm used to this by now.
After all, he's been in my life for ten years. Sometimes he can be a pain, quite literally, but hey, to live is to feel pain. And joy, which he also provides. Delmar is awesome and terrifying and sweet. His love is ferocious and absolute, and I can't imagine my world without him.
He seems almost possessive. There's a dog now, and another cat I sometimes seem to favor, and he's maybe unsure of his place in the world. But this is our time now, and he relaxes, some comfort finally available to his troubled soul.
Still, this is Delmar, so as gentle as he tries to be, his claws are perpetually bared, piercing my skin as his paws slide across my arm or my face. I'll wake up with fresh scratches, with dried blood. I'm used to this by now.
After all, he's been in my life for ten years. Sometimes he can be a pain, quite literally, but hey, to live is to feel pain. And joy, which he also provides. Delmar is awesome and terrifying and sweet. His love is ferocious and absolute, and I can't imagine my world without him.
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