A Hot Tip
Occasionally, I see a stray cat at a plaza which I frequent—where there is a restaurant—which means there's plenty of waste food leftovers for the cat's sustenance. It's a fine-looking animal. It doesn't get fat. It's well-bred. It's obviously a runaway. It might be sentimental, but I feel that the cat is too good for the streets. It needs a good home.
I resolved, therefore, to report it to an animal shelter. At least, to what I thought was a shelter, because, it's not only a shelter, as what this shelter does is catch, spay/neuter, and release. That's a new cat rescue process to me. This is not the first stray cat I have rescued. What is new is catch-and-release validates thoughts I have had about animals being better-off wild.
All animal shelters are always over-burdened. I have been to shelters with hundreds of cats—none in cages—each and every one living together peacefully. It's an amazing sight. In other shelters, when a home can't be found for an animal (after a certain period of availability), it may be "put down." Release, then, makes humane sense.
That no-cage shelter was the weirdest shelter I've seen so far. I suppose I caught the rescue mania from my mother and sister. Rescuing cats is, to them, like a competitive sport. As a result, I also have a natural liking for cat shelter administrators. Web search returned several good hits, and I began with the top search result. I was looking forward to making arrangements with the new shelter for my mark.
It was a dark and stormy night. Not exactly; but it was after dark, and I couldn't wait until morning to get started. To be perfectly honest, I didn't even try to call the main telephone number, because I was afraid someone might actually answer at that late hour. I emailed, instead. But first, I took a picture of the cat, which was sent attached to the email.
The snapshot was taken with my 2022 Motorola 'phone camera, at 3:51 AM, on July 31, 2024, with auto focus settings f/1.8 1/30 4.26mm ISO 2196. The flash was fixed "on." The shot was deliberately framed, that is, composed, so as to contrast the diminutive cat against a large, type-style address number, painted on a service door, in front of which may be seen the cat couchant, (diagonally, lower right.)
The bright LED camera flash reflected in the kitty's eyes emanating a brilliant yellow-green color. I prided myself on the achievement because (as said), I hoped a kind soul would fall in love with the cat, and claim ownership of it. The cat looked so pitiably small and helpless in the photo. It would be (surely) irresistible.
The email response was not heart-warming. The instant reply was a boilerplate message about reserving traps for a nominal security deposit. And, to expect a wait for availability. I was not discouraged. I know how pictures of cute cats circulate. It was certainly only a matter of time. The next day I received a human reply;
I would also like to mention the cat has a tipped ear so
he has been previously TNR (Trap, Neuter and released),
so as long as he is being cared for he doesn't need to be
disturbed, It looks like you guys are taking good care of
him.
"The cat has a tipped ear"? I re-examined my original photo file, zooming-in on the cat's face (and ears). Indeed, the cat's left ear has a clean, square severance, about 3/4" beneath the tip. Out of respect for the creature, I had never approached closely enough to have noticed the "tipped" ear, that is, before having my attention directed to the detail.
The new title of my photograph is: A Hot Tip. The provocative title in intended to tease the viewer, for, without the above legend explaining the title of the photo, would anyone be so diligent—so determined—as to study the image under a magnifying glass to discover its meaning? Because, my friends, that is the point of blogging about anything which is, arguably, tangential to my paintings.
Or blogging about anything tangential to art; for, if not for photography's negative affirmation of the purpose of art—of its meaning—since the invention of photography in the 19th Century, painting would still be obliged to be "true" to the subject. My painting starts with documentary reference photos. Documentation is not my work's ultimate intention. The invention of photography relieved modern painting of the need for documentary integrity. Since photography, art is more a matter of the imagination—of fiction—than of fact. Photography was made for facts.