Another One Rides the Bus

If you're like me, you've ridden public transit a time or five in your lifetime. Today's Illumination is about one city's take on public transit, and how it's changing the way people move around.

In Dunkirk, they are one month into an experiment in free public transit. That's right, completely free for residents and visitors - all of the buses are hop-on, hop-off, and have been extended and made more frequent due to the additional demand.

Apparently, what happens when you make public transit free and more accessible is that more people take the bus, leaving their cars behind. They also travel more frequently - there are people who rarely traveled beyond their normal routes who decided that they were willing to try something new.

It's not right for everyone or every city, but being able to make it easier for people to move around is always a good thing. It's a symbol of freedom, after all.

On an unrelated note and for a personal Illumination, today is Nefertari's first birthday! This little kitty girl was everything we said we didn't want when we were looking for a new feline member of the household, but once she settled down with us, there was no turning back. Even Daisy's gotten used to her some.

Happy birthday, Little Bit!

Requiem for a DamnCat

A little over thirteen years ago, I met my now-husband Eric. A little while after that initial meeting, I met his two cats, Ramses and Feina. They were around four and five years old at the time, and they were clearly important to Eric. The fact that they were important to him is actually one of the things that attracted me to Eric.

Ramses, the older of the two, was a black cat of mighty strength - he was about eighteen pounds at his height, and most of it was muscle. He was not what you'd call a good kitty - he frequently decided that he didn't like certain people, and made his displeasure known by discovering what color their blood was. But if he liked you? He would defend you with all five pointy ends against all foes, both real and imagined.

He walked into Eric's life when he was about six months old, skinny as a rail and limping just enough to look pathetic. Eric's then-girlfriend asked if they could keep him, and Eric, who had never liked cats before, said yes. Eric didn't really stand a chance after that.

The last year or so, age had been catching up with Ramses - he was losing weight, slowing down, and was significantly more cuddly. I had a feeling that his time with us was coming to a close, and so maybe a week or so ago I told him that it was OK if he needed to go - he didn't have to stay just for us. His response was his deep rumbling purr, as usual.

Saturday, Eric discovered that Ramses' time was up. It took two forms of aggressive cancer, and upper respiratory infection, and being the cat equivalent of about 90 years old to take him down; he was a fighter until the end.

Walking into the house is still really difficult - I'm so used to having him greet me when I walk in, that it almost broke me when I walked in yesterday and he wasn't there. I know he was a cat, and they don't live as long as we do; at the same time, I can probably count on one hand the number of people who have been in my life longer than he was.

We'll miss you tremendously, Buddy. Try not to destroy the world while you wait for us, OK?