Doggin' It

Yeah, I'm a little bit tired today.  Tinks decided to stay out until five o'clock this morning.  GAH.  Ever since the raccoon came in, I've been closing the pet door at night and keeping the cats inside.  Tinks has decided that he doesn't LIKE being inside all night, thankyouverymuch, and so while the other cats are inside by eight-thirty or so, Tinks has started staying out.  And out.  And OUT. 

And the LAST time he stayed out that late, he tangled with the neighborhood tom and came home the worse for wear, so when I woke up at quarter after four this morning and discovered that he was still out ... well, that was the end of the sleep for me.  And of COURSE, Tinks meandered back in at five, all, "What?  I was just out ... doing stuff!  Why were you worried?"

What the hell do cats DO outside at night, anyway?  I mean, other than hunt mice and yowl at each other.  Card games?  Pizza parties? 

Oh!  And in other cat news, Wanders the foster has decided that any cat coming anywhere near her at any time is cause for hissing and spitting and caterwauling.  I'd like to integrate her more into the household, but she's gotta learn that another cat LOOKING AT HER is not grounds for throwing a fit.  And it's so funny - My guys are all, like, "What's HER problem?  Jeeeez." 

My arms hurt today.  It was a shopping-induced injury.  I knew it was gonna happen.  I had to stand in line for forty-five minutes at the Thrifty Shopper on Saturday, with my arms full of clothes, and even though I kept trying to shift the weight from arm to arm ... yeah.  What's that?  Use a shopping cart, you say?  HA.  Shopping carts are rarer than hen's teeth at the Thrifty Shopper half-off sales.  I woulda had to beat up a gramma for one, and NO fantastic shopping deal is worth going to jail for.

and at this point you're all, like, TLDR TLDR TLDR! and guess what?  I'm gonna keep talking.

I did a shift at the adoption center Sunday.  It was almost my last one.

The gal who "runs" the adoption center is becoming increasingly disorganized.  There's all this drama going on over there, where supposedly that gal is going to break off from the main group and start her OWN rescue group and blahblahblah cat people drama I don't care, but things are all haphazard at the center.  (Note:  The rescue group that runs this center is NOT the one that I volunteer and foster for.  NOT the one I was pimping on the radio. All I do for this group is the occasional adoption-center stint.)  On Sunday, there was one cage with three young kittens in it.  Except their cage card (that identifies the animals, gives their names and adoption fees, etc.) only listed two cats.  Hmmm.  And had no identifying info.  And listed that one of the cats had been adopted, but did not say which one.  Wheeeee!  I get to guess!  Jeezus Christ.  I was able to determine that one of the kittens was a boy, by looking, but the other two were indeterminate, and oh!  Those two were identical.  Identical black kittens.

So ... you can guess what happened.  Everybody wanted to visit with the kittens.  Everybody wanted to know if they were boys or girls.  Everybody wanted to know which one had already been adopted and which ones were still adoptable.  And I ... had nothin'.  Good times!

And I was in a sh*t mood when I got there anyway, because the vacuum cleaner went kerflooey that morning, and instead of taking it outside to take it apart, I did it right there on the living floor, thinking to myself, "You know this is gonna make a mess.  You really SHOULD take it outside ..."  but of course I didn't, and of course I ended up with a giant vacuum cleaner mess all over the floor, and I NEVER LISTEN.  To myself.

But!  In brighter news, I put up some halloween decorations, including the giant rats, and Soda ... Soda thought they were REAL.  I put them in the yard, and he came trotting across the grass, saw the rats, and STOPPED DEAD.  He was all, like, "WTF?  WTF IS THAT?"  And he kind of sidled across the yard, getting a little closer and then jumping back, until he was close enough to determine that our neighborhood had not, in fact, been taken over by giant mutant rats.  And then he gave me look that was all, "Ha ha, you almost got me, human lady.  I think there's something WRONG with you."

Hey, *I* thought it was funny.