A quest to make sense of it all. Or a sense to make a quest of it all.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Catless.

That's right. My baby, my son... my Lebowski. Since I couldn't bring him to Corinth and no one could take him, I had to take him to the shelter today. They have instructions to call me if no one adopts him and if they're going to put him down. In that case, I'll come get him and do SOMEthing. I probably seemed like the biggest freak today, handing over all his accessories.

"Here's his favorite mouse toy. *sniffle* This is his frog on a stick toy, but you have to take it away from him or he'll exhaust himself. Here's his food, he's not picky but don't give him Special Kitty canned food because I heard it causes liver problems. *sniffle*"

This really sucks. You don't meet many creatures in your life who love you unconditionally, and tonight, one of the few I've met is sleeping in a cage all alone with strange dogs barking on the other side of the wall.

Am I the biggest loser in the world? My husband thinks this situation is funny. He actually "humorously" patted me on the head.

*goes to look for a knife*

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

It's like an 80's comedy.


Friday night, I believe. Luke and I were enjoying a Grey's Anatomy marathon. Somewhere around the time the She-Shephard showed up and announced herself as McDreamy's wife, my sickly terrier must have quietly thrown up right in front of the chair I was sitting in. No one noticed. When the episode ended, I jumped up to change the disc and my bare foot landed in dog vomit. I shrieked like a banshee and hopped-ran to the bathroom to wash my foot as Luke bounded off the couch to fetch paper towels. He quickly set about wiping up the mess as I turned on the bathtub faucet and switched the flow to my handheld shower head. I clumsily plopped down on the edge of the tub, and as I swung my foot over the egde, my whole body fell into the tub, pulling down the shower curtain and the curtain rod. As I flailed under a tangle of plastic and polyester and tried to catch the spinning shower head that was spraying water all over me and the bathroom, my husband came running into the bathroom to throw the paper towels (!) into the toilet and to see what the hell was going on (the banshee noises had reached a new high). He simultaneously flushed the toilet and skidded into the doorjamb, where he stubbed his toe hard enough to make him bellow like some horribly wounded forest beast. Immediately, the toilet backed up and overflowed just as I was shutting off the water and climbing over the edge of the tub and into the floor.

The mop broke during cleanup.

The next morning, our neighbor asked me if everything was ok, since they thought they had heard "a fuss".