Ah, dear readers... We meet again.
It has been a while. First, my hard drive decided it was time for an expensive vacay and went to the shop for a fortnight of R&R. Then, once it got back home, I got busy and blog-lazy. Then when I freed up, the cable/internet inexplicably stopped. And for some reason, it takes like 48 hours (ok, not really, but it feels like it!) on the phone with a rep to troubleshoot, only to find out it will be 48 hours before a service technician can make a house call. And now, I can't remember what I even wanted to say. Go figure.
So where did we leave off? Hmmm... Let's see... I was probably trying to start some weird new diet, obsessing about work, griping about the govmint again, and prattling endlessly about my cats. Sound about right? Well, it doesn't narrow it down much, but at least it shouldn't be hard to jump right in where I left off!
Well, in my unrelenting quest to become the craziest Crazy Cat Lady in the history of all Crazy Cat Ladies, I have since adopted yet another cat. This one tugged at my heart a little... So I get this e-mail from my old pal Robert Wood, titled "Cat Emergency". The message goes on to explain how this guy (who lives in the same apartment complex as one of Robert's friends in Danville) is being... shall we say, er, "detained" for the next eight to ten years. And said felon left behind a now-orphaned kitty. Apparently he had been an inside cat, because now that he's homeless, he's continually trying to run inside anytime one of the apartment doors opens. Sad, sad sitch... and long story short, I caved. The e-mail from Robert closed with, "Crazy Cat Lady, won't you help?" Honestly, it made me physically sick to my stomach, the thought of having this many cats. It's so completely creepy. But within a day and a half (before buyer's remorse had a chance to set it, I suspect), Robert showed up with the little lass.
Turns out, the kitty is a sweet little thing... very friendly and "talkative". But he had no home, no owner and no prospects, and it didn't take but a nano-second to decide that he needed me. So allow me to introduce the newest member of the feline brood, Mr. Jabbers.
So far, so good... everyone seems to be getting along. Boodle didn't care much for him at first, but even she has come around now; he and Smidgey were fast friends. Within the first week, Mr. J went off to see the vet for the ol' snip & clip procedure and a nasty drooling problem. Come to find out, he had both his baby teeth and his adult teeth, which was causing some trouble. Now that he's feeling better, he's showing a lot of personality. And now I'm both financially and emotionally invested in the little guy.
And before you judge too harshly about my recent choice of pet names, keep in mind that I had a rabbit named Scarlett O'Hare as a child (yes, I was truly obsessed with Gone With the Wind through my early teen years). So as quirky as the Mr. Jabbers moniker is, trust me... it's a step up. So a final disclaimer from me: No. More. Pets. Seriously! I don't care what kind of sob story you lay on me next time, people, I'm at my limit. On the upside, I should be far less likely to be gallopping all over the countryside, feeding the stray cats. And now that I have a two-seater, there's not nearly as much room for cans of cat food. I'll just stay home and continue the benevolent feline ministry from here, thank you very much!
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