Looks like we won’t be invited to go watch the fireworks with the Cool Kids at the Capitol this year.
I think I doomed us when I inquired about the alleged President’s health after his colonoscopy on Saturday. I don’t understand why – I only asked if the doctors had found his head. Some people can’t take a joke.
I met a very cute little kitty yesterday. She was going to live with us for a few weeks while her mommy finds a new place to live. The poor little thing was pretty stressed from her second move in a week, but she seemed to be okay with being here. Unfortunately, we learned just how allergic to a cat I can be, and it quickly became obvious that we needed to return her.
I picked her up and cuddled her as I was taking her back to the carrier. She purred and purred, breaking my heart. (At this point the allergy medicine was coursing through my veins and the rational part of my brain had shut down). Just as I started to waiver about returning her she saw the cat carrier and decided to break my skin to match my heart.
Now, usually it’s a struggle to get a cat into the carrier, but once they’re in, well, they’re in. With this in mind, I certainly wasn’t expecting this tiny little ball of cat to become a winged hell beast from the planet Twylar.
As I was latching the carrier door she launched herself against it, hooking her paw through the bars and planting her claws into my hand. When I pulled back, cat still attached to my hand, I pulled opened the door and pulled the cat out with it. Now, most cats would let go and run and hide. Not this one. She attacked. I’m just thankful I was wearing long pants. Looking at my hands you’d think I’d gone a few rounds with tiny vampires. Kitty’s going to have to refine her technique, though, if she plans to go Pro. She missed my veins by mere millimeters at least a dozen times. When I got her back into the cage we had to use a towel over the door to latch it. I’ve really never seen anything like it.
Husband took the cat back while I cleaned up the blood (all mine) and took a shower. I feel terrible we couldn’t keep the kitty, but I feel even worse that Husband didn’t think to warn them when he returned her. I’m hoping that no one lost an eye when they opened the carrier. She really is a sweet little kitty and she’s been under a terrible amount of stress. She wasn’t being malicious, she was just freaked out. And I’m not just saying that because her mommy is a blogger…
Yesterday, if you and your dog test-drove a Saab at some place called “You Lucky Dog”, Saab donated 20 bucks to an Arlington Dog group. I didn’t go, but our friends went to test-drive a 9-3 for me. (How very lazy, outsourcing your test-driving). I’m still waiting for a full report. From the driver, not the dog. Dogs apparently love Saabs unreservedly.
Next time Batty bemoans her unfinished dissertation, point out to her that playing the IKEA game probably isn’t the most productive thing to be spending her time on.
After playing with Batty and Bunny (and Bunny’s groovy cat) I dropped by the in-law’s house. Sister-in-law was also out of town so I was hanging out with brother-in-law and baby.
He: “What are you doing for dinner?”
Me: “I don’t know. Fresca and microwave popcorn probably.”
He: “I had that last night. How about ordering Indian?”
We broke with the tradition of bad eating while our SO’s were out of town and ate real food. We were feeling pride all out of proportion to that little achievement. The baby had zonked out and the toddler was over at Grandma’s so we could have an actual convesation while we ate. Actually, he told me long involved stories (we’re Southerners, in case you forgot) and I could nod, make grunting noises at appropriate intervals and otherwise feed like a rabid wolverine. Then I came home and watched more Buffy.