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Jun. 27th, 2008
Mind if I Gripe?
Jun. 27th, 2008 10:57 pmSigh. Thank goodness that tomorrow is Saturday because today wasn't so great.
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this:
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this:
Mind if I Gripe?
Jun. 27th, 2008 10:57 pmSigh. Thank goodness that tomorrow is Saturday because today wasn't so great.
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this:
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this:
Mind if I Gripe?
Jun. 27th, 2008 10:57 pmSigh. Thank goodness that tomorrow is Saturday because today wasn't so great.
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this:
First thing this morning, the house was too quiet. Quiet in a way that pinged my "something isn't right" button. Living with a pet means learning their habits (or the pet learning ours). My alarm clock goes off, and my cat usually jumps on the bed and visits, and if she doesn't she shows up begging for food and/or water. But she was no where to be found. And I mean nowhere to be found. I searched the house for 45 minutes (and my house isn't very big). I searched the closets, under the beds, under furniture... I called her, tempted her with treats, tempted her with ice cream, listened intently for her bell and nothing. And since the last time I had seen her was feeding her at 10:30 last night and no door had been opened since, she had to be in the house somewhere.
However, I was already late for work. I called my mom and asked if she would please come over and look for my cat. Unfortunately, my sister had already placed first claim on her. My sister has hit total panic mode on her house (and yes, she's still BSC over the house) and since I -- you know -- have a job, my sister has drafted mom as chief hand-holder and aide to making decisions (before she retired, my mother was an interior decorator so she does have a lot of background in this area, although she has reached the point of "please, don't make me go to that house every day"). Anyway, by the time I had called, my sister had already abducted Mom and was taking her to "that house" leaving Mom to say that I should press my Dad into coming over to search for the cat.
He apparently came over, couldn't find her, and... invited my next door neighbor, another retired man in his 70s, to help him search the house(?!?!) I really don't know how I feel about that. I'm just grateful that the house was reasonably clean. At any rate, my cat did eventually show up without anyone ever finding wherever the hell she had been hiding. But, Dad noticed that she was hopping and apparently she had gotten her paw stuck in her collar.
So I get a call at work from my mother... who my father had called...asking how to pick up the cat.
::blink::
Wha?
I figure that the cat would be pissy about her paw being stuck, but it's not like she's unfamiliar with my Dad. And it's not like my Dad is unfamiliar with cats since I've had one my entire life, and mom has her own (that she and he indulge shamelessly). And, besides, my cat doesn't have front claws and weighs all of 6 lbs! How tough could it possibly be?
Apparently tough because a couple of hours later Mom called saying that Carly (my cat) had scratched my Dad and he'd become convinced it was a [mother's sarcasm] mortal wound [/ mother's sarcasm] and had driven all the way to 'that house' (which is about 20 minutes from my house - one way) to steal my mom from my sister so that she could come over to my house and pick up the 6 lb cat and extract her poor little paw from her collar, which he apparently solved by cutting the damn thing off (the collar, not the paw).
You know, it would have SNAPPED off if he'd just caught the collar. It's a safety collar.
Anyway. She's freed. Seems fine, and I bought a new collar. And as stupid as the whole thing seems now, I was worried this morning when I couldn't find her.
( work bitching follows )
Sigh.
Little wonder I was lazy and just stopped to pick up sushi for dinner. Wasn't in the mood to cook.
And Dr. Who was on, and I suspect that I didn't resent River Song nearly as much as many people do.
Oh, and I want a little David Vickers just like on OLTL (No, not the big David Vickers. He's a brawney though hilarious guy and is a sunshine in his own right, but in this case I mean little David Vickers, the adorable shitzu that was recently introduced with the explanation that Tina had named her dog after her ex-husband (LOL!).
No pictures of the little soap star but he looks roughly like this: