Monday, September 28, 2009

I am not talking about a floating vessel

So it's taken me a few days to even type this one out.
We only had our sweet cat Canoe for six short months. Six months of watching him grow, making friends with the neighbors' four cats and their bunny, losing five collars, growing legs that would just walk right over our dogs, playing with the dogs like down and out tumbling and roughhousing, even Sherman grew attached to him, sleeping in the neighbor's bunny cage with the bunny, killing five birds in one week, nibbling elbows while we slept, sleeping in contorted ways, talking all the time.
Canoe got hit by a car Wednesday night, and it really wasn't at all like getting hit, it was like getting run over and having the teenage girl in the bronco slam on her brakes, skid four feet and drag parts of my kitty's body apart from him.
It was horrible.
We had to rush him to an animal ER and watch him SUFFER without parts of his body and the whole suffering part just killed me. I bawled. and then bawled some more and then was literally ill for 24 hours afterward. I think I was able to shield most of the damage from the girls. I flew like a wild banshee to get a towel to hold him together with and they didn't go back to the room until we said goodbye and he was covered so they wouldn't have to witness the carnage.
I can not get the image out of my head. And it still hurts.
S is asking for another cat already and I am not ready. It absolutely breaks my heart to watch animals suffer.
People, ie: teenagers, PLEASE SLOW DOWN. For the love of Canoe, please slow down when driving a car. There are children in residential neighborhoods and you may not be lucky enough to be spared by only killing my cat. You may actually hit a child.
There is nowhere THAT DAMN IMPORTANT for you to be driving to.

R.I.P. Canoe. I honestly think you were put on this earth to show someone that has previously had the cops called on her for speeding at least two times, that she could hit a child and she wouldn't be able to live with that.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

My dog eats crayons

I sayeth to him:

"If you would like to have a poo in the house go to blame on someone else, it would be most helpful to not have it multicolored with crayon."

Sunday, September 13, 2009

And I follow that last one up with....

I really love my husband.

I don't say that enough.

I can sure bitch and moan about people I work with and annoying driving habits of everyone, but myself, on the road. But I don't nearly spend enough time saying how much I love things.

The husband can surely get on my nerves at times, especially when I am lethally hungry, but for the majority of the time, I just watch him, doing what he does, and I. Love. Him.

I love my girls too. They keep doing the horrible growing up thing, but I continue to love them. I get adorable photos where I can catch them still looking like my babies, but I don't admit that to them, because if they knew that I could still catch them, then they'd make sure I didn't catch another one again.

My spunky B wanted (yes, wanted) to go on the scary carnie ferris-wheel last night and wanted to ride with her dad, and she was not scared for one second. S and I, on the otherhand, talked each other into riding together and held each other as close as one can hug one another on a rocking ferris-wheel without rocking it unnecessarily. We squealed together and when the ride stopped and then took us backwards S said "I don't know why I got on this thing!" and we both giggled nervously. B kept asking the husband if S was okay behind us and would even turn around to check on us. S and I barely moved. The mere thought of turning around made our stomachs hurt. Once we got off, we realized it was all good. We didn't die. The carnival ride held up to our wild ride. We are that much stronger now. A hurdle that we jumped with ease.

We got home far too late last night and we feel like we have a slight hangover, even though there was no booze involved. So we've been lounging around, playing with toys, doing laundry, watching really bad part two of the ongoing saga of the little orphan Annie. Oh, it's horrible. It's a good thing we only borrowed it from the library or we may have had to demand our money back.

It's been a breezy, overcast day with a few sprinkles and I adore weather like this. Too bad we feel like we've been beat, or we may be out on bikes or hiking. But, ah, one needs to lay around like a slug every once in a while, right?

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Who's an ass?

Who, you ask?

Wait. You didn't ask.

In case anyone doesn't have one of their own or would like to know...

I know a real ass.