After the Recharge and a very scary, very early ride home during the very scary thunderstorm/downpour complete with big scary semis passing me every now and then, I got home to find PA actually asleep on the couch. I wasn't expecting him. I never do unless I have to go to school and then he doesn't show up until I've been gone for at least an hour. Whatever. I'm not here to bitch about him necessarily. Well, no I'll still bitch about him.
What I found that morning was a sleeping grown child and a bouncing barking dog. I said hello to the child and pet the pooch, but I noticed something was missing from my routine animal greeting. My cat was not saying hello. Hmmm... I asked the grown child were she was and he looked and called for her. Still no feline. Hmmm. It was pouring rain outside, and our baby kitty was somewhere out there. My heart sunk to my stomach were it proceeded to nauseate my poor tummy.
What happened was that he had some friends over, and they got drunk and rowdy. Our coffee table is broken from a testosterone fueled wrestling match. At some point in time as they went back and forth from the porch and the livingroom, the cat snuck out. Damn cat was probably trying to find peace and quiet. I'm sure Chika was having a panic attack in the Boy's room with all the commotion.
Ohhh. Shit. The kids. What do I do? The kids came home from the GP's house , and their reaction was to be expected. Pinkie started fretting. I swear she can fret like the best of them. I think she gets that from me. It rained all day. I thought surely with the weather being nasty and the kids being tired and bored then the day was going to suck ass. But they both tried to keep positive. Nothing's for certain. Somehow they already know this crazy fact of life.
Sunday we walked through the neighborhood and put up posters begging for the return of our precious puddin-tat. It wasn't a good sign that on one of the poles that we put our flier on was another flier for the same type of cat but gone by that point for a month. I bit my lip and kept going. It's now been a week. I've been to the humane society. No luck there, but I'll keep trying. To bad the REAL owner of the cat hasn't tried looking for her. Hmmm....
Now to pet number 2. Nemo our longest living fish has been fighting some kind of fungal thing. eew. Yesterday I watched the poor fish swim very quickly straight down and smack his face on the ground. That had to hurt. One thought ran through my mind, but since life has dealt a rough one for most of my friends I'll not say what I thought he was doing.
The good side of this is that I'm down to 1 furry stinkball and 1 wet fish. And since I brought almost all of the plants inside(19 so far and already given a few away), I'm glad the number of lives I'm responsible for has dropped even if it's just by 2.
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