I’m… expecting… kittens! TWO of them! They’ll live in my room! They will be fuzzy! They are the cutest things on the face of the earth! It will be the best thing ever. I just couldn’t keep that to myself anymore. 🙂
Trevor the rat, whom most of you are familiar with, passed away this last Wednesday. He had a chronic respiratory condition which constant medication was only helping up to a certain point, so I suppose it was inevitable. Still, a rodentless kennel is a sad sight. Goodbye, Trev.
The name of that little black cat that might or might not live with us, depending on her whim (the probability of either is equally likely on any given day until I actually go out and check every morning) of the day? Schrödinger. Okay, okay, nothing original, but it amuses me. So nyah.
*scratches head* So, um, I guess I’ve just been adopted. Remember Little Black Neighbor Cat, who seems to think hanging out under my car when I want to drive it and making me play swat-the-kitty-away (“Who’s a pretty girl? *pet pet* You don’t want to be a furry pancake, do you? *stroke* No you don’t. No you don’t. *scritchy scritchy* So move your furry ass.”) is the best way to ingratiate herself? She’s been spending more and more time here lately. My mother, having one foot still firmly in the old ways, doesn’t approve of her coloration at all (“Calico …
No ratsitter. I am ratsitterless. Ratsitter, nought. I’d had this worked out weeks ago. What happened? I’m leaving tomorrow. Oh, damn.