Thursday, August 2, 2012

We bought a disintegrator

It's been a quiet week so far. I cleaned up the basement and tried to figure out what to do with all of my cat-related stuff. I do not plan to take in any more kitty cats. I have lived with cats all my life and I adore them, but I have two little problems: 1. I do dog rescue and 2. I'm allergic. My dogs are not vicious by any stretch but if a cat runs, they will give chase. And when you have three big dogs doing the chasing, the pack mentality sort of takes over. It's not fun for the feline. For those who manage to have lots of dogs and cats living together successfully, my hat is off to you.

Until Ella was gone, I didn't realize how much cat paraphernalia we had downstairs. There were toys, scratching posts, beds, and catnip. Also, a lot of hair. I didn't vacuum down there too frequently because Ella had a coronary event every time she heard the vacuum cleaner. When we first bought our house, I purchased a carpeted, multi-level cat condo sort of thing.  I've reached out to some cat rescues, as I'd like to donate it (I will scrape the hair and vomit off first). I've had a few responses, so I'm hoping it will be put to good use for some other kitties.  I think I can find a good home for the cat dishes and other re-usable items, too. I will keep her cat carrier because I've needed it a few times to haul injured wildlife over to our local sanctuary.

[Warning: 'Claudia might be crazy' alert] Ella came back to me for a brief moment on Monday night. I was lying in bed and she mewed just once and then she was gone. It was comforting in a way. After Lucy Annabel died, she came back once or twice. I heard her tags jingling one night. She used to sleep with me (she was an excellent spooner) and for just a moment, I knew she there. I think it must get harder for them to come back after some time has passed. Then again, I am not one with a lot of psychic abilities so I'm not sure how these things work.

The only other excitement we've had this week is that we purchased a new dehumidifier for the basement. The kid can never remember what it's called and has referred to it as the disintegrator, the fumigator, and possibly even the detonator. I'm actually pleasantly surprised that my other half accepted this assignment when I gave it to him. He tends to get a little bit passive-aggressive when it comes to requests from the ball and chain. Our gutters, in case you wondered, now have small trees sprouting out of them. I pointed out to him a while ago that the old dehumidifier was not working properly. It would freeze up - literally. The thing would suck up water for a while and then develop a solid block of ice on the back of the machine. I suggested that we needed a new one, in as much as the one we had was 14 years old and had made its retirement plans pretty clear. "What are you talking about?" asked my husband. "It works fine!" (Makes a humming noise = "works just fine.")

I pointed to the iceberg attached to the filter on the back. "A polar bear could live on this," I noted. "There are probably, like, seals and fish living underneath."  Anyway, he relented and brought home the new one.

So, that's my week so far. Oh, I'm back to counting my points and doing the Weight Watchers thing. I fell off the wagon, I guess. Again. Some days I just want to buy a muumuu and be done with it.

Pack of Doofuses

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