My cheese has slid off the cracker, I know this. I think that's better than people who are messed up and blissfully unaware, because I can apologize from time to time for the full frontal crazy and keep my expectations of myself low. And partners know when you're nuts, but when they say something it's time to get the trisket and havarti back in line, time to get those two together and deal.
"You're going to be 12 people I don't know until you get a cat."
And with that fabulous husband took some allergy meds and ourselves and good friend Aunki went off to 11 River Street to pick out a new friend. Took too long to decide and they'd shut down adoptions for the night by the time we narrowed it down to five. Upon coming home, realized the list was 11 and went through point by point, pro's and cons of each. There is a tabby named Liza that had Ross been on his own would be chasing bells around the hall right now, possibly all night. I think she's a bit high energy and I kind of like the fat ones - they're mellow, easy to find and with our stairs wouldn't stay too fat for long. Just the way it is. Of the fat ones I liked Angus (white with orange spots) and Booty (calico, really hopeful), the later having a name subject to change. Of the cats I liked that were vetoed there was Kissy, who qualifies for the Cats who Look Like Hitler project and who I think would be an excellent mouser but unlikely to win any intellectual awards and Columbo, big orange and affectionate Bengal looking cat who also looks like a guy Ross went to high school with who was a jerk.
And it has been made very clear that I cannot bring home Goliath.
If you're free this weekend, so see Goliath. If you're brave, you might adopt him, he's free this weekend too. If you're curious, you just gotta see this cat. We had a 25lber before - this cat's shadow weights that. With the grey colouraiton he most closely resembles a harbour seal and must be kept in a double cage - in truth he is the size of our friends beagle and could likely win a fight. His crime - soiling the house upon birth of new baby. Fair enough, the new baby would have been the size of his head and the attention thought to be undo. It's also hard for a cat that size to get into a mortal litter box and you'd have to pepper the house with them to make them handy for taxed knees to get to. Ross wants something with the possibility of catching a mouse and I confess I'm partial to cats capable of self cleaning; Goliath may be able to fall on a mouse and kill it that way, or perhaps he has laser vision or some such but he seems pretty clean.
There was another fat cat there (or fur turtle, as they are also called) who was not so fortunate. Back end looked disgusting and he knew it. It may have been my 12 person crazy convention but it seemed that every time someone in a Society shirt walked by, he meowed hysterically and turned his back end to the gate as if to say "I hate you! You knew they were all coming tonight and you didn't fix this! No one is going to adopt me with my ass covered in crap! I can't reach back there! Help!"
And then there's Daisy, who's at a vets around the corner from where I work. Under her "pro" column it read "perfect in every way" and under "con" was "costs $75".
And upon coming home I got an email from a gentleman who posted a cat on craiglist. It's not his cat, it's living under a shed on the U of T campus but he'll only tell me where it is if I promise to take it home. I'll only promise to take it home if upon meeting it (the cats name would be professor Archibald Butterworth) I liked the cat. We are at an impasse, this stranger and I.
The saga continues.