Black Doggerel

after overdoing teh chat all week in my usual style, i find today that the tips of my typing fingers are bruised or something and it hurts like hell to touch anything with them. elbow is also kinda fucked. I can type but it must be done veeeeeeeery slooooooow and gentle.

moderation and i have never been anything other than very distant nodding acquaintances.

i will return. soon.

in other news, cassie cat went for her pre-spay checkup, was pronounced to be in excellent shape by nice vet, and is having her annoying girlyparts excised on wednesday. lucky bitch.

in other, other news, my mother is going to take Blade kitten. manicmiranda - you still have first refusal but I get the feeling not having heard from you indicates a no?

mum says she's still thinking about it but she has renamed him Hamish. I know a done deal when I see one.

two down, one to go. I can't believe no one on this continent wants Evil Elda. she may be an antisocial sadistic little monster but she's cute, endlessly entertaining and easily the most intelligent of the kittens. she also has the most stunning enormous amber eyes. ah well. we'll think of something.

More good news: my downstairs neighbour's Jack Russell Terrier is at home and recovering well, altghough he tells me she'll be on cage rest and having to be carried out to pee for some weeks yet. YAYYYY!

in other news... my pets just made me puke, and if I write the details down I might puke again. Let's just say that sympathetic pukers probably shouldn't own dogs that puke more often than they sneeze, or evil cats with inquiring minds and indiscriminate appetites.

urgh.

My lipsalve rolled off my desktop and I had Shona on my lap, so I made a mental note to fish it out from under the desk later.

Heard a clattery noise just now, and there's Evil Elda playing football with it all up and down the hallway. She loves that smooth hard floor there and the way she can make things (or herself) skid all over it...

Evil Elda must have thought I needed a distraction last night, because she pulled her disappearing act again. This time I wasn't going to panic, but I didn't want to go to bed without being sure of where she was - besides, I wanted to open the windows. So I sat in the cat room and played with the others (Blade sat in my lap unprompted! He does like people, though not as much as Shona does - he just doesn't like being grabbed). Spent three hours alternately chilling with the kittens and sort of searching the flat, but I was sure she was hiding in the bedroom again.

Nope. This time she'd managed to get herself shut in the cupboard under the kitchen sink.

Edited to add: I just remembered: I knew the day they were born she'd be the troublemaker...

Holy fucking shit these fucking kittens are going to be the fucking DEATH of me.

I have just spent an HOUR AND A FUCKING HALF searching my flat for an orange and white kitten.

Spike couldn't find her (but I had him searching the wrong room so not his fault. He tried.) Cassie's too busy yowling for sex to care. I searched the cupboards. I searched the fridge. I turned the dog couch upside down in case she'd managed to crawl up into the springs. I was starting to think about prying the side panel off the bathtub. I even looked out-fucking-side, and she'd have to walk through walls to get there.

I'd reached the point of praying out loud with TEARS running down my face when she casually strolled up behind me in the bedroom, yawning and obviously just having woken up from a nice long sleep while I'd been imploding and the other three had been crackmonkeying around the flat.

I still don't know where the fuck she was.

I need a fucking drink now.

...and am now praying out loud with gratitude, for the record.