Curiosity Killed the cat (and possibly the dog ) . . .

This last week has been a exercise in " Just how friggin' dedicated are you to being a parent to fur children?"

After the now infamous "Coon-Cinara" incident, where both dogs decided to nap on the rug , just inside the door where the EIGHT  friggin' racoons were feasting on our garbage , it all went downhill from there.



The next day following Bill's Coon-Cinara, we took the cats to the vet to get their shots and flea treatment, harmless enough, right ? Feeling like good and responsible fur-parents , we remembered we needed flea pill and heartgaurd for the Dogs as well. The Vet reccommended a pill called Trifexis , which allegedly would handle fleas, ticks, ear-mites , worms AND heartworms in one fell swoop, we bought it hook line and sinker.
She said make sure they have a full stomach, and they even got us to spend $8 on a bag of those little pill pockets to put the damn things in. In smokehouse steak flavor no less ! So home we went to give our fur-kids their medicine.

First , I gave them each a container of soft food ( vet said full stomach). Then I put the (horrifically expensive) little pill in the (over-priced) little pill pocket smelling of steak, then I fed one to each doggie , and sat back in my chair for about 45  minutes , feeling like I had everything in life totally together and was just about the most organized and efficient Mom in the whole world . And then . . . I heard it , the sound of violent animal retching . . . coming from behind Bill's recliner . . . and then came the smell. Something akin to the odor that would be produced if a skunk crawled up the ass-end of a dead rhino and them some how managed to get shit out and vomit post-mortem. As I returned to the scene of the crime with my nostrils full of Vicks vapo-rub and the rug-shampooer in my hand , I was greeted by the delightful sound of doggie diarreah ( you have no idea just how delightful this sound can be , until your looking down the barrel of 4 areas of puke already ) as it splatters upon your brand new area rug , and you let out a little whimper of defeat. Thanks to the vet from hell, we ended up with Dog Crap & Puke-A-palooza. I must remember to thank her.

The day following Crap-A-palooza , we had to take a trip to the city . I decided to bring along my boig basket of Wednesday's old clothes  to take to the consignment store and trade in on some new things for when school starts ( call me cheap if you want to , but after your 10th cutesy-wootsy ,everything matching woefully expensive Gymboree ensemble gets covered in red mud and charcoal , or house paint, or any number of things that will NOT wash out for love nor money, you learn NOT to spend any more than you have to on their clothing etc ) i had been collecting things in the basket in the living room since we moved in here , a little bit each time i did a load of laundry , in the hopes of someday taking them there and doing something both economically friendly AND more importantly ENVIRONMENTALLY  friendly for once. As I arrived at the consignment store, lugging my big basket of clean clothes on my hip feeling SOOOOO very eco-friendly and environmentally responsible , I was on  cloud nine! Bill was complementing me on my navigation of the budget , I felt like wonder woman ! We had the best time shopping for her new duds , being careful not to spend more than approximately twice what we should be getting from the sale of her gently used things. Essentially , we should get about half off our purchase in exchange for her stuff, in theory . . . And then , it happened. The nice sales lady informed me that  they had to pass on my basket because apparently Miss Cat decided to not only take a nap in my basket ( thus leaving black cat hair ) but also ( possibly as some sort of vendetta ) had taken a DUMP in the basket and then buried it among the clothes.
My sales lady , was of course informed of this by another sales lady AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS ! So now everyone in the store had to turn and look at cat-shit-lady. Just the sort of celebrity I had always hoped to achieve . Yea.

After paying full price for her Purchase, Cat-shit-lady drove back to Mayberry , thinking of various ways to kill small animals . . . As of yet the only one of the four NOT to have comitted a hell-worthy trespass this week is Mr. Cat, and he must sense that there is something in the air , because he has refused to come inside the house since the day I was crowned " cat-Shit-Lady".

As for the rest of them. . . . if you live in Mayberry, and happen to be driving near Lilac Avenue at some odd hour of the night ,and hear the squalling of small animals , please think nothing of it and continue to drive. And if you see me sporting a cat-skin-cap and some lovley dog-fur moccasins , just shrug and look the other way .
Sincerely,
The Bat-Shit -Crazy, Cat-Shit-Lady of Lilac Avenue

( that ALMOST sounds like a childrens book , dosen't it ?)


( does anybody know which publishing house published " Go the fuck to sleep" )


(do you have their number ?)