There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


You are my density.

To say that I'm having one of "those" days wouldn't even begin to describe the fuckulent way the world is dealing with me today.

To illustrate: This morning when I got back from being dragged all over my neighborhood by my spectacularly disobedient dogs, I turned on the sprinkler to water the weed patch in my front yard. I noticed after I did it that one of my cats was sitting under a bush in the weed patch. "Uh-oh. Kitty gonna get wet," I thought. When I left the house 40 minutes later, she was still sitting there, damp, glaring visible hate daggers at me. That's precisely how I feel.

In the next few days, I have to get 3 kittens vaccinated, their mom spayed and vaccinated, clothes to last for 6 months packed, my house cleaned, and a whole bunch of other crap.

Last night when I got home, I walked into the monkey's bedroom to look at the kittens. They were all up on the monkey's bed, playing with cat toys. "Awwww," I thought. "That's sooo cute." One of them had its little front paws wrapped around the head of a catnip mouse and was clawing the hell out of the torso of the mouse with its back legs. "Awww. That little baby is pretending to hunt and kill a rat," I thought. Then I screamed and ran out of the room.

I'm really not a filthy person, although no one would say I'm neat and clean. Why rats keep finding my home the best place to live in the universe is a mystery to me.

Yup, the kitten was playing with a real (dead) rat -- bite, bite, claw, claw, pounce. I wish I had Web cams in every room of my house so I could solve the mystery of how the rat became a dead rat. It wasn't chewed on at all, which leads me to believe that the mommy cat didn't catch it. She probably would have bitten its head off. Yet it was dry, which leads me to believe that Buster and Katy didn't kill it, since their method of killing rodents includes flinging them and catching them, chewing on them, and basically torturing them to (almost) death. Of course, it was also cold and stiff, which meant it could have been dead for hours.

I guess I just have to resign myself to living like a Clampett (before Jed found the black gold). I already pretty much have the same hair as Ellie Mae, who was, of course, the spiritual predecessor to Daisy Duke. Oh, don't tell me you've never noticed the resemblance before.

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birth & death