2013-10-08 - 8:42 p.m.

Yesterday I decided it was a good day to see what that new cat did when left to her own choices. So, I let her go out when she wanted and come in when she wanted and I didn't make her come in for good at the normal five o'clock hour...I just waited to see what she would do, what her "natural" time for coming in would be. And it turned out to be 7:30 this morning. So I was up all night again. And it turned out to be quite a night.

I set the camera up downstairs to watch the patio door that she normally comes to when she's ready to come in. So I was half watching it while I was half watching TV and I saw a mouse running around in front of the door. Except it was INSIDE not OUTSIDE. So I ran downstairs and already two cats were on it. I chased the cats away and put them in the garage and the mouse was just sitting there until I started walking towards it and then it ran into the spare bedroom. I had no idea what to do. I tried for a while to catch it but I had no luck and it ran into a closet that was just packed with stuff. And I was so tired. So I just decided to give up for a while. That is was safe in the closet and would probably stay there forever and build a nest and whatever. So I got back into bed and half watched TV, half watched the camera. And fifteen minutes later my cat Daisy sauntered into the room with the mouse in her mouth. I chased her around for a while, trying to get the mouse. At one point she dropped it and it moved ever so slightly and I was horrified that it was suffering so much so I amped up my attempts to get it away from her and she amped up her technique at preventing me from getting it away from her and she finally ran under my bed (this had been going on for about fifteen minutes) and I couldn't get her and I just had to let it go. And I was so exhausted that even when she emerged from under the bed all satisfied and happy, I couldn't even muster the energy to move the bed and remove whatever remains of the mouse there were. So I slept all night with a dead mouse (or as I found out this morning when I finally got around to cleaning it up, a half a mouse and a pile of guts) under my bed.

And, this morning when I went to the garage to let the cats out, I found a dead chipmunk. Cats are fucking assholes. Even more reason to get your cats fixed man, we sure don't need these killers out there. They are awful.

So. Today I got all the god damn cats in at the normal time. In fact, Miss Fluffy was sound asleep on the heating pad at noon today after her night out and I closed the door so she couldn't go back out even when she wanted to at three. Tomorrow is a work day and Eric is going on a business trip tomorrow which means he won't be here as back up if I don't get all the cats in before I leave for work tomorrow. Which sucks. I hate to make them all stay in tomorrow, it's so nice out! But do I really want the stress involved if one doesn't come home before I leave for work? They've been total shits this summer. Last year was OK...there were only a couple incidents when a cat wasn't here for round up. This year it's been horrible. I have two repeat offenders....Toot and Sully, they've been fuckers.

In other cat news. Bear continues to be the same. I swear to god he's been getting better the last couple weeks though. Which is confounding and I sure wish I had another thousand dollars to spend on diagnostics. But I sure don't have it. So...I just continue to obsess over this. He's on all the medicines he should be for the cancer thing that they seem sure he has (but not so sure that they can give me a definite YES) and I also put him on a huge dose of rutin after doing a bunch of research. It's been about a month now and I swear he is breathing better. So now I'm starting to think it's not cancer and it's something else that is putting the fluid in his chest. I'm starting to think that four different doctors (one of whom is an oncologist) are all wrong and that they were just following the easiest path to get my money. You vet sends me there to get this and that because she saw something suspicious on the xrays and bear was breathing really hard. So I kind of feel like they just took off with that idea. I sure hope I'm wrong, I mean, I hope I am right, I hope he doesn't have cancer. But I hope I'm wrong about the thought that they just went the easiest route to "diagnosing" and getting my money.

In non-cat news. My back is feeling a lot better! Physical therapy is annoying and every time I am there I feel old and like it's a waste of time but then I realize that, hey!, my back doesn't hurt! Still, even with the improvement, it's annoying to go there three times a week. I have to get up with an alarm! OMG! And I feel so so so so old when I am there.


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