Hey everyone (all 12 of you, HI DAD!) I’ve been spending so much time on the computer that my eyeballs hurt, but not on my blog. Obviously.
I’m still working on my short-term rental project which has (so far) only netted me one completely insane contact.
That’s insane insane, BTW.
The one thing keeping me sane is Timpano, the cat of my dreams.
Except he likes to sharpen his claws on ALL THE WOODWORK in my house. Not the couch, not the bed, not the carpet. The wood. The 130 year-old, hand-carved wood.
Did I mention that my house is, like, all wood? Perhaps the best thing about it is all the wood.
That’s what she said.
Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue called to do a follow up on how Timpano is doing.
He’s great! He’s wonderful! I have to set my alarm 15 minutes earlier to give us time for our early morning make-out sessions!
Seriously, Loony told us to keep it down because he wanted to get some sleep.
So I told her this and she was psyched if not a little weirded out by my quasi-sexual relationship with my cat and I mentioned the clawing thing and the lady was all, “Does he have a gigantic, carpeted, cat-condo with ropes?
Uh … no?
Me: But he has scratching posts everywhere. He likes wood.
Her: Well then you have to get him a wooden post! Because you can’t declaw him. Because you can’t declaw him. YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T DECLAW HIM!
I have tons of wood posts, they are called the bannisters, the door trim, the cabinets, the wainscoting. Why would he use a wooden scratching post when all he has to do is waddle 5 feet to the most convenient scratching surface?
Me: Relax lady, I would never declaw him. I’m getting him SoftPaws.
Her: Consider the condo!
SoftPaws have great reviews, my friends have been successful with them, and Timpano doesn’t mind having his nails trimmed. It’ll be fine.
I went to order and realized those little rubber tips are sized.
I figure he needs a large because he’s a large cat. Regard the sizing guide:
Did they really need to put such a fine point on it?
I still ordered a large. He’s “big boned.”
Then Blue and I got attacked by a couple off-leash dogs on our walk (it happens all the time) and I was rocking my dog-walking bag-lady chic look (head-to-toe sweats, coat and sunhat)
… and was that person screaming “Call your dogs! Please come get your dogs!” so loudly that Loony heard me two blocks away and neighbors came out to offer us shelter. Not so loudly apparently that the owner of said dogs didn’t break a leisurely stroll coming over to get them.
Blue was terrified. He was all the way backed up between my legs and almost sitting down (which he can’t really do) and I was worried that he was going to get bitten. Or he would bite one of her dogs and knowing my stupid luck she’d then turn on me and say I’m the asshole because my dog bit her attacking dogs. That shit happens in Boulder.
“I thought they wanted to say hi,” she said.
Say hi? SAY HI?!
What about raised hackles, charging attitude, snarling, growling and bared teeth says just saying hi?
Never, EVER assume that your dog can run up, off-leash to anyone’s dog.
And honestly, she should know better. I walk by her house daily and her dog has a shit fit whenever he sees Blue. That dog hates Blue’s ass.
Poor Blue. He’s like me behind the wheel; something about us brings out the assholes.
And the Army Surplus store closed which means that Pearl Street has exactly zero useful shops on it except for maybe the pharmacy.
And this sign really confuses me. It was on the door of the grocery store.
And then Loony brought home this “dope” vintage appetizer caddy and I had to be the asshole who pointed out the obvious without even having to move …
And I’m having really disturbing sexual dreams but unlike the Brad/Ed one a few days ago, this last batch is really disturbing. I told Heather about one because she’s the one person who would understand why I’m so sqwicked out and she just laughed her ass off.
And I was on Dan Savage’s podcast, the best part of my day. It’s the free micro episode number 430. Can you guess which one is me?
It’s been one helluva day.