DON’T GO IN THERE! when that happens, so Self? Let’s not go in there. Let’s go call Fred.”
I pulled the garage door closed and high-stepped it into the house, locking the door behind me. And I picked up the phone and called Fred.
It was busy, so I hung up, watched the garage door for a few minutes, then tried calling again. Busy. And I ranted to the cats that IT’S ONLY EVER WHEN I FUCKING NEED HIM THAT HE’S ON THE PHONE, IF I WAS CALLING TO ASK HIM A STUPID QUESTION, HE’D PICK UP THE PHONE IMMEDIATELY, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ARRRRRGH!, and the cats scattered. So I sat down and sent him an email asking if he’d worked out in the garage that morning. It would be unusual for him to work out in the garage then not lock the door behind him before coming back inside, because he not only locks the lock on the doorknob, he always locks the deadbolt as well, which always makes it a big pain in the ass for me to get into the garage in the morning, because my key doesn’t work well with the deadbolt.
I figured, since he sits and reads his email when he’s on the phone with me, he might do the same with other people, so I sat and hit “refresh” three hundred times, and tried calling him again and got a busy signal, and so finally I sent him another email saying Since you’ll apparently be on the phone forgoddamnfuckingever, did you work out this morning? Did you leave the door ajar? Or do I need to worry about someone being in the goddamn garage? and then I sent him a text message saying “Check your email, pls.”, and then I picked up the phone again to try calling him, and the phone rang, and it was him.
I explained what had happened, and he said “Take a gun.” Not “Don’t go in there!”, not “Call the police!”, not “Ask the guy next door to come look in the garage for you!”, no. He just wanted to make sure I took the gun with me when I went to see if anything had been stolen from the garage. So I went and got the gun from the bedroom (my gun, we call it.) and we had discussion about whether there was a safety on this gun (there is not), and then I took him with me via the phone while I went into the garage.
I was a little shaky as I looked around the first floor of the garage, then I said “I have a gun and I’m coming up there!” and I went upstairs.
And there was nothin’. No one was there, no vagabond laying asleep amongst our crap, no thief waiting to steal our 15 year-old vcr or exercise tapes or elliptical trainer, not even a troublesome squirrel. Not a damn thing.
I was almost disappointed that I didn’t get to shoot anyone.
This morning, I went upstairs to hang out with the kittens before I had to take them to the pet store. When I opened the door, kittens came shooting through the crack, and I bent down to halt them in their tracks, and I failed to take into account that there was a doorknob, and I hit that doorknob with the browbone over my right eye so hard I saw stars.
I bellowed and staggered around, and then remembered that there were kittens on the loose, and I chased one down in the bathroom (they run out of the kitten room and directly into the bathroom every single time, I don’t know why) and the other in guest bedroom, and I carried them back into the kitten room, sternly telling them how very bad they were.
I hung out with them for a few minutes, and then it dawned on me that there were only two brown tabbies in view rather than the usual three, so I went back out into the hallway and started looking. I saw no brown tabby anywhere upstairs, and so I went back into the kitten room to look, and still a brown tabby was missing.
I finally heard the far-off sound of an irate Stinkerbelle, and when I followed the sound, I saw a little brown tabby running around happily, surrounded by every permanent resident in the house. Stinkerbelle looked very angry (I guess he’d gotten too close to her), but the other cats just looked puzzled, like they weren’t quite sure what they were looking at.
I rescued the kitten, took him upstairs into the kitten room, and the kittens started acting like jerks, racing around, jumping on me, biting at me, just generally being pains, so I said “OKAY, I think I’m ready for you to go, brats!”, so I packed them up and drove them to the pet store. I gave them all the usual hugs and kisses, told them to get themselves adopted before Monday, and left. They watched me leave like, “Yeah, whatever. Buh-BYE, lady!”, and settled down for naps.
Ingrates.
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The kittens are at the pet store, as I mentioned, and so here are the last of their pictures.
“I got the box and it’s all mine now, HA-HA!”
Did I mention that they really like this thing?
I can’t stand how gorgeous Billy Bumbler is. And what a sweetheart – the happiest, most laid-back cat, ever. I swear he looked like he was wandering around in a drugged-out daze most of the time.
There it goes!
Susannah in motion.
Tommy liked this thing too, and thinks it’s unfair that those stupid kittens got to have it!
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“Harrumph.”
10/3/07
I see Mister Boogers is getting a worse potty mouth. I hope you don’t put up with being called a whore! Bye bye kitties. Get adopted so your foster mommy doesn’t get sad on Monday.
Tommy looks a little portly for that thing- he looks kind of cramped.
MWAHH!!! YOUR SO FUNNY! I love the caption under Boogs pic. Stop by myspace page and say Hi. Lucky girl, you made it to my top 16 Friends list.
Have a Fabulous day.
ANNIE
I think Boogs needs his mouth washed out with soap.
Huh, I was creeping around with a gun myself, around 3 AM this morning. Must have been a cat, but that one time it wasn’t means that I always carry the gun when investigating strange noises at night.
You just crack me up!!!!
Love love love the picture of Mister “Douchebag” Boogers
I love you guys entirely so don’t take this as an attack on you personally but what is it with Americans and guns??? Is it a living in the country thing, a living in the South thing, a life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness thing? Geez louise the last thing I would be doing is grabbing a gun to take into the garage regardless of the circumstances. A hockey stick yes but a gun no. Having said that here is a question for your Friday extravaganza…have you ever fired your gun, gone to a target range or whatever?
You tell it so funny Robyn. You have me cracking up here. But what I really want to tell you is I so feel for you… all the banging up and stressful things that have happened to you in the past few days. I order your karma to knock being wacky and go back to being a happy go lucky karma!!
Why is Mister Boogers so naughty? Why? WHY??
Meant to say knock OFF being wacky. I am on a course of prednisone and am quite wacky myself right now. Right now is not a good time for me to be taking this stuff. First time ever and I feel very emotional. My middle daughter is being a PITA and I am glad IIIIIIIIIIIIIII don’t have a gun! Good thing she is at school/college right this second in classes.
I think I need to call my best friend and have her talk me down from the edge.
Have you ever taken prednisone? Is it common to get flaky taking it??
Love the expression on Mister Booger’s face in the last pic 😀
I’ve been meaning to say that I was *so* excited when I read that you named one of your foster kittens Susannah. I was really overly excited by this. Maybe I need to get a life. (Nah!) BTW, I’m fostering one adult cat right now (of course that’s in addition to my own two cats and two dogs) and really I don’t know how you do it, Robyn–especially with four and five at a time. I’m so impressed by the level of care you give your fosters, the toys, the lovely CLEAN room they have (you must be cleaning, vacuuming, etc. CONSTANTLY) with all of the beds and toys and treats. Hope the shelter knows how lucky it is to have you. BTW, I would love to make another donation to your shelter–could you e-mail their info? So glad you decided to keep your blog (oops, I mean JOURNAL :-)) up and running. I would have gone through some serious withdrwal without my daily Bitchypoo fix!
Mister Boogers looks very pleased with himself. Maybe he left the garage door open!
So, how exactly does one break a litter box? I’m scratching my head over here but I can’t figure it out!
When my husband was in Mexico for a month every time I was home alone I had our gun next to me. It didn’t have a safety either. As I’d walk from room to room I’d have it in my hand pointing to the floor. I made sure my finger wasn’t on the trigger because with my luck if it were on it I’d end up squeezing and shoot my own foot or one of the cats that were always under foot.
I felt much safer with it. I made sure I was taught how to use it properly by one of the cops that does that sort of training for other cops. And I left up the cardboard form with all my bullet holes all in the chest area in a nice prominent place for any intruder to see. Heh
did you check the batteries in the cat collars to see if they’re old/dead?
also, I hate litter, too. A LOT.
It looks like da Boog is smiling in that picture! No het there!
So, how did you explain this big door knob bruise? Did you tell Fred that the intruder tried to subdue you but only got one blow in before you pistol whipped him unconscious, drug him out to the back forty, and promplty buried him?
Shop vac makes cleaning extraneous litter so much easier. I started using it once a week, and use the broom the other days, but it gets it out of the cracks and crevices and I don’t have to worry about the vacuum having a funky litter smell.
Boogs looks so smug. Love it!
When we lived in the city, I dared.. DARED Bill to bring a gun into my home.. I so would have shoved it up his arse. However, since we moved way into the stix’s I totally have one on top of my Shrunk (my 380 is a bad bitch!! and has a safety Robyn.. easy to handle.. you should try it ;0)) and lemme tell you, I am the first one with it in my hand to investigate an odd noise. Out here there are more than people to worry about, bears, snakes, raccoons (who are quite mean and not as cute as I thought :0)) not to mention the drug dealers trying to grow pot up in the mountains and drive by our house at 3am on four wheelers. I just know one of these days one is going to be high as a kite and think we have money. Although with the house the way it looks right now, they would be dumbasses to think that! Stupid people that built our house didn’t think concrete was a great foundation, nooooo they wanted to use sticks. Morons. Oh, sorry… Robyn’s comments….
So, as for the gun thing… it is a country thing. For me.