Long story short, my husband is being stationed at Pearl Harbor. You know, for the first time in his 17 year career the Navy is actually moving TOO fast for our comfort, and we’re leaving in the next 30 days. Unfortunately, we have a beautiful housecat that we just don’t want to subject to the stress of a crosscountry move and quarantine. I am desperate to find her a good, loving home, but because we just moved to this area (Pittsburgh) six months ago, I don’t have a whole bunch of contacts. Obviously, then, the reason I’m writing you is to see if you would maybe post something on your site to help us find a new home for Rubykins.
A little background-we rescued Ruby from the Newport News (VA) SPCA the day she was dropped off two years ago. I had taken my girls there to look for cats, but thought I was being slick when I said, “We’ll only get a cat if it’s declawed and fixed” thinking there was NO way there would be one there. Yeah, well…there was Ruby. We think she’s about 4 years old, and she’s pretty mellow; only once in a while does she do the crazy cat run up and down all of the stairs and over the couch! She’s loving and affectionate, but only on her terms. It took her a while to warm up to us, and she is still pretty skittish if you sneak up on her. She doesn’t mind children or noise, and if she’s feeling overwhelmed she’ll go off on her own rather than bite. We’ve never had a litterbox incident, and she is a healthy eater with no hairball issues. One thing that’s so lovely about her is her fur–I don’t think I’ve ever felt a softer cat! Unfortunately, she doesn’t like it when I pick her up and baby her, but she tolerates me with wild kitty eyes. She loves to look out of windows and sleep on your feet, and she’s just about the most perfect cat.
Here’s a picture of Miss Rubykins in all of her glory-
I’d just appreciate any help you can give. I know your readers are, for the most part, cat lovers and maybe one of them can help find Ruby a new home.
Thank you,
Angie
So come on, can’t y’all help out? IT’S FOR THE TROOPS (who are moving to Pearl Harbor to bask on the pretty, pretty beach, but that’s NOT the point). If anyone can help out or knows someone who can, email me or leave a comment and I’ll pass your email on to Angie. And thank you!
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Yesterday, what did I do? Oh, right. SIX HOURS OF CLEANING. Cleaning is my favorite thing ever, you know, so it was a happy, happy day for me.
NOT.
Okay, so it maybe wasn’t too bad. There was no furniture to clean around, no stuff in the closets or cupboards to clean around, so things went a lot faster than I expected. The most labor-intensive part of it all was scrubbing the bathrooms, and luckily I did that first. I did the entire upstairs first, and other than scrubbing the bathrooms, I had to haul a lot of stuff out of the closets and toss it in the trash (this was stuff not worth keeping, believe you me). I did a lot of vacuuming too, obviously, and mopping, and scrubbing down the fronts and inside of cupboards, and now the place is spick and span.
As I was mopping the garage (DON’T JUDGE ME), I wondered if the neighbors thought I was a complete lunatic for MOPPING the GARAGE (I said shaddup), but I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to do.
Anyway, I discovered something yesterday. Now, look. We’ve been friends for years, you and me, right? I’ve told you my deepest, darkest secrets, and you’ve withheld your deep dark secrets from me, but that’s okay. You like your privacy and all, and though of course I wouldn’t JUDGE you, I understand that not everyone can be as free and open as I.
It hurts a little, but I understand. Maybe sometimes late at night, I think about how you don’t trust me with your most secret of secrets, and I cry a little bit of the Ugly Cry, but that’s okay. You shouldn’t feel bad.
That said, we’re as close as any two people who’ve never met and who share their secrets in a one-sided sort of way can be, right?
I knew you’d agree.
And maybe you consider this too personal to answer, and if you can’t stand to deal with it, I understand. I’m sweet and kind and understanding that way. You know it’s true. If it’s too much for you to face, just look away and we’ll suffer through a short, uncomfortable silence, and then I’ll babble about my cats.
Okay?
Good enough?
Here goes.
Why did you never tell me that Pine-Sol will get my bathroom fixtures shinier than they’ve ever been before? Why? Last night I sobbed in my bed, heartbroken, wondering why you’d never share what is perhaps the most important piece of cleaning information that exists these days.
All these years! I’ve been using the ammonia to clean my bathroom fixtures! And sure, they got shiny…ish. But they didn’t gleam and glow with the light of a thousand candles. They didn’t shine so brightly I needed me some shades.
Is it because you believe Pine-Sol is bad for the environment? You figured it would be okay for you to use the Pine-Sol – just a little! – to shine your bathroom fixtures, but to tell me about it would push the environment right into Super Duper Hot, and polar ice caps would melt and we’d all be living on boats like in Waterworld?
(Pine-Sol did not cause the horrific hair that Kevin Costner sported in that movie. If it was particularly shiny, we might cast a gimlet eye at the Pine-Sol, but it was not, so we shall not.)
(Dear Kevin: When one has thinning hair, having long hair only emphasizes the lack of hair. A word of wisdom from me to you. Also, Pine-Sol will shine the FUCK out of your bathroom fixtures. See? I SHARE the important stuff!)
I think that none of us particularly want to see Al Gore zipping around in a paddle boat yelling “I told you bitchez it was coming! I TOLD YOU!”
Is it… because you didn’t know?
I thought you knew everything.
Whyyyyyyy wouldn’t you tell me? WHY?
* * *
::short uncomfortable silence::
* * *
Also, it makes the room smell fresh and piney instead of stale and farty!
* * *
::short uncomfortable silence::
* * *
Every night, Fred and I take a walk around the back forty. Always, if they’re around, Maxi and Newt accompany us on our walk. They are always very, very serious about accompanying us, as if it’s their job to follow us around the back forty and protect us from rogue squirrels and rabbits. They crack me up, with their serious little faces.
Newton of the Corn.
“Behind you! A serial killer! Or a ray of sun! One or the other!”
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Previously
2006:
18. Have you ever been in a fight? Nothing stronger than a slap-fight. Are you kidding? I’d shit myself and pass out before anyone got a chance to hit me.
2005: NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT COREY CLARK.
2004: No entry.
2003: You know you’re hormonal when the video for Reba McEntire’s “Fancy” (hee! I almost typed “Fancypants”) makes you all teary-eyed.
2002: It rocked. I loved it. I see a strong love for sushi in my future.
2001: I’ve managed to stay strong.
2000: Poor, poor pitiful me.]]>
I’d just appreciate any help you can give. I know your readers are, for the most part, cat lovers and maybe one of them can help find Ruby a new home.
Thank you,
Angie
So come on, can’t y’all help out? IT’S FOR THE TROOPS (who are moving to Pearl Harbor to bask on the pretty, pretty beach, but that’s NOT the point). If anyone can help out or knows someone who can, email me or leave a comment and I’ll pass your email on to Angie. And thank you!