Since I had to cut through Tennessee to get to the vet clinic to drop off Terry yesterday morning, I stopped at one of the gas stations I pass to get a couple of Powerball tickets. I buy lottery tickets if I happen to be in Tennessee, but I don’t think I’ve ever made a special trip to get tickets.
(The vet clinic is actually located in Alabama, but I get there faster if I go up the interstate into Tennessee and then up the highway back into Alabama.)
The gas stations I pass on my way through the small section of Tennessee are kind of depressing inside, each with tables for people to sit at and scratch their scratch-off tickets. Some of them have notes warning people not to stand at the counter to scratch their tickets. It makes me sad to think of desperate people crossing the state line to buy their scratch-off tickets and not even wanting to take the time to go over and sit at the tables provided to see if this is the time they got The Big One.
I think sometimes that dreaming of what we’d do if we won the lottery is more entertaining than actually winning the lottery would be.
(Of course, I’d like to be able to test this theory for myself if you don’t mind, lottery gods.)
So what would you do if you won the lottery? We’re going to take for granted that – like me – you’d make sure all your siblings had their own houses (or their houses paid for) and your younger family members – children, nieces, nephews, grandchildren – would all have college funds set up and you’d buy your parents their dream house or a trip around the world or something along those lines.
That stuff’s a given.
What else would you do, though? What FUN things would you do?
I can pretty much guarantee that Fred would quit his job. We’d get him that boat he wants, and a good truck to pull the boat with so he wouldn’t have to worry about his truck breaking down on the way to or from the river.
I’d donate a huge amount of money to Challenger’s House and other area pet shelters.
We’d buy 100 acres somewhere around here, and build our dream house (don’t be too surprised if our dream house looks pretty much exactly like this house and hey, we’re multi-millionaires so it’d probably be bigger, so we could have a few more rooms dedicated to fostering cats!).
I’d totally hire someone to clean the house a couple of times a week. Because god knows it doesn’t get cleaned a couple of times a week NOW.
I’d trade in my car for a Prius.
Vacation home on the coast of Florida – not a huge, fancy one, but a decent one.
I’d start a foundation to spay and neuter cats and dogs. If I came across a sign that said “free kittens”, I’d stop and offer have their mother cat spayed, at my cost. And if the owner didn’t jump at the offer, I’d PAY THEM to allow me to spay the mother cat. If they still refused, I’d hire a ninja team to steal that fucking cat. Because if you’re giving away free kittens and you’re not jumping at the offer of a free spay for the mother cat? Come on.
I’d take a photography class so I could get pictures of my foster kittens half as gorgeous as the Itty Bitty Kitty Committee lady’s pictures.
Wow. I really expect a few million bucks to go pretty far, don’t I?
That’s it, that’s all I can think of at the moment.
And you?
I left Ike at the vet clinic when I dropped Terry off yesterday, and the shelter manager told me that another foster mom had stopped by to drop off her fosters for spaying and neutering, and grabbed Ike up to foster for herself. She lurves the babies (really, who wouldn’t love Ike??), so I know he’s in good hands.
I won’t lie, though – I kinda miss the little guy!
And speaking of Terry – no eyelips for him! They called early afternoon to ask if I minded if they waited on the eyes. Terry’s still a little guy, and the hernia repair along with the neuter was going to take a while, and they don’t like to keep them under for such a long time. I told them that was fine with me – I wasn’t looking forward to having him recover from the neuter AND hernia repair AND eyelips all at the same time. Hopefully he’ll be going back next week for his eyelips. And if that meant he has to stay here a little longer than his brothers and sister to recover, well darn. Wouldn’t that be horrible?
(Fred said last night, after I went on and on (and on) about how much I love Terry, “We are NOT keeping him!” and then after a long pause “But if we had twelve cats, that would make figuring out the pictures for the calendar for next year a lot easier!” and I said “Well really, you can’t have Jake and Elwood in separate pictures on next year’s calendar because they’re always snuggled up together. We’d have to have thirteen cats to make it come out right!” and he said “We are NOT keeping him and we are NOT keeping two!” Heh.)
Terry was one unhappy little guy last night. Between the hernia repair and the neuter, he couldn’t get in a comfortable position, and so he mostly just sat there, hunched over. He’d allow me to pet him for a moment or two before he made a grumpy “That’s enough” noise. His brothers and sister were so kind to him – they’d be racing around like wild things, then come over and sniff at him, lick him on the face, and then go racing off. If they got too vigorous with the licking, he’d make his grumpy noise, and they’d back right off.
This morning, I opened the door to let the kittens out of their room, and Terry came right over to me, sat on my foot, and bit my leg.
In other words, I think he’s back to normal.
Sam, a week and a half after surgery.
Lafayette, five days after surgery (not that you can see anything!)
Bill, a week after surgery (he doesn’t care for the camera flash, thus the squint).
Bill, a week after surgery.
Even The Enforcer needs an occasional nap.
Previously
2008: Torturing the Toms.
2007: Google is THE SHIT.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: “Fuck it!” I said.
2002: “Stinky?” I said.
2001: I stole this survey from Noreen, but I’ve seen it all over the place recently, and god knows how much I love to be one of the cool kids!
2000: Look! It’s nay-chuh!