...did I just hear them say *rabid red squirrel*?

I've got a bone to pick with a squirrel. A squirrel of the RED variation. That squirrel comes in here and acts like she has every right to just hang around for hours, trying to parse out details on resources that aren't even officially hers yet and acting like someone is purposely hiding them from her - like nuts, buried in the ground, that she'll never see again. I want to just yell "Trust me - even if we were, you're too damn dense to even attempt to figure out how to find out!" Rodent, please! The whole world isn't out ot cheat or deceive you. If it were, you wouldn't be the over-educated, over-paid, grossly incompetant middle manager that you are. You'd just be the neighborhood cat lady.

That's my cue for a segue into a less blood-boiling subject. Coming home from dinner last night we found that there was a very large, very floofy tabby cat (that I had never seen before in my neighborhood) laying prone in the middle of our street. Being the bleeding heart that I am, I immediately ran over to check and make sure it hadn't been hit by a car. Nope. All bits attached and seemingly functional. It just didn't want to move. As I stood there, another car came up the street, and had to slow waaay down to swerve a little to avoid hitting the cat...that still refused to move! So, I walked over, picked it up and put it down in my yard. Big. Mistake. The minute I dropped that cat it was like it came out of a trance - started rubbing and purring and meowing. And every time I tried to step away it chased after me. And that's when the neighbor's male cat came on the scene and I started putting two and two together. My husband didn't believe me when I told him that the reason that cat was being so friendly was because she was uh...how shall we say...wanting the sexy time, kitty-style. Yeah. He didn't believe me until the mating ritual commenced in our front yard. Of course, we weren't having any of that. Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about this issue with the semi-strays. My husband wanted to drive up a few blocks and drop the cat off in someone else's neighborhood. I flat out refused to make it someone else's problem. So, we grabbed our cat carrier, uncerimoniously stuffed Miss Floofy Sluttypants in before the flea-bitten Romeo from next door could be successful in his advances and drove her up to the 24 hour vet clinic up the road where I have surrendered strays to the local SPCA in the past. There she was pronounced very well fed (no kidding - she was huge!), and not exactly a spring chicken in terms of cat years. So we figure she was someone's pet, but she didn't have a collar. Well, now she'll be spayed and held at the SPCA for evaluation, so hopefully if she really is someone's lost pet they'll look for her in the local shelters. Better than finding her on the side of the road, or full of surprise kittens.



Hey. It's Friday. Work? Hmmm. No thanks.

Or Monday, as the case may be...

Or even Tuesday. Maybe.