Happy birthday to me!
What you see above is one of the few candid pictures of me that exists (Debbie took it when we were in Pigeon Forge). Probably because I’ve been fat my entire life, I have an uncanny awareness of who’s got a camera and when it’s pointed in my direction, so I can pose or make a funny face, or hide my bulk behind a pillow.
I don’t know if I was laughing or talking, but I was definitely having a good time! I don’t know that it’s a particularly flattering picture – Fred says he thinks it’s pretty good – but I like it.
(And on the other end of the spectrum, Nance used a picture of me in her shout-out that made me laugh so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Hee!)
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Thanks for your nice comments about Jake. Jake is, no doubt about it, a good boy, and I’m sure he’ll be very happy in his new home.
It took us four hours to get to Meridian, Mississippi yesterday to meet the guy who was taking Jake. We only had to stop four times, but most of those times were because I had to pee, rather than Jake.
But here’s what dumbasses we are: about an hour into the trip, Jake sat up in the back of Fred’s car and did a little whining.
“Maybe he’s car sick,” one of us suggested.
“Or scared. He’s never been in a car going this fast.”
“Maybe he’s hungry.”
It wasn’t until about five minutes later that a light popped on over my head.
“Maybe he has to pee.”
Yep, he sure did! Duh.
I was a little concerned about the guy who was taking Jake, because I don’t hang out on the message board Fred hangs out on (I don’t hang out on any message board these days, really.) and so I didn’t know the guy.
“Does he seem like a good guy?” I asked.
“Yeah, as far as I can tell,” he said. “His posts are pretty level-headed and he seems pretty sensible.”
“Well, we’ve seen pictures of his dogs, and they look happy,” I said.
“Yeah.”
We pulled up to the gas station where the guy was waiting for us, and Fred tentatively waved at him to make sure he was the guy. He was.
He was one of those guys who’s very soft-spoken and doesn’t have much to say, but I watched him watching Jake (who was wildly sniffing at every blade of grass on the area next to the gas station) and I watched him talk to Fred, and I noticed that every time he looked at Jake, he smiled.
And not in a “You’ll taste mighty fine with a side of grits” way, either. No, this guy was definitely a dog person, and he liked Jake right away.
Fred’s traded a few private messages with him since we got home, and it appears that Jake is adjusting pretty well. He’s timid and submissive and feeling his way around. I suspect that in a few days when he relaxes into his new home and gets to really know his new siblings (why do I suspect there’s a lot of butt-sniffing going on right about now?), he’ll be thrilled.
By the way, Spot is fine. He was favoring his leg a bit yesterday, but today he seems completely back to normal. We didn’t take him to the vet (we decided to keep an eye on him instead to see how he did), but I’m still keeping an eye on him (and he looks at me like “WHY YOU KEEP LOOKING AT ME, LADY?”) just in case.
He’s also getting lots of love, lots of petting, and lots of brushing (have you ever noticed that the more you brush a cat, the more fur they produce? It’s like they don’t actually have any organs or blood and guts on their insides, just more cat hair).
I hadn’t noticed it while Jake was here, but last night I realized that except for Spot and Tommy, the cats had been hanging out exclusively upstairs. Last night they started coming back down, and in fact I think at one point we had all six of the cats in the living room with us, which doesn’t happen all that often.
So life is going back to normal, Jake’s in a good home. It’s all good.
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While the whole thing with Jake was going on, someone I will refer to as That Jackass who posts on the board Fred hangs out on (yeah, I’m not providing a link) private messaged him, tried to get Fred to call him, and basically tried to pressure him into keeping the dog.
When Fred told him that he’d found someone to adopt Jake, the guy was unhappy to hear that (!) and sent a patronizing private message asking how long we’d been married, and lecturing him that “Marriages are give and take, not one person rules.”
Good god, what an asshole.
“Oh! And did he tell you that if I were A GOOD WIFE, I’d submit to your will?” I bellowed, after he’d read the private message to me (you’d think the man would know better). “WHAT A JACKASS.”
I love that That Jackass doesn’t know me except through what Fred has mentioned in passing, and has decided he knows that the problem is that I don’t understand that I need to shut up with all that stupid “I should have a say in this” bullshit and just submit.
SUBMIT, BITCH!
Yesterday morning when I woke up, I thought of That Jackass and what he’d said, and when Fred was about to step into the shower, I went into the bathroom.
“Please private message That Jackass and thank him. Tell him that your wife is so incredibly grateful that she’s married to YOU and not HIM that she promised you an extra special (sexual favor)*, and it’s the best (sexual favor) you’ve ever gotten in your life.”
Yesterday afternoon when we got home and were sitting in front of our respective computers and I went on the message board to read what people were saying, because I am a sucker for punishment, and That Jackass had a big old diatribe wherein he compared dogs to children and said something along the lines of “What if you brought a child home and it didn’t go well? Would you then turn around and take the child back?”
Good christ. What a fucking idiot. You’d think we’d taken the dog out back and tortured him before shooting him in the head instead of finding a really good home for him. IDIOT.
And now I’m going to stop thinking about That Jackass because it’s my birthday and jackasses have no place in My Special Day.
*You don’t need details. Hey, my KID reads this!
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I should point out that though I refer to myself as “Not a dog person”, I love reading stories about dogs, looking at pictures of them, petting and hugging them when I see them. I just don’t necessarily want one living in my house, you know?
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Last night we let the foster kitties out of their room for a few minutes. We’d like to be able to let them out to run around the house in the evenings, because as much time as I spend in there loving on them, I don’t feel like it’s enough time and I’d like them to be able to come hang out with us while we’re watching TV.
Moondance and Moonman are the first foster cats we’ve had who didn’t start rushing the door after a few days. They’re curious about what’s on the other side, but perfectly happy looking out the window and being loved and petted several times a day. I opened the door to their room, and sat down on the floor outside their room, waiting to see what they’d do. Fred encouraged them to come out and do some looking around, and after a few moments, they did.
Naturally, Mister Boogers heard us talking to them, and came up to be a jerk. He growled and hissed at them, and scared them enough that they decided they wanted to just hang out in their room, thanks.
We’ll give it another try tonight and see how it goes. They sure are good kitties.
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
hither.
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All six cats on one bed. That NEVER happens!
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Previously
2006: Happy birthday to me!
2005: No entry.
2004: Happy birthday to me!
2003: Happy birthday to me!
2002: Happy birthday to me!
2001: Happy birthday to me!
2000: Happy birthday to me!]]>