Dayum! Dontcha just hate it when you wake to a morning when everything you touch goes SPROOOOIIINNNGGGGG!
Dawn cracked rather too long ago. It’s quarter to seven, which means the sidewalks will be swarming with other people’s dogs that “jus’ wanna pwa-a-a-y“…which is another way of saying “swarming with morons.”
I must not have wiggled all night long. My back hurts, my hips hurt…so much I can barely hobble around the house. Gulped down an aspirin with a piece of bread and butter (aspirin + no food = sick as a dawg). Fed the dog, who — sensing disaster a-pending — is now hiding under the toilet.
Lost my hair comb.
How the HELL can you LOSE an eight-inch-long fancy wooden comb???????
HowEVER, it’s now lost.
Ripped the tangles out of my hair with a plastic “brush” thing. That hurt a bit…grand way to greet the day.
Walked out into the garage to get…don’t remember what now, the brain having gone numb. There I found rat shit on the floor and signs that Ratty had quite a party out there.
Can’t put out rat poison without transporting Ruby to M’hijto’s house and leaving her there for at least a couple of weeks. Then before she can come back, the whole property will have to be policed to find any chunks of poison that have gone astray.
And no. No, rat traps do NOT address the issue. Rats are too damn smart to go inside a rat trap.
What’s needed is a large, hungry cat. Something along the lines of a Manx.
But to have such a creature in the presence of Ruby will mean getting it as a kitten.
How do I not want to bring up another kitten? Let me count the ways.
Belly is hurting like I swallowed a beaker of hydrochloric acid.
Got a lump on my lower jaw. Take recourse to Dr. Internet, and HOLY shit! Come across this serenade from the Mayo. Remove tumor/cyst and nearby teeth, tissue and jawbone; send for biopsy; reconstruct jawbone; inflict “medical therapy”; supportive care that includes “assisting with nutrition, speech and swallowing, and replacements for missing teeth…”
Jayzus! Good morning, America, indeed….