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...over-educated and under-experienced, or so they say...

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Free Bird...or Cat, that is.

Ok, I'm going to make this short and sweet because I have to get this ball rolling again. It's been far too long of a silence, and I have many things to write about, but I couldn't leave you all hanging after the sob story about my cat. So...

I found a home for her! I didn't have to drop her off at some creepy shelter where they would take one look at my bitch of a cat and decide it best to give her two coins for the Ferry Man and send her across The River Styx.

After I wrote my sob story, I proceeded to fall into a bit of a depression (yes, a depression, I don't exaggerate) over my pet. It may seem silly to some, given I've been through so many dark times why should I sink into the pit over a cat that pisses all over my life, but still... I did. No matter how packed my sinuses were, no matter how many random boogers filled my nostrils while trying to have valuable conversations with people, I could NOT bring myself to pile that kitty into my car and haul her off to certain doom. So for days I told my story to random people at work and where ever I went, begging for ANYONE to help me. And just as things seemed to be a lost cause, my daughter mentioned a teacher at her school that lives on a farm and that Simba might be happy there. Being desperate, I had no trouble approaching that teacher and telling her my sob story, doing my best to appeal to her desire to let all creatures great and small have a right to life, but to no avail. She told me she already had three cats and couldn't take any more. She did wish me luck though.

Needless to say, I shuffled off to work that day certain I was going to have to suck it up and drive Simba to hell myself. As I was sitting in my cubicle, contemplating whether or not I should call my dad and sob and cry until he willingly drove an hour just to come pick up my cat and do the deed for me, a coworker stepped in and indulged me by listening to yet another set of my feline lamentations. She listened and said, "You know who might take your cat? Ron. He might take your cat. He lives on a ranch with three horses and I know he had an outdoor cat that just passed away. Go talk to him and see what he says."

SO... Ron The Office Cowboy, after watching a sweet helpless damsel in distress struggle to keep tears behind her eyes, agreed to become the proud new owner of what will most likely be known as one of the most feral domesticated cats in history. I drove her out there on Saturday morning, and to my surprise she not only trolled a small portion of the territory to check it out, she actually cuddled up to Ron and his wife (which I considered a merciful sign from God). I stayed long enough to be sure she wasn't going to turn on the people, and then I left without shedding a tear on my way home. Thank you, Ron! You're a life saver! (and I refer to my own life even more than my cat's)

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