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Groundcat Day. - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Groundcat Day.
It's December 7th, but it's feeling awfully like the 2nd of February, with me in the role made famous by Bill Murray (the K)*.

Back to yesterday morning:

The animals get fed between 5:15 and 5:30. The protests begin much earlier, and I'm often awakened by either a going-out dog or a going-in-the-catbox cat much closer to 4. Yesterday was about average. Tazzer, the oldest and the lone boy in the house, gets fed first, in this room/office- his catbox conveniently a step or three away. Then the other two cats get their noms in separate stations, and finally the dog'sfood and water bowls get filled.

Usually within 5-10 minutes, everybody's done, the dog is re-outed if needed, and Tazzer tends to stay near the three basic life functions: the empty bowl, the catbox, and his (formerly known as my) bed. In fact, he'll typically jump up on it just as I'm heading back for a final hour or two of snooze myself....

snooze, occasionally and unfortunately, interrupted in his 17th year by his dropping of a P-bomb.

He still knows how to use the catbox. Trust me; I've seen, I've cleaned, I've surrounded the thing with puppy pads. But he's old: he forgets, or is startled, or, as I think happened yesterday, his Evil Sister gets into his space and he reacts badly.

It's a well-oiled drill, most of the time; I strip the thing and just get and stay up. But yesterday was my one morning of shabbaty- shalomy sleepy-weepy for an entire week. I set about switching out a new set of bedding; he knew I was pissed at him and hunkered down in the living room (quite drily, I might add:P) , but even the dog wanted nothing to do with me by the time I finally got back into bed.

Eleanor felt bad for me. She even suggested keeping some extra puppy pads right by the bed to put under him the next time. Someone else also suggested this in a comment to yesterday's post.

They don't know him very well, do they?  As I explained the role of puppy pads in this morning's rerun to Helpful Commenter:

I laid one down on the bed this morning.

Tazzer jumped up next to it.

I picked him up and put him on it.

He moved off.

I then went to put it under where he wanted to be.

You KNOW what happened next.

That laundry is STILL running.

So unless I've seen him in the act, as it were, he will be asked to remove himself from his place of residence after breakfast until further notice.  It pains me, because our morning cuddles have been so much of his routine, but this? Nuh uh.


G-Day is continuing in other ways.

I still have That Cold, and it's proving to be One Of Those Colds, which just hangs on in late-stage snuffiness for, seemingly, weeks.  I tend to get these most often in mild-winter climate- perhaps the really cold air kills off the little varmints more regularly- and all we've had so far this year is mild-winter climate.

Also, there's yet another potential trip to Brooklyn on my docket. I know, it seems I say this every other week, but as of this moment, 1:00 Thursday in Cadman Plaza is a go. That would involve me leaving here Wednesday morning and hitting Rochester before noon (which I need and intend to do anyway), but continuing to Binghamton after the workday ends if the Thursday hearing is, in fact, happening.** Thursday, then, I'd be leaving from there butt-early enough to be sure of dodging traffic and tolls by the appointed time, getting to the court in enough time to get lost, maybe even sightseeing for an hour or two in my half-native borough, and then just hightailing it allll the way home before the stroke of midnight Friday.

Maybe I'll even take I-80 and check out Punxsutawnney on the way home:P


*That's a Rutles reference, if'n you didn't know. Last night, after catching the Doctor finale, we watched Can't Buy Me Lunch, the sequel Rutles documentary that Eric Idle and Lorne Michaels did in 2004 with lots of cameos, including BMtK, Jewel, Carrie Fisher and a very young Jimmy Fallon.

** Yes, Donna, I'll call as soon as I know.
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