How the hell do you deter a cat who actually *likes* the taste of adhesive? I swear to [insert deity here, if applicable] Zoe can smell adhesive three miles away in the dark. She doesn't care if she steps on it. She doesn't care if it get stuck to her face. It's like fucking cat crack.

***

So my character for D&D 101 is effectively a wolfmanwoman. Her name is Cedar and she's an Earth Warden. She can partially turn into a tree. And she refuses to eat plants. And she carries a rock tied to a stick and calls it a mace. Which fits in quite well with everyone else...the entire party is pretty special. It's a campaign run and played by Cepheids, so there was little doubt of that.

Ugh. Ughughugh.

I was hoping to get Zo spayed at her usual vet, but they want 125 to do it. I normally wouldn't begrudge them this, but I don't have 125. TAMU wants 150-200. Student discount is 10%. This isn't because TAMU has high-quality vets working on your pet, it's because they have a forth-year student AND a vet working on your pet. WTF, last time I checked, having your pet be a guinea pig for a student's training was supposed to be cheap. Or maybe that was just twelve or fifteen years ago when your whole family's broke as shit and the next door neighbor is a vet. "Hey, we've got students who need practice, want to get the cats done?"

Supposedly I close next Saturday, so I'll probably pack her up and drag her to Bellville for most of the day. If I don't spend too much this weekend, I may be able to afford to get her retested for FIV as well, but it may just be the spay. I want to do both, but my financial forecast shows a record level of broke followed by brief periods of "buy the toilet paper now while you still have the money to do it." I blame it on my love affair with having a savings account.

So Zoe was the perp behind the mini-blind breakage. I've been fighting with her about sitting in that window, which is difficult because she's always been allowed to.

Five or six times last night: "Zoe, get out of the fucking window."

Now, the window was open, and the mini-blinds were down. About six or seven this morning, I hear some odd sort of sound and wake up.

Apparently Zoe wanted to shift position, and was sliding the screen about because she was squished between it and the blinds.

I became mostly awake just in time to see the silhouette of my cat fall out of the window. As in, outside. As in, two story drop to the ground. She'd managed to pop the screen out altogether.

I jumped out of bed, grabbed my glasses, and managed to think (thank god) that I didn't want to be carrying a soaked, scared, and possibly injured cat upstairs in my arms. I probably woke the roomie fetching the carrier out of the closet.

Ran outside, down the stairs, in the rain, expecting the worst. Walked around the corner calling "Zoe, Zo-zo, Zoe..."

I was seriously expecting her to be either injured or in Kansas. Or both.

Instead she was standing next to an AC unit, bitching as only a calico can. I walked up to her, she tried to slink around the AC unit. She was obviously wet, scared, and very unhappy.

I started to set the cat carrier down, thinking she might want to get in it, since it was shelter.

Zo took one look at the carrier and you could see her little brain go "MY BOX THAT'S MY BOX BOX IS GOOD." I fumbled with the door, got it open, and then closed it almost immediately as a streak of brown and orange shot inside.

She spent the next few hours wedged firmly under the bed.

I called her out when I woke up and she showed a lot of interest in her cat treats (although she only ate one). She used the litter box and all that was normal. She seems fine, aside from a lot of chops-licking, and unhurt. She's quite lost the devil-may-care attitude she usually has, though.

It didn't keep her out of the living room window, although she hasn't even spared a glance at the top of the bed, much less the bedroom window.

What the hell did I tell you about sitting in that window, cat?

I considered tossing Jiji out to give him the same lesson, but he'd probably hit his head and end up like Pepsi the deer.

And yes, the whole incident is entirely my fault. I knew that screen was prone to popping out. I just didn't expect Zoe to shift it back into its popped-out state and then pop it out altogether.

Apparently someone decided they wanted to sit next to the window, but the miniblinds were down. The proper response to this is NOT "tear up miniblinds." God dammit, that's something *else* I have to buy now. And that's in addition to the living room miniblinds which broke of their own accord.

Fuck my life.

My cat is a co-dependent, idiotic, drooling lump of androgynous fluff.

I fail as a parent.

So I was giving some of my stuff away on Craigslist. Get an email from one guy, arrange to meet him at the grocery store. Mentioned he'd be in one of the internet company vans.

I meet him at the store. Turns out, he was in my apartment almost exactly a week ago getting my internet fixed. It's a small world, for sure.

And I think I can actually get away with only buying Dr Pepper when it's on sale five for twelve bucks. Every time I get low, I see it for sale in one or another grocery store. Note, however, that in one particular store, it's *four* for twelve unless you grab the coupon up front. I should stop drinking it, but I can't. I've tried. Several times. There are worse addictions, though.

My cats love Dr Pepper boxes, though. They can play in them, on them, around them, through them, and if they feel like it, chew on them with no repercussions. Zo is still small enough to fit in one, although it's a bit...tight.

I love how well people can make me feel guilty about not adopting a cat from a shelter. I really intended to, and then Zoe came along, and then Jiji happened. I feel guilty until I make myself remember that Zoe might have ended up in the shelter if someone didn't take her, and that Jiji would have died if I didn't at least foster him. It's not like I went out and bought a cat from a breeder (which is still a foreign concept to me...my family and I have always just adopted whatever stray we happened upon.) But I have to make myself remember this.

I do, however, regret that I am at maximum carrying capacity for cats. If I didn't keep downsizing my living space, I'd take all of the little fucks home. Dogs I can say no to, cats...not so much.

I buy those cats toys, but what do they play with for three days straight?

An empty toilet paper roll.

Figures.

( SEE THE KITTENS. LOVE THE KITTENS. )

Update:

Jiji tested negative. I did some reading on FIV and talked to the vet, and I decided that the risk isn't terribly great, so he will stay with me until I get Zo tested again at six months, when all maternal antibodies are gone. If she still tests positive, and he still tests negative, I'll rehome him (with instructions to retest him a few months later). I'd really hate to separate them and go through all of the rehoming and heartbreak and then find out that it was just maternal antibodies. But if she is FIV+, he can't stay.

And great minds think alike. If she is FIV+, I'll probably attempt to find her another FIV+ kitty as a companion. I'm not sure how she'll take it, as from my experience females are hard to pair up peaceably after a couple months of age. But I can try. And if nothing else, it'll save the life of another cat that would otherwise be hard to place.

Now we just have to wait another three months, until we can do a for-sure test. It's going to be serum next time, the vet said there's less chance for a false positive with serum.

In the meantime, they're both on Albon. And the doses are fairly large, so getting them to take all of it is fun as hell.