I am tired of thinking about the cats. You are probably tired of reading about it. I know that my friends, kind as they are, are tired of hearing about it.
One of the nice things about having cats is that they're relatively easy. You feed them, you pet them, you brush them, you call the vet if they start acting weird or passing worms. Maybe you clean their ears every once in a while. That's pretty much all you have to do to have a happy, meaningful relationship with your cat.
Dogs require much more time and attention, yet I don't guess anyone ever spent a week on an empty porch shaking a treat can and generally acting like a happyface dipshit while trying to coax their goddamn dog into a crate, only to spend subesequent nights trying to get it to come out of the shelving unit of an overheated shed. Even generally stoic Stinky has required a good deal of reassurance and cajoling this week.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to do it. I'm just not used to having to worry about them all the damn time. It seems counterintuitive. I feel like a Cat Lady. I don't want to be Cat Lady.
Enough about the cats. They'll be fine.
Other news? There isn't much. It's hot, the kind of hot where you just give up for a while and don't do much, aside from drinking a lot of beer and water. The house is pretty much functional, but there are still a ton of little things left to be done. We'll get to it this weekend. I truly believe beer is better for my morale right now than having a working air hockey table or art on the walls.