The Fort Mudge Memorial Dump

At the risk of jinxing it, the cat quest is over. I got a call from the Randolph shelter (which is actually in Weymouth these days, and the cat is in Dorchester) at 9:00 on Tuesday night, and another call from the foster home on Wednesday morning. Quirk comes home at 1:00 tomorrow; delivered, even, so I don't have to take her on the T. Naturally, five minutes after we had sorted all that out, the Gifford shelter approved my application. I told them I'd re-apply next time, but I haven't actually deleted the email yet (see above re: jinxing it). I forgot that cat adoption is like job hunting: nothing happens for long enough to make you miserable, and then everything happens at once.

Hoping that since both cats like other cats, and Lily is lonely, they'll be willing to meet each other sooner rather than later. Once they're friends, Lily can teach Quirk to like me. And I do have a secret weapon in the form of smoked salmon, which certainly helped when I was trying to get Lily to like me.

Lily and Snip were the Hairy Beasts. Does Quirk become a Hairy Beast because I still have Lily, or are Quirk and Lily the Thundering Horde?

I haven't done any serious grocery shopping for three weeks and the fridge is down to leftover coffee and condiments (and cat treats), and I'm fairly seriously considering ordering a pizza for lunch. I really must do something about that tomorrow, because now that I finally do feel like eating, there's nothing to eat around here. I would do it tonight except it's going to be dark by the time I can unglue myself from the computer. I find it difficult to get motivated to leave home and go run errands in the dark. If I were doing them on the way home from work, that would be different.

The Instant Gratification Monster is miffed that there are now two cat shelters ignoring me. The pessimist is asking what else I expected, since baristas have been known to forget my order while I was standing directly in front of them. The realist is saying that the second shelter was a long shot anyway. The optimist is saying it all just means the right cat hasn't appeared in whatever channel it will get to me through, yet.

It's going to be a very long winter, at least mentally, if I have to keep stomping on the Instant Gratification Monster.

Lily needs somebody of the feline persuasion to be in charge of. She keeps being confused when there's nobody to curl up with and wash after dinner, so she comes and gives me a lecture and tries to wash me, and it's not the same thing. She also wants to be glued to my laptop more than usual, and she keeps clicking on things by accident, and I do have to do productive work every so often.

To that end I put in an adoption application with the Gifford Cat Shelter this afternoon, because they have a young dilute tortoiseshell cat who they say likes other cats, and because they're back behind BC so I don't have to drive to get there. They've already contacted K to make sure I'm allowed to have cats in my apartment. I was actually surprised they got as far as checking that I had permission to have cats, because it's Thanksgiving week, so maybe I'll actually hear from them tomorrow. The application is active for three months, so hopefully we'll have a second cat by the middle of February even if it's not the one I originally applied for. It doesn't need to be a tortoiseshell, but it does need to be young enough to stick around for a while after Lily. I don't want to lose three cats in five years.

I had to think about it some while I was filling out the application, and Snip wasn't an easy cat. It would be nice to have an easier one for a while. But I don't blame Snip for being Snip, either. She was who she was. I may never have another cat who washes me as much as Snip did, or has to turn around at least three times before sitting down on me, or picks up her left front foot and limps out of the bathroom and only the bathroom, for no reason whatsoever as far as I could ever tell. But that's OK, because those things were Snip, and every cat has its own quirks.

Yes, I do think about things other than cats. I made some turkey stock on Saturday out of a three-pound thigh (must have been a Very Large Bird), meaning to make turkey soup for Thanksgiving since I'm going to be here by myself. The stock came out pretty well, but I either need another (smaller) thigh to use for the actual soup, or I need to give up and just make vegetable soup with the stock. I haven't decided which yet. But I should decide, and do whatever I'm going to do, tomorrow. I still think one of my great-grandfathers had the right idea; he mostly lived on soup and pie.