GANG I WAS WALKING IN MY OWN HUMAN HOME, MINDING MY OWN GOOD CHRISTIAN BUSINESS, WHEN I HAPPENED TO LOOK OUTSIDE TO SAY GOOD MORNING TO OUR CLOWDER OF YARD-CATS (WHO ARE AN IMPORTANT PART OF MESA’S ECOSYSTEM AND FEAST LIKE KINGS UPON THE CITRUS-FUELED ROOF-RATS) AND WAS CONFRONTED WITH A SIGHT FOR WHICH I HAD NO DEFENSES AND NO RECOURSE:
I HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW IN FIFTEEN MINUTES AND I DID NOT BUDGET TIME FOR A BIG BOWL OF ITTYBITTYOHSOSMALLS
WAIT WHAT WHY ARE THERE THREE OF THEM NOW WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK
OKAY. OKAY. OKAY. WE CAN HANDLE THIS; IF NOTHING ELSE THEY HAVE TO GIVE ME THE JOB NOW! I HAVE SO MANY TINY MOUTHS TO FEED! AND I WILL BREED AS MANY AS I NEED TO.
OKAY I HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW SO HERE’S THE PLAN:
- KICK THIS INTERVIEW’S ASS
- CAPTURE THOSE KITTENS
- KEEP THE DARK-EARED ONE
PRAY FOR YOUR HUMBLE BAGELER IN THIS, HIS TIME OF NEED
UPDATE: IT IS NOW THE NEXT DAY
Okay here’s how all of that worked out:
- INTERVIEW: GOOD.
The lady was nice, the work sounds interesting, morally satisfying, and is a stepping-stone upward in the skillset and professional mien I’ve cultivated as an Entirely Serious Person
- KITTEN-CAPTURE: NO.
After the conclusion of the interview, I called She Who Is My Wife to give her the download and noticed that A.) KITTENS GONE, and B.) MAMA KITTY IS ON THE WALL, DANCING WORRIEDLY AND PEEKING INTO ANOTHER YARD
- WAIT WHAT
I know. So I get a ladder, check over the wall, and SURE AS GOD’S ASS there is a certified littletiny huddled in the corner.
- AW JEEZ WHICH ONE WAS IT
That’s the thing bro it was an entirely new kitten, not one of the three in the plywood
- OH GOD DAMMIT
You’re telling me.
- SO THEN WHAT
I zoop round to the neighbor’s door, tappa-tappa-tapas, a-ding-a-the-dong, peek-a-da-door-window, let us consider our friend the brick, but no dice
Word. I zoop back to my side and contemplate a life of CLAIM JUMPERY, peeking over to see if the wee boogen is still there. He was! And so was A DOG I HADN’T SEEN WHEN I LOOKED BEFORE
- WHY IS YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS
Presumably this is all prevenge for something I’ve yet to actually do.
- GOOD LORD, TIMECRIMES.
Precisely. IN ANY EVENT, now there’s a clock on this: I need to get that kitten before the dog notices them; I can’t know for sure it would end badly but I’d rather not find out at all, so now there’s a timer on this thing. A dog-timer. A CANINE COUNTDOWN.
- A LAIKA’S LAMENT
Jeez man too soon
All good, just like, think sometimes, is all. So I grab a cat carrier, gloves, and a footstool, run as fast as I humanly can back over to the wall, step squarely into a foot-deep stumphole that had been covered with leaves by the Devil, and just completely, royally, atomically wreck my entire shit. Snoot fulla loam, stepper with an unusual new number of ankles, centipedes holding a sock-hop on my noggin, and you know those motherfuckers got socks for DAYS
- WAIT SERIOUSLY? HOW INJURED ARE YOU
No time for that now, citizen; adrenaline decided that was future-me’s problem. And so I hop up, make a command decision, and for legal reasons WE MAY NEVER KNOW exactly how I ended up in my neighbor’s yard, probably a large bird mistook my large head for one of its large eggs, hoisted me, immediately threw out its back and dropped me on the other side of the wall like so many Hobbits fleeing the Orodruin. Who can say! Regardless, turns out the dog was super cool and didn’t even care that either of us was there, I boxed up the wee (as it turns out) dude and hopped back over the fence, and we’re taking care of him for the moment; we tried returning him to his mom, but she can’t figure out how to get him over the other wall to where the other kittens, including the one I wanted, presumably await her.
- OKAY SO YOUR STEPPER WAS FINE, THEN?
Hahaha oh no, not even a little bit, I was sincerely worried I had broken it and my ankle is literally the actual size of a baseball, but I sought medical attention and now I have a kitten AND a cool futuristic Bluetooth foot brace that, due to contractual stipulations that have aged poorly, will only stream content from Prince’s now-defunct proprietary music service!
- YEAH OKAY COOL WHATEVER KITTEN PICTURES NOW PLEASE
Fair, you’ve been patient:
- OMG A BAYBEEEEEEEE
HE’S A SMALL MAN and he is very grumpy, which is understandable! It’s been a big couple of days for him, but he is gradually being won over by all the mod-cons available to the human-adjacent cat, such as wet food that you don’t have to kill, snuggles, vaccines, and a nice safe box to poop in; it’s the American Dream.
- ARE YOU KEEPING HIM?
Fuckin–I dunno, man, we really don’t like actively want an additional cat and we don’t believe in signs from the Universe, but we aren’t sure the Universe knows that. Presumably, us taking care of him will enable his mom to better care for the other ones, and also this way he isn’t stranded in the corner of a yard in an Arizona summer, so it’s objectively best for everyone. If he loosens up some and just lets us stupid love him already, then yeah, I reckon he’s home.
- WHAT ARE YOU GONNA CALL HIM? ANOTHER COUNTRY, LIKE DENMARK, HOLLAND, AND FINLAND?
ARE YOU FINALLY GONNA CRACK OPEN YOUR LIST OF STAR TREK NAMES?
I S T H I S T H E C A T Y O U F I N A L L Y N A M E C H O C O B O ?
She Who Is My Wife has beaten me to the punch and dubbed him Jake Purralta, because we’re doing a run-up of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and unfortunately I felt it click securely into place the second she said it.
[DOUBLE-SECRET EXTRA UPDATE WHILE I’M PUTTING MY MAY NEWSLETTER TOGETHER: THIS HAS BEEN REVISED, HE IS CALLED TIRAMISU, THAT IS ALL]
- GOOZLED AGAIN!
Ain’t I just.
THANK YOU ALL FOR JOINING ME FOR THIS SPECIAL UPDATE, we now return you to your regularly-scheduled programing, but I don’t know what your schedule looks like, and so I shall return to being me, icing my stepper, watching The Good Place, and probably getting peed on by JP again. It’s not much, but it’s honest work.
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