Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Tracy's No Good, Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day.
So okay. Say what you will about how you hate cats. Laugh and make jokes about how the only good cat is a dead cat. But then don’t stand around all Surprisey McWhatTheHellHappened face when I blow up your house.
Anyway, last week. Tuesday. Bad day. Early Tuesday morning I let my cat outside. Normally he goes out and does his thing, then comes back. When I say "his thing" don’t assume I mean nasty things, he’s been fixed, because like Bob Barker told me to do, I have my pets spayed or neutered. He just goes out to pee and stuff. Then returns. Except not this time. He never came back and still wasn’t back at 7, when I got up for work.
This may not seem like a long time, but this is a 13 year old, lazy fat cat who doesn’t get too far from his food bowl. Ever. So he has been gone 6 hours and I am freaking out.
Here is his picture. His name is Tabasco and he is pretty damn fabulous. He has thumbs, which is proving quite handy for the lessons i am giving him in how to shoot a rifle. Anyway...
He’s my baby. Don’t judge me.
Then I call around to the vet’s offices in town, of which there are many. No one has seen him. The panic level dials up to eleven, but I decided since I am at work, i should maybe, i don’t know, do some work. Which brings us to...
Vicki. Dear, sweet, socially retarded Vicki. I work with her. She's crazy.
So she chooses this time to come tell me about how she "heard" about this roving band of crazy devil worshippers who are going around Logan and kidnapping (catnapping?) black cats to use in satanic rituals. Gosh, thank you Vicki! Ever so comforting. Jackass.
I have heard this fish story before. The fish was 14 years old and she was so sad when it died that she was crying at work like the crazy old fool she is. At the time, I was trying not to laugh in her pig face so I walked away and didn’t get the whole story. Well today, lucky me, I get details.
When she told me the first time, I was picturing some cute little cool fish in my head, you know, like a clownfish or something. Something you might actually enjoy and like looking at. Like this.
But no. No, no, no. Not for our girl Vicki. I find out to my utter dismay that the fish we are talking about is a Plecostamus. Yeah, the sucker fish. Which looks like this...(and this is a pretty damn good looking one as far as these ugly things go.)
Oh wait. That's Keith Richards. THIS is the Plecostamus.
(by the way, this is GERALD, and his owner seems to have an entire webpage chronicling his activities, which is assosity in the extreme. Whatever.)
Anyway, Vicki's dead 14 year old fish is the sucker fish. If you have ever seen one up close you know why this is freaking me out. Everyone knows they are a necessary evil in a fish tank, just as everyone knows they are the mockery and the lowest rung on the ladder in the fish kingdom. No one likes them. They suck.
Why she thinks its appropriate to compare her stupid pond scum sucking assfish to my awesome and super bad ass cat is beyond me.
I finally leave work and come home to spend a few hours yelling for Tabasco and walking around my neighborhood looking in ditches for him, with no success. My brother even came over to help me look since Tabasco used to be his baby until he was adopted into the House of Fabulous.
Around 6 that night, I finally come in the house and am just trying to get stuff done but not really concentrating much.
And then! There is a knock at my door and my neighbor Mark (who because of this incident might be my new boyfriend) is standing there with Tabasco!! My hell! I was so excited I screamed and did the pee-pee dance. Tabasco jumped out of Mark’s arms and ran like his ass was ablaze to his food. Which he then proceeded to eat for around 2 hours. Between sleeping that is.
I don’t know where he was, he won’t tell me, but he has shown absolutely no interest in going out again since so it must not have been the great time he thought it would be.
Ok, this blog is really long and not so much funny, which normally isn’t my style so i will end it here by saying Tabasco has an appointment tomorrow to get microchipped. Don’t judge me.
Anyway, last week. Tuesday. Bad day. Early Tuesday morning I let my cat outside. Normally he goes out and does his thing, then comes back. When I say "his thing" don’t assume I mean nasty things, he’s been fixed, because like Bob Barker told me to do, I have my pets spayed or neutered. He just goes out to pee and stuff. Then returns. Except not this time. He never came back and still wasn’t back at 7, when I got up for work.
This may not seem like a long time, but this is a 13 year old, lazy fat cat who doesn’t get too far from his food bowl. Ever. So he has been gone 6 hours and I am freaking out.
Here is his picture. His name is Tabasco and he is pretty damn fabulous. He has thumbs, which is proving quite handy for the lessons i am giving him in how to shoot a rifle. Anyway...
He’s my baby. Don’t judge me.
With Tabasco on the missing list, I have to go to work. Lee’s Marketplace stops for no one. Plus their flour is too damn expensive. My son Nick is home and supposed to be canvassing the neighborhood in search of Tabasco, but I suspect he may have confused "canvass the neighborhood" with "don’t move out from in front of your playstation for any reason." I don’t know, just a hunch.
Then my mom calls and tells me there is a smashed black cat on the highway about 6 blocks from my house, which sends me into a minor panic. She says she will check it out and report back, so i stand by the phone and freak out. At this point my co-workers start to make fun of me for being upset about my cat. Yes, they can all bite me.
So my mom calls back and says the aforementioned smashed cat, whose intestines were incidentally coming out its butt, is definitely NOT Tabasco because of the notable absence of thumbs. Relief. But he is still missing.
It’s at this time that I call Animal Control, who says he will keep an eye out for him and asks me for a description. After giving a 5 minute description of the cat, he asks me if there are any distinguishing characteristics about him. My hell you fool, i just told you, HE HAS THUMBS! And he is as big as a Volkswagen Beetle.
Then I call around to the vet’s offices in town, of which there are many. No one has seen him. The panic level dials up to eleven, but I decided since I am at work, i should maybe, i don’t know, do some work. Which brings us to...
Vicki. Dear, sweet, socially retarded Vicki. I work with her. She's crazy.
So she chooses this time to come tell me about how she "heard" about this roving band of crazy devil worshippers who are going around Logan and kidnapping (catnapping?) black cats to use in satanic rituals. Gosh, thank you Vicki! Ever so comforting. Jackass.
I work some more. I should mention this stupid cheerleader who came in and ordered a drink with her meal. We just give them the cup, they get their own soda, as it has been since probably before this little girl was born. As it is EVERY DAY when she gets her drink with her "dumb girl special." So she says "i want a drink." When she is asked "which one" because 4 sizes of cups are sitting right in front of her face, she replies "um...Sprite?" Gah. What the hell are they teaching in that high school?
Back to my trauma. Before Vicki finishes her 3 hour shift to go out in the store and do her marathon 3 hour shopping, she tells me about the time her fish died. And how she was crying and crying. I don’t get this woman at all. GIL GRISSOM HASN’T CALLED, AS FAR AS I KNOW, MY CAT HAS NOT BEEN CONFIRMED DEAD YOU ASS, STOP TELLING ME YOUR DEAD ANIMAL STORIES, IT ISN’T HELPING.
I have heard this fish story before. The fish was 14 years old and she was so sad when it died that she was crying at work like the crazy old fool she is. At the time, I was trying not to laugh in her pig face so I walked away and didn’t get the whole story. Well today, lucky me, I get details.
When she told me the first time, I was picturing some cute little cool fish in my head, you know, like a clownfish or something. Something you might actually enjoy and like looking at. Like this.
But no. No, no, no. Not for our girl Vicki. I find out to my utter dismay that the fish we are talking about is a Plecostamus. Yeah, the sucker fish. Which looks like this...(and this is a pretty damn good looking one as far as these ugly things go.)
Oh wait. That's Keith Richards. THIS is the Plecostamus.
(by the way, this is GERALD, and his owner seems to have an entire webpage chronicling his activities, which is assosity in the extreme. Whatever.)
Anyway, Vicki's dead 14 year old fish is the sucker fish. If you have ever seen one up close you know why this is freaking me out. Everyone knows they are a necessary evil in a fish tank, just as everyone knows they are the mockery and the lowest rung on the ladder in the fish kingdom. No one likes them. They suck.
Why she thinks its appropriate to compare her stupid pond scum sucking assfish to my awesome and super bad ass cat is beyond me.
I finally leave work and come home to spend a few hours yelling for Tabasco and walking around my neighborhood looking in ditches for him, with no success. My brother even came over to help me look since Tabasco used to be his baby until he was adopted into the House of Fabulous.
Around 6 that night, I finally come in the house and am just trying to get stuff done but not really concentrating much.
And then! There is a knock at my door and my neighbor Mark (who because of this incident might be my new boyfriend) is standing there with Tabasco!! My hell! I was so excited I screamed and did the pee-pee dance. Tabasco jumped out of Mark’s arms and ran like his ass was ablaze to his food. Which he then proceeded to eat for around 2 hours. Between sleeping that is.
I don’t know where he was, he won’t tell me, but he has shown absolutely no interest in going out again since so it must not have been the great time he thought it would be.
Ok, this blog is really long and not so much funny, which normally isn’t my style so i will end it here by saying Tabasco has an appointment tomorrow to get microchipped. Don’t judge me.
// posted by ~tracy~ @ 11:46 AM 
Comments:
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You are way funny!! I am sorry that you had to have that much stress. I am glad though that it ended on a good note. Tabasco not Stupid sucker fish.
I came to a conclusion the other day about me and animals. I like them but don't want to own any because of trauma in my childhood. The stress of their loss is too much for me.
Please excuse my punctuation and spelling. I am an uneducated idiot who needs to further her education but, at this time can't afford it. Hence, why I need an education. It's a vicious cycle.
I am really glad you joined the blogging world.
I came to a conclusion the other day about me and animals. I like them but don't want to own any because of trauma in my childhood. The stress of their loss is too much for me.
Please excuse my punctuation and spelling. I am an uneducated idiot who needs to further her education but, at this time can't afford it. Hence, why I need an education. It's a vicious cycle.
I am really glad you joined the blogging world.
Ok, this definetly qualifies as an Alexander day! I was having stress just reading about Tabasco being missing. I get ill thinking about Socks disappearing. He is microchipped-thank goodness!
I'm so glad you joined the blog-o-sphere.(even if it is very pink)
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I'm so glad you joined the blog-o-sphere.(even if it is very pink)
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