daemonluna

( in which there are hairballs )

(Really, I'm very-very-very relieved that it wasn't something more serious. But the look on her face when we try and get that gunk down her throat...)

When we got home today, we spotted this large, grey fluffy cat outside our building. It looked a lot like our upstairs neightbour's cat, the Other Cat. Trout and the Other Cat frequently sit on their respective balconies and glare at each other. In fact, it looked exactly like The Other Cat.

So we scooped up kitty, left her in the hallway in front of our apartment, and went upstairs to knock on the neighbours' door. They weren't home, so we left a note. I check and yeah, their balcony door is open a cat-sized space, and there is no cat on the balcony.

Twenty minutes later, neighbour-guy comes downstairs and says yeah, that looks an awful lot like his cat. Except she's a bit skinnier, and his cat is, well, in his apartment. But he appreciates a lot that we tried to save his kitty.

We say, oh. And then we call the SPCA for what-to-do-now advice.

They're closed. They closed at seven. They're also closed tomorrow for Canada Day.

So we agonize. And eventually decide that the kitty in our hallway is 1) very sociable, 2) not at all alarmed at being out prowling the neighbourhood and in fact was sauntering around like she owns the place, 3) did not ravenously gulp down the kibble and water we put out for her in the hall, and 4) wearing a collar with a bell on it. So we let her out again.

I can only assume that she possibly is a cat that gets to go out in the back yard, and is prone to bringing birds home. And I hope very much that she does live in the immediate area.

And that she found her way home.

It's REALLY hazy. In an atmosphere-laden, smoky, forest fires burning in the Crowsnest Pass and turning the light all orange type hazy. It's worse today than it's been in the past two weeks--you can actually smell the smoke. Combine that with the lights still being sporadically on and off at work, and no wonder I'm feeling draggy.

Yes, that's right, we're still working in the dark. And explaining to people why the library doesn't really need their second-rate encyclopedia from 1986, please and thank you. ("I mean, I know it's a couple years old, but it's a really good encyclopedia...") We've only got the 2003 World Book, World Book online, and Britannica online.

That, and yes, if you lose the book, and even if you can't find it anywhere, you have to pay for it. And I know, that means you're paying for a book you don't even HAVE. Because that's usually what lost means. Okay, snarkiness over for the moment. Move along here, nothing to see...

There are eighteen pounds of very smug tabby curled up on the couch beside me. Trout is sitting on top of a paperback book--I can just see the corner sticking out from under his rather substantial tummy--and appears to be quite comfortable, none-the-less.

Minnow, on the other hand, is hiding because I (indignity of indignities!) tried to brush her. After the monster hairball she horked up (on the carpet, natch) and the heat, you think she;d be glad of it. But nooo... She really needs it too. Looking at her, I'm pretty sure there's some long-haired cat in her somewhere. (Really, she ate one just last week... *g*) She's ventured out only to curl up beside Trout and get her face licked while she purrs and purrs and purrs. He's got this way of possessively slinging a paw across the top of her head to hold her still. Yeah, I love my kitties.

Book of the moment: a compendium of storytime songs, rhymes, and stretches. Sigh. Because there are only so many times

Book I want to be reading: Kushiel's Avatar, full of slashy goodness and angst and... stuff. More on that later.

troutkitty is killing people again. That's m'girl. *g*