Meow is the time to shine

Today was a nice, quiet, ordinary day.
We stayed away from the railroad tracks and kept to the house.
Well, after our trip to the veterinarian this morning.

So we walk in, and the same veterinarian technician who was with Smudge when she died is standing there.
We must’ve traumatized that woman.
To be fair, we genuinely had no idea Smudge was that close to dying.
We’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

She goes, “This isn't a sick kitty, is it?”
We told her that, as far as we knew, he wasn’t sick and that we were just there for a check-up.

So, we drag Skunk out of his carrier, and yes, we remembered to call him Chaos.
She starts going on about what a beautiful color he was, how unusual his coat pattern was, and what a good kitty he was.

Huh, we always thought he was just one heck of an ugly cat.

So it must have been a slow day.
We ended up with almost all the staff coming in to check to see how Chaos was doing.
And while they were just checking him, they were rubbing him and holding him, telling him how pretty he was and what a good boy he was.

That poor cat has never been so loved on in his life, nor has he ever been told how pretty he was.

Cowboy can shut up about how skinny he is, how sick he is, and how he thinks he has worms.
He’s perfectly healthy and a normal weight, just naturally lean with long legs.
He’s negative for leukemia and FIV.
They didn’t think he had worms but gave him a dewormer anyway.
That was pretty neat. 
It’s a liquid they put on the back of his neck like flea preventative.

They say he reminds them strongly of a Russian Blue mixed with those Werewolf cats.
That’s probably not true, but we don’t know his background.
All we know is the woman hid him in her basement, hubby found out, pitched a fit, and bam! We inherited him.

One cat down, five to go.
As we left, she was still going on about what a good boy he was.
I told her the next one wasn’t going to be a good boy.
He’s a spicy orange with an attitude problem.
Fox is next in line, then Lucifer, then Coyote. 
We’ll save the two fat, healthy ones for last.
That’s Sasha and Carl, aka Bedlam.
Actually, the only really skinny cat we have is Skunk.
The rest are pretty normal cat-sized, although Sasha is starting to get that middle-aged spread.
She’s 11 now.

After we left the veterinarian, we made a quick stop at Food City because I was out of coffee.
Of course you don’t make a quick trip on a Friday, and the remodeling turns it into a nightmare.

Chaos and Cowboy stayed in the car while we ran inside, and they were both just fine when we came out.

We made it home before 11:30 am, so that was good.

The day kept moving like it always does, and before we knew it, Cowboy had to go to work.

Badger was outside all evening painting the little metal rooster.
She even got going on the big one.

She’s got his tail and wings painted, but she had to call it for the night.

We need more paint, a darker brown to cover that white neck piece.

Badger says that with the black tail and black wings, Gingie is starting to look like a priest, and that just won’t do.

We hadn’t planned to paint the main body, only the wings and tail, but once we got started, it was clear we had to paint the body too.

It’s not perfect, and it never will be because of those raised Christmas decorations, but for the most part they’re painted over so it’s not screaming red and green anymore.

She finally called it a day just before 8 p.m. 
She’d been out there painting since 3 p.m.
She was so absorbed in what she was working on that she refused to take a break, even with the temperature remaining steady in the low 80s.
I had to crank up the air conditioner for her when she came in.

I spent my evening playing online games.
The house is clean, the laundry’s finally caught up, so why not?

We did manage to watch an episode of “The X Files.”
We’ve reached the part of the show where David Duchovny has left, and the new actor just isn’t as good.

I think I'll be heading to bed soon.
Badger’s already fallen asleep on the couch.
I’m not going to wake her; she’ll be alright.