So the wife came knocking on our door the other day and said she knew it was us, and that we better start keeping our cats inside *implied threat*, because she's found poop in her "flower beds." I use quotes because they HAVE no flower beds. They have gravel and foundation shrubs that are meticulously trimmed twice a week because OMG they have to be SQUARES. Now. If my cats are pooping in her beds? I am very sorry. I have the litter box to show otherwise, but whatever. And it's not like my animals are the only ones in the neighborhood AHEM. (coyotes, bobcats, strays, Pomeranians...) Also, my cats are OUTDOOR cats. (They sleep indoors.) My cats also catch a minimum of ONE RAT/MOUSE a night. Does she want them in her house? I think not.
So it looks like I'm going to the shelter to find my 14 year old Maine Coon with cataracts and bad hips because he apparently is a huge threat to my FUCKING NEIGHBORS' SHRUBBERY. The other cats are circling the property and sniffing, looking for him. :( WHY ARE PEOPLE AWFUL???
and he's so pretty and sweet and just likes to be petted and we shaved him and he's like VELOUR and I hate them and their god damed boxwoods.
OH OH! The best? And by best I mean MIND BOGGLING? This wife is the chairman of the neighborhood WELCOMING COMMITTEE. You can't make this shit up. Did she EVER introduce herself to us? No. We introduced ourselves last Christmas, affter having been here for a year and a half. Okay, the shelter is open now. Off to see if they have my baby. >:(
[ETA] So, the Animal Control facility doesn't have them, and they were very sweet and patted my arm while I cried (jesus, I do NOT cry, people.) and I almost left with four big fat huggable kitties that were sitting in windows wanting HOMES because I had to focus. And he is not at the Adoption center down the road where they have NANNY GOATS and a Paint and her baby, omg, and they were very supportive and sweet and took my name and number and let me write notes about how Scrappy has a fang that hangs outside his mouth and causes him to drool when you pet him and how he has tendrils of black fur that jut out from his toes and he's got a shaved back and floofy tail and a family that loves him. And our vet has not seen him (people drop off animals there) and will call me immediately if he turns up. And my sweet elderly neighbors on the other side have not seen him, and hugged me and "Oh, darlin'!"'d me, and agreed that they never did like those uppity folks behind us. (They're from Mississippi, and thereby adorable when they speak.)
Mr. S might fly home because this is his kitty from COLLEGE and he's all sad and depressed, because he thinks he may have let him out when he left for the airport yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, and WAAAAAAAAAH.
THE NEIGHBORS ARE STILL NOT ANSWERING THEIR DOOR, AND I KNOW THEY ARE HOME. Fuckers. I am sorry to be all emo and whiney, I'm just SO SAD. Poor old feller. Goddammit, he can't SEE WELL. *Cries*
fuck. I'm sorry y'all. :(