It’s been two and a half months since we lost Amber, and while we haven’t healed yet, Grayson is chomping at the bit for a new friend to run his spastic kitty azz ragged.

Two weeks ago we went and met the kitty who will be his new little brother, yesterday we went for another visit during day one of Errandpalooza ‘08 and I managed to snap him a few times. He remembered me from our previous visit, came straight to me and burrowed himself in my lap.

Isn’t he adorable?

We think so too.

Now, what do you think we should name him?

After nagging The Mc for weeks on end about Amber and her excessive hair loss /weight problem/said weight impeding her ability to clean her own butt – he took her to the vet yesterday.

Sure, she’s a long hair, but when I vacuumed his house stem to stern a few weeks back to eradicate the hair, I’d hoped it would be a month or two before I saw tumbleweeds of fur rolling around the living room again. Hope springs eternal.

I don’t know anything about cats, really, but I suggested that she was malnourished and bulimic. She’d run to the dish when it was filled, inhale it all and barf half of it up a few minutes later.

Turns out I was right…so sayeth the vet.

She has some skin irritation no doubt due to having to be bathed once a week since she can’t clean herself, she’s overweight, and she needs oils.

One prescription for fish oil on food, an antibiotic, and prescription cat food later - I think we’re on our way to her being a happier, healthier kitty…and not making me crazy crazier. Whatever.

Sure, we’re still over a month away from Halloween, but is it ever too early to start planning for your next assault on your pet? i-mockery.(Thanks, Aimee!)

As an aside, I’m having this shirt made (as threatened) for my outfit this year.

Let the record reflect that I’m not a cat person…hell, I’m barely a dog person and when I found out The Mc had a feline — it was almost a deal breaker. Almost. Her name is Amber and she’s a princess to be sure, which is almost enough to make me love her unwaveringly HOWEVER she and I have a few small issues.

~ She’s needy and insists on interrupting when I’m talking to The Mc on the phone
~ She’s overweight, takes no pride in her appearance and shows no self control at the food bowl
~ She has bootie cleanliness issues

Yeah, little Ms. Thang has quite the dingleberry collection and despite The Mc scrubbing her hamhocks on a regular basis she insists on continuing the hobby.

She also has a habit of doing wind sprints in the middle of the night, which I suspect is just an effort to outrun the dingleberries. She’ll get revved up and haul ass out of the bedroom and down the hall, with claws gripping carpet in a way that’s less than pleasing to the ears. This is usually followed by a trip to the crapper, which is one of those fancy electronic jobs that refreshes the litter 10 minutes after she’s exited. Maybe she does the sprints to pressure her bowels, but I suspect otherwise. I also suspect she hates me.

So last night went something like this:
8:00 - Get to the house, Amber hangs in the living room and eyes me skeptically.
8:15 - We eat, she eats. She’s always eating.
8:30 - We watch TV, she lays on the floor and eyeballs me.
8:45 - I go upstairs and she talks to her dad in a hushed voice about “that lady” taking her spot on the couch again.
9:00 - Attempt to sleep.
11:00 - Amber starts with the wind sprints.
12:30 - She’s trying to eat my pillow.
2:00 - She’s rubbing against one of the bedroom doors banging it on the wall.
3:30 - Now would be a good time for her to have a conversation with herself.
4:00 - More eating my pillow in an effort to get me to leave.
4:45 - Wind sprints.
5:30 - Time to wake everyone up, because the Princess is hungry.

FWIW, those turds were still clinging to her ass this morning when I left. I doubt she’ll ever successfully outrun them.

The funk in Grovers’ bowl was bothering me, so I got him a maid.

After dinner with Amy which was immediately followed by a walk with Kim, I moved Grover into his new digs. He’s been with me long enough now to warrant a swanky pad, don’t ya think?

Last night while walking on a narrow sidewalk next to a busy street with the girls, Heather asked what everyone gets when I die.

It isn’t that odd of a question considering we already know that we’ll be tasked with returning the rocks in Kims rock collection to their places of origin and Heather plans to give Kim all her Polo oxfords (this is funny because Kim only wears black and Heather has that shirt in every color ever made).

To Heather I bequeath my sideburns, because she despises them. I also leave her my blog so she can [hire people to] ghost write. As discussed, she must clip the sideburns to her head when she ghost writes, and/or when she’s intoxicated.

To Kim I leave Grover and Elmo, because I know she won’t forget to feed them nearly as often as I do.

To Yolanda I entrust all my sporting gear…tennis racquets/volleyball set/bats and gloves/bicycles. Feel free to unload them at a swap meet, and let that experience be my gift to you.

Anything you’d like to go ahead and call “dibs” on?