Breathing a Little Easier Now

Many thank you's to all the blog readers who sent well wishes regarding my doctor's appointment and subsequent test results today.  I'm happy to report that I'm cancer-free and continued surgery isn't necessary.  Looks like I'll have to have continued biopsies every 3 months, but it's a small price to pay.

Since I'm going to live (*smirk*) I went back to Weight Watchers today.  Again, it felt great to do something normal that meant I was taking care of myself. 

We had a huge number of "owner surrender" phone calls today.  One of them was from our own veterinary office who has a client who wants to euthanize her 9 year old cat because he pooped on the floor.  The cat weighs TWENTY pounds and no longer can get to the basement to the litterbox and the owner doesn't want to move the litterbox upstairs.  She'd rather kill the cat.  God, I hate people sometimes.

I really don't like taking owner surrenders.  God bless the rescues that do.  I find that once I see the cat at someone's home, vet office or my own home, I feel obligated to take the poor thing even though he/she isn't a good fit for our foster homes. 

Case in point:  About 5 years ago, I had somebody call me about a kitten wandering around the edge of the streets.  They thought the kitten was under 6 months old and looked fragile, and starving.  I hopped in my car and drove an hour (!!) to pick up this one little kitten.  Turns out "the kitten" was a 20 year old cat that I'm POSITIVE belonged to the person that called me.  I took the little old lady-kitty and she became the love of my life for the last 6 months of her life.  I have no regrets, but it certainly wasn't what I had expected. 

Obviously, this doesn't apply to our foster parents and people that I know that find cats.  But I'm always leary of  friends of a friend...of a friend...of a friend...that needs to rehome their cat. 

You don't have to agree with me, it's just the way I feel.  I think it's great when a rescue takes cats from the public.  I just wish I trusted the public a little more.  None of what I say on this subject is set in stone.  I keep finding exceptions to the rule.

I had cooked dinner ahead of time before my doctor's appointment.  Just a simple crappy casserole that I can pop in the oven tonight.  I came home to find this:

Take a GOOD look at my casserole, the lid, and the location of the casserole dish.  That dish was on top of the stove in the back when I left....AND....Sherman wasn't even ashamed of himself enough to leave the scene of the crime.  Bad boy, Sherman. (Good thing you're cute)

Life is feeling pretty good tonight.  David asked if I wanted to go out to dinner tonight to celebrate the good post-doctor's news.  But I think we'd better eat that casserole before it's too late.