Irony at its best...

I have a psycho cat... he's 20 yrs old (yes 20.. no typo there), pure white, crippled on one front paw (I adopted him that way 10 yrs ago from the SPCA), cataracts in one eye and probably blind in the other and he weighs 22.5 lbs. Because he is crippled, he was never let outside so when he does "escape" out the front door, its by accident... first and only place he goes is under the front steps to roll in the dirt and come out grey. Which promptly earns him a trip the jetted tub (quite deep you see and safer for me!) to get clean. Which he positively loathes... so in the past few years escape has been minimal...

My daughter has decided he should be wearing the harness that we bought 10 yrs ago so that we could leash him outside and he wouldn't get hurt. He hated it... hate perhaps is the wrong word.. despised, loathed, positively absolutely wishes that life would end, hated this thing. He squirms enough to get half his body out of it and is left wrapped up in various bits of this harness nearly choking the life out of him... so it got shelved. However, Rachel felt that he should start wearing it so he got used to it. He hated it 10 yrs ago and never got used to it, I am not quite sure how she figured that 10 yrs is going to make a difference...

I come home tonight to find the cat in various stages of freak-out with the harness tangled around his body and he's lying in a pathetic heap mewling like a dying cat... my daughter you ask? Sitting downstairs watching a movie wearing her SPCA tee-shirt.

And in other news...
Devin called today while I was at work... he won a tv at his local liquor store and he got a call back from the place he'd been laid off at in Sept.
Why is he calling me? I'm glad he is, however, ... damn I'm confuzzled again. You know, being a lesbian would never be a damn sight easier because we're worse than they are... but argh holy fuck batman...

So if you've read the archives and you've got half an inkling of what I should do.... tell me, especially if you're a guy...