I’m a Young Gun

Don't forget I'm giving away three copies of Great Tidings of Boys. See details HERE. You have until Sunday to enter.

Okay, here's a tip–don't take vitamins on an empty stomach. Ugh. I felt so icky I had to quickly eat breakfast (which I usually do in my car–multi-tasking you know). Then I still felt a tiny bit icky, so I had to turn to the comforting arms of mini chocolate donuts, orange juice, and a Pepsi. Worked like a charm!

Anyone liking any of the new fall shows? I'm really disappointed in Glee. That show has such potential and now is the perfect time for it–but I'm not liking 80 percent of it. It's like it wants to be the Sex and City of the glee club culture.  We already have Gossip Girls for our SATC fix, so it just needs to be what it naturally should be–a funny, campy show about high school with music and dancing.  It's trying too hard. And so far I'm done. I've been meaning to return to the show Castle, but I keep forgetting. I hear the Houseseason premiere was fabulous. I missed it. I always think I have the diagnosis figured out on that show. And I'm wrong every single time. This is why I teach speech. And not anatomy and physiology. (Never mind that I pretty much flunked that in college. The fact that I read Prevention magazine qualifies me to solve medical mysteries.)

So I'm seeing Whip It this weekend. I'm really really really really really excited about that. If it sucks, I'm gonna be ticked off. I will probably be so mad I'll swear off movies. For at least a week.

People have asked, so I wanted to give you an update on the wild kitty situation. Okay, I won't go into details, but things are amiss at this retirement home. I wrote a series about a teen crime solver (A Charmed Life ), so I pretty much have street cred when it comes to mysteries. (Plus I watched a lot of Scooby Doowhen I was a kid.)   So there were three kitties who lived on a roof. And now. . .there is one. I know, right? And the other two met with unhappy fates, and every time I think about it I get the feeling like I took my vitamins on an empty stomach. These are the sort of things that keep me up at night. Not global relations, not the threat of a nuclear empowered Iran, not the idea that there is national talk of significantly upping the hours the American teen and teacher must go to school. But kitties. The plight of kitties and other helpless animals has me staring at the ceiling and throwing dirty looks at the clock.

So without going into any explanations that would burden other animal sensitive souls, this kitty's days are numbered. I know it, even though I've been told differently by the director of the retirement home. So I got intel about the other two kitties (may their furry souls rest in kibble peace) Monday. And I thought about it all Monday afternoon. On Monday evening, I was walking with a friend and telling her about it. She says, “You're going there tonight, aren't you? You're gonna go try and get that cat.”

Yep. Yep, I was.  So I go home and with little time in the evening left, I launch Project Steal Endangered Kitty. (It was called Project Get This Wild Cat Away From That Psycho Place That Kills Cats and Tells Big Impossible Stories That Jesus And I Know is Total Crap So Whatever. But the decal I made for my t-shirt wouldn't fit, so I had to shorten it down.)  So I get some tuna, get some kitty treats. And I drive about 20 minutes to the next town to get this party started. And by that, I mean to grab my mom.

I swing by my mother's house, and she's eating dinner. And I'm like, “Hey! What are you doing?!”
“Eating. Do you want something to eat?”
“No.” At this point, she knew something was up. I had just refused food. Specifically I had just refused pizza–she probably thought I had come to tell her I was terminally ill.
“I'm gonna go get that kitty.”
“Oh.”
“Yep.”
I wait.
And wait.
“Do you want me to go?”
“Of course!” So I gave her two seconds to finish her meal (the sun was setting. I mean this literally and as a metaphor for the young fuzzy one's life.)

So with great enthusiasm (like the kind of enthusiasm I might show for a plate of green beans), she gets in the car with me. My stepdad hands me some gloves to handle this wild kitty. He offers some advice. But he doesn't offer to go along, so he won't be getting a Project Steal Endangered Kitty t-shirt.

Anyway, this is where the story tanks. We go to the retirement home. I see the cats–momma cat and her sole surviving baby are on the roof snuggled up together. Of course I go back to my car to get my camera because I have a blog to run and the world needs to see this as much as they need to see that Anglo-Saxon treasure that was uncovered last week. When I get back from the car my mom is talking to a resident. Our first obstacle. My mother is much more polite than I am, so she chats it up with the resident. I just wave and smile and start Phase One of “The Plan.” (The Plan at this point just being to wave tuna around like a bubble wand and hope for the best.)  

Next The Resident asks us in to her room to see HER CAT. Her cat is completely irrelevant to Phase One or any other phase, and I have minutes of daylight left. I give mom a look like, “You go ahead. I have work to do–lives to save.” But Mother smiles and says, “Jenny, let's go see the cat. OKAY?”  As in “If you don't come with me now, I'm going to hijack your blog and tell them about every embarrassing moment you've ever had, including a few that never even happened. And I'll tell your neighbor you have a crush on him. Even though he's eight-five.”

So with a HUGE sigh and an eye roll (It was getting dark–you couldn't really see it), I go see Resident's cat. When we get back outside from the tour de cat room, the kitty is gone. Mom continues talking to Resident, who is not going to be an honorary member of Project Steal Endangered Kitty because she can't use her “quiet time” voice, and I stake out the place for signs of mini-kitty life.

I hear the little guy, and start rustling bushes to smoke him out. Mom starts doing the same. While still talking.

So he darts around. Mom runs to the tree they use to climb to the roof. She guards it with everything she's got. (About time she got in the game.)  But we lose him. I spent the next ten minutes (in the dark) walking around with tuna and sending telepathic messages to the kitty like, “I'm your only hope for survival.” And “Follow the scent of the Chicken of the Sea. It's dolphin safe and packed in water.”  But. . .no kitty. So Phase One failed. I was forced to admit defeat and return to command central to drown my sorrows in a bowl of cereal and Miller's psychotic meowing.

I haven't heard from the home. They SAY they are looking out for the kitty and will try and catch it for me. I would rather be there in person when they “catch” it. I have my doubts at their methods.

Anyway, Phase Two begins this afternoon. I'm going back. I'm hoping to recruit some old ladies and that one guy with the walker. I think if we all work together we can do it. Plus part of Phase Two requires three sets of dentures, so I need these people. Keep your fingers crossed. And if you're praying people, say a prayer for me and the fate of Endangered Kitty. I'm not even keeping the little guy. It's going to my friends Crazy Sheila and Super Smart Techie Joel.  But I am determined to save this life.  I cannot fail. I must not. And just because this tiny cat moves like the Tasmanian Devil, I'm sure I can catch him. Somehow. Some way.

Have a great rest of the week. I will update you soon. Right now my prayer is that I can somehow intercept this kitty. And that I don't do anything to get arrested.

JEN