Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.

 Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net

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» Tuesday, January 29, 2002
Mr. Foot may be improving. Going very slowly, I managed to "swiff" the kitchen floor. (Sometimes I feel I could do this three times a day and still gather up a small chihuahua's worth of dog's hair.) About 90 minutes later I gave the den a quick, cursory vacuuming. I hope I didn't overdo--my ankle and foot now tingle and the heel feels bruised again--but I couldn't stand those bits of things in the carpet any longer. It hasn't been vacuumed in over two weeks. Shudder.

So, here it is the height of midwinter, almost February, and this is the second day in a row it's been in the high 60's. (I haven't checked the Weather Channel; it could have hit 70, it's sticky enough.) Bugs are everywhere, and I think a slug has gotten into the side door (there's a silvery trail on the floor near the door). Next thing you know the fire ants will be out. It's utterly horrible.

Plus the feral cats are already starting their spring fighting among themselves. I love cats, but these feral ones are terrible. They hang about our back yard, spraying the side of the house so much that, near the doors, you can smell it. Yesterday the toms were fighting and it sounded like small children screaming in terror.

Call Animal Control, you say? I've called Cobb County Animal Control several times, so has our neighbor. The last time I called them, a mother cat had stashed four kittens under our front porch. They were adorable, just at the age where they might have been tamed and given good homes. It is open around our porch, so someone with one of those sticks that Animal Control has, with the noose on the end of it, could have extricated the little guys with no injury to them.

Animal Control told me they couldn't possibly come get them. They had to be "contained," the man there informed me. In fact, that's what they always tell me.

Silly me, and all this time I thought the job of Animal Control was to "contain" stray animals... The only time they bother to come over is if you have a dead animal on your property.