Thwarted Plans

I was supposed to walk five miles today.  I was supposed to pick Sara up shortly before 10:00, then meet Bill, then walk my five miles, then go to breakfast, then work on a quilt.  Instead I have spent all day in a pain pill stupor due to the fact that there was a fucking cat stuck in the rafters of my garage.

Let me back up and tell the story proper.  After putting in my sheets to be washed because someone who wasn't me, threw up on them, I walked outside about 8:30am to start the car so I could go to the store and buy some gin, apples, blueberries and tea (listed in order of importance.)  However, when I walked out the door I heard a lot of commotion in the garage and so I walked in to discover Randi, up on top of the miter saw jumping at the rafters trying to eat an obviously scared cat.  Earl was also scaling various piles of junk trying to get at the cat.  Screaming ensued.  I tried to reason with Randi and Earl, but since that didn't work I had to drag 150 lbs into the house because the door to the garage is swollen and won't shut and it was the only way to keep the cat safe.  Then I called Sara and I said, "There is a fucking cat trapped in the junk in my rafters!"  Sara offered some advice to try to shoo the cat down.

After which I spent about 30 minutes trying to reason with the cat.  I also called my dad and said, "There's a god damned cat in the rafters, DAD!"  He suggested I open the big garage door and so I pushed the big garage door open, because of course, the garage door opener is broke.  And I took these pictures.

Then, because I could see that this was one fucking big cat, I thought perhaps she was pregnant and had decided to give birth in my garage.  It was also clear that she was quite literally a scarity cat, so I had the bright idea to move some junk around to make a ladder for her to get down.  She wasn't having that; instead, she climbed on top of the open garage door and hunkered down.  I then had the bright idea to try to pull the garage door down, hoping that she would just slide right out of my life, but the garage door is bent and it wasn't cooperating despite using all of my strength.  By that time, Sara was already on her way over to help out with a can of cat food and an immune system that permits touching cats.  She got here and enticed the fat cat with the cat food.  The cat came right to her, then scratched her nose when she pulled her down from the rafters.  After which Sara released her back into the wild and we had to put down the garage door.

Sara with the fucking fat ass cat that tried to get itself eaten at my house earlier today.

So, to review, a list of activities that have landed me back on the couch today:

1. Wrestling Randi and Earl into the house, so that they didn't eat a cat.
2. Opening the garage door.
3. Moving junk around in my garage to try to make a ladder for the cat who was stuck in my rafters.
4. Trying to put the garage door down by myself.
5. Putting the garage door down with Sara's help.

For one, I don't understand why the cats in this neighborhood do not have some kind of neighborhood watch going on and why they continue to come into my yard.  One would imagine that my house would be somewhat of a legend- like kittens would tell each other at sleepovers about the house on the cul-de-sac where cats disappear.  Or maybe they do and only the daredevils show up or only the cats that the other cats don't like.  Second, my dad was pretty vague about it, but he did imply a few weeks ago that there have been other crimes committed here and that he had cleaned up after such crimes.  He gave no details, but it appears the Saratoga Animal Shelter is not only harboring assassins, but training them to be more effective.  Third, I need a god damn man to help me take care of all this shit.

There's just enough room on the chair for Clark and his girlfriend.