Why can’t we all just get along?

Yeah, so I’m way, way, waaaaay behind here. I’ll explain tomorrow. I know, you can’t hardly wait. That’s why I love you.

I’m in the TeamBucks again, this time with Jay, so I’m not making up the antics of the players. Not as many of the key characters, though: No wizard, no Bottom’s Up.

I was about to write about how my pets don’t get along and compare it to high school drama, but then it made me think of Glee (how am I not on that show?) and then I thought of the recent news of Cory Monteith’s passing (so sad to see a light go out so soon, regardless of why). He lived in here in Victoria while he was growing up, too. Somehow, that seems even more sad.

Sadness aside, I just saved my draft of this post and WordPress logged me out and the entire rest of this post was deleted. Awesome. Grumble, grumble…

So anyway, it occurred to me that I didn’t really explain the political part of the oft-disgusting ecosystem that is our condo.

Quick aside: This is the litterbox freshener I use. It’s pretty good, at least at the moment I put it in. But let’s inspect the scientific evidence of it’s effectiveness, as depicted on the back of the box:

Science is amazing. This graph tells us nothing. What are the units? "Smell-metres"?

Science is amazing. This graph takes significant liberties and yet tells us nothing. What are the units of odour? “Stank0metres”?

Look. As the odour rises (in height? smell units? THIS MAKES NO SENSE.), the blue bar wins by racing to the top faster than the red bar. Or something like that. This is not science, you guys. These are just words. This proves nothing, except that marketers make things up and people will buy anything. I am proof (of both of these facts).

It occurred to me that my previous post had less to do with the politics of the pets in our household and more to do with the disgusting and surprisingly renewable pet-waste ecosystem that our pets have created in our living space. Our condo isn’t particularly small, really, but two cats, one dog, two humans can get lively. And quite frankly, two litterboxes too many.

Now, I will do my best to refrain from using the word “poop” as much as possible, though, it is a really fun word (I am four years old, it would seem) and it is also kind of central to the political climate in this ecosystem. Just for the record, Adam gave me the idea of using the term “ecosystem” to describe the poop (see? so much fun, right? the fun is all in the second “p”). I do like to give credit where credit is due.

Anyway, so Maui is afraid of everything and Hermes takes full advantage of this fact. He used to skulk around the litterbox and ambush her when she exited the box. Her fragile emotional/mental state can’t handle that kind of stress. Clearly. Because she now poops on the floor, beside the litterbox. Thanks, Hermes. You asshole.

Grimby makes matters worse by loving the cats (which is completely unrequited, sadly, for him). He shows his love by chasing the cats anytime they move and anytime in between the times they move. In case you didn’t catch it, that is roughly 110% of the time. All the time, he chases cats. It isn’t appreciated by the cats.

Well, huh, it took less time than I thought to really delve into that political system. Turns out it’s not as complex as it seems.

Pets. It’s a good thing I love them.