Bad day.
I am firing today, this week and this entire month.
Teddy cat somehow lost his collar - the ID tag is irreplaceable, unless I want to shell out 15 bucks for a new one - and we think he might have gotten into a fight with either the tomcat that's been coming around lately, or one of the stupid raccoons that's made the corn crib into its home. I was in the yard this afternoon when I heard an awful screeching coming from the field in back, but couldn't see anything. I rounded up all the cats to put them in the garage just to be safe, and when Teddy showed up he came from the opposite direction of the ruckus, minus his collar, but he looked a little shaken up.
Mom had to help me hold him; I checked him over inasmuch as he'd let me, but I couldn't find anything. But he's been hiding up in the garage ceiling (which we can't reach even with a ladder, and there are beams that block some of the view up there anyway) ever since - only came down once when I went out to check on him and offer some canned food, which he ate readily enough, then he went back up into the ceiling and has stayed there the rest of the night. I hope to God I'll see him alive and okay tomorrow morning.
I worry about my pets because they are one of the few reasons I bother to go on living. And also because they're awesome, obviously. But I hate this situation so much and it's causing me stress I don't need, and I wish to God I could give them better than this because they deserve better (and so do I). This is exactly one of the reasons why I don't want my pets to be outdoors.
And my dad foolishly drove his damn truck onto the field by our lawn (that field is part of our property) and promptly got it stuck in the mud, because we have had so much stupid rain lately (and are supposed to get more, I just overheard!) so everything is a big fucking mudpit and the stupid mosquitoes are having an orgy. No idea how we're going to get it loose.
And we lost two of the baby birds. Pigeon finally went sometime today and this morning we came out to find one of the grackle babies stone-still. The surviving baby is questionable at this point - he's eating, but so was the other one who seemed just fine the night before. :/
Sometimes I just want to curl up and cry, and I wish I had a good caring shoulder to do it on. *headdesk*
Teddy cat somehow lost his collar - the ID tag is irreplaceable, unless I want to shell out 15 bucks for a new one - and we think he might have gotten into a fight with either the tomcat that's been coming around lately, or one of the stupid raccoons that's made the corn crib into its home. I was in the yard this afternoon when I heard an awful screeching coming from the field in back, but couldn't see anything. I rounded up all the cats to put them in the garage just to be safe, and when Teddy showed up he came from the opposite direction of the ruckus, minus his collar, but he looked a little shaken up.
Mom had to help me hold him; I checked him over inasmuch as he'd let me, but I couldn't find anything. But he's been hiding up in the garage ceiling (which we can't reach even with a ladder, and there are beams that block some of the view up there anyway) ever since - only came down once when I went out to check on him and offer some canned food, which he ate readily enough, then he went back up into the ceiling and has stayed there the rest of the night. I hope to God I'll see him alive and okay tomorrow morning.
I worry about my pets because they are one of the few reasons I bother to go on living. And also because they're awesome, obviously. But I hate this situation so much and it's causing me stress I don't need, and I wish to God I could give them better than this because they deserve better (and so do I). This is exactly one of the reasons why I don't want my pets to be outdoors.
And my dad foolishly drove his damn truck onto the field by our lawn (that field is part of our property) and promptly got it stuck in the mud, because we have had so much stupid rain lately (and are supposed to get more, I just overheard!) so everything is a big fucking mudpit and the stupid mosquitoes are having an orgy. No idea how we're going to get it loose.
And we lost two of the baby birds. Pigeon finally went sometime today and this morning we came out to find one of the grackle babies stone-still. The surviving baby is questionable at this point - he's eating, but so was the other one who seemed just fine the night before. :/
Sometimes I just want to curl up and cry, and I wish I had a good caring shoulder to do it on. *headdesk*