Sometimes I’ll look at one of the cats strolling through the middle of the kitchen and I’m like, “Why do you exist?” Not in a malicious, fed up sort of way. More just a puzzled sense of awe. As in, what on earth are all of these creatures doing in my house?
Do you ever do that? Just look at one of your (three) pets–especially if it’s a massive dog–and wonder, “What.in.the.hell?” Pets are strange things. We humans are strange things for putting them in our houses. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I definitely feel like a zookeeper.
Since Stew’s been gallivanting about Austin all week, I’m on full-time zookeeper duty. The number one perk of zookeeping? Leaving work to let Waldo out at lunch. So far I’ve had no unpleasant surprises (read: indoor dog bowel movements) in the Waldo department. Here’s hoping that continues. He’s also easy as hell to “walk” because he’s too old and slow to go anywhere.
The cats, you know, they’re just cats. Weaz got locked in a closet last night and just sat there in the dark while I ran around frantically trying to find her. “WHY DIDN’T YOU MEOW?!” I yelled when I found her. Then later that night I had a lengthy discussion with both cats about how they are my best friends. Every morning when I wake up, Waldo is standing in the hall staring a hole through my soul, Weaz is pretty much on top of my face in the bed and Ralph strategically places herself exactly where my feet go to get out of the bed.
Good thing Stew gets back tomorrow. I need some human interaction.
Until then, I’ll enjoy taking lunch breaks that involve massive salads and decaf chai lattes with almond milk.