Oh, That Maggie

Okay, so Mr. Ex went out of town last night, and isn't going to be back until late Sunday, so I volunteered to take Maggie for the weekend (I do loves my Maggie). So yesterday I drive over to his place, calling in some pizza for dinner to pick up on the way home, and collect her and Heed.

Now, I hadn't intended to take Heed home quite yet, I wanted to give it another week just to be sure that he doesn't get exposed to what Loki had, but I had actually talked to his vet and he's been vaccinated against the virus I was worrying about. Still, to be sure I had wanted to wait.

But I got there, and he was crying for me, and I just couldn't leave him again. I've been Heedless for two months now. So I picked him up, sans carrier, sans litter box, sans any of the kitty-related accouterments you generally need, and took him home.

I put him and Maggie in the house, made sure Maggie's food and water were full (I had bought the same kind of food for Grue that Maggie eats, so that's handy), opened Heed up a can of wet food and put it where Maggie couldn't get to it, and headed out to go get me a litter box with the store credit I got for returning Grue's crate.

So. I get that, easy no problem. Decide that Heed's an older boy now, he needs the special Senior Cat Please Don't Die fancy cat food. Pick up pizza on the way home.

When I get home, I discover that Maggie has NOT touched her food at all, or thankfully, Heed's, but she HAS found the box of treats I was going to send home with Mr. Ex, and she has eaten the ENTIRE BOX. ALL OF THEM. OVER A POUND OF TREATS.

Little shit.

Anyway, so I get the litter box set up in my room, realize that I forgot to get the baby gate from Mr. Ex's house, so I put up some flattened cardboard boxes hoping it'll deter her at least a little. Seems to work okay, so I go to bed.

So in the middle of the night, I wake up to VERY loud thumpy music. I'm on the second floor, and it sounds like it's coming from downstairs. For some reason it feels like 5 a.m., so I figure hell, I'll just get up, go walk the dog, get ready for work.

It is in fact 2:30 in the morning. Oh HELL no.

So I go downstairs, and the music is coming from a car. Dude is packing up some things, I don't know if he's coming or going but I don't much care. I go downstairs and politely explain that I'm on some medication that makes it really hard for me to get to sleep, and would he mind not having his music up so loud between midnight and 7 in the morning? He apologizes profusely, and turns it down. I try to go back to sleep.

Then this morning, of course I overslept, but I walked Maggie before work, got Heed shut up in the bedroom so Maggie doesn't get into the litter box, and since I am late, drive instead of walk so I can get there on time. Everything is great.

Now let me tell you about lunchtime.

I walked back to the house during lunch, forgetting that I had the car, and not only would it be faster to drive it home, but I could leave it there and save money on the parking garage. I forget this entirely, until I am halfway there and it would no longer be faster to drive.

So I get home. I let Heed out of the bedroom since he's been cooped up all day, and I take Maggie out for a walk. It takes her a while, but she pees, so we head back upstairs, and discover that Heed's had a hairball on the kitchen floor.

I'm cleaning up the mess, when Maggie runs into the bedroom and eats the rest of Heed's wet food. Mind you, she's had her dry food available all day.

So I get her out of the bedroom, put Heed back up, wash my hands, and grab some cold pizza to eat on the way back to work. As I'm about to head out the door, I find another hairball.

So I put down the pizza, go clean up the hairball, and call and tell work that I'm probably going to be late getting back in. When I put down the phone, I see that Maggie has eaten my pizza. And I'm still late.

So I check the house for any other surprises, find none, and leave. It's usually a 20-30 minute walk for me, depending on how hot it is and how much energy I have, and I already know I'm going to be late and have to stay longer at work because of it, so I don't stress. I made it back, only 5 minutes late. All in all, pretty good time.

UPDATE: When I got home, Maggie was THRILLED to see me. You know that thing that dogs do when they're guilty about knocking over the entire trash can and eating most of its contents? Yeah, she doesn't do that. She just wants to give you kisses.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Well, folks, this is going to be a bit of a long post today, but it should usher in an era of shorter and more frequent posts, for reasons that will soon become evident. I know I've been largely MIA for about a month now, and the reason for that is...

Mr. Sweetie and I are separating.

First, the barrage of answers to the usual first barrage of questions: The details of what happened are between me and Mr. Sweetie, it's not anybody else's business. Yes, I am holding up okay. We are trying to remain friends. I have found a new place to live, and I move in next Friday. I have been sleeping on a friend's couch for almost a month now. Yes, I am still taking the prozac, and I plan to keep doing so for at least the next year (doctor just approved my longer prescription).

Heed of course is going to come with me to my new place - but Maggie will be staying with Mr. Sweetie. She is first and foremost his dog. She needs a stable environment with a loving daddy and a grassy yard to play in, and he needs his little piglet. Since I will have lots of time on my hands, and no longer want to live in a dog-free home, I will be getting one of my own - a one-year-old corgi/basset hound mix that I shall name Grue. I hope that she will be spunky enough to run Heed around, but laid back enough to chill on the couch with me while I play Warcraft. Since nobody expects the spanish inquisition major life changes, money is a little tight with me right now, so I've asked the dog rescue to please hold Grue for me until mid-June, when I'll have saved up enough for another pet deposit and her adoption fees.

Logistically, almost everything has already been worked out. I signed the lease for my new place last week, the security deposit has already been paid, and there is enough in Mr. Sweetie's account to cover my half of the rent on the old place for the remainder of the lease. Mr. Sweetie has agreed to hold my things until I can move them out, and has even offered to help me move the larger furniture, which is very considerate. I'll be within walking distance to work, which will be handy, because that way I'll be able to go home and walk Grue during my lunch hour.

I've been knitting a LOT lately. Like, have-to-make-myself-stop, tingly-sore-arms amounts of knitting. I've knit up to about 30% of the Persian Star Shawl, and written out the pattern for the entire thing. It's going to be a bit before it's PDF-ready, of course, since my actually-mine computer is still with Mr. Sweetie, and it may take some time before I can get internet at the new Casa del PenName. I can still post plenty from campus, though, so no worries there. I plan to put it up for sale via Ravelry once it's completely ready, and then start on probably another large lace shawl pattern.

I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands.

It's going to be weird living alone, I'm not going to kid myself about that. I've never lived entirely by myself, but in the end I think it will be a learning experience. I plan to cook more, which will of course require the number to poison control courage and creativity, but I think I can do it. I expect to be blogging a lot more, and playing a lot more Warcraft, and of course posting tons and tons of pictures of Heed and the new dog. Unfortunately, I can't have any alcohol now because of the prozac, so I won't be drowning my sorrows in anything stronger than a case of Dr. Pepper, no matter how much I might want to. I picked up Crazy Aunt Purl's book, "Drunk, Divorced & Covered in Cat Hair", and let me tell you, she is one awesome lady.

So, yeah. That's me as of right now. Take care of yourselves, everyone. I'll be taking care of me.

Henna OK!

Remember my freakout last post? Totally unfounded. As someone on the hennapage forums pointed out to me, "henna grows in the desert, is harvested in the desert, and sits is a warehouse in the desert until it gets to you. A few days in your mailbox won't hurt it."And right she was.

So I mixed up 100g of CCJ's Rajasthani henna, and let me tell you, it is NICE. I used only a pinch of sugar (it said I didn't have to use any, but I am nothing if not paranoid), and it is very stringy, but I think I'm going to go ahead and add a little more in anyways, to make it retain moisture a bit more. The unsealed paste, left on for maybe an hour or so, left a good B4 stain on the back of my hand (I drew a Murloc). I doodled on my palm as well, then almost immediately wiped it off because I had gone in without planning and the result, as happens, was not so great, but I'm getting about the same level of stain so I guess I'll have to live with that for a while.

In dog news, I'm starting to get a little concerned about Maggie. A few times now she's growled at Heed, once tonight, always around food, but while I know Heed doesn't really want to get to her food at all, I also don't want her to become food-aggressive at all, and don't really know what to do. So far we've yelled at her when she does it and sent her outside, where she can't do fun things like be pet and sit on the couch... but it does worry me. I've had Heed since the day he was born, so if it comes down to it, I know who we're keeping, but I'd really like them to be able to get along well enough to continue having them both.

Anyways, next weekend is my godson's 3rd birthday party, so even though I know I should be working on the Cuddlefish, I'm going to get started on a gift for him instead. No, he's not getting the Cuddlefish. Boy's too young to have a proper appreciation of cephalopods.

But he can get this really bitchin' humpback whale.