Cleaning out the camera
I couldn’t wait â I put in for another job online today, even though that means I’ll have to scout around a little more for job postings next week. This position would include veterinary compounding, which really interests me for obvious reasons.
Meanwhile, this is the first entirely free day I’ve had in a long while, and I took advantage of some time this morning to unload some pictures that were wasting away in the camera. Following is a photo essay on why I am amazed I passed the test on Tuesday.
I’d gotten tired of trying to keep my pencils from the Little Grey Shit, who for some reason absolutely adored them. I finally hit on the “out of sight, out of mind” solution of hiding them under my papers.
Cat 1 : Human 0
Now that she’s got it, the decision: What to do with it?
Of course, the answer is obvious. It needs to be batted off the table. 
Mission accomplished.
Lest the Little Shits Brown and Black feel left out, this is what they’ve been up to while I’ve been typing. The next door neighbor is outside walking their cockapoo and giving it a training session. The Nosey Neighbors are entranced. I can hear them thinking, “The dog actually listens to him? What an idiot!”
LOL – Vogue used to do that with pens. "All pens must be on the floor. Period."
Animals.
They drive us crazy, and keep us sane.
No wonder we are confused all the time.
😉
Saffy was like that with pencils too – never happy until they’d been batted under the sofa.
It’s a weird feeling now she’s gone to put a pencil down somewhere and when you come back it’s still there.
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My cats don’t give a rat’s hind-end about pencils, not when there are red racers to be found outside! The puppies, however, LOVE to chew pencils. Alas, it’s not just tooth marks, but truly chewed UP. Unusable ever more.
They are also very fond of toilet paper tubes, strawberry baskets, and one of my old slippers, but not its mate for some strange reason. I don’t know how many pairs of Sam’s underwear they’ve torn to shreds. If I give them chewies (like pig ears) Ellie always ends up with both of them and if Jethro tries to get his back Ellie barks a shriek of a bark that is like an ice pick through my head. When I pick them up, if I pick Jethro up first, Ellie barks a shrill bark and starts toward the front door which causes Jethro to lose his little pea brain, or rather walnut brain, and run toward the door barking his fool head off. Meanwhile Ellie runs back and asks to be lifted to my lap. She is queen of the fake out, and wants to be lifted to my lap first! Yes, they drive me nuts, but I love those little shits (but not *their* little shits) and wouldn’t have it any other way!
Dusty, who looks remarkably like the artist formerly known as Satan’s Little Fart Cloud, has developed the habit of totally freaking out when I close the bathroom door. I’ve had cats in the past with this affliction but she’s never shown the inclination. The older she gets the clingier she gets. Interesting in that she’d never been particularly affectionate towards me until after Sami passed away. Now she spends the vast majority of her time trying to, literally, herd me back to bed so we can snuggle. I’ve come to the conclusion that I might have to get a purse big enough to haul her around in. Rather like a nightmare version of Paris Hilton and her tiny dogs *shivers*.