When we first arrived here, we had a welcoming party with a bunch of uninvited cows that shitted everywhere.
Two weeks later, Mollie is still finding cowshit to roll in.
Just when I think I have had my fair ration of shit, I discover that the stove in the pink house is covered in mouse shit.
There was also mouse shit in my iron skillet, which made me want to whack Sunshine in the head with the skillet for leaving it over there after he cooked some steak sandwiches. He should have brought my damn skillet home. He should have been cooking the damn steak sandwiches in the magic bus.
Whatever, the damage is done, and I don’t feel like driving his ass to the emergency room.
So I got his nephew Buttuglia to help me clean the skillet properly. I’d have done it myself but I was wearing very expensive jeans. Thank heaven for Buttuglia.
We need cats. Cats will keep the mice and other critters away, which will keep the snakes away because they won’t have anything to eat if the cats eat up all the mice.
Mr. B found us a source of cats. Some reincarnated Buddhist cats or something, at some temple in the metroplex or something. But that was two and a half weeks ago and I have yet to see one of these reincarnated Buddhist cats.
So tomorrow, Sunshine is driving me to the Animal Shelter in town and we are rescuing a cat or two.
Hey, we got Mollie from an animal shelter, and she’s the best thing since peanut butter. We can’t go wrong getting a cat from a shelter, right?