Dazed but not confused! My first full weekend of summer. Most all of it has been great. I have been living in my current hood for a year now and I have learned one thing: This place is full of jackasses who do not have any right owning pets. specifically cats. Just this weekend I have found three orphaned kitties who are no more than four weeks old. This was preceded by another ass wipe who dumped off a very friendly, and very pregnant cat, who is less than 12 months old. So now I have two tiny kittens, and one young mom hanging in my t.v. room until I can find them a home. I was able to take the 3 orphans to my vet’s office where they will care for them till a home is found. The lady told me the three kittens brought the day’s total to 10, and it was only 1pm on a Saturday!
I am also a bit sad because Amos, the street thug cat that I took in, had fixed, and fattened up has been missing for four days. I have a pretty good idea he was trapped. and relocated to a field by somebody in the neighborhood. I know there is a huge problem with feral cats around here. The smell, and the fleas are a problem for some. Thing is, people should know the difference between a feral cat, and someone’s pet. More than likely they don’t care. But it is a pretty crappy deal to lose a pet, and not know if they are safe. I know Amos can survive anywhere, so that is giving me some comfort.
Now for some happy tales. Got my fishing license this past Saturday, and I make my first appearance on my mixed senior bowling league Tuesday morning. If it is half as much fun as my senior guy’s only league on Fridays, it will be a real hoot! The only downside tho morning leagues, is the fact the bars are not open 🙂
This Thursday is also pay-day for the Hillbilly. The best part of this check is the fact it contains my coaching stipends. This turns my ten month job into a twelve plus paid job. The extra cash allows for this Hillbilly to buy some of the coldest beer, and best raw meat around. Not to mention many rounds of golf, and plenty of hours of fishing. Maybe I should call it a vacation stipend? Either way, summer is not made for working. I figured this out somewhere around, um, I would say Kindergarten. At age 47, I can honestly say I have never worked full-time during any summer. Don’t get me wrong, I worked various part-time jobs over the summer months, but never an eight to five grinder.
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