So, about Pip.
Pip is the biggest recent event in my life worth speaking of -- of course there's the usual finance, job, career, and family stuff, but more importantly, Pip. Pip is short for Pippin, which is what relia and I have named the surprise cat we didn't know we wanted -- a stray that turned up on our porch one day a few weeks ago, meowed piteously, we fed her, and she kept coming back. There are neighborhood cats, but this one seemed too skinny and desperate to be someone else's outdoor cat, so we put out some food; she, not being stupid, started coming back to us exclusively, waiting for us to come home, crying at our door, all the usual goddamn cat guilt-trip stuff.
She's scrawny, black, with green eyes. I'll include a picture once there's some natural light for pictures, but for now you're just going to have to picture a black cat with green eyes, except snack-sized and full of the most pathetic goddamn wailing you have ever heard a feline do. We originally figured she was just out of kittenhood (due to her size) and realized she'd adopted herself by hook or motherfucking crook into our responsibility. So we took her to the vet -- which was not cheap -- and found out that she was, for one, probably pretty old (and just malnourished), and for two, constipated and might be suffering from a serious chronic cat illness like feline diabetes or kidney problems. We couldn't afford to have her tested just yet, so we brought her home after an overnight stay and some treatment to see if she felt better.
Pip's living in the (spacious) basement now, as to not spread her allergenic cat dandruff all over the house to sabotage relia 's allergic family members. We're following the vet's instructions, feeding her wet food, and visiting her all the time -- her health's not really improving and the piteous wailing from the basement stairs is definitely audible when she can tell we're walking around downstairs but not paying attention to her.
Goddamn it, Pip. Why can't you be healthier? Why can't you have found a different pair of sentimental suckers? Why can't you talk and tell us what's wrong with you? Why am I venting my angstridden preoccupation with you to the internet? How do you solve a problem like Pipria?
In cheerier news, there were some really fucking adorable snakes at PetSmart and a chatty 13-year-old wanted to be my friend.