Wednesday, August 27, 2008

We picked up Mr. D at the vet this morning, leaving behind a bit of his anatomy. He doesn't seem to be missing it much so far. He has spent the day lounging around on my bed, having the girls fuss over him. Mainly, he seems grateful to be back. I think he had begun to suspect that we'd dropped him off at the vet's office and had no intention of coming back.
Cleo, our female cat, seemed rather taken aback to find that we'd brought Mr. Darcy back home again. And come to think of it, she seemed to have enjoyed her day without him yesterday a little too much. In fact, we have a theory that SHE was actually behind Mr. D's bad behavior that got him sent to the vet for "re-adjustment".
"Go ahead and pee on the bed again. They LOVE that." she whispered in his fluffy white ear.
"Gee. I don't know. They seemed kind of upset about it last time..."
"No! Really! They thought it was ADORABLE.. I heard them talking about it afterwards."
"You really think so?" Mr. Darcy said doubtfully
"Absolutely. Trust me."
When her rival was carried off in the dreaded blue carrying case yesterday morning, Cleo thought that her diabolical plan had succeeded.
But Mr. D is back and better than ever, even if somewhat lacking in reproductive parts.

I haven't blogged about the goat village visit because we have been WAY too busy around here. We are stripping wallpaper, painting walls, repairing tiles and we just bought a new car.

Yes, a brand-new, straight from the factory kind of car. The kind that doesn't have to be repaired on a weekly basis.
It's a Renault Grand Scenic. The big attaction is that it has seven seats, but isn't as big as a minivan.
When I picked it up today, the dealer kept asking me if I was "excited". The answer is: no, cars do not excite me. This kind of crushed her. I guess she's used to people being wound up about buying a car?
I found it pretty strange.
Yes, I am happy to have a car that can carry my family and friends and that can haul around stuff I need. It's nice, but not exciting... Exciting is a word I reserve for great books, travel, goat races and, of course, the Frogman (aka my French husband).

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