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I wish, I wish, I wish…

Posted by Anntichrist S Coulter on March 27, 2007 – 12:59 am

I wish that I could remove the screen from my window to get pictures of Papi, Ginger Baker, Smudge & Tommie as they recline and play with one another out on the side lawn of L’Hotel du Fucktards. The little snots won’t talk to me right now because I’d put out the traps the other day to try and loosen or remove Tommie & Ginger’s flea collars (they’re growing like WEEDS!), and in return got three lovely bites from Tommie and nowhere near Ginger. But if you could see the looks on their adorable little faces when I talk to them through the window — priceless.

I wish that the calico girl at the recycling center weren’t too smart for the traps — she’s already knocked-up, so here we go again. I’m going to be fucking with these fucking cats until I die of old age and fucking aggravation. I did manage to trap 3 tomcats last night and today, one solid black and small enough to be Biddy’s non-beer-gutted twin, one tuxedo cat with a white nose and white paws and the general mental condition of Axel Rose on crack, and one long-haired tortoiseshell-and-white boy who is alternately gentle and calm, and Linda Blair’s worst PMS day. They’re not happy about being captured, obviously, and the tabby/tortoiseshell battered his head up against the cage until he gave himself a bloody nose, but at least they’ll be a lot calmer and less procreative when it’s done. Dr. Patterson couldn’t get to them today, but said that she’d snip ‘em first thing tomorrow. The vet’s office is getting sick of me. Oh, well. I spend over $40 a month feeding just THESE ferals, I sure as hell can’t afford to feed MORE AND MORE of ‘em.

If & when y’all can, donate to and pass the word about Cat Haven — they’ve done so much for me & the ferals here, if I hit the Powerball, they’d get a huge chunk of it, right after I build a fucking ANIMAL SHELTER UP HERE.

I wish that Dameon weren’t headed back to Children’s Hospital in NOLA for yet ANOTHER heart surgery.

They said that he was doing really well (his cardiologist & pediatrician), that he probably wouldn’t have to have another heart surgery until next year. And then suddenly today, as they were on their way to a routine check-up, his oxygen dropped again. His teeny little heart isn’t getting him the oxygen that he needs, and they’ve got to open his little chest up again. Fucking nightmarish. For such a tiny little guy to have to go through such shit, so often and at so young an age, it’s just not fucking fair.

It’s not just that he’s a beautiful, remarkably even-tempered child, it’s not even so much that he’s my kin… He’s so smart to be so young — he’s been trying to talk since he hit the planet, and you can TELL that he’s got some seriously important information that he’s trying to convey. There is a very old soul inside of that little body. Fourth Niece’s life has been hell already, I can only imagine what she’s going through now. If there were any “gawd” or “justice” in the universe, Fourth Niece would not be going through even MORE hell, and Dameon would’ve been born healthy and hearty and never have to see another hospital. But there you have it. Further proof.


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  1. 1. Auntie Roo Said:

    Oh hon, sounds like you’re deep in the suckitude of life right now.

    I’ll light a candle for Daemon. He’s been through so much already…

  2. 2. Anntichrist S. Coulter Said:

    Thanks, Roo. And while I don’t have it harder than a whole helluva lot of other people, yes, my life does appear to be stalled in Suckitude for the past seven years.

    Dameon had his surgery this afternoon or in the morning, hope to hear good things. Cross yer fingers.

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