My new favorite thing:

(Not pictured: Our cat)











Washing our damn cat.
There is something deeply satisfying about turning the shower head on the little feline she-demon. I think it's the same pleasure soldiers at Guantanamo get when they water board a terrorist. She has been a frakkin' pest lately. The hotter it gets, the more demanding Kona becomes. She's an indoor/outdoor cat, and she's taken to running around the storm drains under our neighborhood so she reeks something awesome, and has also gotten lazy about cleaning her own ass. 'Course, if I had to clean my shitter with my own tongue, I probably wouldn't do it either, but you know... So, Tarable gifted me with the chore of de-stanking Sheba, Queen of the Urban Jungle. Best present ever. I didn't know how much fun it would be. I chuckled at her piteous mewing as I hosed her down. I laughed triumphantly every time I blocked her sudden mad, wet dashes for freedom. It was like payback for every time she peed somewhere she wasn't supposed to, or clawed the door to be let in/out/in again. And in the end, I felt the heady rush of victory as I stood proudly over her shrunken, disheveled, but distinctly less stinky form. I think Kona is getting bi-weekly baths from now on, and I'm going to be much happier for it.