My BFF called a few weekends ago, a “friend” of her family was moving to a new house and his new fiancee doesn’t like animals. (If you’re looking for a jockstrap in his house, you’ll probably find her wearing it. Middle aged crap for him, she’s leading him around by his little head….)
Mario’s original owner died in a car accident eight years ago. The new house is in the foothills, where there are lots of coyotes. Her husband wouldn’t let her take the kitty (“I’m not cleaning up any more of his messes!” referring to the PW guy), so she called me, in tears.
He’s here now, he’s been here since July 5th. He’s a nice kitty, today was his first day that he didn’t spend the daylight hours sleeping under the sofa. I think he might be acclimating to our schedule.
Oh, that guy? He also had three dogs. Two found new homes, the third he took with him. A little Pomeranian. He put the elderly dog outside a couple of nights ago because he puked inside. The next morning, they found his remains. Coyote got him. Everyone warned him that coyotes have no probems with six foot fences.
Rat bastard. And that woman he’s with for sure has a heart of gold.
Cold, hard and yellow.
The bitch. I hope Karma takes a huge piece of both of their asses.
At least Mario is safe.
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