cat day.

Yesterday I had the effing fantastic idea to go to the local animal shelter (and when I say "local" I mean this is the corporate multiplex of shelters) to adopt a cat. It's been a few months since my beloved Jude was unethically put to rest and I'd like a new snuggle buddy. So all day my coworkers and I were emailing back and forth pictures from their website and giggling through the cube walls at our own jokes. So by the end of the day, I was convinced to go take a peek. And let me also include the fact that the shelter has, within the past week, taken in over 100 cats from a home in Wyoming that housed... wait for it... holyshit150 cats. That's disgusting even for me. And if anyone from 2120, 132, 505, ChiO, 208, 934 or 1T can tell you, I freaking lurv cats. It should be embarrassing, but face it: I don't care. So back to my story...

The shelter has been giving away free cats for the past week because of the overflow thanks to those nucking futzers in Wyo. I do love me some Wyoming, but those people really put a damper on my feelings. I'm fascinated with hoarders, mostly because what they have is a completely ridiculous mental illness and I want to know what goes through someone's mind when they think that having 100+ cats roaming around is normal. Strike that... anyone who has more than 3 (and 3 is pushing it) cats needs to reevaluate, if you ask me.

I love that all of the secret cat people of Denver will only come out of the woodwork when it's a free altered/vaccinated cat being offered. Heaven forbid you actually admit that you'd like a cat and would pay for its shots and to have its sexyparts snipped. But needless to say, the whole "Cat Days" thing going on at the shelter should have been the red flag. Why didn't I see it? Clearly I was blinded by love, which is typically how I choose to live my life. Why not love while you live and live while you love. Try it, you might like it.

So I go there thinking, "OK I probably won't bring one home today, but I'll spend 30ish minutes playing with them and make my decision then." Ha, silly girl. I walked in and checked out the cats, then took my place in the waiting area and watched all the crazy cat people shuffling around. What a treat. The only thing I didn't get to see was a cat-embroidered sweater. Otherwise I saw all of the typical cat-lover styles: women in stretch pants with dirty oversized T-shirts, hippie girlies, girlies who love girlies, boys who love boys, weird farmer man who couldn't shut the eff up and smelled like manure, overweight single middle-aged women with bad haircuts, cankles, kids with ADHD, fanny packs... the list goes on.

Two hours later, I was still sitting there. I kept looking at my watch thinking my turn would be next and every minute that passed I got more annoyed and more tired. Finally when the crowd got smaller and my pride faded, I went to the desk to talk to one of the adoption reps. She told me that two of the three cats on my list were "just cats" meaning... not "pets," meaning... you just wasted your night, sucka. And the third had just been adopted. Holyf-ck. I pleasantly thanked them for their time, praised their efforts, Nancypants'd through a few more surface-y things, then tucked my tail between my legs and shuffled out the door. Just fantastic.

All I have to say is this:

1. I will only be adopting cats from farms or buying one from a breeder.
2. Thank you, silly old woman wearing a fanny pack, for not telling me the cats on my list were PsOS.
3. Is this what I get for liking cats? Come on, someone's gotta do it.
4. I need a nap.