As Humane as is Deemed Sanitary

One of my mother's friends wanted to go to the "humane society" (an interesting name, I think, for a place that houses forgotten pets) to look at dogs after his own dog suddenly died last week. I tagged along with him and my mother, and, of course, I went to visit the cats while my mother and her friend went in the back to the dog section (which, I discovered later, has its own, um, "scent"; I suppose that would be inevitable....). They have a couple of sections where we can basically go in and freely mingle with the four or five cats that are in each of the two sections. While I was in one of the "cuddle rooms," I just sat for a moment and gazed at one particular cat who was on the window sill, staring out at the dreary, rainy-day plains with bare trees. I couldn't help but wonder what someone in his (I think it was a "he") position might have been thinking, stuck in a room like that, looking out at a grey sky and a sort of brown-and-yellow ground (Cats probably don't know from "brown" and "yellow," do they...?). Is this the best of all possible worlds? Is there something nice and worthwhile beyond these walls? It reminded me so much of me.....

.....But they were all nice cats there, although a few of them slept through my entire time there. I'm not the sort of person to disturb sleeping cats, although some younger people who patronize the Humane Society apparently are..... Anyway, one black cat cuddled up in my lap for a little while, and shortly thereafter, a much younger cat, about seven months old, I think, who sort of resembled Lily (picture link) but with more black, eagerly grabbed my fingers and gently teethed on them. She was quite adorable.

I could go on and on about cats.......

.....I'll just say that Lucy fails to have a problem with me smelling like other cats.

You ever suddenly feel the fresh air of a lovely day in late spring when the flowers have mostly bloomed and love is in the air, even though you're stuck indoors in the middle of winter?

Zarquon help me.....I'm still recovering from my loss of wisdom teeth, and all my mother can think of is having me "organize" everything.....

("Organize"....that means I know where everything is now, and will have no idea where it is after it's been organized. We have rather differing opinions on where things belong......)

Dear lord......my mother's yelling at the top of her lungs in the other room. HELP!

GROAN

You'd think a person my father's age would know better than to keep hazardous material within reach of certain household quadrupeds......

Anyone want to adopt a 21-year-old child?

I'm housebroken, I don't bite, and neither my parents nor I can live a harmonious life as long as we live with each other.

TGISB!

SB = Spring Break

White Room - Thoughts of Yesterday (just one song)

This song hit rather close to home for me.......

(Edit: Feel free to request a re-up if you happen to be intrigued enough......)

Seems like such a hell
Why's there such a price to pay?

Why weekends at my place stink

I was clever enough to get accepted into a university that's right across town from where I've lived. So, in order to save m***y on housing, I still live here.....with my folks.

My dad's tolerable, I suppose.......

My mother...well........

Long story short, my mother is the main inspiration for the title of this post.