Friday, October 10, 2008

get ready for the crying game (and I'm not talking about the Irish Republican Army)

it may be time to give Clown Baby away. cue: tears.
yesterday we had a minor emergency at my apartment which turned into Homer discovering Clown Baby which turned into a massive ulcer in my stomach because now I officially have to ask him if I can have a cat (definitely a LOT after the fact).
Its a good process to go through...I'm being more honest with Homer and if he says yes, then I won't have to be terrified of Clown Baby getting in the window any longer. But, if he says no, I'll have to ship off Clown Baby to a friend (2 blocks away) like a little Great Depression kid whose parents needed to entrust him with someone else for a little bit.

Will he forget me? Maybe a little.
Will my "to scratch love on her arms" scratches heal? Definitely a lot.
Will my sleep be uninterrupted and free from fear of being pounced on during my sleep? Fo-sho.

Ultimately will it be better for him? He'll be loved just the same. He may get more flicks on the nose at his new home, but that will make him better behaved...

All questions I have to wrestle through as I face the real possibility that I have to give up my first born.

RIP Clown Baby. cue: more tears. (I'll post pictures soon...)

2 comments:

Anna said...

How sad! I hope that your landlord lets you keep him!!!

Juliette said...

Maybe when Clown Baby moves he can get a better name so he is not the laughing stock of the entire cat community. J/k Clown Baby is just the name I'd expect of a Shelby Schwitters pet - cute and kooky!