Three’s a Crowd :(

I called in “sick” today for three reasons:

1) They still haven’t figured out our schedule (which apparently is rocket science) and this whole not being able to plan my life beyond the next few days is annoying me and giving me migraines and I needed a mental health day;

2) This need for a mental health day just so happened to coincide with the NHL All Star Game, which, with a 3pm start time, I would have missed had I been at work doing nothing for the third Sunday in a row (Brian just texted me to confirm that I am missing nothing);

3) I found a woman who was interested in Mufasa and since she (like normal people) works during the week, early afternoon today was the best time for her.

And so, as can be implied by #3, Mufasa is gone….  Don’t worry, I googled/facebook stalked the lady – she’s 39, has two adult children, is married, and has a steady job.  I met her at a PetCo, she was enchanted by Mufasa, and the whole exchange took less than 5 minutes.  It’s feeling pretty bittersweet right now.  One the one hand, he deserves to have a home where he isn’t locked in a walk-in closet for all but a few hours a day.  One the other, he’d been here nearly a month and had started to worm his way into my heart, despite my efforts to keep him out.

I know this is for the best – Mufasa didn’t fit in here in several ways.  Aside from not liking Albert, Mufasa and I weren’t a great fit either.  He’s a loveable, sweet cat, but he always needed to be the center of attention.  If I was somewhere, he was there, and if he wasn’t in my lap or in my arms, he was meowing for attention.  It got pretty damn annoying, not going to lie. I couldn’t be mad at him, but….exasperated is a good word for it.  I’ve been spoiled in the past.  Whiskers, Max, Halifax, and Charlie have all been lap cats who love being pet, but they settle down after a couple minutes and let you do your thing, and half the time they’re perfectly content to do there own thing. And Albert’s very self-sufficient.  Mufasa was just….too much.  I told the woman to give me a call if things didn’t work out, so this might not be the last I see of Mufasa, but he’s such a bundle of love that I’d be very surprised to get that call.

 

Sidenote: In a totally weird parallel, I found myself vetting Mufasa’s potential new owners much the same way I vet my dates….. There were two people interested in him before the lady I ultimately chose, but neither of them could spell or punctuate to save their lives and based on that I decided there was no way they were getting near my (temporary) cat.  Snobbish as it is, I don’t want him to go to a low income home. Hey, he might be turned out if money gets tight (yes, I know that’s unlikely, but I can’t help that my mind thinks these things and I never would have been able to live with that possibility hanging over my head).

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