Hurrah! Have current bigarse assignment at work over which I have sweat buckets of blood in the past week or two. Today I was in a lather over a portion of a ridiculously-complex bit o' legal fluff & finally decided I was reinventing the wheel and I was going to state things using Claire-bear logic. I just ran it past the lawyer and it FLEW! I am so very happy. In the past I would write up whatever, turn it in and then bend over for my required whoopin'. But now I turn things in, its looked at as if I possess a brain and its OK!

That I'm so excited over such a small thing - in great scheme of universe anyway - it only goes to show how totally horse whipped I was before. It's nice to work for normal people instead of micromanaging megalomaniacs.

And-in-other-news, the second chapter of my fanfic was posted today and I'm all tickled about it. This particular story is so cute it makes me squeal like a ninny when I read it. It has much to do with pets, and though the animal in the story isn't one I have ever had - it is actually a small non-existant magical creature - it is symbolic of all the pets I've ever loved. The critter dies at the very end and I weep buckets every time I read the last chapter.

Between buckets of blood and buckets of tears I guess I ought up the quantity of fluids I drink, eh?

Click, Click, Click...

On Waldron Street, Lair of the Mighty Raven.

2:00 AM: CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK....

Wha...? (rolls over, strains ears).

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK....

Owl? Naw… to high pitched… but it is in a series…

*snores*

2:10 AM: CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK hiccough ....

Lies awake listening. Still awake two hours later. Clicking repeats randomly over the hour.At end of string of clicks can discern slight hiccough noise. Now am certain it is a rogue Western Screech Owl that took choir lessons.

3:00 AM: CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK ....

Damn it. *rummages in spare room, finds mini-tape recorder but no tapes. Damn it. Goes to front window. Owl is a car, parked right outside from bedroom window. Car alarm (?) or whateverthefeck goes off randomly several times with accompanying click, click, click, click....

4:00 AM: lies in bed contemplating car bombs, murder of car owner and nasty note for placing under wind-shield.

Thought occurs… what if clicking of owl is what is setting off car alarm?

Lies awake remainder of night contemplating car bombs and come to that, owl bombs.

Oooo I would murder to have a picture to go with this post!

December 3oth, exactly one month from yesterday, around 6 am I was at my desk when I heard a noise, and looked up to see a raccoon entering the cat flap into my livingroom.

Apparently some some creatures do not forget anniversaries.

Last night, January 30th, I was again at my computer armoir, writing away, absorbed. I caught motion out of the corner of my eye, assumed it was one of my two cats but I turned my head and surprise, surprise - BIGARSE Raccoon was stared up at me. He was standing in front of the fire place, headed towards the cat flap six feet away.

In other words, whatever Rocky had come in to do - climb the carpeted cat tower to eat cat-food - his business was done and he was on his way back out the cat flap.

As far as I can tell, the happy eating noises I had listened to over the previous half hour or so was not from one of the cats, but was from flippin' Rocky Raccoon!

Aww... our aniversary - he remembered.

We looked each other up and down for what seemed like a minute or two. Then I remembered my camera was next to me on the end table so I reached for it. As I did so, Rocky high-tailed it out the cat flap. Only then did Kola-kitty waltz out from behind the armoir to gave me a look that indicated - 'Don't look at me, I didn't invite him in.'

Right.

So, I have reason to believe all my earlier assumptions made after Rocky's first appearance in December are correct, i.e., I am the sole support and bread winner for myself, my two obnoixious cats, one or two stray cats and a raccoon, all of them in my house, all of them taking from the dole on the carpeted kitty tower next to my kitchen.

My initial response is to leave well enough alone and just feed the furry bastards, but someone brought up an excellent point. Just because Rocky is tidy and considerate occasional dining guest, doesn't mean that his invited buddies will be.

'Hey! Come on over Claire's on Waldron. She's got good eats!'

I do not fancy coming home to a ravished kitchen and the ensuing clean-up.

So, reluctantly I've made a compromise. The cat flap will only be open when I am home, and when I go away for weekends. If Rocky and the others are down with that, we'll get on all right.

Someone told me 'now don't pet Rocky'.

As if! *shudders at thoughts of Grizzly Man documentary. Do not wish my personal legacy to be the crazy cat lady found dead in her home and half devoured by wild raccoons, possoms and stray cats.

You know it's amazing the critters my poor old doggie Chiquilla kept out of my yard. I never knew what a good job she was doing. She probably didn't either. Chiquilla - Sit. Stay. Good dog!

She's much better at that obedience stuff these days. I mean, being dead and all.