WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU A WAKE-UP CALL: Don’t Mess With Black Ice Or A Black Egg

Coming home from the mall the other day in the car, I went to stop at an intersection and I hit a patch of black ice, which then caused me to slide right out into oncoming traffic. It was a few seconds of pandemonium, with me jamming on the brakes hard, and frantically (and pathetically, as my husband would say because he’d know what to do – obviously) waving my hands in the air, and my daughter yelling, “Mom, mom, mom, what the fuck? Are you trying to kill us?”

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU A WAKE-UP CALL AND YOU ALMOST DIE: Don't Mess With Black Ice Or A Black Egg | TheFurFiles

Clearly, I wasn’t. I’m not a maniac. I was just trying to drive home so she could start making supper, probably to next tell me that we’d forgotten a “key” ingredient, which I’d have to go back to the store to get anyway, because you cannot change the Chez Tess scheduled menu, nor can you make any sort of substitutions, even if it’s something like replacing white flour with whole wheat flour, which in my opinion, would be the better choice, but for her, would the the end of the goddamn world. Silly me.

Luckily, I drive very slowly and carefully (like any thoughtful and upstanding citizen would), and the other drivers saw me coming and went around. Eventually, the car came to a halt, but not before giving me a few more grey hairs. Another day, another dollar, I always say.

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Be forewarned, this is another “dogs versus cats” post, inspired by the fact that my younger son went and bought yet another puppy (see below – his name is Prince) to keep his first puppy company, obviously. But because my son works a lot (like I don’t), and because I love animals (like I do), I end up puppy-sitting quite a bit, which – although I don’t mind so much, I can’t say the same for my husband – has literally turned my house has into a poop-filled, barf-covered, meowing, barking, growling, hissing nuthouse. As if it wasn’t crazy enough already.

ARE DOGS SMARTER THAN CATS? That's Debatable | TheFurFiles

You see, the cats hate the dogs. HATE the dogs. Particularly Lionel. They want them dead. I can see it in their squinted to sliver-sized, golden eyes, and I can hear it in their low, rumbling, thunder-like snarls. Conversely, the dogs might have wanted to play with the cats – in the beginning – but after getting swatted in the face on more than one “holy shit, that hurts” occasion, they have since given up on the possibility, and turned to a life of “let’s see if we can piss these felines off as much as is dogly possible” mayhem, which is a lot, let me tell you.

Also, because the new puppy is the size of a hamster (no joke), he cannot – let me repeat, CANNOT – be put down and left to roam the house alone. A few things could (and would) happen, if we allowed this. He would a) get stepped on, for sure. Seriously, you can barely see him, especially if you are looking down from human height. It’s like he’s a walnut that a someone dropped on the floor. Or a balled up kid’s sock. Or an hors d’oeuvre of some kind, something with bacon.

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IS SMOKING WEED BAD? For My Neighbour’s Brother It Seems To Be

My neighbour’s brother is a pothead (possible cokehead). How do I know? Because one day, when I was walking down the street, he asked me if I had “dope”. He was standing on his brother’s front porch, looking pretty “baked”, as the saying goes.

“No,” I said. “I don’t.” Jesus, couldn’t he see that I was walking my cats? (And no, I’m not a cokehead too. The farthest thing from it. I just don’t want my kitties to get hit by cars, AND we live near a busy street, AND they are a fairly rambunctious breed, AND – as my kids always point out – I am a bit over-the-top when it comes to animals, like I’d do anything to make them happy, like I enjoy their company better than I do humans, which is true, most of the time.)

IS SMOKING WEED BAD? For My Neighbour's Brother It Seems To Be

Anyway, there he was – my neighbour’s brother – standing on the porch, not really doing anything that I could see, except existing, maybe waiting for someone, meditating, vegetating, more likely stagnating – or maybe, he was just really confused. Drugs will do that to a person. Not sure what you call it when you are idling in one spot staring vacuously out into space. Whatever it is, that’s what he was doing.

I was with my son and his friend at the time – and the cats, of course – when I heard this voice coming from his direction. “Hey, you [muffled speaking]…”

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