So I look out the window this morning and see a large shadow hunched over one of the door food pans. Now, lately the neighbor's cat has taken to coming over and stalking the pans (yesterday she was sleeping in one), but I knew damn well this was bigger than that, and it sure as hell wasn't cat-shaped. But the light was still low, so it took me a minute to realize it was a raccoon.
We haven't seen a raccoon here since last fall. And this one was HUGE. Arnahld Schwarzaraccoon. So Doug and I watched him for a minute until something startled him and he took off running... err, waddling... down the trails I made in the woods. (Yes, he used them. He went in at the entry point, turned left toward trail two & three, made the curve down to the right.) Henceforth he shall be known as BFFR*.
In other news, this afternoon, I'm taking Max to the vet for a follow-up on his tooth extraction. He's doing pretty good, but I'm afraid he might be getting an infection again, so we're taking a trip. Better to be a little paranoid and get it nipped in the bud. I expect the Doc will look him over, give him a shot, and send us on our merry way. Plus, I'll get a chance to weigh Fatboy and see if he's really gained the weight I think he's gained or if that's just wishful thinking. (I have been calling Max 'Fatboy' since we found him starving. It'll be nice when he can finally live up to the moniker.)
Yesterday, I ran a boatload of errands and learned a few important things. 1) I'm sorely out of practice for hours of errands. 2) I really need to eat before I start a boatload of errands. 3) Nutrageous is a poor substitute for Snickers when it comes to perking a hungry B.E. up. 4) Those new protein pack things from Oscar Meyer are a godsend. This carnivore needs meat.
I now have a post office box so I can sign up with MailChimp to send out newsletters to you lovely people. MailChimp demands an address - because the spam-police and the FCC or something demands they have addresses for newsletter sender-outers.
I figured out something. You see, for years, I've heard people say how much they hate Walmart, and I really didn't see it. Yesterday, I figured it out. It's not Walmart they hate - it's the people in Walmart. My Walmart is a lovely place when there are few people there. I can find what I want easily, and the employees are pleasant, chatty, friendly people. But later in the day, it's a freakin' madhouse in there. Holy crap.
So, I was at Walmart later than I usually get to the place and it was packed. (Okay, packed in relation to its relative emptiness at my usual shopping time.) I navigated through the shoppers to the back because I needed a new thumb drive. I looked and looked, but I couldn't find them any freakin' where. Then I located a dude sitting on the floor stocking shelves (wearing the standard Wally-world attire and a nametag**), so I jovially walked up to him and quite cheerfully asked him where they were hiding the thumb drives. The kid gets up off the floor, nails me with a scathing look, and informs me in a snotty tone that they do not hide things anywhere. Then he points and tells me where to find them. I was like 'Dude, THAT was a JOKE.' I mean, chill the hell out. (I said the joke thing, not the chill-out thing.) I still love Walmart, though. I just know better than to go there after 10am.
What random things are on your mind today?
*BFFR does not stand for Best Friends Forever Really. Nor does it stand for Big Friendly Fidgety Raccoon. It means Big Fat Fuckin' Raccoon. I mean, oh holy shit, he's huge. Longer than my long cat, wider than my fat cat. Dog big. Cornfed American Ozark Raccoon.