and then I found five dollars

This morning, when I opened the garage door, there was a rabbit sitting in our driveway. He gave me the side-eye, as if to say, “YOU DON’T SEE ME, YOU DON’T SEE ME, I WAS JUST LEAVING.” I went about my business instead of staring at him and shrieking, “WHO IS THE CUTEST BUNNY IN THE WHOLE WORLD...IT’S YOU!” (which is what I desperately wanted to do) and he slowly hopped his way across the street.

We have a lot of wildlife in our neighborhood, especially considering we live in a fairly populated area. But our street dead-ends into a small wooded area that I guess is big enough to house all manner of wildlife. Plus, you know, many of the yards on our street are fairly large and/or have a shed that can easily house a family of groundhogs through a hard, cold winter. And then if that family is relocated, another groundhog might move in. You know, HYPOTHETICALLY. Or not hypothetically, which is why said shed now looks like this: 

Joe was quite proud of this. I just wanted to smash the shit out of it with a sledgehammer.

But that’s a story for another day, for today I want to talk about how often animals make me cry because you guys? I am the biggest pussy. Seriously. I don’t know when this happened (birth?) but pretty much all animals, whether they’re being cute or sad or GOD FORBID hurty, turn me into a weepy mess. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.

I met some friends last weekend for dinner and drinks, right next to Wittenberg’s campus. After dinner, we decided to take a walk around campus so we could see what had changed (um, everything basically). Most students were already gone, so things were very quiet, but we did make a friend. While walking through a parking lot, we noticed a small cat sitting under a street light. I assume is not uncommon on most college campuses. Students get kittens, the kittens grow into cats, and they are either deemed outside cats or abandoned altogether at the end of the year.

This cat decided that we looked like nice people, I guess, because it followed us ALL AROUND CAMPUS. Until we got to a busy street. It thought better of crossing with us and instead plopped down on the sidewalk, which was unfortunate timing, because we’d decided to give it some water once we got back to our cars. We went to a bar for another drink and, although Joe was hoping I would not do this, I drove around campus looking for the cat before I headed home. Alas, I did not find it, so instead I made up a story about how a nice couple found it and took it home to their daughter who named in Binxy and everyone lived happily ever after and so THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED OK?

But the whole thing just made me sad. The poor kitty! Following us around! Was it lonely? Hungry? Thirsty? All of the above? Who knows. I wish I’d found it before I left campus. I could have at least taken it to SICSA the next day, although Max and Phoebe probably wouldn’t have been happy with a houseguest, even if only for a night.

SPEAKING of Max. He made me sort of weepy the other day, too, but this is a regular occurrence because he’s SUCH A GOOD BOY. I took him for a walk and at one point he started limping. He used to do that at our old place because sometimes a piece of the teeny tiny gravel would get caught between his paws, so I thought maybe the same thing had happened. But no! He’d stepped on a thorn or something, some sharp, skinny, twiggy piece of wood and it was stuck in his little paw! So I stooped down to pull it out, fully expecting him to bite me because it probably hurt a lot, but instead he licked my hand. LICKED MY HAND. And then looked up at me with his stupid sweet face and my heart burst into a billion tiny pieces and I scooped them up and put them in my pocket so I could glue them all back together once I got home which turned out to be a bigger project than I anticipated WHO KNEW.

AND FINALLY, don’t even get me started on the Jurassic Bark episode of Futurama NO I SAID DON’T I CAN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT WITHOUT CRYING. Here, cry with me: 

(I'm really, really sorry I just did that to you.)