Welcome to Gaia! ::

But I don't want a new cat... crying I've gone through enough of them. Spice, Black, Cloud, Peter, Taz, Pumpkin... Galahad will be next. I know it. He's such a spaz that something will happen and he'll be gone.

... But I WANT to drink too much. I want to forget and not be ... that which I always pretending to be. But I'm afraid of what I'd become, if I forget myself, I'm afraid I'd lose all of my hard work, for what? A night's drunken, blurred memories and the ridicule of those who witnessed it.

So I pay attention and take small sips, small sips, not so much that I lose control, just enough so that my world gets all fuzzy around the edges, and I feel warm and cushioned from reality. Right now, this alcohol cushion seems to be the only physical comfort I have, but I'm not going to pay attention to how protected I feel, I don't want to repeat this too frequently, and this would be a very good reason to make an excuse to do just that.

I'm glad that I don't buy alcohol very often. Because there's always the chance that I will give in, and drink too much, and relax my careful self-control. Because it would be so nice to let go. It's so tempting. I am terribly curious, I want to find out.

But... I don't want to make a bargain without reading the fine print, and when it comes to making deals with alcohol, there is no contract.

Glad that I seem to be a philosophic nearly-drunk instead of a weepy nearly-drunk. That's good to know.

Damn you Gaia and your persistance to make it difficult to put my Avie in all black when I'm sad...

edited: Reinhart and clyde don't even work...

And on the current subject; I found out a few months back that our beloved family cat, Harlequin ("Harley"), was killed by the neighborhood cat murderer, and Dad found him. And never told the rest of us. This was over ten years ago.

I had accepted that he was gone, and I knew that it was most likely that a coyote or something got him, as he was a wanderer, but not knowing for sure, I really hoped that he was still alive out there.

Harley was my sister's cat, but we all adored him, he was a great kitty. Sucks that the cat killer got him. I never asked Dad for details, but I know that the cat killer had used staple guns on other cats in the neighborhood. sad

We just have mean dogs around here and coyotes... I hate Indiana Conservation Officers for introducing them back into the state and protecting them. I have FIVE packs within a four mile radius of my house! Daddy needs to go hunting again. ninja

I grew up in, and I'm not kidding, in a walled community to keep the coyotes out of the trashcans when I lived in California.

Less than ten houses down the street and around the corner, was one of the gates, and beyond the gate, on the other side of the walls, was desert, river, and lots and lots of open space. In all that time, I only saw one live coyote though. They tended to avoid people.

Someone ran over one on their ATV though. We all went to look at it one afternoon.

Urk. Now that is bad. They've lost their fear of humans, s**t, stupid hand-feeding softhearted environmentalists*. gonk Perhaps you guys should do something to reinstill that fear. Like slingshots. Making them hurt might make a difference. Though. It might make them angry and attack you. So... *cough* If you can get them to associate Humans with Bad Things, they should go back to their normal ways.

* I have nothing against environmentalists in general; it's when they're ******** morons that I get irritated.