At about 10 minutes to 4:00 yesterday, I called Misty at work to be sure she was goign to be on time picking me up. She'd driven today, and she'd gone to the gym during her lunch break, so I'd been stuck in the office for nine hours. I was ready to get out. She assured me that she'd be leaving "on the dot."
The dogs have been boarding at the clinic since we went to the beach last weekend, and I knew Misty had planned to bring them home that afternoon (they hadn't come home yet because they needed haircuts and baths, but Misty has to give clients priority, so our dogs often end up waiting a few days). I had a headache, though, and wasn't in the mood to deal with those two idiots clamoring all over the back seat and crying the whole way home as we drove through Friday afternoon traffic. "You're not bringing the dogs home, are you?," I asked hopefully. Luckily, Misty assured that they would be staying at the clinic another night.
A few minutes later, Misty arrived at my office. As I got in the car, I expressed my relief that the dogs weren't there. Then I heard: "Meow."
She did it. She brought home that cat.
On the bright side, though, it is not going to be called Sucka MC. Misty told me that she'd instead named the cat Padmé. Or, more specifically, Padmé Amidala Skywalker Cuthbert. Her theory is that by being named for Darth Vader's wife, the cat will exude a presence that will eradicate all mice from our home.
Or another way to put it is that she'll tear the house apart until she's found those mice!
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