To get all emotional on your asses. Really. Am trying hard.

But it’s a little hard not to when you’re faced with having to say goodbye to this:

Thus is life though, n’est-ce pas? Crazy difficult to believe that the next time I see her will be at my f-ing wedding.

Wedding, People. Did you hear that? In case you didn’t: WEDDING!!!!

The one that I’m half prepared for and is half paid for. Actually not even half paid for. Maybe this is what happens when you do biz with the North Woods folk. And if so, I really like this whole trust in the goodness of other people.

Speaking of goodness. I’m wondering if you can ever be a little too good of a do-gooder? I am attempting Mama-sadness diversion.

I might be taking on a bit more than I can handle. Yes, you guessed it — we’re back to the cats. My garage is currently home to two at the moment and I’m hoping the third is somewhere lurking in my backyard bushes.

I got three strays fixed and pick up was this afternoon. I was reminded that they all needed to be kept away from aggressive male cats and healing was important.

With those sorts of instructions I couldn’t very well drop them off where I found them so what was my brilliant plan? None other than my garage.

Originally we were going to set them up outside. But just as Brother and I got two settled in a cage, the skies opened. Torrential downpour. We thought the cage was half covered, but that doesn’t matter when it starts straight up flooding in your backyard.

Poor cats. Huddled in a nasty litterbox full of water meowing loudly in protest. Out we go to move them into the garage. Getting completely soaked.

It was so bad that our new neighbors stepped out on their back porch to laugh at us. In all fairness, it had to have been a hilarious sight. Running back and forth for water, food, more litter, blankets, and anything else I thought they’d need.

In between rain breaks, I’ve been walking my street calling out for the cat and wishing it had a name, because me yelling, kitty no name, isn’t really doing it.

What lengths won’t I go to for the damn felines?

Now the moral dilemma of : do I keep them here as outdoor cats — there is no way I can handle more than three indoor animals — or return them to their previous “home”?

Can someone please just give me a few mill so I can go do kitty rescue all day long? I’d really appreciate that. Would make my life much easier.

I’d also like to say that I do believe The BF deserves an award at this point. He has fully supported all rescuing of animals. And the buying of 3394893483 bags of cat food.

But, as I said, at least kitty rescuing is a good diversion to Mama-sadness. Ah. There I go. I said it. Once again reminded of the inevitable, rather evil, departure.

How am I supposed to do this daily life thing without her? She will leave and I will settle back into my routine, but still, something will be missing. It always is when she isn’t here.

Le grand sigh.