wild cat chase
Or: booboo bait and switch.
Given that it obsessed me much while spending an otherwise very pleasant five days in LA last week, a cat update is perhaps in order. It was somewhat shocking to get back from my travels and discover that sad, cute, Booboo was still available for adoption in Brooklyn. I even called to make sure, but yes, it seems despite my week's hiatus, it was not too late to meet this sad, sad cat.
As a result, I spent a fairly large chunk of this past weekend heading out the far end of the 3 line, to the Brooklyn branch of Animal Control's shelter, seeking said sad cat.
If you're pressed for time, I'll give you the short version: Booboo seems not to exist. *Sigh.* Oh well.
If you have longer, read on.
I got to the shelter, which is some distance from the subway station, and looked at cats. I then asked after A606385, who wasn't in the cage she was supposed to be in, and not in any other cage either, maybe at an offsite event, dunno, sorry. On Sunday, I had nothing much going on, so obsessively went back all the way to the far end of the 3 line, only to have the same thing happen again.
Another adoption event was going on, this one in Prospect Park. And, as I haven't given in fully to any given obsession in quite a while, I figured I would stop at the park along the way home. Of course, the convenient 3 train stop, Grand Army Plaza, was at the NW end of the Park, and the adoption event was at the SW end, but hey, for Booboo I was prepared to walk the width of the park on a hot day.
And again, no Booboo to be found. A helpful animal control person at the park pointed out that 606385 is an awfully low number (they've got cats in the 610XXX range already), and although she called the office and got much the same response I had ("she's somewhere, but not in the cage she's supposed to be in"), the clear implication is that poor Booboo has slipped through the cracks of the system.
And I'm left with a couple of reactions that I'm juggling today. First, it's been a long time since any living (okay, formerly living) creature inspired so much time and effort on my part, and it's kind of nice to be so inspired once in a while. Second, now that I've started thinking about it should I follow through and get some other pet? There were a couple of other really very engaging cats (poor lonely doomed kitties to love!) at the shelter, who might be nice to have around. But as I look at my small and none-too-tidy apartment, I wonder if it's such a good idea.
The likeliest outcome of this weekend adventure is that I sop up any guilty feelings I may have the old fashioned way, in the form of a donation to animal control, and take a solemn vow never to take a casual look through their database again.
Given that it obsessed me much while spending an otherwise very pleasant five days in LA last week, a cat update is perhaps in order. It was somewhat shocking to get back from my travels and discover that sad, cute, Booboo was still available for adoption in Brooklyn. I even called to make sure, but yes, it seems despite my week's hiatus, it was not too late to meet this sad, sad cat.
As a result, I spent a fairly large chunk of this past weekend heading out the far end of the 3 line, to the Brooklyn branch of Animal Control's shelter, seeking said sad cat.
If you're pressed for time, I'll give you the short version: Booboo seems not to exist. *Sigh.* Oh well.
If you have longer, read on.
I got to the shelter, which is some distance from the subway station, and looked at cats. I then asked after A606385, who wasn't in the cage she was supposed to be in, and not in any other cage either, maybe at an offsite event, dunno, sorry. On Sunday, I had nothing much going on, so obsessively went back all the way to the far end of the 3 line, only to have the same thing happen again.
Another adoption event was going on, this one in Prospect Park. And, as I haven't given in fully to any given obsession in quite a while, I figured I would stop at the park along the way home. Of course, the convenient 3 train stop, Grand Army Plaza, was at the NW end of the Park, and the adoption event was at the SW end, but hey, for Booboo I was prepared to walk the width of the park on a hot day.
And again, no Booboo to be found. A helpful animal control person at the park pointed out that 606385 is an awfully low number (they've got cats in the 610XXX range already), and although she called the office and got much the same response I had ("she's somewhere, but not in the cage she's supposed to be in"), the clear implication is that poor Booboo has slipped through the cracks of the system.
And I'm left with a couple of reactions that I'm juggling today. First, it's been a long time since any living (okay, formerly living) creature inspired so much time and effort on my part, and it's kind of nice to be so inspired once in a while. Second, now that I've started thinking about it should I follow through and get some other pet? There were a couple of other really very engaging cats (poor lonely doomed kitties to love!) at the shelter, who might be nice to have around. But as I look at my small and none-too-tidy apartment, I wonder if it's such a good idea.
The likeliest outcome of this weekend adventure is that I sop up any guilty feelings I may have the old fashioned way, in the form of a donation to animal control, and take a solemn vow never to take a casual look through their database again.
posted by gloomyjoe at 9:55 PM
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