Scary

Remember this post? The one about our ant problem? Part of the solution to that problem was the purchase of two of those ant houses, where the ants come and get some food, take it back to the nest, and then they all go to heaven together.

Last night, I was watching the Olympics (of course), when Myra came trotting into the room, quite pleased with herself, chomping down on one of those little poison traps. It took me about three seconds to figure out what it even was, as she'd kind of demolished it.

OMG!!!

My first thought, I'm a little embarrased to say, was that this was karma for killing all of the ants. I know. I'm insane. I know, really - you don't need to tell me. Really.

I panicked a little. I tried to call the Animal Poison Control number, but they charge a $60 consultation fee, and I wasn't ready for that yet. Luckily, I remembered my good friend Alykat, who is awesome and way smart. She gave me good advice, the Fluff never even showed a single symptom indicating that she just ate a bunch of fatal poison, and everything is fine. It didn't stop me from waking up every 30 minutes and shaking her awake to make sure she was okay, of course. So today, she and I are taking it easy and napping while very muscular men jump off of diving boards in China on the TeeVee.

Now, instead of blaming myself for killing all of the ants, I blame the crack-cocaine that is the Olympics.