My cats were at the vet yesterday, being neutered. They were there all day while I was losing my mind in worry. I didn’t really want to get them fixed, but if they’re going to be outdoor cats, you pretty much have to it. So I spent my day dividing my time between cleaning and staring at the telephone. After everything had been cleaned, I decided that TV would be my best bet in eliminating the images of tiny testicles flying through the air that were flashing through my mind. I flip through channels until I get to Food TV and wouldn’t you know it, Tyler’s show is focusing on meatballs today. Meatballs? Meat balls?? This can’t be a coincidence. This is God telling me that I had no right to take away the cats ability to procreate. I set down my scotch & soda and start drunkenly sobbing into my hands. Now there will be no mini-Gatsu and no Griffith Jr. Boo hoooo! I look back at the TV and see Tyler adding some mozzarella cheese to center of his meatball. Sniff. Mozzarella? That’s a good idea. And now he’s coating them in bread crumbs and frying them. Sniff. That looks pretty good. I’m actually kind of hungry. The phone rings. It’s the vet telling me that cats are fine. Yeah, whatever. Maybe I’ll make some meatballs for supper…

Seriously, though. I brought them home and it’s so sad. They’re all shaved back there and they were out of it from the anesthesia. They slept most of the evening and ate a little bit but this morning… it’s so sad, I can’t even believe it. This morning Griffith was like, “Meow” and it sound several octaves higher than normal. Now they’re going to sound like little sissy cats. Little sissy eunuch cats.

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