Doing nothing was a resounding success. I still feel pretty much like ass, but right this minute I’m less convinced it’s the early stages of bird flu. I just feel….weird. Off. The panic attack this afternoon was only about the fourth one I’ve ever had, and I have to say I really hope it’s the last.

Anyway. I’ve moved from doing-nothing on the couch to doing-nothing in bed, which feels like an improvement, somehow. But since I’ve been nothing but whiny and venty all day, I thought maybe I’d do a happier post before I sleep (yes, way too early, but this day has clearly Not Worked Out). So, in happier news, I have a new–um–sister. A furry, overly-exuberant sister who’s only tenuously house-trained.

My mom adopted this little cutie two days ago–she joins my other furry sister (on the bed in the top pic) at Mom’s Total-Sucker Animal Rescue.

My mom rescues pets. It’s one of the things I find most incredibly awesome about her. Everyone in my mom’s town (and neighboring towns–and once, actually, two states away*) knows that she can’t say no to pets that are in danger of being abandoned/mistreated/euthanized, so people are constantly approaching my mom with their sob stories: “my aunt can’t take care of the dog,” “I thought the dog would be smaller,” “the dog knocked over my toddler” (my personal favorite). And my mom swears she can’t take any more animals, and then, inevitably, I have a new furry sibling by the next day. Mom actually places most of these animals (mostly dogs, though there was an incident with a pregnant cat and way too many kittens recently)–she’s got a set of adoption-criteria a mile long (example: “A woman at work is interested in the puppy, but I don’t trust her to not make it live outside, so I’m going to tell her no”)–so really, they’re mostly furry-foster-siblings.** This dog, though–the way my mom is talking her up already, she might be a keeper.

We briefly explored the idea of the puppy coming to live with us here, and GB and I have planned on getting a dog for quite a while now…but I think this dog might be my mom’s. And we might need a dog a bit younger (this big ol’ puppy is 6 months old), so the cats can learn him a thing or two before he outweighs them.

Then again, we do have some giant cats. So maybe that’s not a problem.

I’m sure there will be much dog-blogging during my Christmas visit. Can you hardly wait?

*The two-state-away thing was crazy: mom drove 10 hours to pick up a friend-of-a-friend’s dog, drove 10 hours back with the dog, and spent the better part of a month finding it an acceptable home.
**When I say mom can’t say no, I’m serious; last year she fostered a pit bull that made her so nervous she had my sister come over to help feed it–but she still took her time placing it to make sure it went to a happy home. My mom rocks.