Last night, Ms. P, R and I congregated for dinner. We were not a cheery bunch: R was having A Very Hard Day, I was feeling awful about our finances, and Ms. P was having to deal with the both of us.
(I should have seen this coming. Yesterday, when I drew my daily tarot card, I got The Emperor--we are not amused, nor surprised, that I spent my evening feeling beaten down that I was never taught how to deal with money.)
Apparently, the animals decided it was high time they distracted us. Gracie spent the evening poking her sister to play, running around the living room like a nut, and drinking too much water and throwing it up on the carpet. Phoebe, who has a sore paw, just kept laying down closer and closer to me until I stepped on her every time I moved. Maddie had the zooms and kept caroming off of various pieces of furniture. And Max. Oh Max. Max kept jumping into the turtle tank, which he isn't supposed to do, so I kept pouring water on his head from my can of seltzer. He was very wet and very indignant, thank you very much.
After he and I went four rounds over the turtle tank, I'd cleaned up at least three different spots of vomit, and I'd stepped on Phoebe twice, R went home, noticeably cheerier, and I put the dogs out for their last roam through the jungle that is still our fenced backyard. When I brought them in, Phoebe started sniffing a rolling cart we have just inside the dining room. I thought little of it, shooed her into the living room, and looked at the cart. Only to notice a SNAKE twining around the decorative metal edging.
It was a small little garden snake, and Ms. P deftly picked it up and put it back in our jungle where it belongs, but hello? wildlife? you do not belong in my house. And animals? I would rather you barked at humans less and wildlife more. That is all.