Bye bye Buttercup.

We finally did it.

I was tired of the peeing and pooping in our closet. Tired of the peeing in the entryway. Tired of the barfing all over the carpet. Tired of her crankiness. Tired of the last 9 years of dealing with her.

So we got rid of her. We tried to give her away but no one wanted her (no surprise there). She's mean, hisses at everyone, won't let you pet her, and - oh yeah. She is bulimic. And doesn't know where to go to the bathroom. And by now she is just beyond training.

We took her down to the local animal shelter on the 20th. The kids were actually fine with it. They didn't like her either. We dropped her off without incident. I had to pay a $10 drop off fee and we were free. Free from that evil cat. Finally.

Two days later I came home to cat barf on the carpet. Apparently Buttercup wasn't always the culprit. Our other cat, Wes, whom we all love, threw up. And suddenly I felt guilt. A lot of guilt. Rick likes to egg me on so he reminded me of her lonely, scared nights in that creepy animal shelter. So I felt really really guilty.

I went online and checked for her on the "adoptable cats" database - she wasn't there. Had she already been adopted? Could we have been that lucky? I checked under her ID number, though, and there she was. With a sad little photo of her in her cage.

More guilt.

I have been checking every day. She still hadn't been put on the "adoptable" list, but she was in the database. Until yesterday. I put in her ID number and it said "no records found."

I have to believe that means that when she came into the shelter someone saw her and wanted her right away -but they had to get her through a 10 day quarantine or something. Which is why she was never put up for adoption. So she was adopted and is probably making some old lady who likes cranky calicos very happy. Right?

Right?