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Butterfly: not the pretty-winged variety
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gemsling
The main benefit of Deborah leaving home - her cat going with her - has evaporated. Turns out she's not allowed to have any animals not in cages. (At least she can take the guinea pigs, as she's only had them a few weeks.)

Butterfly looks nice and has a nice name. If I think of anything positive to add, I'll let you know... Though I didn't get around to posting it, here's what I wrote last week:
If I have to wake up to the meow of that pesky cat one more bloody time, I swear to God I will... do absolutely nothing. Sadly, it's not my place to take him to the top of a tall building, swing him around heartily by the tail and let go, shot-put style.

Just as Tiger Lily can't learn not to jump up on Theresa when she's at the computer, Butterfly can't learn that I'm just going to put him outside in the morning as soon as he meows for food and attention. I can't give in and feed him; besides, he'd meow again anyway. And I can't ignore him - he'd wake the kids.

There is one advantage to Deborah leaving: if she's not walking through the house to go to work early in the morning, he won't be able to sneak in when she opens the door. Obviously this only works if he happens to be outside in the first place.

Hey, at least bitching about her cat has taken my mind off Deborah leaving. I'm sure I'll adapt - we all will - but it's sad to see her go. At least I can join in the excitement of the move, as I'm not working tomorrow and have offered to help.
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