Winning the War on Vermin


You may or may not recall that although Junior is adorable and I do love him best, Sparky was actually recruited by us Gottliebs to win the war on vermin. For the most part Sparky has been useless, she does not love me, but she doesn’t dislike me. She’s a typical cat with me, aloof and busy shedding. With Alexander it’s a completely different story, for Alexander Sparky is all purrs and snuggles, she’s the perfect pet.

Last night Sparky became my favorite too. Watch her at work, and you can look for a cameo of Mr G.

About 45 seconds in you’ll hear Mr G saying, “Jess you gotta do something about this.” Um, I did. I put it on YouTube. Is there soemthing else I’m supposed to do?

Cats, Dogs, Mice, Rats and Gottliebs


Last night we had a familiar issue.

It’s all fine and funny, because (as usual) I didn’t see the rat. Mr. G. did. Let’s face it, over and over again my husband is seeing rats scurrying into and out of the house.  I have seen just one, and it was very very dead.

My friend Emily is on her way in for a visit, and we had this little interaction.

See?! It’s all still a joke. I haven’t actually seen the rat. I’m delighted to tease Mr. G. a little bit, and ask how often he hallucinates.


I spent the early morning hours at PetCo and the grocery store buying food, litter, toys, and a litter box. Then I spent the later part of the morning at the animal shelter trying to hold back tears.

You see Mr. G. told me last night that he was going to come home from work today and see a cat in the house. I do not like cats. I do not like kittens. I do not enjoy animals as a rule. I like poodles, they’re like their own kind of animal, sort of needy and snooty all rolled into one lump of really smart dog.

Now I’m standing in the cat house at the local pound. There must be fifty kittens all cute and mewing. I hardly look at them. I can resist the kittens, right? I was going to go pet some cats, but I realized I needed a strategy. I was there to look only for female cats who were already spayed. I’d like to find one that’s under five years old. That leaves me just seven cats in the shelter.

I petted them all. They’re all sweet, they’re all cuddly (well, except one), and when it came time to make a decision I just pointed. I had to get out of the area. Between the cacophony of barking dogs, mewing cats and the unbearable stench of urine, I was totally overwhelmed and needed to run home.

As I bring the unnamed cat home and take her out of her carrier I decide to snuggle her into my neck. Because animals need snuggling, right?

I forgot (don’t ask me how) that cats hate dogs. Junior trotted into the room, four sets of claws shot into my neck and chest, and I tried with all my might to stay calm, all the while thinking to myself how the fuck did this become my life.

She’s cute, but she did pierce my skin. In about six places.

hired assasin

Dedicated Rat Killer (we hope)