I just returned from the store with Boo, and I have something to say:

The following people are cordially invited to join the line to bite me, which forms to the right:

• The young couple who were making out in the greeting cards section.  Dude, you don’t need to get to second base next to the birthday cards.  
• The lady in the “Freddie Says Relax” tee shirt who chided me for correcting Boo when he smacked me next to the ice cream.
• The family who took 40 items to the “20 Items Or Less” aisle, used coupons, and then started yelling at the cashier in a language not normally used on this continent when she told them that half of the coupons were expired.
• The older lady who also brought 40 items to the “20 Items Or Less” aisle, but who used a check to pay and then took the time to balance her checkbook right then and there.
• The store manager who gave the cashier a dirty look when she started flirting with Boo at the checkout in order to keep him happy.  Remember, when the toddler’s happy, he’s quiet.
• The hipster douchebag who talked loudly about how children should be seen and not heard when I was playing with Boo and tickling him in line in order to keep him from getting bored and screeching. See above comment about toddler happiness.
• The man my age who told his children that he wasn’t going to waste money on books while he was in line to get cigarettes.
• The guy in the Mercedes station wagon who honked his horn and flipped me off because I had the audacity to be in the crosswalk back to the parking lot when he turned the corner and wanted to cruise past the front of the store.

Irish Woman, reading the new Kentucky hunting guide:  Says here you can’t bait bears in Kentucky.  Do they sell scents for bears like they do for deer?
DaddyBear:  I suppose so, dear.  Something like Bear in Estrus or something.
Irish Woman:  I don’t know that I’d scent myself up if I were hunting bear.   I wouldn’t want the bear to be able to find me so precisely.
DaddyBear:  Why not?
Irish Woman:  Because a bear is a much better predator than you are.  You cover yourself up in the scent of a female bear in heat, and the best case scenario is he kills you when he figures out you’re not that hot coed he was looking for.  Worst case scenario – he rapes you.
………..
DaddyBear:  Oh God!  My eyes!

Those of you who have read my brain droppings for a while know that we have a bit of a menagerie here.  We have two dogs, Bluegrass and Shadow.  We also have three cats:  Koshka, Annya, and Timmy.  Add to that a pond full of goldfish, numerous chipmunks and squirrels in the yard, and we’ve got quite a collection of non-simian mammals in the household.

This morning, I realized a member of our little group hadn’t been seen in a couple of days.  Koshka’s made a habit of running out whenever she can get us to open the door.  She got past me Thursday morning when I left for work, and that was the last anyone saw her.  Irish Woman and I mentioned it to each other last night, and we realized that neither of had seen her.

I went for a quick walk around the yard to see if she’d come to me, but no luck.  This morning, I searched the neighborhood, but still didn’t see her.  Calls to animal control were less than helpful.  Irish Woman checked with all the neighbors, but they hadn’t seen her.

We were worried about her because it’s been hot as the knobs of hell lately, and she’s basically a house cat.  Add to that our location near several large streets and the propensity of some of our neighbor kids to be cruel to stray cats, and we were concerned.

We had decided that if she didn’t show up by Tuesday morning we’d go to animal control in person and see if she’d been picked up.

As I was doing some maintenance on the weed trimmer this evening, Irish Woman spotted Koshka coming up the street like her hair was on fire.  She came up the driveway when she heard us call her, but hid out under the truck.  I crawled under, got her out, and brought her in the house.  She immediately hid in the basement, where we can hear her giving the other cats and the dogs three rations of hell.

I keep her vaccinations and flea repellent up to date, but I’m going to have to keep her in.  Two nights out is too much.  I’m glad she came home, but I could beat her for making me think of how I was going to tell Girlie Bear her cat had run away.

Here in the U.S., we are preparing for the anniversary of the September 11th attacks.  But we are not alone in remembering savagery against innocents this week.  In Russia, families are remembering the hundreds who died at Beslan.

C.J. Chivers over at Esquire did an excellent write-up of the attack back in 2006.  It goes beyond the dry facts to show the small, heroic acts by ordinary people that saved lives.  Every person who thinks about personal security and the lengths that barbarians will go to in order to incite terror should read it.

As a parent, I cannot imagine the shock and anguish of knowing that no matter what you did, your children were probably going to die.  I also dread the thought that our schools are just as wide open and unprotected.

For my friends in Russia, I remember the innocents of Beslan.  They were not soldiers, they were not politicians, they were school-children, parents, and teachers.  I hope that your leaders have learned from the experience, and I hope that my leaders at least think about the possibility of something similar happening here.