I have acquired a copy of the critically acclaimed Turkish documentary Kedi ("Cat"), about the lives of street cats in Istanbul.

Said lives are apparently pretty cushy -- Istanbul is famously cat-friendly -- but I still don't think I'll be able to watch it until my general Cat Anxiety Level settles down.

Fuckin' Bast, last night there was a horrible yowl followed by some faint Sad Cat Noises and I've been fretting ever since that somebody's not going to show up again. That's probably a ridiculous fear, over what was probably a two-second non-injurious cat squabble. But that's my life right now.

On the other hand, my life is also about 20-minute scritching and petting sessions, and that SQUINT OF LOVE they give you when you scritch their throats just right, and cat-fishing derbies with the Jingly Man, so I don't think I'd trade it. Even if those little bastards are going to break my heart someday for sure.

I mean, I know for sure I'm gonna get it broken a little in around five weeks, when we adopt Liv and Snowy out. I look forward to having my office/study back but I bet I'm gonna cry a bit when they're gone. I really hope we can stay in touch with whoever adopts them, maybe visit.

Anyhow. Yeah. Apparently, there's a recurring theme in Kedi of "taking care of homeless cats gave me a sense of redemption when I really needed that." And yeah. Now I get it. I kinda really needed it too. Even if we fuck something up or lose a friend someday, those cats have better lives than they would have.

I hope that doesn't come off as conceited. Honestly, taking care of these cats has not technically been that hard; every human parent on earth is a fucking legend compared to us. But after bombing out in Seattle and feeking like a pariah, yeah, taking care of these guys and not feeling like I'm totally blowing it *is* redemptive I REALLY NEEDED THAT.