Posty Forty-Two.

And it's coming down to the final blogs. In just a half an hour, it'll be six o'clock and soon the sky will be blue again. We're almost there.

I hope everyone is staying awake and hanging in there. Almost, almost.

Post Forty-One.

Four more hours to go. As much as I'm looking forward to sleep, I'm pretty sad. I've been looking to the Blog-A-Thon since it ended last year. I know that as it gets later, it's harder and harder to actually form entries that deal with my charity. But I've been loyally browsing the ACA website for some interesting information to share with you, dear readers/sponsors/friends/family, and came across something...interesting, indeed:

"An overwhelming majority of U.S. animal control agencies and shelters keep a firm grip on outdated animal damage control laws and species-inappropriate policies that result in the killing of over 71 percent of all cats--pet, stray, and feral--that enter their facilities. Virtually every feral cat that animal control traps or that enters a shelter dies."

There is nothing more chilling than a statistic such as that. That is the backbone of this blog: Feral, Not Homeless. Feral doesn't mean homeless. Feral cats do not belong inside of a house because their home is outdoors. It's pretty scary, I think, how many beautiful animals suffer at the hand of man.

Post Forty!

Hi. My name is Lindsay. I need sleep.

But, I'm hanging on and having fun! It's already four-thirty. Soon, it'll be light outside again. It should be a piece of cake from here on out!

I'm pretty impressed with the fact that I laid off most of the sweets and caffeine products (I bought more Dr. Pepper than anyone should ever own, and only had a can and a half this whole time) and have been content with my watermelon slices and bottled water. Maybe that's the secret.

Post Thirty-Nine

So, I'm watching the local news -- and shivering, because Jagger and Aaron both stole the only available blankets and I can't bear to wake them up. Anyway, I'm watching the local news and there is a story about how this local pizza place donated 100% of their profits today to a foundation for this little boy who was recently burned when a plane crashed into his home. The little boy did die, and this happened just a few weeks ago, right down the street from where I live.

I wish I would have known this earlier, because I would have ordered our pizza from there instead of a totally random Pizza Hut. But it's nice to know that so many people showed up to eat pizza for a good cause. Charity is not dead!

Post Thirty-Eight

So, I've run out of exciting feral cat topics, stories, anecdotes. To tide you over, there is a picture of Jagger. She decided to sprawl out in front of me so that I could watch her sleep and know that I am unable to sleep until nine a.m.! I have to say, though -- I don't think I'm anywhere near exhausted yet. I remember last year being a lot worse by this time!

I'm kind of sad that the Blog-A-Thon ends at nine. Then, there's that entire year-long wait. I'm impatient.

By the way, I think I'm reaching that exhaustion point more and more with every word I type. Bad, bad, bad.

Game #8: I'm Wild!

The rules of the game were simple. So here is my favorite wild animal: the opossum!



No...really, I swear. ;)

Post Thirty-Seven

Okay. Got the computer problems tucked away and fixed. Thank goodness.

The above picture is of Odessa and Octavia. I've written about them much earlier, complete with super-cute photographs. They're such a goofy duo, those silly "we compliment one another but are so different" mother and daughter teams.

Jagger has flown off of the couch and over the coffee table, just missing the bottle of Perrier. That was a close call.