Shopping Tips and Guidance by Mandy Claire

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," dedicated to the proposition that no human makes it through life without being somehow annoyed by something inconsequential.

If you know someone who has never been annoyed, I sure would like to meet that person. The first thing I would do is try my damnedest to annoy. Sour grapes and all that, don't you know.

Tonight was the first meeting in a dreary round of night classes that will stretch all the way to June ... and include six Saturdays as well. Returning as our teacher is the infamous Mr. Bigwand, who has lost none of his power to pontificate due to holiday revelry.

Those of you just joining "The Gods Are Bored" need a little back story. Mr. Bigwand is a retired teacher of Advanced Placement history classes at a posh suburban school. He has been hired to teach people like me (not formally trained as teachers) who are employed by urban districts struggling to meet state standards. In other words, he knows not of what he speaks ... and speaks ... and speaks...

I didn't like Mr. Bigwand from the evening of his first sermon back in September. But he sealed his fate when, the Wednesday before Halloween, he bragged for 15 minutes about terrifying little kids with expensive, theatrical-grade horror masks. Apparently this is his favorite Halloween activity.

Tonight Mr. Bigwand waxed eloquent about the fact that "gremlins" have stolen his cell phone. Worse, they also walked off with five tickets to Wing Bowl, Philadelphia's most toxic annual show of moronic slobbery.

It was all I could do not to fall from my undersized Catholic school right-handed desk.

Our house furnace is broken, but I'm toasty warm thinking about Mr. Bigwand having to buy five more tickets to Wing Bowl. He also has to buy a new phone. Did the faeries ... errrr ... gremlins do this?

Well, we can rule out faeries. No faerie of any stripe would attend Wing Bowl. It's disgusting. And since gremlins rather enjoy watching big, mean men scare cute little toddlers, I think I will point the accusatory digit at the gremlins.

Good job, gremlins!

During this term I will be expected to conduct a 15-minute class for adults, complete with lesson plan. I can choose my topic. Of course at first I thought I would give a class on faeries. Then I thought twice. Fifteen minutes is hardly enough time to do justice to faeries.

I have fallen back on Plan B, which will be a snap to do, won't require any research, and will only demand a minimal outlay of cash.

Ladies and gentlemen (Bigwand's favorite phrase ad nauseum), I will conduct a lesson on the acquisition, care, maintenance, and relinquishment of foster kittens. I'll have them weeping in the aisles!

Wait a minute. Maybe I should give a presentation on the East Coast Vulture Festival! Drum up some business for a worthy event!

No, scratch that. The thought of seeing Mr. Bigwand at Buzzard Day is not appealing.

Cute little kittens it is.

Welcome to "The Gods are Bored," honoring Isis and Osiris through kitten care since 2003! I won't get a pyramid over my bones, or pots of honey and such, but those Egyptian deities are going to roll out the old welcome mat to yours truly anyway! Why, even as I type this I must stop every other word and stroke two tired kittens. Who will shortly be under a lit-up pine tree, waiting for the embrace of a sweet little girl I'll never even meet.

Say what you want about meditation, sweat lodges, magick, prayer, you name it. In my book, a gal who's putting in 60-75 hour work weeks who can still care for motherless kittens is performing an act of worship. (*TOOT TOOT!* That's me blowing my own damn horn.)

Here's a little crash course on foster kitten care.

Kitten Care 101

1. Kittens live in a rabbit hutch.

2. Kittens must stay in the rabbit hutch while humans are not watching them.

3. Contents of hutch as follows: blanket or cat bed, cat box, cat food.

4. If kittens are removed from the hutch for playtime, the cat box should be removed too. That way they can use it.

5. If kittens are placed back into the hutch for safekeeping during a long day when people aren't around, the cat box should be placed back into the hutch with them.

6. If the cat box stays outside the hutch while the kittens are locked into the hutch, things get messy.

7. So, always keep the cat box and the kittens in the same convenient location.


It usually doesn't matter to me whether or not my husband and daughter read my blog. Tonight I rather hope they will.

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," offering a full slate of services to discarded deities, including career counseling, emergency praise and worship, and our ever-popular "follower finder" option! Please contact us for all of your deity needs! Our operators are standing by to take your call.

About ten days ago, my friend Nettle left a message on her Facebook inquiring about a ride to Pennsauken. She said she needed to go to an animal shelter there to see a dog that was up for adoption.

Thus began a faerie-guided adventure.

Turns out (no coincidences with the fae, remember) that the shelter Nettle wanted to go to was the one where I volunteer. Sunday last, I picked Nettle up at the El stop in my town, and she, Spare and I rode over to the shelter.

Nettle tried several dogs on for size. There was "Badger," a white showy sort, brimming with personality and vigor ... and highly sought after by other potential adoptive families. Then there was "Cara." Shy. Great big, scared eyes. Cross between a pug and a chihuahua -- so, essentially the size of a cat.

I rooted for "Cara" from the beginning, because she seemed like the kind of dog who could languish in a shelter for months because it was difficult to get a read on her personality. I just had a feeling, though, that "Cara" was a good fit for Nettle.

I suppose the faeries felt the same way, because last Wednesday Nettle adopted "Cara," and yesterday Spare and I helped Nettle take "Cara" to her new home -- Philadelphia!

"Cara's" history indicates that she was transported north from South Carolina. Talk about culture shock! From Dixie to Philly in just five months ... via scenic Pennsauken, New Jersey!

After we finished filling out the paperwork on "Cara," we took her to the car for her journey out of Jersey and across the bridge to the City of Buzzardly Love. That little charmer just sat on Nettle's lap and gazed out the window with an adorable curiosity. Then she got tired and settled in for a snooze. From the first moment "Cara" seemed totally at home with her new person.

I tried to give "Cara" a crash course on living in Philly, but she didn't seem to understand when I told her to say "Boooooooooo" and "Dallas sucks," and the ever-popular "Yankees suck."

The sun was setting when we drove up Market Street past Drexel University. I said to "Cara": "Well, doggie, this is symbolic, you see. The sun is setting on your previous life, and tomorrow it will rise on a whole new era for you."

Sure enough, this morning it is perfectly beautiful here in the Delaware Valley. Not a cloud in the sky!

I feel blessed to have helped a dog find a home. This was a new experience for me. All of my experience of the Almost Home shelter is kitten-fostering. Bring them home, pamper them, take them back. It was refreshing to see how careful the staff at Almost Home is about choosing good owners for deserving pets. My kittens must all get good families as well.

Speaking of kittens. This is where the faeries really went into overdrive.

While I was waiting for Nettle to finalize her adoption of "Cara," I had to ask. I just had to ask.

Any "hissie spitties" in the cat room?

Oh yes. Four weeks old. And the staff was worried that they might get sick from being around the other cats. Would I take them?

So in addition to bringing Nettle's dog home to Philly yesterday, Spare and I took possession of two semi-tame, fluffy kittens named Reba and Ramsey. The idea is to keep them away from the sick cats until they're eight weeks old, which will be just about ... Yuletide.

I'm leaving it up to the faeries to alert the Yule elves that two kittens will be ready for delivery on December 24.

Is it any wonder that Spare and I broke our pact not to mention "that holiday" and drove home from Philly yesterday singing festive songs of a certain season?

What a happy day! Love is in the air.