Hurry, quick. . . or you'll miss it

Our house was clean for about 30 minutes this morning when the realtor and her office buddies made their sweep through. If you didn't stop by, you missed your chance at seeing our house in "show" condition. By now I am sure it's coated in cat hair,

The good news: the realtor thinks it went well.

The bad news: I had to call prior to her visit to let her know that we weren't able to get one of the cats into a carrier and to the car. Izzie, of course, was a ball of fight. I had left Cynical in charge of cat wrangling. When I called to check in, he said she wasn't cooperating. When I went to assist, I found her perched atop once-cat-hair-free pillows on my freshly made, crisp bedding. I could see "bring it on" in her eyes, but I didn't heed the warning. I made my own attempt at cramming her in the carrier. Afterward I called the agent, broke the news that a very angry cat was still in the house and to beware. I count myself lucky, Cynical had to drive around town with three bellowing cats for over an hour. No body was happy.