There's still time to salvage my Sunday, you know in Fish On!

I woke up this morning feeling absolutely certain that something delightful would happen today. Well. Optimistic I might be, but precognitive I'm not.

The disaster in the kitchen was probably inevitable, because I've been letting the cats go too long between claw trimmings. I used to write notes to myself on the wall calendar about tasks like putting flea stuff on the dog and trimming the cats' claws, but then I started forgetting to look at the calendar. This is because I decided in a moment of thriftiness to use the free calendar from the local propane company instead of spending 10 or 15 dollars for one with pictures that I'd actually enjoy looking at.

I just now flipped the propane calendar to September, and you know what the picture for the month is? A cowboy. Specifically, a cowboy in chaps getting ready to mount a very startled-looking horse, and all I can think when I look at the picture is that this probably isn't going to end well for either the horse or the cowboy. Nor for me, because I'm unlikely to go near the calendar again until next month.

Anyway. Back to the disaster in the kitchen. Not having witnessed the actual event, I can only surmise from the carnage that one of the cats caught a claw in the little mat under the food and water dishes, then freaked out and dragged everything from one end of the kitchen to the other. There was kibble everywhere, a lake of water in the middle of the floor and, not surprisingly, two sets of cat tracks and a set of dog tracks leading out of the lake to various other parts of the house.

Now, you might think the mess wouldn't take too long to clean up, requiring just a little blotting and sweeping. But if you thought that, it was because you didn't take into account all the supervision I got from my feline and canine overlords, as well as the chain-reaction nature of such cleaning jobs. What truly doomed me was the discovery of the horrific condition of the kitchen baseboards that run under the lower cabinets. Oh my good god. When DID I last clean there? To be honest, I haven't the faintest idea. That's another task I no longer keep track of.

It's all because of that stupid free cowboy calendar. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Jeremy Wade, I'm not too proud to beg. I need that River Monsters calendar, and I need it bad. My desperation is such that you're now in an excellent position to negotiate your state of undress. Or mine, come to think of it. This might come as a shock, but I'm willing to put myself in a compromising position ... um, I mean, I'm willing to compromise, if that's what it takes.

And I absolutely will not say what I was just now thinking about "driving a hard bargain."