The whole dryer situation has me a bit overwhelmed right now. The washer and dryer aren't a luxury for us. They really are a necessity. We have 4 kids & 4 pets. We need a working washer and dryer.
I mentioned the 4 pets on twitter and that was a smack in the face. FOUR pets? When in the world did my house turn into a zoo? Well, one could argue that it always was.
When I remember how each of our fuzzy children found us, it doesn't seem quite so overwhelming. When you shove them all together and count them, though, yeah, that'll shock ya. That will probably injure you too since they don't get along together in a group setting. Yeah, that's putting it mildly.
Cat1 & Funnel Face were shelter rescues. We were newly married when we adopted Cat1 as a companion for a cat I brought into the marriage (who was the most wonderful pet in the world and has since passed away). Problem was, MyCat hated Cat1 with a passion. So, for dh's birthday the following year, we adopted teeny tiny Funnel Face as a companion for Cat1. They got along wonderfully.
Okay 2 cats. That's not bad. 2 cats isn't an insane number of animals.
Then we adopted a dog. The Nutless Wonder is a consequence of the "war" in Iraq. He was about 6 months old when his owner (a friend of dh's) was sent to Iraq. Unable to care for the dog, he gave him to us. This dog has given our family the gift of countless hours (and therefore posts) of funny dog-related comments.
2 cats and a dog is starting to be a bit much, but still within reason, isn't it? Particularly given the manner in which said dog found his way to our family.
The 4th addition to our family is PresidentCat. He is my sister's fault. Her husband drove home from work one evening and heard a baby crying. After some searching, they found that baby was actually an approximately 4 week old kitten that had ridden home in his engine. How he survived, I know not. Upon washing off the filth, my sister found the kitten looked similar to the then departed MyCat. The sister played foster mom for a short while and then he came to live with us. He is not my cat. He is my daughters' cat. He adores them and only them. He tollerates the rest of us.
When you look at them each individually and see how they came to us, it seems bearable. When you look at them en mass, though (and the havok they wreak in the process), it's almost enough to make you run screaming. Then again, maybe that's just me.