I had decided that I would give the whack-ass rescue group until this morning to contact me, and then I would focus my energies elsewhere.
Guess who called me last night?
So tomorrow afternoon I will be traveling out to West F*cktard to look at a couple of cats*. Finally. I can only hope that this rescue group is not actually a front for an ax-wielding serial killer hillbilly, although I'm pretty sure I can rule that out, because a serial killer would be FAR MORE ORGANIZED than these dipshits are.
I don't really think anything is going to come of this, for various reasons, mainly because I have my doubts that any of these people could get their heads out of their asses long enough to actually complete an adoption, but, well .... open mind, and open heart, and I'm off to East Bumf*ck tomorrow.
I'll let you know what happens ...
*One of whom is reportedly six months old, and one of whom is reportedly one year old. Except you can add AT LEAST six months to both of those ages, because rescue people lie like rugs. And neither one of whom has been neutered yet, because ... what. the. f*ck. And one of them has an eye infection that the Pennsyltucky vet reportedly cannot figure out, because ... of course.