If a Tree Falls In The Forest, Will Stu Still Have a Home?

I'm so confused. I was driving to work today and passed a sign by Blockbuster that said, "Please don't feed the landfill." Two weeks ago, I passed a garbage truck with "Waste management landfills provide more than 17,000 acres of protected habitat for wildlife" splashed broadside. So do we feed the landfills or not? Come on, folks, make up my mind.

I've decided to rename the kitty Addy (the feline one, monkeyboy). It would be pronounced Addy but spelled ADHD cuz that's what he is. This cat is seriously attention-deficit to the G(oodbar) degree. He travels nonstop at the speed of light, changing direction midstream to go with his changing thought. He shoots across the room to his food, then back to his cubby, then under the bed, then on top of the bed, then behind the plants, behind the couch, behind the curtains.

Sable, bless her doggy soul, tries to keep up, but loses traction going around corners; she slid halfway across the kitchen floor earlier this week...

Sable loves the kitty and the kitty is slowly learning to love Sable. He laid down next to her this a.m., batted Sable's nose a few times, then dashed from the room. His sudden disappearance startled Sable so much she farted.

Stu-the-banished-chipmunk is much less happy than Sable and beastie-boy. How do I know? Cuz he makes angry little chipmunk sounds when I drive my car. How can I possibly hear him when I am driving my car? Because he is living in the heater vent. How do I know he is living in the heater vent? BECAUSE HE MAKES ANGRY LITTLE CHIPMUNK SOUNDS WHEN I DRIVE MY CAR.

Here's the thing - I get that he is feeling a bit displaced. Stu thought he had a sweet gig behind the microwave. He was so happy, munchin' on skittles and cheesebread. But, I had to evict him, I had to! If something is gonna get tangled in my hair, I would prefer it be Guy, NOT a flea-bitten kissing-cousin-to-a-squirrel. Stu had to go.

And now he has taken up residence in my car. Oh, this is soooooooo much better. Instead of my being able to jump up and run screaming through my 1900 sq. ft house when he pops out of nowhere, I'm going to be trapped in a 50 sq ft moving metal box when he decides to pop his little rodent head out from under the dashboard and rest it on my knee. Cool.

One of life's little ironies, no? I mean, here I am conscientiously doing my part to feed the landfill so Waste Management can continue to provide homes to all the chipmunks and seagulls in the Pacific Northwest, and Stu wants to live in a Lexus! That is sooooooo...not green.