I was procrastinating on my midterm paper, and then my dog started freaking out. He freaks out when anyone so much as opens their car door, so I didn't think it was a big deal, buuuut it was 2:30 and he kept barking. So I looked out the window and saw four coyotes on the lawn, standing over something.
I fucking sprint down the stairs, obviously, aaaaand it turns out they were over Maya. She is, for the record, the first cat that was ever solely mine, the first cat I ever picked out, and my fucking baby. They bolted as soon as I came near them, then she crawled under the car and wouldn't come out.
Long story short, I get her out, Mom and I bring her to the emergency vet (just as it starts raining in my car with the shot breaks, fun). She's just about stable right now. They'll tell us if we can transfer her to the regular vet in the morning.
Just. jesus. I don't even know. I'm still in shock, I think. She was near the edge of the lawn, which means she attacked the coyotes first, which is totally fucking typical of the little bitch. One cat, four coyotes, THEY NEVER SAW WHAT HIT THEM.
I'm skipping class tomorrow, obviously. My comparative religions prof only allows two absences and this'll be my third, so, uh, I hope he's got some shred of compassion. Aaand my goddamn midterm paper's due, but I couldn't care less right now.
The dog gets a fucking bucket of milk bones, man. A. Fucking. Bucket.