Poo Happens

I caught another cat. Number 7.5 to be precise. I didn't get to take a picture of it but it looked like a cat and definitely smelled like one, too.
The beasts above were numbers three (a.k.a. "Tipsy," and yes, I am aware that it is tagged. Tipsy was unfortunately picked up by its owner and has been recently seen in my yard again. I have a feeling that it will soon become catch number eight) and four. I personally didn't haul away one and two (the good for nothing shelter actually came and picked them up...after much pleading, begging and cursing). And I'm not sure where my picture of five went. And six...well six got away because the shelter didn't pick it up like they said they would, so that's where the .5 comes into play.
Today's catch came complete with yelling and feces being thrown about. That's right, and in my car, too. I'm sure you can imagine how lovely the smell ride to the shelter was. It involved very loud music and both the cat and I screaming at each other.
Anyway, after the wonderful journey to the shelter I arrived at my office to find this on my desk:



My sister seems to think that I've upset the universe and now the mice are coming after me. I would think that they would be eternally grateful since I am depleting the number of their enemies (at least in my neighborhood...for now. :))

The poo has hit the fan. In more ways than one.