Normally, end of vacations are ruined by the simple fact that you have to return to work the next day. Knowing that you have to go back to the grind, deal with the drama, or other situations in which you feel that all your doing is banging your head on a wall, is all it takes to ruin that last moments of your vacation.
Others, like myself, come home to find a sick pet. I own a cat, Ms. Harriet. Aptly named, too. She's long haired . . . black . . . sheds so much she should be bald . . . getting the picture? I picked up my gate opener and spare key from my cat-sitter, who informed me that Ms. Harriet hadn't been eating much the last couple days. I start inwardly freaking out, thinking that it could be her mouth again (she had a dental two years ago - gum infection, had to pull two teeth). Come to find out, my poor kitty developed a large sore on her butt, and I nearly lost fingers by the time I reached that end to figure out what might be wrong. I dropped her off at the vet this morning, and hopefully they'll call soon with details as to what's wrong, what they'll do, and the most important part of all: how much this damn cat is gonna cost me this time? Although I have it on pretty good authority that my cat will come home with a shaved butt. And a cone around her head. And yes, I'm evil - pictures will follow.