Just finished The Folk of the Fringe by Orson Scott Card, an anthology of post-apocalyptic short stories. I am now suffering from a massive overdose of folksy Mormon-flavoured religion. Sure, I anticipated that a bit, but not the constant hammering of the 200% pure thoughts of Saints and Angels.
Tomorrow it is Husband's unfortunate duty to capture, box, transfer and hold each of the cats whilst they receive some attention from the local V. E. T.