One of the weird things I had to think about when I started doing geneology is that my family probably was an oppressor, if not of slaves, than of Native Americans/Indians. I had sort of absolved myself of that because I had been told that everyone in my family immigrated after 1900, but that was totally not true.

Although sort of weird that I was told that?

Well, take it back far enough, and the whole damn human race is just great-to-the-nth cousins.

No wonder we can't agree on anything.

"Mooom! Gnar is TOUCHING ME!"

"Don't make me put this travois down or I swear I will knock you both back into the Mesozoic."

Well, take it back far enough, and the whole damn human race is just great-to-the-nth cousins.

The differences in our genetic material from individual to individual is statistically insignificant. As far as stats are concerned we're all the same person.

So this was my morning adventure: load 3 cats into 3 carriers. Devi and MK in the soft carriers and Loki in the traditional hard carrier. Loop a soft carrier on each shoulder and pick up Loki's. Open door, exit, carefully set Loki down and lock the door.

Loki starts whirling around trying to get out. Pick up Loki's carrier and nearly am flung off the steps/break my wrist as he throws his weight from one end of the carrier to the other (he managed to scrape the end of his nose during this.)

Load and buckle Loki into the back seat, Devi on the passenger floor and MK buckled into the seat. I have some paranoia.

Spend the next 15 minutes serenaded with Devi's piteous self-centered (meemeeemeeMEEE) cries, punctuated by occasional rOWs from MK and Loki rattling the bars.

At the vet, Loki goes first for vitals and charms the tech. Then he proceeds to explore the entire room the rest of the time, including every cabinet, sink, up the pantleg of the tech....Then MK, who wanders aimlessly after and then poor, desperate Devi. Who spends the whole time trying to get onto my shoulders, which she then camps on from the time the tech is done until the vet comes in. Loki finds the paper towel dispenser and liberates a few sheets for shredding until I awkwardly crab over and relieve him of his toys.

At this point, I'm hunched over and Devi is sprawled across my back, so she goes next and then gets to the safety of her carrier. She's lost almost a lb since last year (now at 9.4lbs) but is still within normal, so it's just a keep an eye on thing and if she loses more, do bloodwork. She doesn't have any clinical signs of the usual suspects for a cat this age (thyroid/kidneys.) We'd only been in the new house a few months last visit, so might be she's just more active.

Loki is still exploring and has managed to turn on the sink and knock a bottle of lube into it. MK gets checked out, his weight is stable (9.11 lbs) and he's still being a miracle cat.

Finally Loki gets the once over. Toenails look fine, she's not worried about it. This "little man" as I often call him, is a whopping 14.1 lbs. It's actually down a little bit from last year, which she calls good, since he's a FATASS, even for a kitten.

He really doesn't want to go back in the carrier, wants to explore. He manages to climb into the cabinet holding the trashbin via the trashbin opening in the cabinet door. Yeah.

Tech helps me carry them all out, serenade resumes, bring them home at which point all want my attention and I'm trying to change into work clothes and get to work.

I need to get another soft carrier for Loki. I didn't put him in one that I have because he tried to shred it last time, but I don't like that he scraped his nose whirling to get out. Maybe one made with kevlar?

What did he scrape his nose on?

You are so much braver than I.

One of the weird things I had to think about when I started doing geneology is that my family probably was an oppressor, if not of slaves, than of Native Americans/Indians.

Considering the sheer number of people in each individual's ancestry, and how bloody minded people can be to each other, I don't think anybody can claim full freedom from being descended from some sort of an oppressor. You are not them. I am not my pirate ancestor, who cheerfully slaughtered Spaniards from religious motivation and Irish from financial motivation. Then there's Governor Endicott, who felt great satisfaction at shipping elderly Quakers off onto Long Island Sound in the middle of winter while preparing to sell their daughter off to slavery in the West Indies. They're illustrative examples, not role models. (Though I reserve the right to channel a bit of pirate if needs must.)

We're all related to Charlemagne (statistically). After 1000 years we have a trillion ancestors.

Inside of the carrier, perhaps one of the edges of the ventilation holes. He was really going nuts. He settled in the car fine. Rattling the bars, but that was not so much frantic as idle attempts to get out. He just curled up and would whack at the door.

It's just easier to do one trip rather than 2 or 3. And I get a multiple pet discount (I haven't seen that before, so I guess they kinda like scheduling them all in one go.)

The differences in our genetic material from individual to individual is statistically insignificant. As far as stats are concerned we're all the same person.

Because I'm in a pedantic mood, I will take issue with this. Statistical significance concerns the likelihood of a particular outcome being the result of random chance. It essentially is a comment about the deviation of a particular result, against the dispersion of possible results. However, you're talking about the degree of dispersion within the human population, rather than the deviation of a specific result.

You've actually made two somewhat different statements. The first is that the amount of genetic variation between humans is tiny compared to the total number of genes - which is true - and that the differences are immaterial (we're essentially the same person) - which is not entirely true, as - at the extreme - any number of genetically based diseases makes clear.

billytea, if you are now channeling some Dr Spencer Wells, I am going to have to insist that America needs you back for sheer awesomeness at some point.