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8/31/10 – Tuesday

by @ Tuesday, August 31st, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

Several weeks ago, I cleaned out and straightened up the garage. We’d bought some shelving units at Lowe’s a few weeks previous to that to help out with the organizing of the garage, and I finally got them put together and put in place and the garage looked pretty damn good.

There was even room in the garage for my car, but rather than actually parking in the garage, I kept parking in front of the garage. It was just so handy to be able to toss stuff in that nice open space of the garage rather than deal with it immediately, you know?

Finally, this past weekend Fred decided it was time to just get my damn car in the garage, and he went out and moved stuff and rearranged, and before I knew it, my car was parked in the garage.

And how many times in the past two days do you suppose I’ve glanced out the window toward the garage and had my heart skip a beat when I realized my car wasn’t there (“MY CAR IS STOLEN!”) and then for a brief moment I’m caught up in the excitement (“I COULD GET A HYBRID!”) before I remember what’s going on (“Oh, right. In the garage. Duh.”)? Approximately one million and thirty times, that little sequence of stupidity has taken place.

 

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Fred, as you guys know, is a computer programmer. He loves – LOVESLOVESLOVES – the work he’s doing right now, and he comes home all filled with excitement about the work he’s doing. He goes on at length about this thing or that thing, and honestly it really goes right over my head. I understand the broad strokes of what he’s doing, but as for the details, despite many hours of listening (pretending to listen), it’s neither interesting nor exciting to me.

Look, he KNOWS I don’t really get the details of what he’s doing, but I’m pretty sure he appreciates my pretending to listen and understand what he’s talking about, just like I appreciate it when he pretends to listen to me yammer on about the cats. Marriage is give and take, y’know, and pretending to listen to his shit so that he’ll pretend to listen to my shit is a pretty good trade-off as far as I’m concerned.

I have picked up two words in the course of “listening” to him talk about the vastly fascinating details of coding, and they are words that amuse me, so when he’s been going on for a long time and I haven’t contributed anything to the conversation, I use them.

He’ll be going on, all “Blah blah this” and “blah blah that”, and I hold up my hand to stem the tide of words, and I give him a very serious and concerned look.

“But is it ROBUST?” I ask him. “And more importantly, is it ELEGANT?”

I don’t know why, but using the words “robust” and “elegant” to describe code makes this know-nothing crack UP.

 

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Okay, take a deep breath. Take my hand. We’ll get through this together, I promise.

Bolitar and Rhyme are off to the adoption center later today. Room has come available, and it’s time for the first two to go. I know, I know. I don’t want them to go, either. But it’s time. Don’t think of this as a sad time – think of it as a happy time! They’re going off to find their forever homes!

(Don’t think I won’t be crying like a great big baby when I leave them there.)


Bolitar and Corbett get in some snuggling.


Something does not agree with Reacher, it appears.


Oh, they just drive me NUTS when they do this. Just stroooooll out there like they’re supposed to be out there! Roll around on the concrete, chew some grass, and give me the looks like “What?”


Rhyme spies a chicken through the fence.


I don’t even remember what was going on here, but Rhyme, up in the air, makes me laugh and laugh.

 

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Marty loves chewing on a good straw.


Miss Melodie, relaxing.


Note, please, that Martin does not seem to be too impressed by Melodie’s foot defense action, here.

 

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Pretty Sheriff Mama takes a moment to relax.

 

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Previously
2009: Thank god for patient geeks who put up with difficult women.
2008: No entry.
2007: I don’t get the Winehouse lurve, but y’all just rock on with your bad selves, I s’pose.
2006: That part where McMurphy is trying to take off her scrubs and the back of her shirt is glued to her back with dried blood brings me to tears every single time I watch it.
2005: Is it just me, or does Eric Schaeffer play an inordinant number of characters named Sam?
2004: My day, in progress.
2003: This entry is comprised of nothing but cat pictures, because I’m clearing off the memory stick to start September fresh, with an empty memory stick.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: He said “Maybe you’re losing slower than me because you BELIEVE you’ll lose slower than me!”

8/30/10 – Monday

by @ Monday, August 30th, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

So the doctor’s office finally called Friday afternoon with the results from my lab tests from Monday, and from my blood test on Thursday (to check my potassium level). My potassium was improved but still low, so she prescribed another round of potassium supplements.

The labs showed that I do NOT have worms or giardia or coccidia, thank you very much for those of you who guessed that (Fred was predicting giardia), but that there were a whole load of white blood cells present in, y’know. The items. That I dropped off. At the lab. For testing. Don’t make me say it, we don’t need to be talking in detail about that stuff so early in the morning, so early in the week, right?

The nurse asked if things were improved, and I told her “improved some, but not all the way”, and she conferred with the doctor, who put me on an antibiotic and wants the nurse to schedule me with a gastroenterologist. The nurse should be calling today to make those arrangements.

Saturday morning, late, I picked up my antibiotic and potassium supplements, and I took my first antibiotic Saturday night.

“This might make you just a wee bit dizzy,” the label warned me.

Well. That antibiotic didn’t make me dizzy – it knocked me for a fucking loop. We sat down to watch TV around 5:30 that evening, and I stayed awake during the first show, but I dozed through about half the second show. Then we got Clash of the Titans on Pay Per View, and I was maybe awake for ten minutes total of the movie. I’d wake up, squint at the screen, and Fred would say “You’re going to be up all night!” and I’d grunt and shift around a little, and go back to sleep.

When the movie was over, we did our usual bedtime stuff downstairs, then went upstairs and hung out with the kittens, and we went to bed to talk – as we do every night – and I could barely keep my eyes open. Fred went off to his room after about ten minutes, and I fell asleep and slept like a baby through the night.

My Sunday morning dose of the antibiotic still didn’t make me dizzy, but it gave me a bit of a buzz. I swear to god, I’ve never had antibiotics have this sort of effect on me, but it’s a pretty strong one that I’m pretty sure I’ve never taken before. (Do you note that I’m not telling y’all exactly which antibiotic it is so you can’t tell me I shouldn’t be taking it because your cousin’s husband’s sister’s friend’s nephew took that exact antibiotic and died the next day? Let’s just say that if I get a case of anthrax in the next week, I should be all set.) I double-checked the informational sheet I got with the antibiotic, and one of the cautionary points it lists is “if dizziness occurs, drive with caution.”

You’d think they’d tell me not to drive at all, wouldn’t you?

The biggest pain in the ass with this antibiotic is that I can’t take a multi-vitamin or iron 6 hours before or 2 hours after I take the antibiotic, so there’s this whole thing where I take the antibiotic, set the timer for 2 hours so I can take my multi-vitamins and such. Then set the timer for 6 hours so I know when it’s safe to take my evening antibiotic, then another 2 hours before I can take my evening probiotic and magnesium.

Today, two weeks after the first onset of the symptoms of whatever the fuck I had, I feel just about 100% better (if a little bit buzzed from the antibiotic). In total, I lost 16 pounds at my lowest point, and I’ve gained back 10 pounds since the middle of last week. Thursday I ate, in total, one bagel and two cups of Gatorade, and the next morning I was up three pounds. I know it’s all water weight, and I know I’m going to gain back to my starting point and I’m okay with that, but it is still MADDENING to gain three pounds on a bagel and some Gatorade.

I still haven’t gone back to Diet Coke yet. Not that I don’t want to – believe me, I do! – but another of the cautionary points on the sheet of information I got with the antibiotic is that I should avoid caffeine. I’m doing okay with water and Gatorade and the occasional cup of orange juice for now, so I guess I can wait.

Stay alive, my beloved Diet Coke! You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.

 

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The MMMs and Dodger will probably be going this week to be spayed and neutered. Actually, Moxie’s already spayed, so just Melodie, Martin, and Dodger need to be done. They’ve all been well over two pounds for more than a few weeks, but there’s no rush due to the slowdown of adoptions, so I decided it wouldn’t hurt to wait.

They’re having a good time with the run of the upstairs. Most of the time when I go up to hang out with them, they’re in various places in my room. Martin and Moxie really like to hang out on my bed, Dodger likes the little kitty condo near my bed, and usually Melodie goes running when she hears me coming up the stairs, but comes out pretty quickly from her hiding place in the bathroom.


Moxie in the window.


I think maybe her eye color changes with her moods. Sometimes they look this pretty golden brownish color, and other times they’re gorgeously orange.


Martin and Melodie battle it out.

 

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The Bookworms were hanging out in the back yard with me. Suddenly, the meter reader went tromping through the side yard and scared the heck out of them. Bolitar went and hid beside the steps and kept an eye on him.


SOMEONE’s super-annoyed by the fact that he was trying to sneak out the door and found that I was already out there, yelling at him to get his butt back inside.


“What? I’m trying to fold this laundry, lady.”

 

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Spanky’s already annoyed by me and the camera, and I’ve only taken one picture of him!

 

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Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Jessica Simpson, if I want to see you doing the Tush Push for an entire song, I will go out and buy Nick & Jessica porn that your father will SURELY be flogging any day now.
2004: “SOMEWHERE WHERE I CAN GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE SOUND OF THAT TELEVISION!” I bellowed.
2003: Sometimes.
2002: Basically, I’m just a freak.
2001: Now I’ll never know if Lance was going to put the moves on me!
2000: Insects are invading our house at an alarming rate.

8/27/10 – Friday

by @ Friday, August 27th, 2010. Filed under CAE, Fostering, Life

I watched The Back-Up Plan yesterday. It was a cute movie, I usually like Jennifer Lopez’s movies well enough. I only snoozed for about 10 minutes, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss any key plot points (really, with your average romantic comedy, you could probably snooze through 75% of it and not miss much). The reason I bring it up is because there was this French Bulldog Boston Terrier in the movie who was OH MY GOD SO CUTE.

I don’t ever want a house dog, but if I did? I’d want one like that. The EYES on that cute little guy, good lord.

 

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Robyn, about how often do you have to vacuum your icebox coils? I have one fairly furry pup and I have to do mine every two months (could probably get away with every three).

Devil, how much do I love you for assuming I ever vacuum my icebox coils? SO MUCH. They get vacuumed every time the fridge needs to be pulled out for something else (cat toy check, defrosting the fridge, checking to see if something we’re missing is back there), so I’d guess maybe twice a year? Though now that I think about it, if I vacuumed them more often, maybe we’d need to defrost the freezer less often – every now and then the ice maker gets all jammed up and starts producing hollow ice cubes, which is our cue to empty everything out of the freezer and fridge, pull it out, unplug it, let everything thaw, clean it out, plug it back in, and shove it back in place. We do not have the best fridge in the world, as you may have guessed, but it was the only one that would fit in the designated spot.

 

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I didn’t realize you were back on the Diet Coke. I thought that was a no no.

I know I’ve written about this in the past, and I’d put up the SKIMMER! pic, but I can’t find where I’ve written about it, so

WAIT. I found it!

skimmers

I last wrote about it back in March, here.

(You guys know I’m just teasing with the skimmer picture and accusations, right? I can barely keep track of all the details of my own life, I certainly don’t expect y’all to!)

 

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In case you have not seen this:

The most inefficient drinker in the cat kingdom.

Oh, I’ve seen it – I just forgot to share it with y’all. The look on that cat’s face cracks me UP. He’s so serious! He’s like “By GOD, I will figure this out if it kills me!”

 

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I have newly installed wood floors in my house and that includes the kitty room. I have large litterbox mats in front of the boxes, but litter is getting tracked everywhere. Any suggestions as I see you have hard wood floors also.

Most of my litter boxes are big buckets from Lowe’s with holes cut in the front as an entrance/ exit. I use big boot trays (I got mine online, but you can find them at Lowe’s. You can probably also find them at Walmart.) as litter catchers, and I turn the litter boxes (buckets) with the entrance/ exit toward the wall. That helps some, but honestly, I find that on the days I don’t vacuum, a quick sweep with the broom around the litter boxes helps keep things under control.

I think someone recommended the Roomba. I have one, but I rarely use it. We have area rugs throughout the house, and while the Roomba does a pretty good job on the hardwood floors, it tends to leave clumps of cat hair behind on the rugs. I find it easier to just vacuum myself.

Anyone out there have more suggestions for how to keep the litter scatter under control on a hardwood floor? We’re all ears!

 

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Do Maxi and Newt stay out at night even when it gets cold?

They like the cool nights of Fall, but when it gets seriously cold (I know, those of you who suffer through winters at below-zero temperatures are scoffing at the idea that it ever gets “seriously” cold in Alabama!) they come inside overnight. Actually, during the coldest part of the winter, Newt’s just as happy to stay inside 24/7. Maxi’s really more of an outdoors girl, and she doesn’t like the large number of kittens who are always running around here, so she’ll go outside during the day then come in for the night.

 

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Do you have any news on your recent fosters like, have they been adopted yet or what? A couple went through so fast recently I hardly got a chance to know them.

As of this moment, all my previous fosters except Pancho have been adopted. There was a time there when it seemed like the Rescuees were on a merry-go-round because three of them were adopted and then returned (Franco and Garrity because one of the girls who adopted them was allergic, and Lieu because the lady who adopted him decided she wasn’t ready), but it’s been a good few weeks since the last Rescuee was adopted, so I’m tentatively going to say that those adoptions are going to “stick.”

It depends on how adoptions go at the adoption center, but at this point the Bookworms are next in line to go, it’s only a matter of space opening up.

 

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Sweet Miss Melodie.


Every mancat needs some pink floof in his life.


She swats! She… misses!


Leaning tower of Melodie.

 

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Bad boys, bad boys. Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they sneak outside and then totally act like they’re allowed out there and what’s YOUR problem anyway, lady?

(You’re gonna grab the camera, is what you’re gonna do.)


“What?”


Bad bad Buster Brown. He’s the baddest cat in the whole damn town. Well, the whole back yard, anyway. (“Buster” is Bolitar’s nickname, I’m sure I’ve mentioned.)


Corbett, clearly miserable.

 

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“Y’all get your butts back inside that house! You know you’re not allowed out here, and I’m not putting up with your zany shenanigans! Chasing each other all over the yard! Rolling around on the concrete pad! Eating grass! Sheriff Mama won’t have it, you hear me?”

 

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Previously
2009: “But… I don’t WANNA go be tutored and have my eyeballs messed with!”
2008: “Huh” is very versatile, no?
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I think our cats are as antisocial as we are.
2003: Damn PMS Fairy.
2002: You know, I don’t believe that once you become a parent, every bit of you has to be absorbed into that role.
2001: Dumbass, thy name is Robyn.
2000: No entry.

8/26/10 – Crooked Acres (movie) Thursday

by @ Thursday, August 26th, 2010. Filed under Crooked Acres, Fostering, Life

Things may be improving, physically, though I’m hesitant to declare myself over this nonsense because I’m sure as soon as I do, I’ll collapse from a brain aneurysm or something. At least the weight loss has not only stopped, but I gained a little weight yesterday. Fingers crossed!

 

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I have no Crooked Acres pictures for you today, but I pulled a couple of old videos off my Flip video for your viewing pleasure. They’re nothing amazing, but they’ll have to do for this week.

First, Gracie keeps an eye on Fred, who (off-camera) is using the torch to burn weeds around the fenceline.

The next is from the end of May. We went out to give the pigs their evening cookies, and I had the Flip video with me. The pigs are, needless to say, much bigger these days. I should take the camera out to get another movie of them at the size they are now.

And lastly, I wanted to make a movie of all the cats coming through the cat door at snack time, after I did my “Whoooooo’s ready for the snackin’?!” call. Oh, it was going to be SO cute, with one cat coming in after another and running past the camera to the kitchen for their snack. SO CUTE.

It didn’t quite work out that way when Corbett ran out the door.

 

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Oh Elwood, you MONSTER, must you lick ALL the Bookworms to death?


Pretty Corbett in the sun.

This is what I love about Corbett: I give all the cats a snack in the mid-afternoon (Snackin’! Time! was cancelled for a little while because I got tired of dealing with all the mess and confusion. I found that when I moved it back a few hours so that it was NOT centered around our dinnertime, life got a whole lot easier.) The Bookworms get their snack in the guest bedroom because otherwise Jake and Elwood would move in on their snacks and Hoover them up. So the Bookworms know to follow me into the guest bedroom and wait while I divide up their snacks on four plates. Then I put the plates on the floor, and when I leave the room, I shut the door so that none of the big cats can go in there. Then I give the rest of the cats THEIR snack, and I wait about five minutes, then open the guest bedroom door so that the Bookworms can come out.

Every single time, Reacher, Rhyme and Bolitar are clamoring at the door to come out. But Corbett is curled up in a cat bed on the bed. And he always looks at me, surprised, like he’s saying “We can come out? I thought it was night-night time!” Every time. How I have not squeezed the stuffing out of that boy, I do not know.


The Bookworms, Jake, and a sliver of Miz Poo over there to the side.


Bookworms in the sun.

 

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Apparently, pink really brings out the gorgeous color in miss Moxie’s eyes.


“I find this toy tasty. Two paws up!”


NOM.


They were laying there playing with each others’ tails. Too cute.

 

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Coltrane, looking guilty. (The sound of the camera was freaking him out.) I generally only see Coltrane at night – Fred goes out to give him a scoop of food, and then he spends the night in the back yard. He’s still there in the morning to greet Fred, and I’m not sure where he spends his days. We’re talking about moving the old chicken coop (the first one Fred ever made, for our initial flock of 12 hens. Oh, how I long for the days when we only had 12 chickens….) into the back yard so that the outside cats will have shelter when the weather turns cold.

 

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Previously
2009: Damn whippersnappers.
2008: I don’t know why he can’t just call it Demer0l or whatever the fuck other people call it.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I sure do hate the hell out of housework.
2003: When I think of Judge Roy Moore, the phrase “Getting too big for his britches” comes to mind.
2002: If he didn’t do that creepy, over-intense stare all the time, he wouldn’t be so (you guessed it) creepy, but he does, so he is.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.

8/25/10 – Kitteh (movie!) Wednesday

by @ Wednesday, August 25th, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

I’m alive! Sorry this is going up so late, first I had to edit down the movies a little and then I had to upload them, and then I had to wander off to Publix to buy more Gatorade and OJ.

Aside from the fact that I’m tethered to the bathroom (figuratively speaking) and as weak and wobbly as a newborn kitten (I just ate breakfast and need to go take a nap to sleep off the exertion), I actually feel pretty good. Maybe that’s the first step to ending this nonsense.

 

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Today, kitten movies for you!

First, someone requested a movie of Bolitar doing his Godzilla thing. It just so happened that I had the camera upstairs with me yesterday afternoon, and got some footage. I’m sorry about the shakiness; I’m apparently a 95 year-old woman with the palsy.

Three things to keep in mind:

1. I was so upset that he smacked Melodie (by the basket of toys) because I don’t like it when he actually makes contact with them, and she’s a sweet girl. I’m kind of protective of her, whereas I think Martin can hold his own if need be.

2. When I pick Bolitar up and he’s hissing and whining? He does that WHENEVER you do anything he doesn’t like. What a princess.

3. I DID NOT toss Bolitar over the door, even though it sounds like it. I set him gently down on the other side – but I banged my leg against the door as I did so, so it kind of sounds like I tossed him. Which I didn’t, even though he DESERVED IT.

(Or see it directly at YouTube here.)

 

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That Marty, he’s a fighter AND a lover:

(Or see it directly at YouTube, here.)

 

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Previously
2009: The only excitement is watching the show to see if Kim gets so excited that her face almost moves.
2008: “I’m trying to recall the many houses we’ve driven by and seen Mennonite children scrubbing down the pigs and cows. Thinking… thinking…”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: I haaaaaaaaaate having to deal with strangers.
2003: I guess when your boss (the Supreme Court) tells you to do something and you tell him to go fuck himself, shit tends to fly.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: The thrills and chills around here just never stop, folks.

8/24/10 – Tuesday

by @ Tuesday, August 24th, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

I went to the doctor yesterday, but all I can tell you so far is that I don’t have an infection, according to my blood work. My potassium’s low (I got a potassium supplement and she told me to eat potassium-rich food), and she gave me a probiotic. She ordered a fecal (do they call it a “fecal” for humans?), and I got the containers from the lab, brought them home, did all that, and dropped them off yesterday afternoon. It takes three days to get the results from that.

She suggested that it’s a possibility that I had a virus, and my guts are still feeling the effects from that. If the lab results show nothing and I’m not feeling any better, they’ll send me to a gastroenterologist.

I remembered last night that I had an egg mcmuffin from McDonald’s last Monday morning before all this shit (har har) started. Fred thinks it would be absolutely the HEIGHT of hilarity if I got salmonella from an egg from McDonald’s, what with all the eggs we grow ourselves. Oh, yes. FUNNY.

Hey, guess what? ‘Nother cat pic entry for you.

 

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The face is cracking me UP.

Over the weekend, Fred finally got around to fixing the door at the end of the hallway so that we could pull it across the hall and let the babies have a little more space to roam. Now, during the day, they have their room, the bathroom, and my room to run around in. At first, they weren’t quite sure what they thought about that, but after a few days they decided it was pretty cool. I can hear them up there racing around as I type.

The only problem is that bratty Bolitar can jump to the top of the door (it’s a half-door) with his ridiculously long and lanky legs, and he runs into the hallway and hisses and growls and just generally acts the big bully. He’s kind of like Godzilla, all flailing around growling while tiny Martin and Dodger and Melodie and Moxie go running for their lives.

Martin thinks he’s big and bad ’til he comes face to face with Godzilla, I’m telling you. Then he just kind of squeaks in terror and runs so fast his legs blur.

The up side is that Bolitar only comes over the door when I’m in there, so most of the time the poor babies can run and play without fear.

 

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“I just has to teach ’em that I’m the boss!”


Exhibit A: ridiculously long and lanky legs.


Corbett does not condone bullying.


Corbett’s a lovah, not a fightah!

 

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Da Sugs.

 

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Previously
2009: He was a regular fucking Pop Goes the Weasel.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: SqueeSqueeSQUEESQUEE! the bird squealed.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: My computer is getting so freakin’ slow that it’s driving me absolutely batshit, and I’m spending way too much time swearing at it.
2000: No entry.

8/23/10 – Monday

by @ Monday, August 23rd, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

Given that I still feel like crap and I’m still unable to eat anything with any flavah and anything I do eat flees the interview, post-haste (or at least after a brief interval of racing through my digestive tract) AND I haven’t had a Diet Coke in five days because it tastes horrific to me, in fact I can’t drink anything but water and I have a constant bad taste in my mouth and I feel weak due to the fact, I’m sure, that I’ve lost 12 pounds in the last week, I suppose it’s time to call and make a doctor’s appointment.

What does this mean for you? No real entry aside from the cat pictures, SUCKAHS.

 

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“Who, me? What? Nothing!”

At least once a day, Fred looks around at the Bookworms (or looks at one moseying by) and says “I think this is the prettiest litter we’ve ever had.” There’s no arguing – they are one gorgeous bunch.

 

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Melodie, playing. Just after I snapped this picture, she fell onto her side and gave that toy a few bunny kicks for good measure. I guess that toy knows who the boss is now!


“Who, me? Just sitting in this cat bed that I flipped upside down. That’s all.”


::thlurrrrp::


Martin and the toy that Melodie had just bunny-kicked. He’d like it known that HE is actually the boss ’round these parts.


Paws up, y’all!


These two are just so sweet with each other. They’ll walk across the room just to rub up against each other. It’s mighty sweet.

 

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I was going out to run errands one day, and looked over to see Newt taking it easy under one of the upside-down tubs we can’t seem to find a storage place for.

 

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Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Bye, bye gallbladder.
2005: No entry.
2004: Fucking toes.
2003: No entry.
2002: Evil.
2001: Cat pics.
2000: I know you women out there are jealous since I got me one o’ them SENSITIVE guys who can cry.

8/20/10 – Friday

by @ Friday, August 20th, 2010. Filed under CAE, Fostering, Life

Happy happy birthday, Brian!!!!

(Around the age of 3. And for the record, his gut wasn’t REALLY that big. I believe we were telling him to push it out so he’d have a pot belly, and then we laughed and laaaaaughed.)

 

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North Alabamans, you guys seen any hummingbirds yet? I haven’t seen a single one, and this time of year we’re usually flooded with them. This has been such an odd summer. Our eggplants are just now starting to produce, and I know that we’re usually flooded with those by now, too. The jalapenos aren’t getting very big. What the hell is going on?

 

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Simon (god bless his little pointy head) is an 18-pound ginger siamese with a “delicate stomach”. He gets panicky if he catches a glimmer of the bottom of his food bowl so I always keep it topped off but it seems to me that most of his barfing is caused by gobbling his food (I think that because his vomit comes up undigested). I’m currently feeding him Purina One Sensitive Systems dry food and the occassional dry treat. I’m at my wits’ end; Simon pukes wherever he happens to be and all over whatever he happens to be sitting on. He also – lucky me – projectile vomits splattering everything. This happens four or five times a week. At 18 pounds, he’s not in danger of starving to death and this has been going on for years so I really don’t think he’s ill. Any suggestions?

From Dee:

I have a barfer too. He scarfs and then barfs. So pleasant.

One suggestion I have is to slow down the gobbling. My vet gave me 2 suggestions to create obstacles to the dry food: (1) spread out the dry food in a rectangular shallow baking dish to make it so the cat has to move around to get at the food (I tried this, but it wasn’t as effective as the second suggestion); and (2) put golf (or similar-sized) balls in the dry food dish. Depending on the size of dish, I have 3-5 golf balls in there. This latter works fairly well in my situation.

Also, I used to leave out food, but I’ve moved to giving him more frequent and smaller amounts of food throughout the day which seems to help. I invested in an autopetfeeder (like this one: http://www.robotshop.ca/8-day-autopetfeeder-5.html) that allows him to eat throughout the day in small amounts. Wet food also seems easier on his system than dry food, so if I’m home he gets that instead of dry (the wet food also is higher in protein so helps keep him slim).

Additionally, this guy’s a groomer, which means hairballs. I give him malt hairball gel regularly, and brush him a lot (I got a furminator and it’s marvellous at keeping the hair down).

All these things help me, although does not eliminate it…I still have barf a couple times a week, but it’s *so* much better – YMMV. Good luck!

The only additional suggestion I have is to put his water dish as far away from his food dish as possible, even in another room completely. I’ve read that often, a cat will eat and then drink water, which causes the food to swell and then makes them sick.

 

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Can you believe its been a year since Jake and Elwood appeared??

It’s amazing, isn’t it? I can still remember the way my stomach sank when we walked toward the side stoop and saw them there. I sure am glad we kept them, though – they provide us with entertainment every single day.

 

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When you read The Dome, did you picture any certain actors as the characters in the book? I pictured “Barbie” as Gary Sinise…I must have been influenced by The Stand. 😉 There were so many characters, I had a hard time keeping them all straight! I wonder if there’s a plan to make it into a mini-series.

Oh, I can absolutely see Gary Sinise as Barbie! I didn’t cast anyone as any characters while I was reading the book, but now I’ll probably have a hard time seeing Barbie as anyone other than Gary Sinise!

It appears that Stephen King and Steven Spielberg are teaming up to produce an Under the Dome mini-series for HBO. Whether it actually comes out remains to be seen, but I sure hope so! We watch The Stand about once a year, and it holds up pretty well.

 

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Ok. Here is the trick to not leaving your water on too long. You MUST put a kitchen timer (or any timer) in your pocket to remind you. Until I finally wised up to that, there is no telling how much water I wasted.

LOVE this idea! I usually set the reminder on the microwave, but on Saturday I didn’t because who on EARTH would forget that they had water running, right? Ugh. But with a timer in my pocket, I’ll have it with me so even if I’m not near the microwave, I’ll hear it go off!

 

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Robyn, now that you have your net book, you can actually add it to your Kindle list I think. And then you can also dowload any or all of your Kindle purchases to it, so if you DO want to read in bed you can! Without carrying along the extra device.

I did not know that – thanks for the tip!

 

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My mother used to say that the only thing worse than a husband who didn’t care how dirty the house got was one who DID care. Imagine having a fussy husband. 🙁

I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you are absolutely right. That would drive me NUTS.

 

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Robyn, you need to go to www.wimp.com and search for the recent video called, Do big cats like catnip? Tigers and jaguars and the like, all enjoying their drugs. There’s also a very funny video of two cats trying to figure out a treadmill. It’ll make you want to put yours near the exercise equipment just to see what happens.

Do Tigers Like Catnip? (Anyone who’s ever watched the big cats at the zoo know the answer to this one – they’re just big overgrown housecats… who can kill you, that is!)
Cats try to understand treadmill. I love the way the cats smack at the treadmill like it’ll make it STOP THAT SHIT.

 

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Remember back in July when someone asked for help grabbing feral kittens? Here’s an update:

Here’s a quick update on the feral Mom and babies I was lamenting about last week and got so many good ideas from you and your readers. There is just no way any of the shelters etc can take even one more kitten so here is what the Humane Society and I decided. I took Momma Marley there this morning and they are going to spay, needle, chip, worm and de-flea her for $100. The free Trap, Neuter, Return programs have such long waiting lists there was no point in doing that. So Marley is having that done probably as I type this and I will pick her up in the morning and bring her back here to the farm and her kitties.
I will have to deal with the kittens. probably in the same way, a couple at a time as they reach breeding age in a month or so and just suck up the cost I guess.

It killed me to see all those homeless animals at the shelter. sigh.

btw Robyn.. I named all Marley’s babies “M”‘s too..except for one. We have Maxi, Mittens, Muggins, Mel, Muttley, and Boots (boots is the bossy bratty one who boots his (her?) siblings out of the way if they dare try to get near the food s/he is eating. 🙂
Thank you for all the responses and helpful suggestions from yourself and your readers.

 

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I hope you noticed at the end the other videos to watch, specifically the one called Cats & Dogs love Peanut Butter, there is a cat wearing a DRESS!

I totally did notice that! I cannot for one moment ever imagine any of my cats putting up with that for a single second. Oh, the histrionics there would be. (Which of course makes me want to give it a try….)

 

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More movies y’all linked that are DEFINITELY worth checking out:

 

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Love that cat tree! Where did you find that amazing multi-hideout wonder? I bought one last year on Overstock.com that has one house, two platforms, and two little standalone sleep pads, and they all loved it so much I’m thinking of getting another one.

It’s the only scratching post our Moxie (a 2 1/2 year old tortie) can’t knock over when she leaps off it like a flying monkey.

I get all my cat trees on eBay – just search on “cat furniture” and be prepared for hours o’ browsing!

 

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I am getting a gray bar instead of the subhead under BITCHYPOO in the banner….

It should be fixed now!

 

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Re your hunters, I saw in the paper an article about a “cat bib” that’s made to prevent a large number of wildlife deaths. This blue bib is on the cats neck and if it creeps forward to pounce it seems to trip itself before the deadly strike. I haven’t tried it as Billie Jean is an inside cat.

I’m actually not bothered by the fact that the cats kill mice (though I am not fond of the fact that they bring mouse heads IN MY HOUSE), but I hate that they kill birds. That said, I don’t see myself bibbing up the cats. Maybe I’ll start with putting bells on their collars and seeing if that helps. But, you know, these freakin’ birds. They come into the back yard, which is a very small part of our property, and they start looking for bugs and such, and they’ll STOP and turn around and LOOK at the cat who’s creeping up on them… and then they just keep on lookin’ for bugs! Stupid birds.

 

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Your feed isn’t showing up in my Bloglines — is that an issue on your end or mine? Fred?

I haven’t a clue (and don’t ask Fred – he knows less about feeds than I do). I went to Bloglines and searched for Bitchypoo, and about 7 different feeds showed up, most of them last updated in June. People have had an issue with viewing my site on Bloglines several times in the past, and I don’t know what the problem is. Maybe it’ll resolve itself?

 

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Ok, when you get back, I want a profile pic of Miz Poo. She has no chin, I am convinced! 🙂 Have a great trip!

Prepare to be schooled, my friend! I present to you, Miz Poo in profile:

Now granted, she’s no Jay Leno, but there’s definitely a chin there!

 

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It will amaze you, I’m sure, to hear that in the foster room, anytime there’s a fight, there’s always one little brown and white constant in the equation.


At least Melodie got a few chomps in this time!


Dodger was minding his own business, and Martin came RACING over to bite him. Such a brat!

 

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Morning sunshine = Bookworms fightin’ time!


Corbett, looking particularly smug.


Corbett and Elwood, checking out the BIRD WING one of the cats brought inside. I don’t even want to know where the rest of the bird was.

 

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I can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but the way Spanky and Corbett are positioned it seems pretty clear that Corbett was sound asleep here, and then Spanky came up and snuggled up behind him. What WORLD am I living in???

 

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Previously
2009: There might be something wrong with me.
2008: So Fred said “Well, they can’t ALL be your favorite, and besides we agreed we wouldn’t be keeping any of them.”
2007: HAPPY BARFDAY, BRIAN!!!!
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: While your average man might have grown frightened, apparently it wasn’t the first time that morning Mike’d heard Satan’s voice howling his name.
2003: It’s kind of like a samba.
2002: I saved someone’s life this morning!
2001: Thus the reason we never get telemarketing calls.
2000: No entry.

8/19/10 – Crooked Acres Thursday

by @ Thursday, August 19th, 2010. Filed under Crooked Acres, Fostering, Life

I’ve lost 9 pounds since Monday morning. I know you’re all clamoring to know HOW? HOW ROBYN DID YOU LOSE THE WEIGHT, TELL ME SO THAT I CAN LOSE WEIGHT LIKE THAT, TOO!

Here’s the secret: food poisoning.

I know, right? What an awesome diet idea! I should totally write a book about it and become a best-selling author! I don’t know that it was food poisoning, but I’ve heard for years now that there’s no such thing as the 24-hour flu, that it’s almost always food poisoning, so that’s what I’m going with. It started Monday after lunch, was horrific all day Tuesday (I did nothing all day but lay on the couch and watch TV, snoozing through most of it. My DVR has never been so empty!), and just as I was starting to believe that I was probably about to die (when Fred told me I’d fallen asleep HARD on the couch while we were watching TV, I asked him if I’d sounded like I couldn’t breathe. “No, why?” he said. “Because I feel like I can’t get a good, deep breath, so I’m pretty sure I’m going into multi-system organ failure.” Note: Today I’m able to get a good, deep breath just fine.), I started feeling better. I was still woozy and a little dizzy yesterday, but this morning I feel 100% better.

Which isn’t to say that I’m not going to slack today. I am SO going to slack today. Right after I do some laundry, vacuum the house, and scrub out the litter boxes, that is.

 

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Sights from around Crooked Acres.


Momma hen and baby. These damn hens have been going broody all summer long, even in the hottest heat of July. I know that when it’s sweltering out, there’s nothing I feel more like doing than sitting on a clutch of eggs 23 hours and 45 minutes a day.


Newborn chicks always look so smug. “You’re DAMN TOOTIN’ I came out of that egg! I smashed the HELL out of that egg!”


Fred bought a propane torch recently to torch the weeds around the fences and by the driveway instead of using Round-Up. This picture is from the first time he went around the fence around the back forty. Gracie tracked him the entire way around, but she very much did not care for the sound of the torch, so she kept well back.


Cucumbers. We didn’t do very well in the cucumber department this year, but at least we got enough for some refrigerator dill pickles and a batch of sweet pickle relish.


I’ve probably posted one million pictures of okra flowers, but I can’t help it. They’re purty!


Dirty dawg.


Muscadine grapes. We’re going to get one hell of a crop this year, I think.

Did I mention that we’re down to one rooster? The rooster/ hen ratio was off-balance, and the girls were walking around with bare backs (roosters grab on to the feathers on the back of the hens when gettin’ jiggy with it), and I hated seeing that. So Fred processed all the other roosters, leaving this guy, who probably thinks he’s died and gone to heaven, with all these hens to himself. We’ve got small roosters coming up, and unless there’s a particularly pretty or charming one, they’ll be off to freezer camp when they’re big enough.


“You tawkin’ to me?”


Pretty little hen.


Keeping an eye on the flock.


“What?”


These guys slip under the fence in the morning and spend the day wandering the property. I’ve told Fred that it’s my goal to make it so none of the chickens can get out under the fence. I kind of like seeing them wandering around during the day, I’ll admit, but I don’t like seeing them tromp onto the neighbors’ property. Not that they’ve complained, but I don’t like it.

 

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Sugarbutt must be running around the top of the cabinets. He likes to get all wild and do that and make me worry that the cabinets are going to come crashing down.


I count 7 cats in this picture, including two Bookworms. Oh, they make me despair. They don’t even act guilty when I catch them out back, anymore, and when I shoo them inside, they look offended. BRATS.


Rhyme, at the very back of the back yard, watching the chickens.


“Madame, I take exception to your tone. I am merely laying here chewing on this stick. If you have a problem with that, please take it up with the proper authorities.”

 

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Comfy, are we, Marty?


Dodger. I have mentioned that he loves a good sun puddle, haven’t I?


“I HAZ A COMPLAINT.”


“So there.”


Sweet little Dodger. Yesterday, Martin jumped on him and bit his neck, and instead of just laying there and taking it like he usually does, Dodger bit back. I was egging him on from the sidelines – “Kick his butt, Dodger! Get him!”

I have no idea what’s up with the lack of Melodie pictures lately. I need to get some more shots of her because she is SUCH the gorgeous monkey.

 

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Stinkerbelle, keeping watch over her Tommy while he sleeps. I have perhaps mentioned that she loves Tommy?

 

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Previously
2009: I adore stories that talk about what a pain in the ass Gwyneth Paltrow is, and I always cackle when Dlisted refers to her as “Fishsticks Paltrow.”
2008: Or… is that how learning curves work?
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: she’s got the skank lines rolling off her, doesn’t she?
2004: Fred is just amazed that one portly cat can have so many health issues.
2003: ::Sproing!:: he went, leaping at least a foot in the air, and I watched, impressed that he’d contained that much energy in his dry and dead-looking little body.
2002: “TUBBY GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” I ordered, and grudgingly he did.
2001: No entry.
2000: Being completely, one-hundred percent useless in the slightest emergency, I slapped my hands to my cheeks and let out a horrified scream.

8/18/10 – Kitteh Wednesday

by @ Wednesday, August 18th, 2010. Filed under Fostering, Life

I have watched this video one million times, and I still can’t get enough of it! Warning: you will die from the cute, oh yes you will.

Thank you, Heather, for sending me the link. I LOVE IT.

 

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When I see this picture, I can absolutely understand why Fred initially thought that Martin was a baby possum when he saw him sitting under the bush at the side of the house.


When I come into the room, Martin is invariably on the cat tree. He meows, stretches, then goes down the cat tree, meowing the entire way.

Then he runs over to me and sits at my feet, howling for me to give him kisses.

Dodger, Melodie and Moxie eventually come over to me, but they take their time doing it. Martin’s usually gotten all his kisses and is ready to go play before the rest of his litter wanders over for petting.

 

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Tommy in the basket, giving me the stink eye.

 

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Previously
2009: They’re blue. They’re brothers. They’re Jake and Elwood.
2008: YES THAT’S RIGHT I SAID SIX-THIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME.
2007: No entry.
2006: He truly amazes me.
2005: If I insert a brillo pad into my ear, will it eventually get to my brain and scrub that song out, or is that an urban myth?
2004: You know, I’m getting PRETTY FRICKIN’ TIRED of finding cricket legs all over the damn place.
2003: “Mother,” said the spud, “That is an excellent idea, for I am going to melt into a motherfucking puddle of goo in about 10 seconds.”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: In the future, the spud will be cleaning her own bedroom, since I took one look at her room and said “Fuck THIS.”

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